#winwin au

[dropsofletters]

the miss that missed steps [dsc]

summary: dong sicheng once had women shouting his name at the top of his lungs as they tossed their shirts on stage. now, if anyone were ever to compare him to the drummer he used to be, they’d laugh at his face. he spends his days folding clothes and making sure people don’t make too much noise around the hotel his uncle owns. the same man that told him music would never work.

as an artist, she can create beautiful things, but a relationship has never been one then. with graduation passing by in front of her eyes, leaving with her roommates and good memories, this new beginning of her life comes with a grand lie.

they both say they have their lives together. sicheng says he can unlock any door if he puts his mind into it. she says she can lie about having a relationship and not burn herself in the process.

three lies. just three months of lying and it’ll be done for.

title: the miss that missed steps pairing: dong sicheng x reader genre: slice of life!au ; artist!au ; landlord-ish!au ; previous rockstar!au ; fake dating!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au word count: 15,455 words type: angst ; fluff ; suggestive ; humor ; real life shenanigans

Booming bass. Cheers. Clinking glasses. Sounds that she should not connect to the worst experience that she could go through in an October afternoon when the air is too dense with humidity. She should be at home, laying down in bed while lurking through her Netflix account and catching up with those shows that she did not pay attention to in the past semester she cursed, but that is far from the case.

The culprit of the rampant headache-turning-migraine that locates within half of her face and dissipates to her heart comes with a name. Daeri, her classmate and supposed closest friend. This word quoted, highlighted and asked for source because it hasn’t felt like that in a while.

This hotel that Daeri rented for a girls-and-boyfriends night out exudes eccentricity. Each wall is a crimson red, bathed in the violet and blue glow from inside the room with just a thin glass resting in the middle of the door. She can see the tall man that is hanging around Daeri, who was not there seven months ago—the last time she saw her, just before graduation—, wearing a suit from head to toe that lifts up the slightest when he leans with his microphone to sing alongside his loved one.

The Daeri that she knew was aware that romance is difficult for her. It’s prickling roses and bittersweet alcohol that leaves her with more of a headache than with a hungover hues, forbidding her of remembering. The Daeri she knew looks so much like the one seated with a band on her finger, caressing the plush cheeks of the man that smiles at her as if he is the whole world.

Two years ago, she opted to have that…and it was anything but that found-love that brings happiness and calmness.

She hears the tapping of fingers against the dizzying, blood-colored walls, followed by the rolling of wheels that has her looking over her shoulder. Whoever is skating in the middle of this hotel might as well be over-the-top crazy, but that’s the least of her worries. A turn of her head gives her a nice glance of plush lips that part the slightest when gasping and falling to his knees. The carpet digs in the balls of his quite delicate hands, long legs thudding loudly and earning a hang of his head.

“Oh,” She moves closer to him, pressing a hand to his shoulder, bony to the touch yet, quite warm. Like the caress of red that presses to the lobes of his ears and damps his neck in shades that would make a perfect Valentine’s Day palette. “Are you okay?”

The guy in question looks like he works here. A quite unpolished uniform rests on his body, with golden brimming on the sleeves in a navy-blue colored sea. One of the buttons that should be right under his Adam’s apple is missing, strands of long black hair framing the delicacy of a face that is all round edges and glimmers of rose-gold.

He nods, as if he can’t find his voice, sitting down on the floor and swallowing thickly. “Nothing happened. You don’t have to worry.”

She pulls away at that moment, her hand hovering in the air like the stupidest motion she could do. For some reason, there is something about him that is quite captivating, but upon first touch, he cuts the roots that make him connect to the floor that people step up. As if he wants to be far, far away.

“I see.” She lurks through her purse, getting out an alcohol-spraying bottle before offering it to him, waving it in front of his palms. “You must have bruised yourself.”

“That’ll burn.” His deep voice says as a matter of fact, his eyes gleaming under the weight of his straight eyebrows frowning at her.

No shit, Sherlock; she wants to bite, instead, she kneels in front of him. “Quite big to be complaining about a little burn on your palms, don’t you think?”

That makes him frown even deeper. For such a pretty face, the eyebrows make it quite an expressive canvas. “Miss, a part of helping someone physically also includes helping them emotionally.”

“Oh, sorry, didn’t know falling on the rug gave you a heartache.”

“My pride.” The worker scoffs, joining his hands by the wrist and putting them forward for her to spray on. “It hurt my pride, considering I just ate dust.”

Upon seeing the pained expression on his face, with his eyelids scrunched together and his thick lips pressing on a thin line as he tilts his head to the side and waits for the spray, she sighs, sitting down on the floor with a pop.

“Take off your jacket. We’ll use it as a cloth and it’ll hurt less.”

The stranger doesn’t say a word, but he does take off his jacket. Slim and long arms with little veins popping here and there, seemingly untouched by the fall, splay in front of him after resting the jacket on her lap.

Although it’s an old rag, a jacket that belongs to the nineties and should have stayed there—not like the trends that are coming back, if we don’t count low-rise jeans—, it holds his scent. Clean, fresh, as if he has just gotten out of the shower and kept with him a lime just to reminisce of summer.  

Two sprays have him hissing even when she presses the jacket to the wounded hands, his bottom lip trapped in between his teeth like a shark that caught its prey. She hadn’t realized the music had stopped, rubbing on the wounds with softness before blowing a raspberry into the skin. The little hairs in his arms stood up, actions mirrored by her thanks to a situation way different than the one she found herself in.

“My little jade!” Daeri had a habit of calling her that ever since she gave her a set of jades as a moving-in gift when they started being roommates on freshman year of college. Her image does not differ much from how she looked then when their gazes finally connect. Her dark brown hair rests just underneath her earlobes in a perfectly styled bob, with a pointy and downturned nose and a smile that shows all set of teeth. “Didn’t know you were here already.” She stopped on her tracks, fixing the violet cardigan over her shoulders and sparing a glance to the worker and then, to her. “Is there anything going on?”

She should have said no. That she passed by the worker doing whatever he was thinking he was doing and then, get inside the party. However, much to her surprise, the man that had been caressing Daeri’s face not too long ago—or longer than she imagined, just how long had she been there with the hotel worker?—is not a stranger to her. The absolute opposite, if she’s honest.

Not an ex, but not a why. Not nothing but not everything. That’s what Dohwan was back in the day, when freshman year was rolling around with the heat of summer enticing her to finish the semester quicker as she spent her days with Daeri and Dohwan locked up in his dorm. There’d always be too many people around, reason as to why she’d end up squished next to him while playing videogames, and while the heat was unbearable, it was a little less with him.

Kang Dohwan had been a corner-kiss in a drunken night, a little crush that had burst her heart and mind when he had decided to enroll in nursing school and change majors.

Now, he’s back, and with his hand splaying on the small of Daeri’s back.

He doesn’t call her jade, he calls her by name. With his set of straight teeth shown in a big smile, black hair falling on top of his head in little damp strands. His waist is small as ever, shoulders broader, thighs thicker. It seems like he has started working out and now, she wonders if that’s the reason why Daeri has bulked up, too. Gorgeous as ever.

“What a surprise!” Dohwan boosts, as if he had forgotten that she’s Daeri’s best friend. Does she even call her that anymore in front of people, or is the term too stupid for their age? “Daeri told me she had a surprise for me, but I’d never imagine she’d reunite us.”

Sounds like Daeri had not mentioned her.

She stands up at that moment, trying not to bring back the memories that clash against her eyes of a certain August 3rd night, when an R&B tune accompanied them in a rainy night as they sat in his old car. Daeri had gone on a vacation for the summer and she had come back early from her family house because of the imminent necessity of running away. Dohwan was the only one that was available, three shots into drunkenness and with his hair way shorter than what it is like right now.

“Everything’s okay.” She complies, giving a good glance to how well-suited Dohwan and Daeri are. Daeri has a summer white dress under her clothes that grazes her curves perfectly and lets the rose tattoo on her thigh show. Dohwan doesn’t leave behind the dark colors, exchanging his old college looks for something classier. Instead, she is wearing the same pair of jeans she has gone for in special occasions in the past few years, with her favorite sweater tucked inside one of the hoops, hanging from her shoulder.

The disgusting monster that is envy creeps over her.

It’s not because it is Dohwan. She had let Dohwan behind from the moment he got in that plane and flew to New York City. Daeri cried for him as much as she did, missing their first real friend until they met other people. The problem is that Daeri’s life stays clear of issues. Everything falls into place.

She sells her art pieces online. Daeri works at a museum making live realism drawings.

She has never been able to keep a relationship going. Daeri gets any man she wants and makes him wait for her.

They are both the same age and yet, Daeri is now well-accommodated enough for her to buy the brands she’d gasp about on their shared laptop when they were roommates.

She kept the old laptop.

Daeri bought a new Mac.

“Sorry,” She utters, feeling the presence of someone standing up behind her, dusting his hands on the white t-shirt underneath his jacket. “We kind of got lost in the moment. You know, it’s not always your boyfriend gets a carpet burn.”

Maybe, these things happen to Daeri because she’s not stupid enough to say stuff like that.

The poor worker, whom she is just now thinking about, must have frowned even deeper behind her. She can imagine him shouting that she’s crazy, but screaming doesn’t seem like a verb he’d take up on. Maybe he’d just scoff and roll his eyes, insulting her silently and leaving her friends with a glimmer of a doubt.

Instead, he stands there, eerily silent, watching. She looks at him, his profile, eyes set on Dohwan with an intensity she’d never be able to read even if she tried.

This man, whoever this is, has cards hidden under his sleeve and the smile he gives after. So small that she’s surprised he can even move his face.

“I didn’t know you had somebody. Congratulations!” Dohwan emits, quirking an eyebrow and extending his hand towards…the stranger. “You’ve earned yourself a good one. Our friend over here was the mom of the group since forever. I’m Dohwan, a close friend of hers—”

Close is an understatement. They used to be best friends.

The worker still doesn’t raise his hand to meet Dohwan’s, looking at it before sparing her a glance. She’s not sure if she’s begging with her eyes, but she must be. She has to be.

“Sicheng.” The name could be invented or it could be absolutely real. Nonetheless, he grasps Dohwan’s hand in a tight hold, giving it a squeeze and making it move up and down. “I was just dropping my girl off and accidentally dropped to the floor. Happens.”

She laughs at his words. At Sicheng’s words. Somehow, the name, real or not, fits him like a glove.

Daeri cackles, placing her hands on Dohwan’s shoulder. “Anyone would fall for that face over there. I don’t blame you.” Though, she squints her eyes at her friends. “I blame somebody for not telling me they had a boyfriend.”

“It’s fairly recent.” She waves her hand, looking at Sicheng.

“Quite recent.” He pushes, looking at her with a challenge in his eyes. They glimmer and prod at her when he interlocks his hands behind his back, playing innocent. “How long now? A week?”

“A week.” She completes, and the number makes her feel ridiculous. Who brings her boyfriend of seven days to a getaway with her oldest friends?

“Great.” Daeri adds. “You’re joining us, Sicheng? We have booze and some little snacks that Dohwan’s sister prepared for us.”

Quite like expected, Sicheng shakes his head. “I have to get back to work. I just came to drop her off. Got a bit sidetracked.” Though, he is not all two plus two and metaphors of ‘the sky is blue’. Sicheng can and will surprise if needed. Quite like he does when he licks his lips before pressing them to her cheek, delicate as a flower when he noses the skin and pulls away. “See you tomorrow. Get home safely.”

“Damn it. We’ll get to talk next time then, man.” Dohwan shakes Sicheng’s hand as a goodbye, and the man can only give him a nod.

She’s trying her hardest not to touch the tickle that remains in her skin after such delicate, innocent kiss.

Sicheng hangs the jacket from his shoulder, walking towards the elevator and pressing the button to open it. It takes a few seconds before he enters, turning around and looking up at her. The strands of his pushed back hair fall on those enigmatic eyes and for the first time, she feels like there is someone in this world that can be read with less potence than her.

The doors close, quite like those irises do when looking at anyone.

So, she returns her gaze to her friends, feeling weirdly heated and guilty. Excited, in some way, for being looked at differently—Daeri is the first one to speak, and for someone she looks up to with such honesty, it’s nice to be patted in the back sometimes.

“Quite the eye-candy.”

“Mhm.” She hums, stealing a glance towards Dohwan. “Didn’t know you two were together.” Her teeth press together to let out the fakest: “I couldn’t be happier.”

“Thank you, little jade.” Daeri wraps an arm around her shoulder, smiling with pleasure. “I wish that relationship lasts longer than a week. Let’s see if you can finally make it work, aye? I want us to walk down the aisle together towards our men!”

Right. The band on her finger. Dohwan asked for her hand in marriage.

And she was just the third wheel, the trio that got involved in a matter that should have happened sooner. An almost-kiss in a drunken night. The one person that cannot make love compatible.

A month is a lifetime for her love stories. Daeri knows this.

Must be the part of her mouth that Dohwan did not kiss that spoke when she said: “It will work, I’m certain of it.”

###

FRIDAY: AUGUST 3RD, 2018. 

“Dad doesn’t get it, you know?”

Dohwan has his legs propped on top of her lap, uncomfortably going over the middle of the car seats that separates them. His head is tossed back against the window, as if the rain was washing away his worries. He had picked her up half-drunk, and she had asked him to stop once the rain started pouring. The noodles that he had wished for when he had texted her long forgotten, eyes casted on her as if he’s looking for answers in her frame.

He’s bigger than her in size. Broad shoulders and long legs. His bottom lip takes up a big part of his mouth, pouted with even more force in its red, swollen glow. His eyes twinkle in their dark hues, perhaps from the tears that he always fights back when talking about this situation or because the night has deposited its stars in his gaze.

“He’s always like ‘Hwan, you could have done better than art school. You’re not that good at art, either. Go to med school or something’. He doesn’t get it.” His hand extends then, resting on top of her palm that splayed on top of his knee. “Not quite like you do.”

“…He’s a doctor, not an artist. He can’t judge what you can or cannot do with your art.” She complies, but Dohwan only sighs, leaning forward until he’s seated face to face with her, his legs still on her lap.

“Exactly.” He answers. “…We can always imagine, right? Like, imagine if he saw me for once and he was happy with what he saw.”

Her eyes glide across his face. His strong jawline, big eyes, rounded cheeks. His short black hair and the way his body moves with each breath. He rakes the scent of tequila, but she doesn’t mind.

That’s his favorite drink, after all. She’s had them with him.

“I’m happy with what I see.”

There’s mischief in him, always has, so his right eyebrow lifts up at those words, leaning forward until he is munching on his bottom lip softly. “That sounds awfully wrong for someone this close to me. I could end up kissing you, you know? Three tequila shots do mad shit to me.”

It wouldn’t be mad, she wants to tell him. Instead, she chuckles at his words. “You’d only do it with three tequila shots on you.”

Dohwan smiles, shaking his head in the process. “I’d do it with a glass of water and three slurps on noodles in my stomach, trust me.”

“Dohwan…” She laughs, shaking her head. “Stop playing around.”

“Oh, come on. Friends do it all the time.” Dohwan complies. “Kiss. Kiss attractive friends. You haven’t seen yourself when painting; that concentrated look on your face is fucking hot.”

“Tequila shots talking.”

“…Then make it three tequila shots and a noodle date with me, how about that?”

“Dohwan.” She repeats, trying to stop the pattering of her heart. He says it without meaning much. He isn’t naming it anything other than a kiss between friends. That’s all she’ll get from him.

“Wouldn’t you kiss me?”

“I’d get a taste of the idea first, then consider it.”

Dohwan leans forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth and then, chuckling. “Ideas can’t be tasted, kisses can.”

Though, he doesn’t push any further, moving to the driver’s seat and taking his phone out of his pocket. “I wonder if we can get food delivered to the car…”

That night, the tequila talking for Dohwan sounded sweeter than any romance she ever had.

### 

There were once people shouting his name. Not endless rows or seas, but enough people for him to think he had more of a future than drumming his index fingers against the main desk at the hotel’s reception to introduce his entrance to his coworker. Besides, Uncle Yifeng hates it to bits and pieces.

Usually, Sicheng finds it easier to ignore the thoughts that weighted him down. Sure, the fallout happened a year ago—he should be over it by now, getting used to the lifestyle of waking up earlier, with less energy pumping through his veins and more of a lukewarm reality. It’s not like he was keen of meeting the people in the bars they performed at and tried to get a number or two, or that he enjoyed being watched on stage. He misses the friendship, the companionship, the fact that he could create music with his friends.

“I kicked out the people in room two hundred-seventy. Done.” That’s what he works as right now. Uncle Yifeng calls him a landlord, but he’s just a nicely dressed security guard. As it turns out, the receptionist doesn’t like confrontation, no matter how loud and annoying she can get.

“Oh my God, Sicheng, thank you.” Alex drags like her whole life depends on it, plopping her head on the main desk with the dramatics of an Oscar-winning actress. She fixes the baby hairs slipping apart from her dark bun, blinking furiously. “That old lady literally threatened me with an umbrella so I stepped on my twenty-dollar heels and I told her, respectfully, lady—”

“You didn’t tell her anything.” Sicheng completes, toying with one of the left buttons on his jacket. “Knowing you, Lex, you literally looked her in the eyes and gasped silently.”

Alex doesn’t like being told the truth. In her eyes, she’s one of those boss ladies that likes Beyoncé posts on Instagram and posts selfies without even thinking twice about the outcome.

He’s seen her, twenty selfies before a good one is about as normal as it gets with her.

“Look who’s talking. Dong Sicheng, I’m sure you just popped your head inside the room after knocking and said ‘leave’.”

“A very sturdy ‘leave’ works better than saying nothing.”

He keeps drumming his fingers against the desk, which causes Alex to clasp her hand around his fingers, widening her eyes at him and speaking at an obnoxiously high tone. “If you really were Mr. I Speak The Truth and Nothing Else, you would tell Mr. Yifeng that you’d rather give drum classes than kicking people out of his hotel.”

It was his mom’s idea. She said he needed some peace and quiet from the drama that surfaced one year ago, and Uncle Yifeng was there from the very beginning, filling his mouth with ‘I Told You So’s and shaking his head like his life depended on it.

“Drum classes that no one would pay for.”

“How’d you know?”

“I just know.” Sicheng slips away from her hold, resting his cheek against his hand. “Instead of talking about me, maybe we should talk about something else.”

Resting her hip against the desk, Alex wavers her eyebrows in a mischievous dance. “Unluckily for you, Sicheng, you’re the topic of this night. Someone’s looking for you.”

“Say I’m not here.” Sicheng completes, sparing a look to the elegant curved TV screen behind Alex’s desk.

She places herself right in his line of vision. “Too late. She’s waiting outside for you.”

That smile on her face is no good. “What do you mean she’s waiting outside for me? Who’s she?”

“I don’t know.” Alex shrugs her shoulders in her uniform, way more polished than his. “I just saw a lady going crazy about finding you and she was in a panic. Women supporting women, you know?”

“How about friends supporting friends?”

Alex presses her lips, pushing them up mockingly. “That dangling thing between your legs makes me question if a woman looking for you is something I should protect you from. Men are rats sometimes. What if you did something to her?”

Sicheng widens his eyes. “What part of ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about’ isn’t understandable?”

“You never said that.”

“Some things are implicit.”

“Yeah, I don’t do well with implicit.” She taps her finger against the bell on the desk. “But I’m ringing you in for a dinner break, so go look who’s waiting for you and come back with something great, will you?”

Sharing a tour bus with a bunch of men was less mortifying than working with Alex.

But he does as she says, he stops playing with the button of his jacket and moves over to the entrance door. His family did not inherit this hotel; Uncle Yifeng was over the moon and proud of what he had done with wit and hard work. Luxurious for what it was when it started, the three stars and a half that dangle in front of the hotel are his Uncle’s north, and the reason why he asks Sicheng to work so hard.

The humid night of fall caresses his skin with dampness. He can already feel the pores drying up the slightest when the door closes behind him, leaving him with the soft gush of the cold wind. One look to his left and he sees nobody, one look to his right and he sees a face that he had met just six…five days ago.

With a gray graphic tee tucked inside a pair of baggy black jeans, she looks like a gleaming dot under the moonlight. Though, it could be the twinkle in her eyes when she sees him, rushing to him with a covered canvas propped under her arm. He would have never guessed her to be an artist, but if the yellow paint on her collarbone and the canvas are anything to go by, she seems like it.

He recalls her name, enough for him to breathe it out when she approaches him. That catches her off guard, the wind moving the two strands of hair she has put outside of her ponytail to frame her face.

“Any more lies you want to tell or have you consumed your Pinocchio coupon?” Sicheng encounters. What a greeting, he wants to tell himself, but he was put in a position that he didn’t quite like, neither did he dislike it. It was uncomfortable, at best, a plea of someone who was not entirely happy with how her life turned out.

She free hand spreads on top of her hip. “Geez, how about greeting somebody with a ‘Good night, how are you doing? You seem cold. How long have you been waiting here?’”

Sicheng’s eyes rake down her body. Not that she’s bad looking to the eye—quite the contrary. Every portion of her molds and curves to what he would compare to comfort. A beauty that doesn’t blind, neither does it leave anyone uninterested.

“You don’t look cold.”

“I’m not.” She answers, tilting her chin upward and sighing deeply. “I do have more lies to tell, however.”

Sicheng hums. “Is that why you’re here?”

“You’re my fake boyfriend of a week and I have to go to a dinner party with some friends next week so—”

“Say we broke up.” Sicheng completes, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m…I’m not sure you realize I did you a favor. We’re two strangers and—”

“You already know my name. I know yours.”

“That’s not enough for a relationship.” Sicheng sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your friends will understand. It’s not the first time anyone precipitates with a decision and it ends up turning bad.”

He’s quite knowledgeable in the subject, mind him. He hasn’t made the best decisions these past few years.

“Well, none of my relationships last long and I want to prove them wrong.” She starts, moving closer to him. “Sicheng, I don’t know if you’ve ever gone through this but there’s nothing more frustrating than having people think you follow patterns. Your own friends expect from you to always do the same and never grow, and sure, this growth won’t be real…but is it that bad of me to want my best friend to have something to talk to me about again? Even if it’s our relationships and just having a long-term, serious thing with a guy.” She stops on her tracks, the whistle of the wind the only sound heard between them. “I miss her. I miss us. And I want to have that back. Feel like time didn’t leave me behind.”

Shit. Sicheng should turn on the heels of his old sneakers and just pretend that he’s not seeing her in the rawest form one can find a person in. Talking about their insecurities, longing for a friendship…he knows the feeling all-too-well. The loneliness that comes with leaving all we know behind.

“I’ll pay you.” She continues at his silence, and he raises his eyebrows until there is a crease on his forehead. “I don’t have money but I swear I’ll pay you.”

Judging by the look on her face alone, money is tight for her. Sicheng sighs, deepening his pockets while hiding his hands in them. “Do you have a car?”

“Yes.” She complies, pointing a hand at the hold thing parked not too far away.

“I’m not too fond of driving and I have a music festival I want to go to in January. Three months from now. I could take the bus since it’s just, like, six hours away but that’s boring and I honestly want the road-trip to be comfortable so…” He trails his voice. “Take me to the music festival on January 9th and we’ll be settled. I have an extra ticket. I don’t mind it.”

“…Is that it?”

“Or a million dollars to be Gong Yoo for three months. You decide.” Sicheng retorts softly, trying to keep his features at bay. “We can break up after the festival. Say you caught me texting some chick or something. It’ll be fine.”

She jumps on the sole of her feet, a smile so big it could outshine the full moon if she put her force into it. She lurks for something on her pocket, careful not to drop her canvas as she places a small, wrinkled piece of paper on his hand.

He opens it. It has her number and an address.

“That’s the studio I’m usually in every morning from eight to eleven. I’m an artist. I’ll have a whiteboard ready for when you want to come around and we can outline what we’re going to be pretend to be for when the dinner comes around next week.”

What kind of situation he had gotten himself in?

Sicheng nods once, moving the paper in between his index and middle finger. “I’ll have a say on the story, too. I don’t want to be a sappy, PDA loving boyfriend. I’m not like that.”

“Works for me.” She answers, turning around and looking over her shoulder. “Just…show up, okay?”

He sees her move through the streets with the careful zoom of her car, but she leaves a tingle within him. Perhaps, the look-out of something different in a mundane life.

### 

WEDNESDAY: MAY 1ST, 2019.

There was something special about looking at Yuta.

A different outlook in life was perceived just from the lead singer’s face alone. Ten almost always stood next to him on stage when they performed on bars, shirtless and with just a jacket on, dense eyeliner matching the red-haired singer to give something to look forward to in the band. Yet, as much as Yuta smirked into the microphone and used his powerful vocals to make himself stand out from within any crowd, getting cheers from the drunken youth that could barely understand their lyrics, there was something refreshing about seeing him after practice.

Sicheng sits behind his drums, playing absentmindedly as Yuta lifts the stand of his microphone high in the air like a warrior would do with a sword, only to say:

“I’m the king of the motherfucking world.” He announces, the sleeve of his tank top falling off one shoulder as he quirks one leg on top of one of the guitar amplifiers in the practice room they rent. Mark has left his guitar plugged and Yuta takes care of that. “You’ll understand it when you fall in love, Sicheng. This woman is driving me absolutely crazy and I’m not too good in the head, if I do say so myself.”

Sicheng chuckles, stopping his ministrations on the drums and letting his hands hang in between his thighs as he holds the sticks. “It’s good to see you like that for once. I’ve seen too many girlfriends in the time that I’ve known you.”

“None of them like her.” He uses the microphone stand to poke Sicheng’s nose, which the drummer slaps away. Yuta cackles, running a hand through his red hair. “You know, Sicheng? I feel like this is going to be our year. I can feel it in my bones.”

He can feel it, too. In the happiness, the electricity, the outcome of the new band.

Yes, this will be their year.

###

Art with food is not the most common form of art. Actually, most parents tell their children not to play with their food, even less to make figures with it, but she never really listened to what others had to say about her expression of soul.

Soyeon, a nice old-lady, had been sweet enough to let her use the studio above her pizza place to be able to work on her art. As long as she didn’t touch the leftovers from her restaurant, they were on good terms. Each morning, she relished on the sight that passed through the windows, even when the late-night-partying leftovers that came with Itaewon slipped through the creaks of the glass. Sometimes she’d see a drunk man on the street, other times teenagers sneaking away from the parties. It wasn’t refreshing, but the sun was.

What a pity that winter was just around the corner.

Her knees dug into the wooden flooring, using the crushed, old and rotten peanuts to make the image of a client. Sure, it’s not the most romantic thing in the world to make someone out of peanuts, but it was some kind of talent and it took hours. It was her expertise, the pen and paper being far too mundane for her liking.

On that Tuesday morning, there is a knock on the door. She hums, thinking it must be Soyeon asking her—as per usual—if she had stolen tomatoes from her kitchen. She never has, but that’s the only way Soyeon can slip into a conversation about her daughters’ romantic lives and how she wishes they were more like her. According to her, Soyeon’s daughters took up their mom’s flirty side and they can’t keep anyone under their belt without getting tired of them.

Like most people these days, to be honest.

However, the steps sound different. It’s not the drag of the old soles of the flip flops Soyeon loves to use, but careful steps instead. She looks away from the eyes that she is creating to look at the person that entered, and much to her surprise, Sicheng is there in a different attire of what she usually sees him in.

He looks way better out of that unfitted, antique uniform.

A black t-shirt covers his body, dusted in the logo of a band she doesn’t recognize. It looks like it is either rock or metal, but she’s not certain. His jeans are not ripped, but they cling to his physique way better than his uniform does. He has let his black hair fall on his forehead, different from the pushed-back look he uses when working, and now, he’s standing with the blankest face he can muster.

“Are those…peanuts?”

She swallows, sitting up and resting her hands on her knees. “You don’t have a peanut allergy, do you?”

“No.” Sicheng completes. “But it’s not like I’m going to eat them off the floor.”

There it is, the Sicheng she knows but also doesn’t. One can start to expect things from him at this point. He moves closer, interlocking his hands behind his back when looking at what she is working on from above.

“…I’m gluing them to the canvas, don’t worry. They wouldn’t ever go near your mouth.” She wipes some sweat off her head when she stands up, fixing the ponytail that is falling off her hair. “So, good morning, how are you doing? You look rather thirsty, Sicheng. May I serve you some coffee? I think pleasantries can be exchanged between us without using one liners as the start of our conversations.”

Sicheng sighs, pressing his lips together before closing his eyes tightly. “Good morning.” His voice is sweet when he says those words, soon after jutting a finger to the corner of the room, near the windowsill. “That’s the board you talked about?”

She had prepared today. Post-it notes rest on one of her tables, ready to be plastered on the board. A few markers and she’s ready to learn more about Sicheng.

And vice-versa.

Yikes.

“Indeed,” She moves closer to the board, lending him a black marker. “The white post-it notes are facts about me. The green post-it notes are facts about you. The pink post-it’s, facts about us as a couple.”

“Alright.” Sicheng grabs his pile of post-it notes in green and she does just the same. “You’re an artist.”

“Yes.” She jots that down, including the adjective ‘food’ before artist. “I graduated as an art major a year and a half ago. Been working selling portraits made out of decomposed, yet non-smelly, food for people online. It doesn’t give me big numbers but it makes me happy.”

Sicheng nods. “How did you even think of making portraits out of food?”

“I’m a picky eater and I get bored at dinners.” She completes, shrugging her shoulders. “What about you? Are you a valet?”

“No.” Sicheng replies, writing down on his post-it and stamping it next to hers. “Landlord, or so. I work for my uncle and he calls it a landlord. I basically keep peace around the hotel, make sure people are paying, that they don’t hide in rooms to stay. All that.”

“Cool.” She answers, not knowing what else to say. “Did you go to college?”

“No, I was doing something else when I was supposed to go to college.”

“Landlord-ing?”

That brings a chuckle out of him. The sound is precious, a little bit high for his deep voice. “I was in a band. We broke it off a year ago. Or well, rather, I left the band.”

She steals one of his post-its, writing that down because it is important. Damn amazing, actually. “A band? Were you popular?”

“Around the Seoul area, kind of.”

“What were you called? Were you the singer?”

That makes him stumble in his words, getting rigid upon the questions. He takes a note and writes quickly, pressing it on the board. She reads ‘The Outcast Club’s Drummer. 2019-2021’.

“Too much about me.” Sicheng whispers, clearing his voice. “What about the two people I saw you with? Are they your friends?”

“From college, precisely.” She adds, watching as he puts it on post it notes. “Dohwan was friends with both of us. I met Daeri on my first day of college; she was my roommate and she was absolutely terrified of sleeping with the lights on. I had to keep them on and stay with her just so she could sleep. We all met that year.” Her voice grows dull. “I had a crush on Dohwan then, but—”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re trying to take your best friend’s man!”

The repulsion in Sicheng’s tone has her groaning. “No, God! I would never! I’m past that crush and I love Daeri. I’m just awfully jealous of how easily things go well for her. For him. For anyone but me.”

She toys with the edge of her post-its, and Sicheng somehow sympathizes with her. He understands it—how the world moves when someone is utterly stuck. He plasters a post-it note about what she just said, before looking at the board.

“Relationship with your parents?” He asks.

“Could be better. Yours?”

“Good.” He answers, putting two more notes on the board. “How would such different people have met?”

She sighs deeply. “I’m not good with literature. Can’t expect me to come up with a story on my own.”

“I asked you for a portrait of my mom made out of flowers. I don’t know, edible flowers. I won’t have my mom made out of peanuts or corn in our story.” Sicheng brings a smile up her features and he has to fight one of his own. “I contacted you online but when I came to pick up the piece, because I was around town, we got to meet. Then, I asked you for coffee.”

She moves her lips to one side. “I’m not a big fan of coffee.”

“Oh, come on, it can’t be ice cream. We have to look like adults.”

“We’ll settle for tea.” She conquers. “Then, since I couldn’t get the idea of your face out of my head, I took the number you gave me when you made the order and I texted you.”

Sicheng tilts his head to the side, the tips of his ears growing pink when he continues putting the notes of their story down. “And I answered.”

“Well, no shit, we’re in a relationship.”

A fake one, he’d correct her, but he lets her be.

“You asked me out on a date.” She continues, only to have him frowning.

“Why does it have to be me? You texted and I already invited you to some tea.”

“I’m not the kind to ask out on dates.”

“Neither am I.”

“We coincidentally met somewhere on the street.”

“…That sounds like it’s taken out of Netflix drama.”

“I wish.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Alright, I asked you out on a date and I was an anxious wreck until you answered and we went out on that one date. Then another. Then a third, then you asked me.” She raises a finger in the air. “And you were the one that asked me, it can’t always be me.”

Sicheng laughs at her antics. “Alright, I asked you.”

“Day that we started dating.”

“Two weeks from now. Like October 11th?”

“Sounds fair.” She perks up then. “Oh, when’s your birthday?”

“October 28th.”

“So, tomorrow?”

He hums, not saying anything else. Not that he doesn’t celebrate it with anybody other than his parents, scared of getting too close to anyone anymore. “I think we have a good outline.” He clasps his hands together. “In three months from now, this will be nothing.”

“It sounds tragic when you say it like that.” She turns to the board, sighing deeply. “…Thank you for doing this, Sicheng.”

“Huh, we can only hope it’ll be fun, right?”

“Of course!” She lively says, but at this point, a voice within Sicheng’s head tells him this could also be fucking complicated if he doesn’t control it well.

“I better get going.” He adds, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “Text me where I have to be and I’ll see you there…girlfriend.”

“That’s another thing. You’ll have to call me a pet name and vice versa.” She licks her bottom lip. “What about ‘love’?”

The name brings a shiver down his spine and Sicheng has to shake his head, moving over to the door with quick strides. “I’d rather be just Sicheng.” He finalizes, sparing a look over his shoulder to see the confused features on her face. “…See you around.”

### 

Sweetie, her name would be sweetie.

Even when nothing about her is dulcet on first glance, that is the name he thinks about as she stands beside him on the elevator that leads to the spot her friends had invited her to. He can’t believe the power his eyes have, or even the audacity, as he steals a glance to the way she dressed that night. It’s a white and yellow flower-patterned maxi skirt that ends a little above her ankles, a golden long-sleeved shirt with a few lace patterns tucked underneath the skirt. It crumbles a bit thanks to the wrong folding, but grabbing her waist to fix it for her is not what he’s about to do.

He should tell her that she looks nice, instead, he only listens to the commands that she says. “We enters with our hands interlocked and for the love of God, don’t rip Dohwan’s hand when shaking it. He’s a really nice guy and—”

“And a bit pompous, come on.” Sicheng adds, only to have her side-eyeing him. “I know he is your friend, but your friends are high-society copies. I’ve met people like this a hundred times at the hotel.”

“I assume you break all of their hands.”

“I couldn’t even if I tried. I don’t hit the gym as much as your friends do.” He adds, placing his hand in between them and facing his palm upwards for her to grab. She looks at it and he has to sigh. “I promise not to break your hand.”

“I—I know but…” She plays with her hands a bit, chuckling. “It’s just…uh…weird, you know, we don’t really know each other that much and—”

“You’re thinking about what I told you days ago just now? Just when I accepted and I put on cologne and a button down, really?”

She sniffs once, getting closer to him and sensing the scent that radiates from the collar of his white button down. He looks away, only to have her humming.

“It’s a nice cologne, yes. Doesn’t make this situation any less awkward.” Though, she grabs his hand with his, her hold soft while their fingers intertwine. The comfortable touch has him connect his gaze to hers. “For such rough mannerisms with Dohwan, you have very soft hands.”

“You never give up, don’t you?”

“I don’t.” She answers, watching as the elevator doors roll open. “I think that’s my grandest flaw.”

Though, once they step inside, a bass heavy song fills the air, making them stop in their tracks. People bustle around like sardines in a can, dancing far too close with each other in a phase that reads—in neon lights—the name Aphrodite in the very back.

“Oh, this is not…not a restaurant.” She complies, blinking slowly while inspecting around. “…It’s a club.”

Sicheng rests a hand on her back when pushing her forward, using his body to shield her from the dancing drunken bodies. “Not just any club. It’s one of those love clubs people come to hook up with each other.” His breath ghosts on top of her head, looking around for her friends. “Why would they invite us here?”

“This is Dohwan’s kind of scene.” Some things never change and it is only proved when she sees Dohwan standing on top of the bar’s table, a whiskey bottle pouring its content into his well-parted mouth as he smiles into the drink. “I’m supposing he’s the one that invited us.”

“Jadey! My little jade!” Daeri moves through the crowd and wraps her arms around her shoulders in a tight hug, not missing a beat to do the same with Sicheng. “I didn’t think you’d come. You’re here late. Come, come. I will ask for some drinks.”

Daeri leads them to the seats under where Dohwan is standing, and his fiancé pats a hand against his calf.

“Come on, party animal. The invitees have arrived.”

“Guys!” Dohwan beams when he sits down at the edge of the counter, waving a hand to the bartender. “I’m so happy you’re here. I didn’t think you’d be actually able to bring your boyfriend along.”

Sicheng doesn’t like the sound of those words, so he leans back on his seat, parting his legs and keeping his hand on her back. “I can’t find a reason why I wouldn’t come with her.”

“Ooh,” Daeri coos after speaking to the bartender. Sicheng takes this time to order his drink, a simple beer. His companion mimics his motions. “It’s nice to finally hear someone tell you the things you deserve to be told, babe.”

“Yes…” Dohwan trails, quirking the corner of his mouth. “So, Sicheng, you move well through clubs. Any frat parties past left behind you now?”

“Not really. I had a band. We performed in places like these.” Sicheng completes, tossing his head back to take a sip of his beer. “You were in a frat?”

“Yes. Our little friend over here had to come pick me up every once in a while.” Dohwan wraps an arm around her, pressing the sides of their heads together and earning laughter from Daeri.

He doesn’t laugh. There’s something about Dohwan that is far too much for him.

“I’d never get her to dance, though. She was always against it.”

“Oh, come on, you were the life of the party. I would have been the center of attention if I tried.”

Sicheng takes another sip of his beer, looking into her eyes with their hands interlocked over his thigh. “So, what if we danced now? For old times’ sake.”

“A—Are you for real?” She questions, voice soft and Sicheng nods.

“Oh, come on! Yes, yes, yes, this needs to happen!” Daeri claps her hands together, bringing her friend up her feet only to push her towards Sicheng’s hold. “We’ll be over here, you two little lovebirds. Don’t mind us.”

“Sicheng…” She seethes, looking up at him. “I didn’t dance because I am not a good dancer.”

“Who tells you I am?”

He’s moving her patiently through the crowd, as if finding the perfect spot to be away from the two other companions, only to have her scoffing. “Your confidence in doing this. You’re acting like one of those alpha males—”

“Not at all.” Sicheng turns around, taking her forearms and placing her hands on his shoulders. He looks at her through hooded eyes. “You’re just living through Dohwan. Letting everyone shine but you because you’re happy seeing them shine and that’s okay, but for once, you need to have fun and not think about what your friends did and you didn’t.”

“I’ll make a fool of myself.”

His body presses to hers, abdomen to abdomen, as one of his breaths initiates one of her own. “What about it? No one will remember us here. Being anonymous, not getting known, that’s the magic of being normal. Use it to your favor.”

For someone so rigid in her stance of not trying new things, she looks gorgeous from the view Sicheng gets. He’s dancing to the beat of the song, swinging his body from side to side softly, letting his hand rest on her back and guiding her to mimic his motions. She follows through, a little awkwardly and hiding her face in his chest with bawled fists, but he won’t have this.

She doesn’t realize that this friendship she has consists of feeling like less than her friends.

“Don’t hide.” Sicheng lets out, resting his chin on top of her head. “You don’t look as bad as you imagine, actually.”

“Those are some words to tell your girlfriend.”

“Huh, I haven’t had one of those in a while. Grant me a pass.” His fingers thread under her chin, making her look at him as he gives her a smile. “What does one say in this situation?”

“How would I know? I only know what I’d like to hear.”

“Mhm, women.” He answers sarcastically, earning an eye-roll for her and a slap to his chest. “Then, what would you like to hear?”

“That I don’t look like a clown.”

“Don’t know. The red lips give me a bit of Pennywise vibes.” Sicheng jokes around, only to have her chuckling at his words. “I’m joking. You actually look…quite nice under this light.”

“Under this light? God, how long have you gone without a girlfriend?”

That finally makes him laugh and if Sicheng has learned anything this year is not to grant smiles just to anybody. Though, how can one not do it when in a situation like this with her? He twirls her around, their bodies meeting at the middle again before he sighs.

“I’ll learn. Give me time.”

She looks into his eyes for a second longer, responding: “I bought you a gift. For your birthday. It already passed but I hadn’t been able to see you and…” She lurked inside the pocket of her skirt, showing him a tiny, shiny bag. “It’s a rose necklace. I didn’t know what else to give you, but I felt like that reminded me of you.”

“You…You shouldn’t have.” Sicheng whispers, letting go of her body to open the little bag through squinted eyes. When he gets the necklace out, a prickly rose as a pendant has him smiling softly. “It’s beautiful.”

“Someone over here is good looking himself but has too many locks in his exterior.” She announces, interlocking her hands on his nape. “I wonder if getting close means getting pricked, too.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Guys!” Daeri squeals from not too far away, holding her phone up towards where they are, taking pictures with a flash. “This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Yes, Sicheng will have to get used to her friends, that’s for sure.

### 

The trashcan Sicheng dares call an apartment is quite cozy at times. When he gets home after a long night shift at work and he can finally release himself from the confines of that goddamned uniform, for example. Or albeit, when he can sit down and eat a good burger for dinner, like he should be doing right now as he goes up the set of stairs and holds onto a paper bag with fries, two kinds of sauces and two burgers.

Tonight will be good.

Or so he thought, all memories of a good night crushed when he reaches his floor and sees a woman seated right in front of his door. He recognizes her faintly, a face that he had seen in shows in the past. Perhaps, one of those fans that were in love enough to come to more of their presentations, but he cannot put a name to her. Her bleached blonde hair cascades down her back in dirty strands, standing up and pulling down the edge of her denim jeans when a big smile appears on her features.

“My God! I finally found you!” He doesn’t know how or why. Sicheng doesn’t want to be found, neither does he want to be connected to that band that used to consist of his friends. Not anymore. He tries to move past her, open the door to his apartment and not have to talk about it, but she grasps into his hand. “Come on, we…we have to find the boys. The band’s not the same without you!”

He closes his eyes tightly, pressing his forehead against the door as he tries to slit the key through the doorknob. “Please, let go of me or I’ll have to call the police.”

“What?” Her voice becomes tiny, the fan moving a step back before she shakes her head. “This isn’t you, Sicheng!”

“You don’t know me.” He finalizes, opening the door with quick motions and slipping inside just as he feels her fists bumping against the door.

“Sicheng, we have to talk!”

His heart leaps at his throat. Yuta and Ten were always better with this; they’d give a glance to the fans and they would know where to stand and how to do so. They held some kind of respect towards them, but not with him. Not with the guy who decided to depart from the band that he even called his brothers.

His fingers shake when he puts the bag down and he settles on bed, locking the door behind him and kneeling into the bed to grasp his phone and jot down the one number he keeps on a paper in his pocket.

The phone rings two times before he hears a lively voice.

“Good night, who am I talking to?”

Of course, she believes in those pleasantries and he’d love to grant them to her some other time, but this is not the moment. “T—There’s a fan at my door. It’s Sicheng. A fan of the band I used to be part of is by my door and I’m scared. She doesn’t want to leave me alone.”

He speaks too quickly and he hates the sound of his voice. Even more so, he despises that he has no one to talk to but a fake girlfriend instead.

“Gosh,” He hears her moving on the other end of the call and then, comes sprinting. “Send me the address, I’ll be there in no time. Promise!”

“Please…just…come.”

Sicheng tries to busy himself by eating, toying with the fries and tossing them inside his burger to grab another bite, but his heart is racing. He remembers the good and the bad. The moments in which he had three pair of hands to hold, just like the moments he had to let them go because he could not be trusted anymore. He saw the disappointment in the eyes of the fans and in the people he loved.

Tossing his head back, he looks at the ceiling. He’s not a bad person, that much he knows. He doesn’t want to be good either. Good is stupid. Good is what had him losing everything to his own innocence.

Then, he hears the mingle of voices just outside his door.

He takes careful steps out of his bedroom, heightening his senses by getting closer to the door only to hear her voice rather clearly.

“No, you hear me out. I don’t want my boyfriend to get stalked by some freak. He left the band, yes, get the fuck over it. There’s more to life than being a band’s groupie, come on.”

“How dare you?” The fan seethes and he hears a gasp coming from his fake girlfriend. “You don’t know how important this band was to Sicheng.”

“You don’t know him like I do.” She replies seriously. “Out.” She starts, though her voice gets louder. “Out, I said! I don’t want to see you here!”

“Fine!” The fan shouts back and he starts to hear footsteps at the moment that his mortified expression changes into a grin. She did that, the woman that he is getting to know had been brave enough to shout at a stranger like that just for him.

When he opens the door, he sees her in a new light. Not that she had not ever been casted down by this aurora of angelic bliss, but now, it’s far stronger. Without knowing, he’s wrapping his arms around her shoulders, caging her against his chest like his life depends on it. Her cheek squishes against the fabric of his sweater, hands bawled by his collarbones.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, not measuring his words when he pulls away and looks into her eyes. Surprised doesn’t cut it, she’s more than that. “Uh, I saved you a burger.”

Little does she know that he eats both burgers, but he’ll grant her one just for the sake of it. “O—Okay. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Better now.” She eyes his face, but he doesn’t want to let her know anymore. Not now. “So…crispy chicken burgers are fine with you?”

She closes the door behind her, clearing her throat. “Well, almost throwing hands at somebody made me hungry, so I’ll take up your offer.”

Eating with her while seated on the kitchen island shouldn’t feel as comfortable as it did.

### 

SATURDAY: MARCH 7th, 2021.

“Guys, guys, guys! It’s time we chill out, alright? We are not like this.”

No matter how far away Mark hold his hands out to separate the singer and the drummer, the rampant fire behind tearful eyes as he struggles against Ten’s hold to reach out for Sicheng. Not that he moves; not closer to Yuta or far away. He’s static, watching as his best friend burns and aches for a woman he thought he loved, as well.

How was he supposed to know that the groupie that appeared backstage from time to time, giving him sweet smiles and caresses to his shoulder, was also doing the same with Yuta? How could he have been so blind that he had not realized that Yuta did not have anything else in his life other than this band? And, of course, the almost two-year-long relationship he has with whom Sicheng thought he had a relationship with.

“Yuta, get the fuck back here!” Ten shouts, grabbing Yuta’s forearm before he could launch his fist towards Sicheng, but he knows him. Yuta’s emotional, but not quite as volatile as one would imagine him to be. But his heartbreaks, stoked one over the other, tumble down in a way that makes him feel life is ending when everything goes wrong.

“I trusted you.” He smacks his hand against his thigh when letting it fall, running his digits through his hair soon after and tugging at the blood red strands. “And you go around and do this?”

“I didn’t know.” Sicheng finally speaks, low and clear, only to have Yuta shaking his head.

“How couldn’t you have known? She was always around. Stop fucking lying.” Yuta turns to look at him, giving him a spoonful of his mind. “We’ve been together for two years, Sicheng!”

“And we’ve been friends since we were kids. How in the world would I have tried to steal your girlfriend?” Sicheng points out, pressing his index finger to his chest with every word he punctuates after. “I didn’t know.”

No one says a thing, and just one look in Yuta’s eyes tells him that he doesn’t believe him. Some skyscrapers fall with the force of the wind, of a mere spring day, and this is that moment. The fallout of what could have been.

“…I’ll make things easier for you.” Sicheng completes, sniffling to stop the tears that threaten to drop from his eyes. Grabbing his drumsticks, he puts them inside his backpack, closing the zipper in one motion. “I won’t be part of the band anymore.”

“Sicheng, come on, don’t take it like that—” Ten tries to get close to him, but Sicheng shakes his head.

“I don’t have any friends here who believe me, so why stay?”

Even someone as talkative as Ten had nothing to say after that.

### 

Dong Sicheng, from up close, could cause chaos, ruckuses, and everything that can be imagined.

It has been a month since their little lie began to unravel, and she’s still surprised that no one has caught up on it. With Daeri’s birthday taking place in her early-Christmas decorated home, he blinds any of the invitees with one of those smiles that she rarely gets to see. He gets asked more questions than her; the new interesting addition to her life that has people wanting to know even the most intricate detail about him.

Good thing that Sicheng doesn’t let anyone know more than the necessary. Including her.

He’s wearing a burgundy sweater that clashes against his slim body elegantly, curved in the abdomen thanks to his position against one of Daeri’s elegant walls. The gray wallpaper makes him stand out and she has to do her best to pretend she’s not ogling him from his side, half-laying on her hip to look at him. His digits are still wrapped around the heated mug that Daeri had served him, filled with hot cocoa, but she’s waiting for the moment those plush lips end up wrapped around the ceramic.

He crosses one leg over the other when their friend-who-is-not-a-friend is gone when his eyes catch something across the room. It seems to get his attention, because the frown on his features soften and the left corner of his lip lifts up.

Sicheng whispers: “Something’s been bothering me.” There is an undertone to his voice that she can’t understand, but she nods at his words. “How long did you and…Dohwan date?”

What the hell?

Her mouth opens and closes several times before shaking her head. “W—We didn’t date, at all!”

“I’m not judging!” Sicheng mumbles back, taking a sip of his drink. “I’m just saying. You mentioned you had a crush on him some other time, and come on, if you were college friends…you probably hooked—”

“My God.” She places a hand on top of his mouth, warm from the drink…or because it’s him. This awfully kissable yet somewhat non-understandable man. “Let me get this straight, you’re asking because…”

“Because…” Sicheng trails after pushing her hand away, but he clasps his digits around her wrist, keeping it in between the two of them. “I can’t ask now? I’m your boyfriend right now, if you don’t recall.”

There’s a whine to his tone, and she has to frown. Why exactly is he pointing this out? “Are you…jealous?”

He shakes her wrist, frowning in the process. “I couldn’t possibly be that.”

“Then, why?”

“Not everything needs an explanation.”

She coos at that. “Means I don’t have to explain myself when it comes to my friend.”

“Oh, come on, he has this kind of confidence to him. As if he thinks you wouldn’t be able to get someone else other than him.” Sicheng reiterates, and if she is not losing her goddamned mind, he just rolled his eyes. “So?”

“So, we didn’t date.” She confesses, pulling her wrist away from him and sighing deeply. “It was just a kiss on the corner of my mouth, you know, he was drunk…he kept offering to kiss me, I couldn’t quite believe it. Nothing else happened. Ever.”

Sicheng remains silent for a few seconds, only to be interrupted by Daeri, whose bun on top of her head shakes with every shouted word she says:

“Time to cut the cake, you guys!”

Though, that only makes her drink her hot cocoa in more of a rush, causing for her mouth to burn at the scalding drink. A hiss escapes her, watched and heard by Sicheng who immediately lowers his gaze to her mouth.

“Are you okay?”

“I just burnt myself!”

Unlike the Sicheng she thinks she is getting to know, he hooks his finger on her chin, looking around the room carefully to make sure the attention isn’t on them before she feels it. His plush lips pressing to the corner of her mouth that she had burnt, softly, so brief and sweet that it was as though she had not felt it. Then, leaving her as confused as he always does, he grabs her hand, interlocks their fingers together and says:

“Let’s go sing happy birthday.”

Happy birthday my ass, she wants to say.

Some things shouldn’t go unfinished, and Sicheng’s kisses seem to be one of them.

### 

He’ll admit it. He’s a nerd about a few things. Music is one of them.

So, when he heard that a limited edition of a pair of drumsticks signed by his favorite drummer were going to be sold at the mall, he opted to wait right outside the store at night. Even when it was closed and December was rolling just around the corner, leaving the dew of the upcoming rain right behind his trail.

She shouldn’t be here, he thinks, as he sits in front of the store with his back perched against the glassed door. Yet, it’s like his fake girlfriend can’t seem to leave him alone for things that she considers matter for him. The jacket she had worn that night is not thick enough for the weather, leaving her as a shivering mess as she brings her knees up to her chest.

“Explain to me.” Her teeth clatter the slightest when speaking, turning to look at him with her cheek squished against her knees. “What’s so important about a pair of drumsticks?”

Sicheng tosses his head back, releasing a smile into the sky as he thinks about that question. It definitely was important, but not as much as it used to be years ago. When releasing a dream, one begins to understand there is more to this world than being what we expect out of ourselves. He takes his phone out of his coat’s pocket, leaving him only with his jacket when he places the garment on top of her shoulders.

She tries to shrug it off, but he clicks his tongue. “You take it off and I won’t wear it.” Sicheng carefully threatens, then, he starts looking through his phone. “And about what you asked for, it started when I was in high school, I guess. I had a friend, Kunhang, who was in drum lessons and I tagged along. Then, when he had to move away for college, he left me his spot in the band. That’s how I got to get closer to the other guys.” In that part of his gallery that he never shows, he has the videos of the performances, the practices, and everything that made him feel alive once.

“..I see.” She whispers, leaning closer to his side and hiding the tip of her fingers under the fabric of his sleeve. The hairs on his arms stand up, but he concentrates on the phone instead. “What are you going to show me?”

He clicks on a video with an ugly black and white filter, where they can hear and see him working on the drums. It’s an old cover from a Japanese band Yuta loved since he was twelve years old, and he’s quite proud of the outcome. It got more than a hundred thousand views on YouTube.

“Whoa…” She coos, every word she says breathed out on the side of his face, making his gaze trail away from the phone to her profile. She’s gorgeous, even from up close. “You look so cool, Sicheng. Why have you stopped doing that?”

The knot on his throat grows bigger and he has to look away, locking his phone and putting it face down on his thigh before sighing. “You won’t look at me the same way if I tell you.”

Her grip doesn’t falter from his sleeve, scoffing at his words. “If you tell me you killed all of your bandmates, I won’t believe a word you say, Sicheng.”

“I didn’t.” Sicheng reiterates, trying to fight back a smile. Then, he turns to look at her, pressing a hand on top of her hidden one. “The lead singer, Yuta, had a girlfriend of two years I knew about but didn’t personally know.” He starts. “…And I coincidentally met a fan, a groupie, whatever it is that you call them, when I was playing in one of our shows. She’d always slip in backstage and we started getting along then. Chaeyoung was like that, could have anyone wrapped around her finger if she wanted to.”

She nods, and Sicheng continues to tell his story.

“So, the moment I tried to introduce my new girlfriend to Yuta and the guys, we both realized we were dating the same woman. He thought I had stolen her from him, instead of thinking that she was cheating on both of us.” The explanation has her eyes widening a fraction of a second before they soften, speaking his name in a low tone. “He didn’t believe me, and I felt like the guys didn’t, as well. I left the band before it could get any worse.”

“God…Sicheng…” She mumbles, placing her chin on top of his shoulders, faces far too close…but that’s the thing about her. She doesn’t realize just how her kindness makes his heart skip a bit.

That’s stupid to say, right? They have a month and some days left together.

“If it works for you, I believe you.” Her eyelashes flutter softly, covered in the humidity of winter.

Nice doesn’t cut it for how great it feels to be told that.

“Yeah…” He pats his hand against hers. “I like the sound of that.”

### 

Her lipstick has disappeared into another dimension. That’s the newsflash.

“I—I’ll be ready in a second, Sicheng. I just…” She keeps flickering through her purse and her makeup bag, to no avail. Where’s her favorite red lipstick? Only the universe knows. Though, give her some credit, it’s damn hard to find anything when there is a handsome man sprawled on her bed face down, leaning his cheek on his forearm and looking at her with a sleepy gaze. He has been waiting for over thirty minutes in that position, after all. “I need my lipstick.”

“I’ll help you look.” Sicheng stands up then, running a hand over his beige shirt and walking over to her vanity. She doesn’t pay much attention to him, lurking through her shelves and her bathroom, taking some extra time there.

When was the last time that she used it?

Though, it takes some looking around inside the bathroom to see that it had fallen on top of her dirty clothes pile. Fucking luck, she tells herself, clasping the tube in between her hands and looking at herself in the mirror, splaying the lipstick as well as she can in the outline of her mouth before filling it in. A few blotches with her finger and taking out the access by patting a napkin to her mouth and she was done. Opening the bathroom door again and turning off the light.

“Found it. I’m ready.” They should have already headed to the museum ‘date’ they were supposed to go to. She was going to be in the exhibition of a professor’s new collection, but that’s far from her worries now that she sees exactly what Sicheng has in his hands and what he’s doing with a smile on his face.

Listen, she’s a single woman. She has been single for a while now. There are things that only a few things can fulfill and reading is one of them. Romance books, perhaps the ones that are a bit steamy, are a nice change of pace for her nonexistent love life. Though, Sicheng seems to have the time of his life as he flickers to the next page, quirking an eyebrow as he coos to himself.

“Sicheng!” She squeals, knowing perfectly well what part of the book she had left it in and judging by the pink blush on his cheeks, he’s reading just that. She launches herself to his lap, trying to clasp the book in her hands only to have it taken away from her hold. “Give me that! That’s private!”

“He wrapped an arm around her hip, pulling her closer to his center, whispering in her ear—”

“Dong Sicheng!” She screams, not caring about the laughter that leaves his lips when she sits on his lap and tries to reach the book that he holds above his head. Her chest presses to his, the breaths of the laughter he leaves caressing her chin when she stands on her knees to be able to reach the book. “Don’t be reading my stuff!”

“It’s just getting to the good part. I didn’t think you’d be the kind to read porn.”

“Read porn?!” She questions, failing on her attempts of reaching the book and smacking her hand against his chest when he starts laughing. “That’s romantic literature, mind you. The fact that they have sex is not the reason why I read it.”

“You highlighted a few phrases here and there.”

“Because they are good quotes.”

“Quotes about a man foreshadowing to sex with a woman.”

“Oh, come on, as if you haven’t had sex.”

Those words make her notice just in what position they are in. One of Sicheng’s hands is next to her leg, both of her thighs straddling his thanks to her attempt to reach for her book. Her chest stands fairly close to his face, his soft breaths mingling with her own. They grow erratic, or it may have been her own breathing.

Sicheng closes the book then, keeping his thumb trapped in the page he was reading. “Uh…” He trails, inspecting her face. “You like these kinds of things?”

“Books like that?”

“No.” He shakes his head dizzily. “Men like these.”

I like this, she wants to tell him. There is nothing more than she’d wish for than to wrap her arms around his shoulders and plant a kiss on his lips, a memory of what could have been in Daeri’s birthday if only they had been braver. Instead, she tilts her head to the side.

“I like some of them. Not all. Some are written too…dominant and I don’t like an alpha male.” She confesses, trying to get off his lap only to feel his hand trapping the back of her left thigh, looking into her eyes when he says:

“Careful.” He whispers, though she knows there is no kind of danger to be ran just by getting off his lap. The touch alone electrifies her, making her press her red lips together.

This catches his attention. She knows when a man is looking at her lips.

Instead of kissing her, however, Sicheng puts the book down and presses a hand to her shoulder. “Don’t forget to bring a jacket with you. Let’s hurry up. It’s getting late.”

She’d rather be late if that meant getting to kiss him for good.

###

Sicheng is a tall wobbling figure in the night as he carries their luggage back to her car. His hair dusts in snowflakes of the remaining memories of December, just when January steps into its first week. The tip of his nose blares a vibrant red, accompanied by a sniffle when he opens the door and tosses the luggage inside.

Only when he is by her side, on this January 8th night, does he finally say something.

“All the rooms were taken up.” Sicheng announces, pressing the button beside his seat to lean it back. She watches him back down slowly, frowning at his words.

“We made a reservation.”

“Well, they forgot about us and the rooms are full.” There is exasperation in his tone. Meanwhile, she’s trying her hardest not to scoff. Sicheng looks up at the ceiling, a pair of glasses that she knows he needs to wear but never does resting on the bridge of his nose. “…And before you say you will drive us to the next motel we can sleep in, let me remind you we are two hours away from one and we’re tired from driving. I won’t let you.”

She clicks her tongue harmoniously. “So, you are trying to tell me we are sleeping in a car?”

“Not how I thought the night was going to go.” Sicheng finally turns to look at her, a twinkle in his eyes when he takes off his glasses and rubs at one of his eyelids. “Listen, I’m sorry. I will find the best hotel I can once we finally get to our destination, but this is as best as it gets. The comfort of your car.”

She sighs, mimicking his actions with the seat and turning to her side, inspecting his profile as he closes his eyes tightly. “Sicheng, you have that face on.”

“What face?”

“The one that tells me you’re not going to sleep feeling bad that we’re sleeping in my car.”

He opens his eyes then, the apples of his cheeks bobbing up with his tight-lipped smile when he turns to look at her. “So, we’re studying faces now.”

“Yours is easy to study.” She complies. “When you’re annoyed, you’re annoyed. When you’re happy, you’re happy. There’s no denying in everything you do.”

“I’ve studied your expressions, too.”

“Mhm.” She hums, frowning deeply. “So, how about this face?”

“The ‘I smelled a fart’ face.”

“Not at all. Unless you want to tell me something.”

Sicheng laughs at her words, reaching for a strand of her hair and playing with it for a second before letting go. “I know I already said it, but I’m really sorry—”

“Say sorry one more time and I’ll kick you out of my car.” She blows on her hands then, rubbing them together before letting out a small cough.

“You’re freezing.” Sicheng points out, sitting up on his seat before looking into her eyes.

“I’m not.”

“I can see you shivering.”

“You’re imagining it?” Her voice wavers the slightest and Sicheng has to roll his eyes. He pushes his weight to one side of the seat, patting his hand on the small spot next to him.

“Come lay here.”

She scoffs at his words. “I won’t fit, genius. You can barely fit there yourself.”

“Then, lay on me.” Sicheng shrugs his shoulders as if it’s the easiest thing to say. It’s tempting, she won’t lie, but the thought alone has the tip of her ears heating up. “Nothing will happen, I promise. You can sit on my lap, lay on my chest. We’ll be fine.”

She looks at him one last time, only to have him raising his hands on each side of his body, as if in defense. Her eyelids flutter shut, passing one thigh and then the other over the middle only to settle down on the small spot that Sicheng had opened up for her.

Surprisingly, she didn’t fit. And that’s not the verb she was imagining.

“See?” She tries not to think about it too much, quirking one leg up and hoisting it over Sicheng’s waist. She leaves the other one resting on the sliver of space left, her hand spreading on his shoulder. “Now, you’re going to have to deal with half my body weight on you.”

Sicheng hums, with his eyes closed and his digits resting on the back of her head. They make quick work on doing circular motions there, slow and meticulous, enough to have her back straightening, more of her skin pressing to him. “Like I said, I don’t mind.”

She doesn’t know what else to say. Instead, she lets her ear press to Sicheng’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Much different from how her heart is going crazy inside her chest.

“Our break-up is coming soon.” She announces, only to hear a new melody to Sicheng’s heart. Now, it rushes and he takes this time to stop his motions on her hair.

“Oh.” He doesn’t say much else at first, swallowing thickly. “S—So, have you thought about how you want it to happen?”

She doesn’t want it to happen, that’s the thing. Even when fake, Sicheng had been giving her—slowly, but surely—the kind of commodity she always expected out of a relationship. There is much more to unravel about each other, but she wouldn’t mind to do it one bit.

“We can always push it back.” She whispers, resting her hand on the one in her hair to try to get him to continue with his movements. He does, and she looks up at him to see his eyes open, but staring at the ceiling. “I…I don’t think…uh…that we should end it right now. Why? What for?”

“Yeah.” Sicheng mumbles, closing his eyes and squishing his cheek to the top of her head. “Two more weeks, how about that?”

She nods, letting her eyes close only to get lost in the feeling of him. The scent of that perfume she had given him on Christmas, too. “Yes, two more weeks sound perfect.”

###

The Outcast Club are right in front of him, and he wishes he could stay stoic. His eyes should not divert towards the newest drummer, whom is neither Kunhang nor himself, or to Ten as he works perfectly on the bass, with his hair sleeked back and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. Mark is as reserved as he gets on stage, all smiles and headbangs when he lets his fingers play the solo of their newest song.

The main focus goes to Yuta, leaning over the crowd of the festival and singing their songs on top of his lungs. He remembers when Yuta wrote this track; he was a little bit whiskey drunk, with his head tossed back as he made mistakes on Mark’s oldest acoustic guitar. He could barely scribble down the notes, but even when Sicheng coached him to go to sleep, he said he’d lose the melody. The inspiration.

Maybe, he wasn’t meant to be part of the band from the beginning. He didn’t have that mindset when it came to music.

His companion grounds him when she shouts at the top of her lungs, bringing a fist up and smiling through her set of red lips. He has to look at her, mostly because she holds some kind of hope. For him to know that he has not remained static all these years; there is somebody that spends time with him without thinking of anything else. Not his past, not what he could have been, what he should be…

“Come on, Sicheng!” She tells him, grabbing his wrists and turning him to her. He has to smile at her antics, at the dense eyeliner she had put on and the brightness of her beam. Even when outside it’s cold, the concert remains heated with the amount of people there. “Jump!”

And he does, mostly because he wants to bring good memories to something that he finds oh-so-bittersweet, but with each jump he matches to her own, the freer he feels. He doesn’t realize that he grabs onto her waist or that he pulls her closer. That her hands, as per usual, rest on his chest, but this time around, she doesn’t want to ball the fabric or give him a smack for saying something that she can’t argue about.

Instead, she looks at him with an expectation that steals his breath. This, this is what life wanted to bring him back with such heartbreak. Freedom, understanding, whatever this blossoming feeling in his chest is. He leans his lips down then, waiting for everything and nothing at the same time, but when he feels her lips clashing against his, he knows luck has struck on his side.

She tastes like the strawberry fuzzy drink she has in her left hand and her lips, much like her personality, want to take everything that surrounds her. Perhaps a bit selfish, but he grants it. His mouth molds against hers, trying his hardest to keep himself controlled when he feels her sigh against his mouth. As if she waited.

God, he had been waiting for this.

When she pulls away, she gives him the grandest smile he had seen, wrapping an arm around his neck and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. That’s when he returns the grin, feeling his skin heat up when he grants another look to the stage.

Yuta is by the stage, squinting his eyes at the two figures and that’s the moment Sicheng knows he was seen. He keeps his arm wrapped around her for leverage, but what comes next surprises him. The lead singer gives a tight-lipped smile, a bit lazy on his face, when he picks up his microphone and speaks into it.

“Let’s have a great night, will we? Remembering the good old times and the good ones that are to come. Every moment is valuable in our lives, no matter how it ended.”

He has to rest his head on her shoulder, not fighting back the happiness that bursts from within him.

Yuta may not hate him as much as he thought he did.

### 

Pick your poison. Never let it be a man.

Besides, it’s not like Daeri picked the best bridesmaid dress for her when her wedding came around. She looks like she’s about to pick strawberries from a field in the old west, with puffy blue sleeves and an uncomfortable waist that has her sighing in a few more times than necessary. Two more weeks, Sicheng promised, and now, he’s not here to accompany her to the grandest date of their arrangement.

He missed the wedding ceremony and now, she’s dipping her tongue in expensive wine in hopes of forgetting that he seemingly won’t come to the party, either. Dohwan keeps looking at his wife as if she’s the most beautiful woman in the world—and she is, obviously, Daeri couldn’t look more gorgeous even with tear-stained cheeks—but she needs to have less romance around her for her not to feel so bitter about Sicheng breaking a promise.

Wine can’t do magic tricks now, can it?

Dejun, one of the groomsmen, slips by her side at that moment, with an awkward smile on his pointy features and a movement of his eyebrows. “Uh, hi! Uh…would you like to have a dance with me?”

She’d like to say yes. Dejun is handsome; she doesn’t know him enough, but she’s sure he knows enough about her to be aware that she’s in a three-months-long relationship. Or, she was. Is it over? Was Sicheng too much of a coward after kissing her all the way home from the trip, like his life depended on it, so he decided to dip?

“Sorry…I’m waiting for my boyfriend.” She has to be stupid, but she takes that moment as an excuse to take a sip of her glass. Dejun nods, sputtering a set of apologies before he goes somewhere else.

And there she is, once again alone, walking over to the group of women that roam around in order to grab the bride’s bouquet.

She is not sure if she wants to get married. The idea of having someone glowing at just one look of her face is inviting, but she wants something deeper. A friend, someone to believe in, perhaps. She gets to the far back, putting her glass down and watching as Daeri smiles with all her might as she swings the bouquet in her hands, throwing it to the group of women.

None of them grab it, but someone behind her does.

She looks around to catch a glimpse of the lucky lady, but someone else holds the bouquet in his hands. Sicheng stands there, wearing a suit that is not his size at all—perhaps, lent from his uncle’s wardrobe—, but still making it work as he walks over to her, one feet after the other in a dancing waltz when he finally approaches her.

“Sorry for being two weeks late.” Sicheng announces, earning a few coos from the people around them as he grants her the bouquet in between his hold. “I had some things to sort out.”

“Some things?” She whisper-yells, trying her hardest not to give doll-eyes to the people around her to see if they know what she is saying. She puts a smile on her face, but it’s way different to what she is about to tell Sicheng. “You went MIA for two weeks, what could have taken you so long?”

He sighs deeply, looking for something on the pocket inside his vest. When he takes it out, she sees a small marked canvas, the size of her palm when he puts it on her free hand. Made out of peanuts are a few words that have her battling back tears as well as laughing at Sicheng’s uniqueness.

I want you to be the future of this forgotten man.

And then, a jade drawn to its side. Awfully done, as well.

“I’m not that good at drawing, but I really tried. It took me longer than I expected and I really didn’t want to show up without this but—”

“You have to be stupid.” She shakes her head, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer to press a soft kiss to his lips. He grows rigid, cheeks heated up when she pulls away only to have her gasping. “Oh, forgot you didn’t want to be the PDA boyfriend.”

“…I’ll have to get used to it.” Sicheng releases as a soft breath between them, taking her hand and giving it a run with his thumb. “Let’s go sit down so we can talk about these past two weeks.”

“And the ones to come.”

He smiles at her words. “Plenty of those, if we are lucky.”

###

Waking up to the sound of Sicheng playing the drums in their shared apartment would be annoying to some, but to her, it’s refreshing.

She lets herself roll to his side of the bed, smiling in glee with her eyes closed. He’s still insecure with his hits, trying not to make too much noise or get lost in the moment, but he’s getting there. Seven months into the relationship and she can say something…

Sicheng is not his past. He’s not his future. He’s not the man when he’s alone or the one he’s with her. He’s a mixture of the art of his smile, the twinkle in his eyes, the insecurity in his mind but the selflessness that characterizes him.

Sicheng is time, and she’d be lucky to spend her entire life with him.

#winwin scenarios #winwin #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #nct #wayv #kpop scenarios #cpop scenarios #writing #wayv au #nct au #winwin au #wayv fluff #nct fluff #winwin fluff #nct angst #wayv angst #winwin angst #slice of life!au

[rosietaeyongswife]

winwin misogonist??

 why nct always have to be at the crime scene? lmao. before some of yall dragged winwin, you should do research first before insulting winwin. 

 first of all, nct has a lot of feminist members like yuta, taeyong, doyoung etc proved a lot of times their views on feminism, and yuta is the most educated one on topic?? just the way he was fast to react when hendery asked “how much you weight?” when johnny was pretending to be a princess. yuta said “no, don’t ask lady such a questions.” i believe off camera there were a lot of moments when he was correcting members etc. when they did something like that. also, members know each other for a long time, when being around yuta could be very educational for them. i believe that winwin also knows that, and is eductated at some level about this. 

  second of all, video is out of context, and some of yall really can’t read. while you will watch whole video there is moment when one of hosts called liuyan was talking about how her mother in law was making her make food for her son=boyfriend of liuyan, and winwin said “how dare her?/why would she ask you? why didn’t you break up with him?”, which shows that winwin isn’t agreeing with stereotypes of woman in asia (making food for their man, basically seving your boyfriend). also, winwin was describing plot of the book that his sister recommended to him. also in chapter forty one of this books there is description:

Men may forget gf's birthday, accidently calling ex's name &forget these mistakes. But women can't forget the hurts they felt. When they had a fight, women will recall his mistakes. Women not only remember his mistakes also his good deeds.

 which is basically similiar to what winwin says. notice how winwin didn’t agree with anything or something, he was just desribing plot.

  also, if winwin really did something bad then he would be all over on weibo, because everytime chinese idol do something bad, people on weibno are fast to react and there would be ton of articles, but there is none. so he wasn’t misogonist, some people took it out of context and run with it.

 also i get informations from @yunqi_world on twitter, and if you go to their page you can read the whole thing when winwin support women/femminist actions, breaking the stereotypes etc.

#nct #wayv #wayv winwin #winwin #dong sicheng #dongsicheng #misogony #false accusations #twitter #weibo #tiktok #nct news #nct scandals #scandal #winwin au #winwin reaction

[phoxphenex]

can u make kun/wayv as dad text,something like when he found out he’ll be a father or when he’s away for tour?

wayv when you find out you’re pregnant

#scenarios #nct social media au #nct #nct texts #wayv texts #wayv #wayv kun #wayv kun texts #wayv ten #wayv ten texts #wayv winwin #wayv winwin texts #wayv xiaojun #wayv xiaojun texts #wayv hendery #wayv hendery texts #wayv yangyang #wayv yangyang texts #wayv x reader #wayv as dads

[starillusion13]

TRUST ME NOT

Pairing: Bf!(boss unit except one) x f!reader

W.C: 9.1k

Genre: Fluff, Mafia, Angst

Warnings: keeping secrets, innocent reader(?), mafia deals, murder, blast, tracking device, spying on someone, anonymous mail, tying up with rope in basement, unconcious, feeling sorry, sad, regrets, forgiveness, lots of kissing, anniversary surprises lol, getting shot, mention of blood(not detail) idk what to add anymore

1 month late birthday gift to @mymoodwriting sorry🥀

Network: @kvanity-main

🎀 Your anniversary was supposed to be held in a month.

The excitement was brightly visible on your face and you had a lot of arrangements to make. Going out to different stores and contacting some very important people who all are of potential help in some urgent scenarios. It's been five years since you were in a relationship with the mafia gang, NCT. Yeah, some people won't believe you if you say that you are the secret girlfriend, because your appearance and attitude is far from the ruthless behavior of the bosses--- your boyfriends.

The first one to notice that you were busy was Jungwoo, as he is the one who doesn't go out of the house often. His hacking job lets you both to spend more time with each other and well, this makes him throw cocky looks to others. You have told him repeatedly not to tease others because of that, but who is he to listen to?

You have almost planned everything for the upcoming day, obviously keeping it a secret from them. And this made Jungwoo suspicious of you. Earlier he was ignoring your weird attitudes and your now and then excuses to go out but one day when you were out for a long time, he followed your location. Well, he tried to but he couldn't track it.

How the hell is that even possible?

Now, he can't obviously charge you for messing up with the tracking device as you aren't aware of any of these. So, he decided to talk this out with his gang members.

"Are you sure of the suspicion?" Taeyong asked with a dark look. He was already tired with the day and now one of his members is sitting in front of him with a doubt. He glanced at the rest of the members across the room but they all were pretty much similar attentive to the hacker like him. He sighed and urged him to speak more.

The hacker nodded and proceeded, "she is acting differently and when I asked her last week. She was in a hurry to reply as if she would spill secrets if she spoke more than necessary."

"Maybe she is tired. You know her café has a lot of work." Mark stated and Jaehyun nodded his head in agreement. They know very well how dedicated you are to your work and something that might be keeping you busy these days.

Jungwoo shook his head, "No. The surprising fact is that she is barely available at the cafe."

"Then where is she going every morning?" Winwin asked and glanced at him from the corner of the room. And this caught everyone's attention.

Jaehyun remembered his interaction with you from two days back over the call.

"When I asked to pick her up from the cafe, she denied and told me about having extra hours but ended up coming home by riding someone else's car. As far as I know no one from her cafe owns that car." he stated and looked around.

"What? And you are telling me now?" Taeyong banged the table with his fist making the ones sitting near to him to flinch. Doyoung licked his lower lips and ran his fingers through the hairs. He was still putting in the pieces together and hoping that whatever they were thinking should not be the actual case.

Are you hiding something from them?

Or are you planning for something to destroy them?

Mark put his phone beside him on the sofa, "Dude, don't think like that. We must be wrong somewhere. Don't doubt her for anything."

"You are not suspecting her for anything right?" Winwin looked at his leader expectantly who in return just poked his cheek with the tongue and turned towards Doyoung.

"Tell everyone to keep a closer look on her." he said and looked at everyone, "all of you will see what's the matter with her. If she is not going to the cafe and not talking with us that much. Then we should find out what's the matter that she is suddenly acting so differently."

"But-"

"Mark, don't argue with me now."

No one spoke anything after that. Four of them left the room, leaving the leader with Doyoung. The latter's eyes followed how frustratingly the leader was brushing his hairs back and sighing.

"I know, you are not doubting her like the way you are showing your anger."

The leader rested his elbows on the table and held his head with his palms, "I don't want to blame her for anything. I trust her so much but I want to know what's up with her. I love her so much, Doyoung."

Doyoung walked towards him and patted his back comfortingly, "we all love her, Taeyong. If she ever betrays us then nothing can hurt us more than that."

"I don't want to hurt her. She is precious to me. I want all these to be just a misunderstanding."

"She is not betraying us. We will just find out what's the matter with her and then everything will be fine."

The latter just nodded and tears fell from his eyes similarly like the one standing.

.

.

"Where are you going?" Jungwoo asked as he saw you hurrying towards the door. You were smiling all the way down the stairs while looking at the phone. His eyes were staring at you with curiosity and adoration. When he repeated the question again, you glanced at him away from your phone and raised your brows.

"Uh..I..somewhere...do you need something?"

"No. But where? Do you want me to go with you?"

"No!".

He was taken aback by your sudden scream, "what? Why are you shouting?"

You awkwardly laughed and brushed your hairs, "I'll be off to the place and will return quickly. Don't worry."

As soon as you took a turn, someone grabbed your forearm and made you turn around. The turn was so sudden that you almost lost your balance on your heels, "What the hell! Jaehyun?"

"It's late afternoon. I don't think you are going to the cafe right now. Your workers told me that you will be there in the evening. So where to now?" His tone was low and demanding.

His grip was firm and you glanced at the hold then at his face. He had just showered after returning home. The others were not there yet and these two were only at the house so you decided to leave without them noticing you but it's not the case now.

"Hey, I'm just going to meet someone." you smiled at the end of the sentence.

"Who? Let me take you there."

You held his wrist to take off his hand from yours, "No, it's okay. I can go there alone. He will be just a few blocks away and......and then everything is fine."

"he? Y/n, who is this person? Do I know him? Have any of us seen him before?"

"Oh my jealous baby, Jae. Come on, don't think like I am a child. And you don't have to know everyone."

He stepped closer to you, tugging your hairs behind your ears before holding your hands and smiling down at you with a soft look, "I just care for you too much, Y/n. I don't want anyone to hurt you. Please be safe out there as you know your life is always at risk because of us...and dont hide anything from us."

You couldn't hear the last words but you smiled at him, "I will be safe. I promise."

He leaned forward to peck your lips and then planted a soft kiss on your temple. Jungwoo came up behind you and hugged you, nuzzling his nose in your neck inhaling the recently applied perfume, you smiled at the tingling sensation. He whispered, "if you can't keep yourself safe. Then I will kill everyone who will hurt you."

You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your lips, planting a kiss, "I know. I am always safe with you all."

.

.

.

You were safe. Your preparations and secrets, everything was safe. Only two weeks left and you couldn't contain your excitement. Skipping steps towards the flower shop, you were greeted by the familiar man holding a rose in his hold and smiling endearingly at you. Your smile widened brightly and a soft laugh escaped your throat when he kneeled down in front of you, "A rose for my queen." He extended his hand towards you and you took the flower from his hand.

"Oh please shut up, Wooyoung."

He again stood in front of you and smoothed his blazer and pants. The look was stating that he was on his way for the meeting but still his playful nature and his childish laugh was not setting right with his appearance.

"Why? I can call you anything."

"Just wait until I tell this to my boyfriend." you chuckled while looking around the flower shop, "Where is the owner?"

You never used your boyfriend's name in front of anyone, always referring to some silly names or simply 'my boyfriend'. No one has ever seen your so-called boyfriend but they know you always have the adoration while speaking of him—- of them.

"I don't know about him. Hey! Why are you asking for the owner when I'm here?" He whined and you shook your head in disbelief with the attitude.

"How old are you? And I need him to choose some exact flowers for the decoration and a perfect perfume to give my boyfriend." you smiled at the thought of surprising them with everything. He nodded with a pout and stood by your side while you were staring at some beautiful bouquets, "Is your boyfriend nice? You can tell me if you have any problems. You have said he lives outside this country but if he turns out as a cheater. I will show him hell."

"Of course, Wooyuong. There's nothing to worry about. I am fine and he is a very nice man. Maybe someday you can meet him and also, I'm doing all these preparations for our anniversary."

The owner just entered the door and greeted you both when the other one smiled at you before exiting the door.

.

.

.

One week left for your anniversary.

"So, I was right. She is going to this shop almost every day and according to Winwin, our enemy's last location was this shop."

They couldn't believe the pictures and the tracking location of the devices that were showing on the very big screen displayed in front of them. The undercover spy has clicked the pictures of you meeting with a young man well dressed up in a suit and you were hugging him with a smile, also in another picture, you were receiving flowers. The different gestures between you both were assuming that there was a deeper bonding than they can think of. Everything was pretty much fine until the call list and tracking device of yours and their enemy matches exactly.

"Jungwoo, have you gone to this shop before?" Taeyong asked when he placed himself on the sofa.

The hacker shook his head, "no, I never bought anything from there. I thought she knew the owner of the shop, that's why she is going there but it turned out she is meeting the owner of the device who is apparently our enemy. We need to find who is the owner. Winwin even followed her one day and guess what? They were planning for a big event and also went on a date."

"A date?" Mark had a confused look on his face.

Jungwoo nodded and Jaehyun continued, "yeah, she is meeting these certain people every often and that's why you can't find her in the cafe. And this one person is very common."

"That's Wooyoung, a member of the gang, Ateez. the shop owner is his best friend, just for cover." Winwin started from beside Doyoung who quickly turned towards him in surprise.

Taeyong scoffed in irritation, "So that's him? He blew our basement? I was so sure that somebody leaked our plan when we were having the mission in a different state and look, he took that advantage to attack on our base."

"And you think?" Doyoung raised a brow.

"She...she told him?" Taeyong didn't even want to say it but still he did. He blamed you. He doubted you. There was no other option left other than suspecting you with their recent events going on around them. He curled his fingers into a fist, suppressing the anger and hurt.

Mark leaned back into his chair, "we must be wrong somewhere. Or things have not been placed in the correct way."

"No. When I told Jungwoo for the first time, neither me nor him believed this but after one week of research. We are sure that she is involved with this." Winwin himself didn't want to believe what he was voicing out.

His own voice was betraying him. Was your love for them just a facade to destroy them in the end? Were you playing with their feelings? What? NO! This can't be, you are not like that. He couldn't convince anyone, maybe he was not even trying to convince anyone. No one was ready to believe that you were planning something worse behind their back, just to destroy them to get in with a man. The man who is apparently their enemy's gang member.

Mark stood up. A sad look visible on his face, fighting back the urge to cry in front of them. He couldn't hear more about suspecting you. Even if you are wrong, he still wants to see you and love you. His gaze shifted from the leader towards the large wide window, the setting of the sun was visible, "our anniversary is in almost 10 days. I hope we won't be doing something to ruin the day."

The words hit them altogether. Anniversary...they have bought a lot of gifts for you and they have arranged a trip for all of you to spend time together.

He turned around and Taeyong closed his eyes, heaving a sigh. Everyone was in disbelief and fighting whether they should blame you or...or what? There's nothing to think about anymore.

"Hey!  you all here?" your cheerful voice broke the silence. The atmosphere was already tense inside the house but your presence was making it worse. To your oblivion, they shared glances between them when Jaehyun noticed some things in your hold. His jaw clenched at the sight and he stepped towards you.

"Who gave you this?"

You furrowed your brows before looking down and then a smile cracked on your face. Everyone noticed the shift in expression when you held the flowers tightly, "Um...someone. A friend?"

"Friend." he scoffed and glared at you. His expression surprised you and then when you looked around the room, you noticed others were looking at you with no emotions visible. It felt so distant as if you were missing something. But what's even the matter? Mark was standing on the first step of the stairs, when you caught his eyes, there was a hurt look— the look of betrayal.

"Mark-" the young boy didn't wait to hear you when he abruptly turned around and ascended the stairs, without even looking back at you. What happened?

"Where were you?" Doyoung asked with folded hands above his chest, supporting himself against the table. His dark and sharp eyes staring at you, waiting for a quick reply.

"I...I went to the cafe."

"You were not there. Don't lie. Just tell me exactly, where were you?"

Taeyong darkly chuckled, "of course to meet her friend. Right? So, had fun on the date?"

"Date?"

Jaehyun turned to him, "don't pretend that you don't know. You went on a date with your little friend, right?"

You shook your head when Jungwoo pointed at your large plastic bag, "what's all these?"

You tried to hide it behind your back only to get yanked away, "why are you hiding it?" He glared at your action.

"What's wrong with you all?"

"What's wrong with you? Are you planning something behind our back?" His words hurt you. No, it shocked you. Are they doubting you for something?

The phone in your pocket started ringing and when Jaehyun didn't loosen his grip on you, you snatched your arm away and glared at him. Fishing out the phone, you held it to your ear and greeted the person. Before walking towards your room, you snatched away the plastic bag from him and no one protested but watched you going away.

No one moved from their places but only Winwin followed you behind.

.

.

.

Three days have already passed since that day.

You didn't talk with anyone normally. Everytime, they would be looking at you accusingly or asking you some weird questions about why you were hiding things from them.

but , there was nothing to hide in the first place---- except for the celebration.

Only one week left and when you just wanted to go out finally to arrange the last things of the preparation. Doyoung blocked your way.

"You are not going anywhere."

"Huh?"

Jaehyun came up behind you and harshly pulled you to a particular direction, "your game is over, y/n. Just give up now. You can't hide anything from us now."

The other one walked just closely behind you, gun in his hand. "I can't believe you that after the things we did, only for you to betray us."

"Please Jaehyun...Trust me. you must be wrong somewhere. I am not hiding anything. I promise." Your voice was broken yet he was not glancing at you but dragging you towards the stairs. The grip on your wrist tightened when you tried to pull your hand away. The wrist was burning from his harsh grip.

There were two uncoordinated footsteps from behind you both and when the youngest of them spoke up, you glanced at them. Mark was trying to stop the leader from stepping forward but the latter was just fuming and when he caught your glistening eyes, he sent a glare at you.

"please..." you whimpered when he took the turn and stopped at the first step of the stairs. He inhaled sharply and glared at you before glancing at the leader.

"take her downstairs." He simply ordered and the latter nodded.

Mark held Jaehyun's other hand, "No. Don't. Please, we should listen to her. We must be wrong somewhere. Please don't take her there."

But he dragged you down, stumbling over a few places but he didn't care. No one cared at the moment. As if your voice was not even audible to their ears.

You have never been to this place before and the dark, dimly lit room with a damp smell was making churn in your stomach. The others were already present inside the room and their focus was on you— the helpless figure. He harshly pulled you towards the chair behind the interrogating desk and made you sit on it. Your head turned towards each one of them, no one was having any sympathy for you. Maybe they had but trying not to show it.

"Why are you doing this? Please get me out of here." tears were flowing down your cheek. Before you could wipe off your tears, Jungwoo gripped your wrist and tied them to the armrest. Winwin took away the phone from you and placed it on the table. Taeyong placed himself on the chair across from you and stared at your tied up form. Doyoung stood beside him, palm resting on the head of the leather chair.

"So, from where should we begin?"

You remained quiet. Not because you didn't want to talk but because you didn't know what to say. Mind still processing the situation and why they all were keeping you tied up like a criminal. Do they not trust you?

You stared at him with silent tears falling from your eyes. Jaehyun and Jungwoo stood beside you on both sides, neither of them speaking anything and not even looking at you. Only glancing now and then.

"How do you know Wooyoung?" the leader asked the first question and leaned forward on the table.

"Wooyoung?"

Doyoung tilted his head to the side, "yes. Even that day he gave you those flowers. Having good times with the enemy. Right, y/n?"

"Enemy? He is my old friend from university."

The leader was not buying your words, "our enemy is your friend now. Since when are you against us?"

"What are you saying, Taeyong? I would never. I..." you were almost spilling the secrets but held back the words that were about to come out from your lips, "we just recently reunited at the flower shop. He was just...helping me out with something."

"Helping you out to chalk out a plan to kill us?" Winwin offered you an option for your choice of words. You shook your head at him and returned to face the leader. He didn't have any emotions for you. No more those endearing smiles and caring eyes looking at you but a strong and accusing eyes blaming you for everything.

"No, it's not like that."

"There's no point in you lying on our face. You can't fight back, y/n. There's six of us and only, you alone."

You parted your lips and tried to shift forward when Jungwoo held you back. You raised your head to look at him but he just avoided your eyes. Does he hate me so much?  "You all should understand this. I am alone, I can't do anything to harm you all and... I can never think of hurting any of you."

"Don't pretend to be the innocent one like always." Jaehyun spat at you. "It was all a facade to make us trust you. To make us weak for you so that you can easily break into our life and destroy us from the core."

"Jaehyun..." you whispered his name but a long silence followed your longing gaze on him. How could he blame you like this? They never used such a tone with you.

"He is correct. It was only you who knew about our absence for a whole week from the city and during that exact time, Ateez attacked our warehouse. Isn't this a coordinated plan?" Taeyong was irritated with each word coming out of his mouth.

"And you think I told him?"

Winwin caught your attention, "of course. The enemy whom we were tracking has his every location around you. His every location was colliding with yours. The flower shop belongs to them and it's just undercover to hide their spies in that busy street. Your activity was very frequent during the time of the blast."

"It must be a coincidence...I am not aware of all these." you plead to them for mercy but none of them were convinced. It all seemed as an act to break away from them and to run to their enemy for help.

"We thought that too but you have a deep connection with him. Even keeping your meet-ups a secret from us. Don't think of us like fools."

"Mark, you are a fool. All of you are foolish to think of me going against you. He is just my friend and we were just hanging out after some arrangements and if I knew he was the menber of a gang, I would never have spoken to him. But...but he won't hurt me or any of you. He doesn't even know you all are my boyfriends."

"Because for your benefit. So that you can go on dates with him." Jaehyun scoffed at the end of the sentence.

Taeyong slammed his hand to gain your attention back on him. His eyes were raging and he was fuming with anger. You flinched at the sound and scaredly turned towards him when he spoke up, "Now tell me, what do you want from us?"

You shook your head and bit your lips to prevent yourself breaking down more.

"I said speak up, y/n!"

Your broken voice and hiccups echoed the room, "I...I want n-nothing. I just want......your love."

"Shut up!"

"Jaehyun, keep quiet." Doyoung shushed the tall man beside you but you were already hurt too much. You were exhausted after crying so much, the unfamiliar and confined environment was suffocating you. You just wanted to get out of the place and run away, far away and hide from them. You were scared to say anything anymore or they could have done something more.

"You are going to stay here unless you are willing to tell the truth." Taeyong said and stood up to turn towards the door.

You shook your head frantically to not to leave you there. But no one minded your scared form. You were nothing more than a liar to them.

"Please listen to me..."

Jaehyun grabbed your cheeks, his fingers digging into your flesh, "you are only going to speak the truth or else shut your mouth." he harshly jerked your head to the side.

One by one everyone left the room except the one who was almost standing silently since he came here. He stayed back inside the room. When you noticed his gaze on you, there was a hurt look like that day.

"Why did you do this?"

"I did nothing."

He looked up at the ceiling and then at you, "then please confess the truth. I can't see you like this."

"I'm telling you the truth, Mark. he is just my friend. I didn't help him with anything."

Doyoung came back to the room to find the younger one standing at the door. He informed the younger one to stay with you, not to leave you alone down in the basement. He nodded his head in acceptance. You don’t know if It was because they told him to stay behind out of love or they think you could try to run away from them.

Mark actually wanted to stay with you though. He just can't leave you alone.

Doyoung stepped inside the room to take the phone from the table. When he came in sight of your vision, you looked away to avoid him. He waited for a moment but left the room eventually when you didn't look at him.

"Mark, don't get swayed by her?"

They had some whispering conversation outside the door and you zoned out to think about the day, how you were so excited to finally wrap the different gifts for them and then prepare the last arrangement because this last week was supposed to be spending time with them together. But everything went down the hill.

When Mark returned inside the room, he saw you sleeping on the chair uncomfortably. He stepped forward and tugged your hairs behind the ears to have a clear look of your face. You looked so peaceful but your face was stained with sweat and tears. He caressed your soft skin and tears fell from his eyes, he was sorry to you. He untied your wrists and pulled you on his lap on the floor. Resting your head against his chest, his fingers stroked you and he lulled you to sleep.

"I'm sorry, y/n."

.

.

.

The next two days were just you refusing all the foods they offered and you were getting weak. Even if they didn't hurt you physically, but their words, their hatred looks and their harsh and hurtful touches with their accusing tone was enough to break your every inch.

Doyoung didn't let you stay in the basement but kept you locked in his room. He promised his leader that he won't let you escape the house.

Just before the two days of your anniversary, they got an email from someone. It was labeled with a secret code so when they clicked on it, they found out that it was from someone unknown. They have sent some confidential documents. Jungwoo didn't waste any time before clicking open it only to get a shock. Everyone scooted closer to him.

'How is Y/n? Suspecting her now? Oh, poor girl. Don't worry. I will kill her soon anyways. '

There were all the details under the small links. Whatever they saw was right but the actual explanation to their assumption was what you were saying, not how they interpreted earlier. Wooyoung was just your friend, nothing more and he didn't have any intention to harm you or others. Ateez didn't even attack their base.

Then who is this person?

Is he alive?

Jaehyun threw the glass away in frustration.

"Where is this shit? I will kill him."

Winwin quickly followed some images, "the dreamies are trying to track the id. Hyuck is currently scanning the codes. but... I don't know why this person wants to kill her."

"I'm not leaving her alone for any more second."

Doyoung jogged towards the room only to find you sleeping beside the window stool. Taeyong followed him closely behind and he noticed the dried tears on your face and the other one was quick to pick you up in his arms, "y/n, look at me. You don't have to be here anymore. I'm taking you out of this place. I'm so sorry."

Your breathing was so faint and it scared him.

He peppered your face with kisses, you were so weak and exhausted. There was no reply from you and he shook your body again.

"She must be unconscious. Let's clean her up and let her rest for a while. When she wakes up, I will feed her." Taeyong offered him.

They both nodded and exited the room. Promising to themselves that they won't ever let you be in this sort of situation again.

When they appeared in front of the others, they saw your unconscious body in his hold. Their hearts clenched at the sight, the pain striking through their body.

How could they just blame you and act deaf ears to your pleadings?

"I'm coming with you." Mark approached him and took you in his arms before going towards his room with Doyoung trailing behind him.

Taeyong ordered Jungwoo and Winwin to contact Dreamies for further discussions about the situation and let others disperse to their respective activities.

No one was willing to leave your side but they had no option other than waiting for you to get consciousness. But Jaehyun quietly walked towards your room to take a glimpse of you.

He was hesitating to enter the room but eventually stepped inside and found them inside the bathroom. They were carefully looking after you.

"Is she okay?"

His sudden voice made the two males turn their head towards him, "of course she is. We are here to keep her safe."

After a while, you were dressed in a pair of comfortable top and loose pants. Mark carefully tugged you in the bed before sitting beside your sleeping figure and caressing the hairs, Doyoung sat near your legs and Jaehyun kept his distance from the bed.

"Let her rest for a while. Taeyong will bring her the food."

They all left the room but Jaehyun went near to you and caressed your head, kissing your temple he whispered, “I’m so sorry, love.”

After a while when you woke up, only to find Taeyong sitting by your side with medicines and food placed on the table that he pulled beside the bed. Your head was spinning a bit but still he helped you sit up and placed the pillow behind you to make you comfortable. Before you could say anything, he caressed your head and smiled at you, following a kiss to the side of your head.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I was so wrong about you."

You remained quiet and just observed how he lifted the bowl from the table and stirred the soup, tasting a spoonful and turning towards you with a spoon.

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"y-you are not mad at me anymore? Please trust me-"

He put the spoon back into the bowl and placed a finger on your lips, "I trust you. Y/n, I love you. I'm regretting treating you like that. It hurts you a lot to see us blaming you for something you didn't do. But I promise you, you will never have to be like this again. I will make this up to you."

"Really? And others...Are they?"

"they are equally sorry, y/n. we just couldn't help but think all that......why were you at the shop though?" he quickly asked you the thing that was still bugging his mind.

"Um...you will know soon. It's a secret." You expectantly stared at him to see his reaction but he just smiled when he brought the spoon to your lips. You quickly parted open your lips to taste the spoon and hummed in the wonderful warm taste. It melted on your tongue like you were melting under his touch.

"I won't ever hurt you."

"I know, Taeyong. You have so much responsibility but I think I made you scared going out here and there. But trust me it's a good secret, nothing to worry about."

"Can't you tell me now?" he pouted and blinked at you.

"No. Then what's the point of the secret?"

"Is this about-"

Someone entered the room and he was quick to sit on your other side and hugged you from the side.

"I'm so sorry baby. Please forgive me. I don't want you to stay away from me." he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck and your fingers entangled with his hairs when he leaned to your body more. Taeyong was still making sure to finish the soup and shook his head at the boy clinging onto you.

"Hey, Mark. It's okay. I was just shocked with you all behaving like that." You said slowly and he nodded, muttering a flow of apologies. The leader wiped your mouth when you finished the food and handed you the medicine to take but when you refused it. Both of them tickled you and joked around and ended up with Mark holding you down on the bed and the oldest one putting inside the medicine and handing you the glass.

Three of you spent some time together before Taeyong left when he caught a call from Jungwoo and he hugged you before pressing a long and soft kiss on your temple then hurrying to take the call. Where you and Mark ended up cuddling together.

"That night..." he was spooning you while your back was pressed against his chest and his one leg was flung upon yours. His fingers were playing with yours when you both were watching the screen displaying a movie.

You hummed in response, "you made me sleep on your lap. I woke up from a nightmare but I felt so secure with you. Thank you."

"I love you. I love you so much baby."

"I love you more, mark." You turned around and cupped his face. Your eyes searched for a particular emotion before pressing your lips to his. He was surprised by your move but when you tried to pull away your face, he held the back of your neck and pulled you closer, making the kiss rough and passionate. Both fighting for dominance but still enjoying the power of each other. You smiled and squirmed when he slid his hand under your tee. His kisses traveled down to your jaw and sloppily kissed your cheek. Admiringly, watching each other, he dipped his head down and bit the soft flesh of your neck, he groaned when you moaned his name. When he hooked a finger with the band of your shorts, you held his wrist.

He quickly stopped his actions and looked at you, cupping your cheeks and shock visible on his face. You chuckled at his reaction and he worriedly asked you, "Is there something wrong?"

It's not like you haven't done this before with him but there was something for which you wanted to wait.

"Can you wait for one more day?"

"Before our anniversary?"

You nodded and he smiled before pecking your lips.

"Of course, I can."

.

.

.

The day before the celebration. You asked them if you could go out. They felt as if they did something wrong that you were taking permission like a child. You bit your lips and stared at them when they were all similarly staring back at you.

Taeyong broke the awkward moment, "I think someone should speak."

"You did just now."

He glared at Jaehyun, who looked away holding back his laugh. The others snickered and you laughed loudly. All of their attention turned back at your standing figure in an elegant knee length dress.

"You all can go with me."

"We?" Winwin asked you and you quickly nodded.

"So?"

They all looked at each other before agreeing and stood up. The one that was hesitant to come near you was Jaehyun. When they all walked towards the door, conversing and joking among them, he remained at the same place. He felt someone entangled a hand with his and when he looked down at his side, you were smiling brightly at him.

"Let's go, my prince."

"Y/n...you.."

You pulled him towards the door. But he was staring at you like a lost man, who knew nothing other than the directions you would give him. He smiled when he noticed the dress you were wearing was the one he gave you on your birthday last time.

"I'm trying to forget about that day so please don't remind me."

He stopped in his track and you turned towards him, "what happe-"

He pressed his lips to yours. He was laughing between the kisses when you were trying to say something. He pulled apart and you glared at him before looking at your appearance on the phone screen.

"you ruined my lipstick."

"I would have ruined you but it's okay coz it's just the lipstick for now."

"Jae..." you groaned but he grabbed your chin softly and other hand quickly went up , a finger wiping away the smudged out portion and then patted your cheek with the clean fingers.

"you look beautiful like always."

Doyoung came back and pulled you both towards the car.

The car ride was fun. Except for Jungwoo clinging onto your side ans asking you the same question repeatedly, "why can't we know the secret now? Please, y/n."

"I am surprised all of you are in a gang."

Taeyong chuckled, "don't add him. He doesn't do anything other than hacking and intruding other's business from his private place."

He scoffed in reply, "at least I keep company with our girl. Right?"

You nodded. It's not like they were not serious with their job. When the work mode is on, you wouldn't even match the people who are the same with the ones you are currently laughing with. Even you get scared. Okay, last time you really got.

Arriving at the mall, you quickly got out of the car to make a quick call with your friend. You told her to receive the perfumes and flowers from the shop tomorrow morning and keep them in the café. You wanted to celebrate your anniversary at the café and your friend was helping you to get all the orders ready for tomorrow so that today, you can spend your day with the boys.

You bought a lot of things, some necessary and some unnecessary. Jungwoo was with you and others went off to other places.

"you are buying us gifts but not letting us buy for you."

"tomorrow."

"Why? I can buy it today. Wait, I can buy for you everyday."

"Don't show off." You turned around to look at the dress when he picked one from the other row and handed it to you, "wear this tomorrow. This is so perfect."

"are you serious? Do you know my size?"

He smirked and bent to whisper in your ears, "I know every inch and curves how they would fit them and how it would be easy to rip off."

Your eyes went round and you hit his arm when he burst out laughing, "Jungwoo!"

You snatched the dress and walked towards the trial room and when you put on the dress, it seemed like it was the one for you. As if They will marry you tomorrow. Marriage...

Jungwoo knocked at the door and when you opened it, he pushed you inside and locked the door behind.

"what happened?"

"I don't want others to get to see you before me." his gaze moved and his breath hitched. You were looking more beautiful than he projected an imagery picture of you in the dress in his mind.

He pecked your lips and then your temple, "you look like mine. I love you, y/n."

"Always yours. I love you so much Jungwoo."

Done with the things you wanted to buy. Jungwoo went to where Jaehyun was and you were alone walking through the newborn section and smiling. You picked up a pink baby wrap towel and someone back hugged you.

"why are you buying this?" his deep voice sent a shiver down your body.

"I am not buying...just watching... they are so cute. Look at this, Taeyong."

He pressed a kiss on your cheek, "We can someday when we will have a baby."

You turned around when his arms dropped down, "it will be soon."

He smirked to see the excitement on your face, he tugged your hairs before raising a brow, "so am I getting the hint to spend some time with me and then we can expand our family. You and I and our daughter."

"you want a girl?"

"I'm fine with both but to have a girl. I love the idea of mini you running around the house and us all chasing her around."

You hugged him tightly, "I love you, Taeyong."

"I love you too, my princess."

"Wait for tomorrow, please."

"Of course."

.

.

You all went home after almost buying the whole mall and Jaehyun was casually showing off and showing smirks that he brought the costliest items. Oh boy! How wrong he is. He should just see the expenses of Taeyong. Winwin whispered to you that he would be sleeping with you because both of you haven't spent a night together. You agreed quickly.

After the dinner when you were going towards the room, Winwin asked you to go with him to the garden and of course, you would.

"So why are we here?" you were staring up at the sky while sitting on the outdoor swing with him by your side.

"I'm sorry." He muttered quietly.

"I know."

He turned towards you and shook his head, "don't forgive us so easily, y/n. we don't deserve it."

"Then don't say sorry. Stop reminding me about that. Think about tomorrow and let us enjoy the night."

He caressed your head, " you are the sweetest one. The innocent one in our life and I don't want to hurt you but still I did."

"And I forgive you."

He sadly chuckled and pulled you closer, "Can you tell me the secret for tomorrow?"

You stared at him and waited if he wanted to say something but when he didn't, you kissed his cheek and smiled, "No. You have to wait."

"Are you planning a surprise? For us?"

"Maybe...or something more than you can expect."

He furrowed his brows when you caressed his cheek softly, "see...you are the innocent one now."

"really?" he grabbed your neck and pulled you in for a hungry and deep kiss. You were laughing and clutching his shirt. His other hand was caressing your back and hands, melting you under his control. He pulled apart and started panting for air.

"And now?"

"still the innocent." As the words left your mouth, he swept you in his arms and turned round and round. Both of your laughs echoed in the garden.

"I love you...I love you...I love you, My innocent girl."

"I love you too, my innocent boy."

Your teasing made him tickle you in his hold and you laughed out more.

Taeyong was watching you from his balcony with the wine in his hand. He was smiling ear to ear seeing you so happy.

He would keep you safe till the end.

.

.

.

Finally THE DAY.

Winwin woke you up, calling out your name lightly and keeping you close to him. He peppered your face with kisses and you were giggling all the way when he scooped you in his arms and took you to the bathroom to get ready. You looked at the mirror and felt so happy, quickly did your morning routine before running down the stairs to greet your boys. But you could only find Doyoung at the table preparing the plates and decorating it with the final touch.

The house looked amazing.

"Don't tell me you all did this within a night."

"Then What do you think? You were blind to not notice it till yesterday?"

You reached near the table and when you went to pick up a pancake, he swatted your hand away and you whined.

"Let others come. No eating before greeting."

"No greetings to you."

You turned around and folded your hands above your chest, he chuckled and with slow steps went behind you and snaked his arms around, resting his head on your shoulder.

"Happy Anniversary, My love." He kissed your shoulder, the deep round neckline of the dress gave him access to your soft flesh. Your hairs were tied up and he kissed the crook of your neck and his teeth grazing the skin and licking the jaw, "I love you, y/n."

"Doyoung, I love you. Happy Anniversary."

He turned you around to kiss you. His kisses are always soft and takes his whole time to devour the moment. Just like now, he didn't care what others will see but he just wanted to show you his love for you.

You were smiling all the while but the sweet moment got interrupted by the one who could enter the place without any sound but to disturb you both, he purposely made sounds.

"Did I interrupt something?"

"Yes. My love life." Doyoung spat at him and groaned but didn't let you go when the other one laughed and came near you.

You pulled apart from the kiss and looked at Taeyong. The other one was back hugging you and nuzzling his nose into your neck.

Taeyong cupped your cheek, "happy anniversary, princess."

"Happy anniversary girl's dad."

"Huh?"

"Nothing." You laughed out and noticed Jungwoo and Winwin entering the place when one of them muttered a quiet happy anniversary to you because he was always shy in front of others but the other one had to make it dramatic.

"Everyone. Present here. Wait two are missing."

All of you were watching his stupid act, standing on the chair. He craned his neck to look at the stairs and waited for a few seconds before Mark and Jaehyun walked down with bright smiles on their faces.

"Okay here we have Mark and Jaehyun. Then We have Winwin at the table. Mr. Taeyong and Doyoung with our special girl, y/n." He stepped forward to you and took out a flower and kissed it before extending it to you, " a token of love for my precious soul."

"Thank you. Happy Anniversary to my dramatic love."

"Happy Anniversary, y/n." He pulled you away from the one hugging you and stepped towards the table.

You sat between Jaehyun and Mark and they both greeted you following with a smile and soft kiss. Doyoung cut a piece of the pancake and brought it to your lips. You chuckled and quickly ate it.

"Are these all for me?"you asked them.

"Yes. All for the special one." Mark excitedly said and kissed your cheek.

Winwin cleared his throat from across the table, "so what should we do today?"

"Give her the gifts."Mark proposed the idea but you quickly shook your head.

"No not now. My surprise is still left."

"Wait. Yeah, the secret. So tell me." Winwin happily nodded and stared at you.

"No. Get dressed. We are going to my cafe and then everything will be revealed."

"Promise?"

"Of course, Doyoung."

They all quickly dressed up in some denims or leathers but of course they were looking fine individually. You couldn't take your eyes from one of them. Are you even matching with them?

You looked down at your dress and Jungwoo grabbed your shoulders to face them.

"How is she looking?"

The moment their gaze fell on you, everyone stopped, everything was still, a look of adoration and love painted across their faces. They approached where you were shyly looking away when Jungwoo was keeping you in place.

"You look like my queen, love." Taeyong took your hand and kissed the back of your hand. Jaehyun kissed the side of your head and pulled you towards him, "well, we have something more to say but let's go to the cafe first."

"Then let's go."

It didn't take much time to reach the destination but as soon as you stepped inside the door. You started to feel nervous and that did get noticed by them. They were mesmerized by the wonderful decoration that you did and planned for the day. Somewhere, they felt sorry to even blame you for keeping secrets for this. Doyoung didn't leave your hand when you were showing around the details you organized which perfectly matched all six of their likings but the moment they came across the pink box with a letter on top of it. You stopped them.

"Wait!"

They all turned towards you.

"There's something I want to tell you."

Taeyong smiled at you, "go ahead."

"No. First you gave me the surprise and then I did so now it's your turn to tell me first and then I will. How about this?"

Mark smiled and approached you, hugging you from behind and then you noticed Taeyong pulling out a box from his leather jacket.

"Woah! What's that?"

"It's-"

“Y/n!”

“Y/n!”

"Y/n!"

You knew your friend's voice and when you heard her screaming from outside, you ran towards the door and pushed it open.

The boys shouted out your name but you didn't listen and searched for your friend outside the cafe.

There was no one.

No one on the silent and peaceful afternoon street. You felt weird because you were so sure that you heard your friend call out for you so many times.

Are you hearing things?

You felt someone watching you. You looked in each direction but you couldn't see anyone. The boys already exited the cafe.

"Who was there?" Winwin asked while looking around.

"I heard my friend calling for me."

"Then where is she?"

"I don't know."

Doyoung stepped in front of you and held your wrist, "let's go inside. Maybe she was fooling around."

You nodded and turned around with them.

But the moment you took a step.

All of you heard a gunshot.

What happened?

"Ah...D-doyoung."

"Y/n!"

As soon as they saw you, blood was flowing out of your chest. You got shot? Who shot you? They frantically looked around but there was no one in their sight. Doyoung sat on his knees when he felt your limp body leaning on him.

"It's okay, y/n. I will save you. Just wait for a while. We will take you to the hospital soon."

He held your hand when Mark was searching for a way to stop the flow of blood. But his mind was not working and processing the things to do.

The day started with so much joy and love but suddenly what just happened?

Both of the men by your side were scared. Scared to lose you. You were fighting back the urge to seep into sleep but clutched his hand tightly to stay awake. Mark was repeatedly telling you to keep your eyes open.

"Baring the car. Do it fast." Taeyong pushed Jaehyun towards the car but you weakly called out their names and asked them to come to you.

"Just take her to the hospital. Now!"

"Mark. No...I-i don't think I can make it."

"No no y/n. You can." He pressed your hand, which was clutching your chest.

"Taeyong, tell me what you wanted to say. Please"

"Let's go to the hospital."

you shook your head and looked at Winwin, "Can you bring me the pink box? please..." you coughed. Jaehyun already went to bring the car and you were clutching Doyoung's hand tightly. tears escaping your eyes even though you didn't want to cry. Winwin jogged inside the cafe and quickly he picked up the note and the box and wasting no more time, he went towards you.

"Get inside." Jaehyun opened the door for you all.

"Taeyong, tell me please."

he was hesitant to tell you at that moment but wasting unnecessary time means risking your life more. your breath was heaving and Mark was trying his best to keep you awake. Winwin approached the scene and when you noticed him, you weakly smiled at him.

But Taeyong pulled out the black box from his jacket and opened it. your glistening eyes blinked slowly, everything was blur, you could feel a small thing placed on your palm. Taeyong took your hand away from Doyoung's shirt.

you brought the thing closer to you.

It's a ring.

before you could say anything. you all entered the care. you were still looking at the ring. When Jungwoo noticed your fixed gaze on the ring and your grip was about to loosen. He curled your fingers and held your fist tightly. 

Taeyong held back his tears and weakly said from the passenger seat, "we were going to ask you to marry us. A proposal ring."

you heard them. you wanted to say a lot of things but you couldn't. you wanted to say something else at the moment.

"Winwin, give the box to Taeyong." he was quick to follow your words. Jaehyun was often glancing at you from the rear mirror and to the front. their base hospital is a bit far away and they couldn't risk you reaching there so whatever problem they have to face, they were going to if they had to go to the city hospital.

Winwin kept the note in his hand and it was shaking in his hold. 

"trust me...i love you......" you weakly whispered but the one holding you heard it.

"Y/n...y/n...don't close your eyes...please..hey stay awake."

you didn't open your eyes.

nor you were clutching his hand.

"y/n..."

"drive faster!" Taeyong almost shouted at him.

Mark hesitatingly asked, "what's inside the box?"

Taeyong stared at it for a while and then when he opened it. A tear dropped inside the box. Jaehyun's breath hitched and looked at you but your eyes were closed. 

"Y/n...baby..."

aren't you going to smile at him? atleast for the last time.

Congratulations! It's a girl.'

Mark snatched the box from him and his eyes went wide. he urged the other to open the note and there it was, you have ranted everything like always and in the end,

'I collected some flowers for each day after I got the news of pregnancy. I could tell you earlier but I wanted to say it on a special day. I am not hiding anything from you except this. Just trust me. I want to give it to you all as a surprise.'

Jungwoo brought your hand to his lips to plant a kiss.

Doyoung pressed a kiss on your temple, "I trust you."

Are you just going to leave them now?

They won’t trust anything anymore when you didn’t even say the final goodbye.

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. If my favoritism is showing with some members then please try to understand oz they are my bias.

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

[open!]

#kvanity #nct #nct x reader #nct u #nct angst #nct fluff #nct taeyong #nct doyoung #nct jaehyun #nct winwin #nct jungwoo #nct mark #poly nct #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct u x reader #taeyong x reader #doyoung x reader #jung jaehyun x reader #wayv winwin #winwin x reader #jungwoo x reader #mark x reader #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #nct mafia fic #nct mafia au

[sinisxtea]

played nct zone. saw meme potential. this was the chaos that ensured.

#nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct wish #nct u #wayv #nct memes #mark lee #nct wayv #chenle #nct meme #nct shitpost #nct social media au #nct smau #renjun #jaemin #winwin #taeil #moon taeil #park jisung #jaehyun #johnny suh #SORTA SOCIAL MEDIA AU??? not really #WINWINS AND TAEILS MADE ME CRACK UP #i love tumblr dot com <3

[hyuckilworld]

bf!winwin texts

idol/actor!winwin x non-idol!female reader featuring a small fight at the end.

#nct #nct social au #nct social media au #nct reader insert #winwin #wayv #wayv social au #wayv texts #winwin texts #wayv x reader #nct x reader #wayv scenarios #winwin scenarios #hyuckilworld

[planetkiimchi]

this turn of events | d.sc

featuring: guard!winwin x royalty!reader

word count: 1172 words

author's note: every time i write something with wayv i can and will make them speak in chinese / their dialects if possible, so i guess we can’t really be surprised that when i say “their language”, i really just mean wenzhounese. i can’t speak wenzhounese myself, so i’m trusting google on this one. hope you enjoy <3

author's note 2.0: winwin believes in fate btw. if you even care. (source: the panda video at 3.40)

taglist: @slytherinshua ,, @welcometomyoasis

masterlist | < prev | next >

Sicheng glanced up at you, his ruler, and his heart softened. You were strong, courageous, but most of all, you were whole. You had been split apart time and time again and you still stood there, fully whole and scarred from the fractures. You smiled your glorious smile, the one that made kingdoms crumble and cities tremble, that led countries to their downfall.

In his heart, he didn’t think he had ever held so much love for anyone—not for his sister, whose hearing they were currently attending, not for the parents that had laboured to give him such a good life.

No, the only person he held in his heart was you, the hurricane that had dredged him out of the outer circle, that had molded this farmer’s son into the highest of the royal guard.

If your intoxicating aura could have been hidden away like a secret, in a cave full of treasures and wonder, they would have done you in. Yet, your spirit roamed free, never crushed underfoot by conquerors. The people's attitude had no effect on you, only providing a source of amusement which you enjoyed greatly.

Sometimes, when your eyes twinkled like that, mischief and resignation muddled in a cloudy mess of emotions, Sicheng was afraid. Not afraid of you—never afraid of you—but afraid for whoever had incited that mischief, for he knew it would never end well.

He knew that two months earlier, when he had attempted to break Sixue out of prison, that he had intentionally been left as the only guard on duty. You trusted him, and your brother hadn’t interfered, because he’d wanted to test Sicheng.

He hadn’t passed that test, evidenced by how they were gathered in that courtroom again, awaiting judgement.

Earlier, when Sixue had been led into the courtroom, her eyes haunted and dull, lips cracked and dry, Sicheng had felt a flash of a headache. It happened when you exerted a great amount of power over him, typically when he was being stubborn, but it was gone in an instant.

Because even without you controlling him, he could feel your stare against his back, and that alone was commanding enough for him to listen.

Sicheng hadn’t intended to go towards Sixue, even if her gaunt body and the blood that had dried crimson on her skin worried him. Because you had told him not to, and he trusted you with his life. By extension, he trusted you with Sixue’s as well.

One glance at you now, back rigid and gaze emotionless, would send shivers down anyone's spine. With your narrowed eyes, taut lips set into a line, it was easy to overlook the spots of pink dusting your cheeks, a telltale sign of your investment in this trial.

It hadn’t been hard for you to offhandedly make a decision to give Sixue a trial instead of immediately sending her for execution—and though Sicheng had bristled at how much power you held, he found comfort in the fact that you would never wield that power carelessly.

He wasn’t sure how you were intending to turn this trial in your favour when you weren’t allowed to speak, and as he watched Sixue, worry tugged at his heart. Upon questioning, Sixue’s words were hollow, hair hanging like a sheet in a drawn-back ponytail. Her fingers kept twitching, and Sicheng noticed her fingernails were grimy with dirt.

Sixue denied all of the accusations, which was a complete change from her attitude the last time she’d been brought before you. What Sicheng didn’t know was that you had instructed her to deny all accusations, and you would take care of the rest.

With little to no evidence to prove her guilt, and your silence encouraging the judge to let her go, Sixue was released.

Once the trial had ended, she was brought out of the courtroom, albeit no longer in chains.

Sicheng turned towards you, pleading gaze begging for your permission to speak to her, and you blinked slowly, guiding his foot to take one step in Sixue’s direction.

He didn’t need to be told twice, sprinting out of the courtroom and darting down the steps to where Sixue was, ready to wrench her out of the guards’ grasps, but then he caught himself, stopped, and inhaled.

“I’ll take it over from here.” He issued it like an order, the same way he imagined you would have, and the guards looked at each other before shrugging and handing her over.

As soon as they were out of earshot, backs turned towards the brother and sister, Sicheng wrapped Sixue in a hug so tight she had to pry herself out of it, gesturing to her blood-stained clothes and the bruises on her limbs.

“Agū.” She said one word, but the weight of it was unbearable for Sicheng. That one word was filled with years of memories, Sixue always turning to her older brother in times of trouble; when she scraped her knee or sprained her ankle, when she got tanned after spending too long in the sun and she cried because she would never be fair again.

Now, she was indeed fair, pale, even—and still she called out for Sicheng. Agū. He was her safe haven, the only constant in her life, the one who would attempt to rescue her even with the threat of execution hanging above his head.

She crumpled in his arms like paper, fragile and easily torn, so light and frail she might have flown away if the wind blew too hard.

“Why… why would the Crown do that for me?” she whispered, referring to you the way all peasants did, as “the Crown”, or in their language, huáng guān. 

“The Crown is a complex person,” he shrugs. “I’ve known them for so long, and yet I can never claim to know what exactly goes through their mind. I just know they’re not half as cruel as the rumours say.”

“They almost cut off my foot,” Sixue hissed, recoiling at the thought.

Sicheng rested one hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “The dagger would never have fallen on your foot. It was a mistake not to trust them then, because maybe if I’d left the dagger alone, they wouldn’t have sent you immediately for execution, and I wouldn’t have panicked and tried to break you—” He was cut off by Sixue clamping one hand over his mouth.

“Don’t voice it aloud. The walls have ears.”

Either way, as soon as Sicheng said it aloud, he knew that if he hadn’t changed the course of that dagger, you wouldn’t have had anything to bring your brother down with. In some ways, the world worked like that—if fate hadn’t brought him to you, he wouldn’t have had the money to keep his family alive.

Sixue would have spoken, but just then, you appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“My brother’s trial is in a short while,” you informed Sicheng. “Be ready.”

Sicheng nodded, and turned to Sixue. “Take care of yourself.”

Sixue hugged her brother once more and was off.

masterlist | < prev | next >

#🌀 — weather the storm #k-labels #wayv #winwin #nct #🪁 — my works #winwin x gn!reader #winwin x yn #winwin x y/n #wayv x gn!reader #wayv x yn #wayv x y/n #nct x gn!reader #nct x yn #nctx y/n #wayv fic #nct fic #kpop fic #wayv fanfic #royalty x guard #royalty au #guard au #wayv royalty au #nct royalty au

[obrell]

strawberry milkshake

photographer!xiaojun x fem!designer!reader

summary: y/n studied at the Faculty of Design at the university, where Xiaojun, the guy she hated, was in the Faculty of Photography. She didn't like him because Xiaojun was such a narcissist. Xiaojun didn't like y/n because she was annoying. They didn’t really know each other, but they already didn’t like each other. but what will happen if their mutual friend Chenle accidentally confuses the lists and they have to do a project together?

MASTERLIST

profiles 1 / profiles 2

1. y/n and chenle being traitors

2. you both are evils

3. chenle messed up, y/n and ravioli

4. xiaojun is having a whole mental breakdown

more coming soon !!

#nct au #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct fake texts #nct scenarios #nct x reader #xiaojun x reader #xiaojun #chenle #ningning #qian kun #xiaoting #winwin #sicheng #renjun #yuqi #gidle #kep1er #aespa #wayv smau #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #wayv texts #nct texts

[sluttyten]

UNHOLY - Chapter Four

full masterlist || UNHOLY chapter index

genre: supernatural au

characters: fem reader, yuta, ten, winwin, mark, others mentioned

tags: polyamory, smut!, public sex, religious content/struggle/corruption

length: 8,390 words

<-previous || next–>

After WinWin leaves, you sit there in that empty hallway for a little while. The fluorescent white light is such a stark difference to the dark club atmosphere right on the other side of the doors that you just want to linger here a little longer. So you do.

You sit there for at least another ten, twenty minutes. 

Eventually you stand up, you walk back through the doorway into the club, and you don’t look for Yuta or for Ten or Mark or any of the other even semi-familiar faces. You head for the exit, and you leave. You walk back through the underground by yourself, back through the city’s streets, and you ride the elevator up to your apartment alone. 

You shower, rinsing away the club’s stink and the sweat from your skin. You manifest yourself something to eat. 

You’ve just settled in on the sofa to eat the food when you hear a knock at the door. Quiet at first, but when you don’t answer, whoever is on the other side knocks again louder, and still unanswered after that, they pick up a frantic pounding knock.

Finally you stand, and checking first through the small peephole, you see that it’s Ten standing on the other side. He’s knocking continuously on the door, so when you throw it open, he nearly knocks you right in the face. His eyes are a stark black. 

“Thank fuck,” he hisses, sweeping in to wrap his arms around you. “You’re home! You disappeared, and we were so worried that something happened to you! Don’t do that!” Ten squeezes his arms tight, crushing you to his chest. “Yuta’s probably tearing apart Mark’s club right now looking for you.”

You slip out of the hug, stalking back over to the sofa to eat. “Well, maybe you should stop him.”

Ten shrugs, closing the apartment door behind him as he comes inside. “He’ll be here soon enough.”

“Good.” You stab at your dinner. “I need to talk to you both.”

“Oh? I don’t like the sound of that.” Ten settles down on the other end of the sofa. 

You shrug, avoiding eye contact as you say. “I made a decision. I want Yuta to send me home. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Silence falls in a thick blanket over the room. 

“Please don’t do this again,” Ten pleads. 

You don’t say a word, just quietly eat and ignore his presence. The TV plays quietly, though neither of you are watching it, it’s just offering up a quiet background white noise. 

“Don’t go,” Ten repeats. “I like having you around way too much. And you like it here, too, so I don’t understand. You’ve been enjoying everything, right? The places we’ve taken you, all the sights we’ve shown you, the people you met? Did we do something wrong?”

You frown. “No, you didn’t really do anything wrong.”

Ten frowns now too. “What does that mean?”

“I’m so tired of all of this supernatural shit. I don’t like that anyone I meet could actually be an evil non-human thing. I don’t like that thing that happened earlier tonight with that hallucination. A few weeks ago I didn’t even believe in demons or magic or any of this stuff, not really. Not as actual things that could come and take me away or influence me. I didn’t believe that I could be caught up in a magical hallucination that would feel so real. I certainly didn’t believe in demons as attractive, or even as people..” You close your eyes and move your dinner off to the coffee table. “A few weeks ago I only knew of Satan or Lucifer, nothing of any Queen of the Night or any of this other stuff. No demons or friendly vampires or horny werewolves. I miss my life. It was easy and not weird.”

“It was weird, you just didn’t know it.” Ten says with a sigh. One sideways peek through your eyelashes shows you that he’s drawn his feet up onto the sofa, knees up towards his chest with his arms wrapped around them as he looks at you. He’s got that normal human man look about him again, the one that makes you want to just crawl over and cuddle up to him. 

Ten watches you for a few long seconds, then he says, “What’s so bad about demons being people? You like Yuta and I, don’t you? And you like Mark? Why does it matter if we’re demons or vampires or anything else?” His eyes flicker between cat-slit pupils and regular human eyes for a split second, after which he says, “You’re right about werewolves, though. Fuck them.”

You turn your head fully to the side to look at him now. “Why do you guys hate werewolves so much?”

“They’re fucking dogs, and I’m a cat guy.” Ten makes a face of disgust. “They’re not all absolutely awful, but a lot of them are. They let the wolf side control them even when they’re human. I’ve met a few good ones in my time, but no matter how good or bad they are, provoke them just a little and suddenly you’re faced with a big, ugly dog.”

“Couldn’t I say something similar of you and Yuta?” You ask. “Sure, right now you pretty much look just like any other human guy, but piss you off and you have soulless black eyes and smell like sulfur, give off that otherworldly aura. Mark, too. Looks like a handsome guy, but then there’s the fangs and the blood-drinking and the mind games.” You scoff, then say, “All of you are freaks. No offense.”

Ten smiles, endeared by you as he untangles his arm from his legs so he can reach over towards you. He touches your hand as he says, “Darling, I think you’re the freak in this city. You can’t do any of that stuff. Not quite demonic enough to have control of your demon powers.”

You brush his hand away. You hate that reminder of your origin. The demonic blood they claim runs in your veins. You don’t feel it there. You don’t feel anything other than human and you’re so over all of this. You can’t be part-demon; it just doesn’t make sense. You were raised in the faith, going to Church, standing on holy ground. You went through the sacraments, said prayers, received blessings. There was no pain, no burning or itching when the pastor dabbed holy water or blessed oil or sacred ash onto your forehead as he murmured words of religious power. 

You squeeze your eyes shut. 

You want to go home. You want to be able to stand in the graveyard outside of the little church. You want to live a full life with your friends, to grow a little family of your own. You don’t want to be corrupted in this city of sin, of perpetual dusk and demons. You don’t want the options of love and family to be taken away from you. You’ve enjoyed your time here, but you miss all the comforts and normality of your life before this, a human life. 

It hits you all right now. Like a big wallop to your chest, you just hold that feeling of homesickness right there in your heart. 

So for a little while, you turn your back on Ten, you cover your eyes with your hands, and you cry. And for a little while Ten doesn’t move or say anything, just listening to the soft sound of your tears falling. 

But eventually he lifts a hand, running it soothingly up and down your back. You don’t push him away. You don’t cuss him out. Because, damn it, the comforting touch really feels so good. You do like Ten. You like Yuta too. You just want things to change. You want them to not be demons, to just be normal human guys who don’t remind you of the burden of mortal sin when you look at them. 

Ten slides closer. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, wrapping you in a back hug, holding you against him. “I’m sorry. We can take you back. We were just trying to protect you here. That’s all we wanted.”

“I just want to go home!”

Ten nods. Holding you tight, like he doesn’t want to let you go. “Yuta will be here soon. He can send you home.” Ten tucks his face against your shoulder, his breathing soft against your skin. 

Maybe it’s silly to wish to be somewhere far away, to wish that you’d never known a world like this one, to never have known the demons that are in your life. But you don’t try to pull yourself out of Ten’s arms. You let him hold you. You breathe in the scent of spice from his skin and soak in his natural demon heat. 

You don’t know how long you sit there together but eventually Ten whispers, “I’ll miss you,” and then, just like that, he’s gone. 

You curl in on yourself, crying on the sofa until a new presence makes itself known, a different heat, a different mixture of brimstone and bonfire smoke. He didn’t knock or even use the door; he just let himself in.

Yuta’s fingers are gentle when he strokes them along your cheek. “I think I know what these tears mean. Do you still want to leave?”

It’s so tempting to stay when you look at his face. His warm, gentle eyes. His touch soft on your cheek. You trust him. You like him. But WinWin’s words echo in your mind, telling you that you’re too good for this world, and that you’re better off out there.

“I’m tired of all of this shit,” you say. “I want to go home. No more monsters. You promised me—“

“I’ll take you home, pretty girl.” Yuta interrupts you, but he never looks away from your eyes. “I promised you I would if that’s what you really wanted.” He offers you his hand. 

You take it, fingers sliding across his palm, and he pulls you up from the sofa. His expression is sad, and you don’t want to leave like this, but you don’t want to stay here any longer. Yuta dries your tears with the edges of his shirt sleeve, and then he pulls you in against his chest.

The world does the now familiar trick of flashing and flickering, falling into place again. 

Yuta’s still standing there, holding you close, though now you’re back in the cemetery right in front of your parents’ graves. The night is deep around you. The air is fresh and clear in a way that you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. A cool mist falls over the headstones. Everything is quiet, muffled and chilly. 

Even after Yuta pulls his arms back from around you, he clutches to your hand. Even as you look around at your surroundings, he holds on.

You’re somewhat surprised when you recognize your umbrella, resting against the headstone. It’s such a small thing, but you can’t believe you left it behind. 

“I promised I’d bring you back,” Yuta says, “like nothing ever changed. Can I just ask, is this my fault, you changing your mind? Was it because of what I said in Frozen Hell?” 

“No, Yuta.” You shake your head. “It was my decision. Though, I did run into WinWin, the werewolf again. He helped me make the decision.”

Yuta’s lips pull back from his teeth, a low hiss emanating from his throat. “Bastard.”

“Don’t.” The cool air prickles against your skin. “This was still my decision, he just listened and gave me the answer I already knew, the one that I just needed someone else to reinforce. Also, he told me that he knows you and Ten.”

 Yuta frowns. “Yeah. Kinda. He’s rather good friends with one of Mark’s close friends. We just don’t like him, but, honestly,” Yuta sighs, “He’s one of the better werewolves I’ve met. Though now, I’m second-guessing that if he’s an influence on your decision to come back here. But a promise is a promise.”

You step away from him, feeling like you’re moving through water, slow-motion, reluctant. 

Yuta lets your hand slip from his, his fingers drag against yours, holding on as long as he can, and you pick up your umbrella with the same hand that still holds the lingering heat of his.

You look back at him. “Thank you, Yuta.”

He dips his head in acknowledgement. “I don’t take lightly the promises I make. So I’ll make you another promise.”

You twist the umbrella in your hand, avoiding eye contact with him because if you look a little too close you might find a reason to head back to Hell City with him. You stare at the mud between your feet until Yuta steps closer, his clean shoes entering your line of sight. His hand covers yours on the handle of the umbrella, and you can’t push down the impulse to look up into his eyes. 

They’re the warm brown that he first showed you right here in this spot. But there’s a new depth to them that wasn’t there at that time. Emotion flickers within them, unreadable—or perhaps you just refuse to read it. You don’t want to dive into his gaze and read the hurt, the longing, the disappointment that resides right there beneath the surface. You don’t want to see your own emotions buried in there, that strange want and sense of familiarity that you’d found in the company of demons and in Hell City. 

“I promise you,” Yuta vows, holding your hand in his, “That if you change your mind, if you need help, if you miss me, if you call my name, I’ll be there.”

You shutter your heart as it reacts to his honest words. This is what you want. To be here. In the real world surrounded by humans. “That’s not going to happen.” You pull your hand away from his comforting touch. “I’m fucking done with demons and vampires and all of that. I don’t want any more to do with monsters.”

Yuta watches you, never breaking eye contact. “As if there aren’t plenty of monsters here in your world, sweet girl. Ten and I weren’t the first demons you met, and I assure you, we won’t be the last. Monsters are everywhere, in everything. We wanted to protect you.”

“I don’t need your protection.” You fold your arms over your chest. You’re lying to him straight through your teeth. You like the idea of feeling protected by them, but the morals and values you were raised to believe in are constantly at war with everything happening now. “I just want you to leave me alone so I can forget that you, Ten, and all of Hell City even exist.”

“Regardless, I’ll never let anything happen to you.” Yuta lifts his hand, quickly cupping the back of your head and drawing you in so he can plant a kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight, my love.” 

You open your mouth to say something in response, but whatever words were going to come out are lost to the wind and the empty night. You stand facing the empty darkness of the back of the cemetery. 

He’s gone. You’re back home, all the demons and monsters left behind in a far away place. But then why do you feel so unhappy?

You trudge home from the cemetery, opening the umbrella as the mist becomes a drizzle, which soon picks up into a proper rainfall. 

It must be very late. The streets are empty, though there are a few houses who’ve left their porch lights on. But despite the late hour, you wander the long way home, enjoying the simplicity and familiarity of these streets you’ve known since childhood. You’ve been away for so long, you wonder if these streets have missed you as you’ve missed them. As you pass the dark, empty windows of the coffee shop you wonder if the usual barista has been curious about where you went. You wonder if the pastor has missed you on Sundays, or if the stray cat that camped out by the dumpster outside your apartment building had gone in search of a new friend. 

There are all of these little things and places you’re excited to get back to. No place more so than your bed. 

When you get home, you leave your umbrella to dry at the door, kick your shoes off, and sink into the familiar smell of home. You’ve missed this. Your bed. Your air freshener. Your phone. 

You’d left your cellphone at home that night when you went to the cemetery. It was probably not the smartest choice, but you didn’t like to be interrupted when you went to see your parents. You wonder how many missed phone calls and texts you’re going to have once you charge your phone up and power it on. Friends and co-workers and people wondering where you are. Judging by the lack of crime scene tape or anything, you’re assuming no one reported you missing, which is both a depressing and also curious thought. Did Yuta and Ten, through their demon powers, leave behind an excuse as to where you went? Or, for the upsetting thought, had maybe no one cared that you disappeared at all?

But when you reach your bedroom, lifting your phone from the bedside table to plug it in, the screen lights up immediately. 

No missed calls. Just a few texts from a couple of your friends who’d gone out to the bars on Halloween. And then you look at the time. 

11:59pm. 

The date: Halloween. All Hallow’s Eve. 

Like nothing ever changed. Yuta’s words echo in your mind. 

He brought you back. Right back to the moment when he and Ten took you away. 

It’s still Halloween. 

The clock ticks forward, the time changing to midnight, the date switching to the first of November. 

Maybe tomorrow you’ll wake up and you can pretend that it was all just a weird dream. 

It was anything but a dream. That, you slowly start to realize as the days pass you by. 

As much as you try to convince yourself that the time you spent in Hell City with two demons, and the nights you’d spent there in the company of your demons and a vampire and a werewolf and a whole horde of other monstrous creatures, you can’t convince yourself that it wasn’t real. 

You can’t pinpoint it, but something has changed. 

Though no time passed here, no one even knew that you were gone for weeks, there’s a distance now that wasn’t there before. 

You feel different. 

People look at you differently. 

“Are you alright?” Your best friend had asked the first time you saw her in person after Halloween. “You just look a little…. off.”

“Oh, thanks.” You’d laughed in the moment, playing it off. “I guess I just look ugly today, but I didn’t sleep well last night.”

That is a partial truth. You hadn’t slept well the night before. You’d been plagued with horrifically wonderful dreams that had deep-dived into your subconscious for material. Horny dreams of Ten and Yuta, of the werewolf WinWin, of Mark even. 

The dreams featuring the demons, those were somewhat normal. Ten waking you up in bed with fingers busy already between your legs. Yuta’s patient, teasing voice in your ear as he fills you with his cock from behind. 

But the vampire? It was unexpected for your dreams to bring Mark into the fantasies. The first was set where you’d first met him, Mark was upon his throne above the bloody orgy. He’d looked kingly, and he’d held you in his lap, down on his cock right there on the throne. Another took place in the club where you’d last seen him, in a comfy booth bathed in the eerie blue lights, his mouth stained with blood as he drinks from your throat while spreading you out on the table. 

And the werewolf WinWin you had barely known while in Hell City, but he obviously made an impact. In these dreams he’s just human, as you’d imagined him until truth reared its ugly head. In the dreams, he’s just an attractive guy at a club, choking you on his cock in some back darkened hallway, then fucking you doggy style with his hand wrapped around your throat. 

Each night you had these dreams. Each night you woke in a cold sweat at half past three in the morning, desperate to get yourself off after the action in your dreams. 

That desperation leads to going out, roping a few friends into going to a bar. You mingle, you drink, you choose a guy who kinda reminds you of Yuta when you look at him through the haze of the drink muddying your veins. You just need to take the edge off, to release some of your horniness, which is nothing different than you’d done before your adventure to Hell City. Sure, before that, you hadn’t seen action in quite a while, but now the heat in your belly refuses to be neglected. 

The guy, if he even gives you his name, comes home with you. You twist around him in the backseat of an Uber, his tongue down your throat and his hands clumsily wandering. But his touch doesn’t fill you with the same heat as Yuta’s touch, his eyes aren’t quite the same shape as Yuta’s or the same color. 

But he fucks you well enough, his hand on your throat while he tells you to call him Daddy, his cock pounding into you in uncoordinated thrusts that get you to orgasm just purely because you’re so wound up. 

He sleeps over, and in the morning you squeeze in another round with him in the shower. You have to go to work, so you can’t spend too long together, though he does offer to buy you coffee. 

You have no intention of seeing him again. In the stark light of morning, he looks nothing like Yuta while simultaneously still looking too much like the demon you’re trying to pretend doesn’t exist. He walks alongside you to your favorite coffee shop, he orders his drink and pays for yours, and you forget that you’ve silently in your mind been referring to him as Not-Yuta until the barista calls out “Ji Hansol” for him to fetch your drinks. 

You can tell by the way Hansol smiles at you, by the way that his touch lingers as he hands over your drink, that he likes you. He probably would like to make this a regular thing between you. But you have no intention of that. You wave goodbye and head off to work, struggling to reconcile Hansol’s semi-familiar features with your absolute denial in Yuta’s existence. Yuta was just a dream, a pure figment of your imagination, right? Because demons and Hell City and the truth Ten and Yuta had told you about yourself had all just been some really bizarre nightmare. 

Right?

But there’s no denying that something is different the first Sunday after your return. You head to Church as always. You walk the path by the ancient willow, heading straight on to the heavy wooden doors of the Church. 

Your hands tingle as you touch the wood. You feel your breath catch in your throat as you push the door open. But you take it as excitement to finally be back here on holy ground after the unholiness you’ve lived through. 

You continue to tell yourself that even as an odd weight sinks lower in your belly with each step deeper into space. It’s what you tell yourself as you dip your fingertips in holy water, performing the sign of the cross. Your arm aches, fingertips tingling, the weight in your belly feeling hot. 

You plop down into a pew as quickly as you can, surreptitiously wiping your hands dry on your jacket, dabbing at your forehead with your sleeve. 

Weird. But you’ve been feeling a little weird. 

You disregard it until the time comes for communion. The time to receive the Eucharist, the blessed bread and wine, the body and blood of Christ. 

You curse yourself quietly in your mind as you near the head of the processing line, almost to the pastor who hands out the Eucharist with a blessing. As you watch another parishioner drink from the goblet of wine, all you can think of is Mark in that underground Hell club, his martini glass of what was almost certainly blood. Actual blood. 

The pastor places the Eucharist into your cupped palms, says the words, nodding as he looks you in the eye. His gaze slips beyond you, moving onto the next person, and you step to the side, following the same movements that you’ve been familiar with for so many  years of your life. You slip the Eucharist onto your tongue, dip your head, do the sign of the cross while facing the crucifix behind the altar, and as you turn to head back to your seat is when you feel it. 

A tightening in your throat. A burn. You feel like the small Eucharist is expanding and rough, scratching and scraping as you swallow it down. 

You’re choking on it, but you do your best to not show panic. You head straight down the aisle, and instead of turning into the pew where you’d sat before, you head straight out the doors of the nave, the main body of the Church, turning sideways into the women’s restroom. 

The small tiled room is empty and cold. The air feels still and stale, smelling of sanitizer and a dying air freshener of the floral variety. 

You make it over to the sink just in time to cough, gagging as the Eucharist dislodges from your throat. You turn the sink on, rinsing it down the drain, still coughing and spitting. You look up at your reflection, holding your mouth open to see if your throat is red and raw as it feels. 

It’s too dim in the bathroom to see anything, but the burning subsides as you cough again, spitting out the last little piece of the bread-turned-body of Christ. 

This might be a problem. 

You ignore it for the next week. Pretending everything is fine. Pretending that you didn’t have something akin to an allergic reaction to the Eucharist. Pretending that the holy water didn’t make your skin tingle, and that stepping foot on holy ground didn’t make you feel deeply uncomfortable in a physical way. 

And also you pretend that your friends aren’t avoiding you. You can’t tell if they’ve just somehow forgotten you or if they’re genuinely avoiding you. Ghosting you on plans that had been made, leaving your phone calls and messages unanswered. Then there are the strangers too. People you pass on the street that let their gaze slide away uncomfortably or the ones who stare a little too closely, like there’s something about you they don’t like. 

The only one who doesn’t treat you that way is Hansol. You bump into your one-night stand on Monday morning, and he seems excited, like at even the slightest opportunity he would love to get you back in bed. Following the oddness of Sunday at Church, you slip up and meet him over lunch that day for a quick romp in your car. There are so many pent up sexual needs that you’ve been suppressing, and you let them all out with him. You throw yourself into his eager attentions in an effort to forget the odd reactions of everyone else. 

It’s like they all view you as something strange and different. Something emanating Otherness. 

There are just odd things. 

You can’t even pretend anymore that your time in Hell City was just an elaborate dream. The world feels different around you. 

You ignore it all until the second Sunday following your return from Hell City. 

Maybe everything, last Sunday included, was just a freak occurrence. Maybe it was just because you still had the feel of Hell City inside you, that’s why your friends have been avoiding you. Maybe it’s the holidays coming up quickly that has everyone distracted, that’s why they’ve forgotten you this week. Or it could be the strange drifters, truckers, lone strangers that you’ve noticed wandering through town, that is why you’ve received odd looks from familiar and foreign faces alike. 

Maybe this week will be different. Maybe the Eucharist and holy water and the air of the Church had cured you last week, this week will be fine and you’ll pray and you’ll go out to dinner with your best friend tonight like you used to do every Sunday night. 

But the holy water tingles on your skin, a heavy weight drags in your belly. You hold the Eucharist under your tongue, suffering through the burning sensation until you return to your seat and fish a tissue out of your purse to pretend to blow your nose into as you instead pass the Eucharist into the tissue, leaving your tongue and lips burning, and you swear you taste blood. 

You linger in your pew as the Church clears out. You bow your head, squeezing your eyes shut in prayer, desperate prayers to Jesus Christ on the cross, to the Father, to the Holy Spirit. 

The parishioners pay you no mind. They pass out of the Church and mingle with the pastor and among themselves outside in the lovely November sunlight. 

You’re still there when the pastor returns, waiting for him. 

“Can I speak with you?” You ask. 

He agrees. For one thing, as a pastor, it’s part of his job to listen to people who come seeking his ear. For another, this pastor is familiar with long talks with you. After your parents passed, he was a great help in getting you through the worst of your grief, helping you find faith again. 

Maybe that’s all you need again. His helping hand in returning you to the faith. 

You follow him to his office in the back of the Church, tucked in a room behind the altar. 

You sit across from him at his desk, unsure exactly where to begin, but you start out talking about your parents. How you’d learned of their struggle to conceive when they were newly married and trying to grow a family, and from there you just drift around on the subject of your parents, diving into the topic of their strange deaths, the demonic symbols the police had found carved in their bedroom. 

The talk ends early due to him having another appointment he has to get to, but you schedule another visit with him for the following day. 

That talk goes pretty much the same. You dance around the topic you really want to talk about, slowly easing into it. You meet with the pastor frequently over the following days. He and Hansol are the only people who make you feel alive and real and acknowledged. They’re the only ones to see you. And slowly you begin to voice your concerns to the pastor about the way you feel when you enter the Church.

You’re nearly in tears when you admit to the pastor that uncomfortable feeling because truly it terrifies you. You’re constantly wondering in the back of your mind what happened to you while you were away. You didn’t do anything wrong! You avoided the lusty temptation of the demons and the monsters; you can’t help it that your imagination provides plenty. Even now, even when you are working out your sexual frustrations with Hansol, which you also confess to the pastor, your nights are still plagued with dreams of the demons, the vampire, and the werewolf too. They’re not always sexual, but they contain romantic moments and moments of general companionship that make you long for and miss the city of sin.

When you bring up your companionship with the demons to the pastor, you frame it in a way that makes it seem like it was just a dream. Just as you’ve been trying to pretend to yourself. As if you were just dreaming of demons and monsters, of their attempts to seduce you. You whisper in the quietest voice about the more intense dreams you have, and you try to ignore the utter look of disapproval that furrows his brow deeper than it had when you’d confessed to him your loose relationship with Hansol. 

The pastor listens mostly in quiet consideration of everything you say, interjecting occasionally to offer you advice, to ask questions or to offer answers when you pose a question of your own. 

But three weeks after your return to this little life of yours is when you finally feel vulnerable enough with the pastor to say, “Every time I enter the Church, it feels like I don’t belong. When I—When my skin touches the holy water it burns. I can hardly take Communion any more. It burns my tongue and lips, and if I try to swallow, I choke on it.”

Tears drip down your cheeks, your hands wringing in your lap. You’ve devolved into a nervous wreck as the weeks have gone by.

You’re questioning your sanity, if you’re being honest. 

You’re lonely, too. 

Your friends have nothing to do with you anymore. Strangers look at you like you’re vermin. You’ve quit your job. You rarely leave your apartment except to grab groceries or pick up dinner from somewhere. Hansol and the pastor are all you have. And trying to trick yourself into believing that your own memories are false is making you feel insane. It’s taking a toll on you. 

“I need help,” you beg. 

The pastor sits behind his desk, hands folded on top of it as he looks at you silently. “Yes, dear, I would say that you do need help. This all sounds very, um, concerning, to say the least. I don’t mean to frighten you when I tell you this,” he says as he rises to his feet. “But it sounds to me like a demonic possession of some sort.”

Your words catch in your throat, fingers wrinkling against the hem of your sweater. 

The pastor comes around the desk. “I have a little experience with this type of thing,” he admits. “I studied demonology during a time at the monastery. A friend of mine, he’s in town actually, visiting the diocesan bishop, he’s a certified exorcist.” 

That word sends a jolt down your spine and you sit up straight. “An exorcist?”

He nods solemnly. “Yes, dear. I—I fear that you may meet certain requirements, but I’ll go fetch him, bring him here to see you. He’s more experienced with demonic possession than I am. And if he deems you—“

“No!” You stand up, and you feel wild in that moment, but if what Ten and Yuta told you holds any truth, if you are indeed part demon, what would an exorcism do to you? Rip you in half, leaving you for dead? Would it tear that demonic part out of you, leaving you feeling  half empty for the rest of your life?

“Now, settle down.” The pastor holds his hands up placatingly, but you won’t settle down. You won’t just sit here and wait for him to bring back a man who may sentence you to a life not worth living or even death. 

“No, please! I—I’m not possessed. That’s ridiculous! Maybe I’m just manifesting physical symptoms based on psychosis or something.” You say, saying anything you can to convince him not to go searching for his exorcist friend. 

“Those symptoms you’re speaking about are very concerning. And the change in your character from how you behaved several weeks ago until now? The loosening of your morals by engaging in random sexual relations with a stranger? The dreams you’ve been experiencing as well. Even if you’re not possessed, dear, I fear that there is an attempt being made via these dreams of seduction.” The pastor backs away from you. “He’s just going to talk with you for a bit, dear. It will be alright.” His voice is level, calm, though he’s failing to calm you as he draws backwards toward the door. 

“You can’t go!” You shout, and you fling yourself at him, not quite sure what you hope to accomplish. Not that it matters because you utterly fail. 

The pastor is quicker than you gave him credit for. He reaches for the coat hooks beside the door, grabbing his stole—the long colored sash that he wears draped over his shoulders during the service. 

He moves quickly, wrapping his arms around you, pinning your arms to your sides as you squirm and cry, shouting for him to let you go, trying to convince him that you’re not possessed, but apparently your actions only serve to further convince him. 

“I’m sorry, dear,” he apologies as you feel him wrap the stole tightly around your wrists, binding them behind your back. “But it’s really becoming clear that you need help.”

You cry out, squirming. “Please! It hurts! You’ve tied it too tightly!” But in truth it’s burning against your wrists, settling an unitchable itch beneath your skin. 

You twist out of his hold, trying to make for the door just behind him, but he catches your arm, and throws you to the ground. 

The air is forced out of your lungs as you hit the ground. Your chin slams against the floor, jarring your teeth together. 

You’re still gasping for breath as he drags you up from the floor, tightening the stole on your wrists before he forces you back down into the chair. The pastor walks quickly to the wardrobe in the corner of the room. You can’t see inside when he opens the doors, but you can see the fine silver chain that he draws out. You can smell the odor of incense clinging to it as he approaches you again. 

“This is for your own good, I’m afraid.” He says as he grabs your arm and lifts you from the chair, moving you over toward the wall, over to the old radiator beneath the window. “I can’t have you breaking lose, hurting yourself or hurting anyone else.”

You’re forced down to sit on the ground. He reaches around behind you, winding that fine silver chain tightly around your wrists, loosening the stole as he replaces it with these chains instead. 

And they burn even worse. Tears sting your eyes and cheeks. 

He gasps audibly as you cry out, kicking your feet on the floor frantically when you feel the chain biting into your wrists. 

“This is very serious. I hunted demons to no success in my youth,” he says, stumbling away from you once the chain is secured around your wrists, binding you to a pipe of the radiator. “I never imagined….. Whether a demon is inside you or it’s something else deeply unholy tainting you, dear, I—I’ll be back! Everything will be alright.”

“You’re going to kill me!” You cry, using the last option you have. “Please, don’t. Please, it’ll kill me.”

He shakes his head. “It’ll be okay.”

And then he’s backing away, running from the room. 

You struggle against the chains, but each move you make causes them to dig in deeper, and it sears against your skin like an iron poker fresh from the fire. You struggle until you realize you can’t possibly break yourself free. You struggle until you’re sobbing in frustration, cursing aloud and in your mind. 

For the first time, you feel utterly powerless. You wish you had some understanding or control or ability to tap into the powers that must surely be hiding in your blood if there is any truth to your partial demon heritage. You wish there was something you could do to get yourself free, but the more you struggle the more the chain bites and burns into your skin. 

For the first time in the month you’ve been back, you finally do what you’d told yourself you never would. 

You say his name. 

“Yuta!” You cry out. “Ten!” 

You call their names, screaming and shouting until your voice feels raw, and still you’re alone in this office, dreading the return of the pastor. 

And then you feel it, smell it, hear it rather than seeing anything. A shift in the air, a creak of the floor, the horribly familiar smell of sulfur. 

“What the fuck?” Ten drops to his knees in front of you. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

His hands flutter over you, checking you over for injuries. 

Yuta sinks down beside you, and you see all at once that Hansol doesn’t even begin to measure up to Yuta. There’s no comparison between them. Yuta is beautiful and handsome and a sob breaks free of you as you take in the sight of him. 

Yuta spares your face a single glance. He tries to pull you away from the radiator before he realizes that you’re chained to it. 

“Who did this to you?” Yuta asks, his voice low and dangerous. “Why did they do this?”

“The pastor!” You hiss, “I came to him about my sins, about my inability to take Communion or touch holy water any more.”

You notice Ten exchange a look with Yuta over your shoulder. Rage flares up inside you. This is all their fault! If they’d never appeared in the cemetery, if they’d never taken you to Hell, this wouldn’t be happening to you. 

“You ruined me!” You yell, and tears are streaming down your cheeks. You jerk against the bonds, but they hold tight, burning against your wrists. “You fucking ruined me!”

“Shh!” Ten hushes you, crouching in front of you, brushing his fingers to your cheeks in an attempt to dry your tears, but more keep coming. “Hold still, darling.”

Yuta curses and hisses behind you. You feel his hands on your arms, fingers prodding around the chain that you strongly suspect has been anointed and blessed for some reason. 

“It hurts,” you whine. “Hurry up!”

Ten presses his hand to the back of your head, wrapping his arm around your upper back, holding your head to his shoulder. “We’ll get you out, don’t worry.”

Yuta backs away, hissing in pain. “What kind of pastor is this?”

You lift your head from Ten’s shoulder to see Yuta’s fingertips blackened and smoking, though they begin to heal right before your eyes. 

“Demon hunter,” you cry, “He said he was going to fetch an exorcist for me, believing that I’ve been tainted by something unholy.” You sniffle, feeling your rage at them drop back down to a simmer, your desire to live taking over. “What will happen to me if he brings an exorcist back?”

Ten’s fingers sharpen against the back of your head. “That’s not going to happen,” he growls, and his eyes flood with black. Turning to Yuta, he says, “Go back, get Mark or anyone that can break these bonds on her. Hurry.”

You can tell by the look on Yuta’s face he’s definitely not used to Ten telling him what to do. But he does it. There one instant and gone the next. 

“I’m sorry,” Ten apologizes. “We should have never let you come back. What happened?”

So you explain it to him. The way you’d felt ostracized and different, even around the people you’d known all your life, doing things you had once done all the time. You don’t skirt away from mentioning Hansol, at which point a muscle in Ten’s jaw twitches and his eyes flash their demonic yellow. You tell him about approaching the pastor for the first time, about the multiple talks, and finally the last talk this morning that led to this.

“You guys ruined me.” You tell him again. “I was fine before you took me there.”

“We just enhanced who you naturally are. That Otherness, the unholiness inside you.” Ten takes your cheeks in his hands. “Can’t you feel it now?”

Of course you can. It’s like a black pit in your belly, a heavy weight that settles in your gut any time you see the pastor or step foot on holy ground. If you think back really hard, you remember always having a faint feeling like that when you were growing up, but it hadn’t felt anything like this. Like a power simmering beneath your skin, waiting for a spark to light you up. 

But it’s there now, ever-present. 

“What do I do?” You ask, pulling against the burning bonds at your wrists again. “I can’t live here anymore, can I?”

Ten looks into your eyes for a long moment. “Come back with us. It’s the only place you’ll be safe. This is what we were avoiding in the first place. You’re defenseless, unaware of how to protect yourself against the powers that would come after you at the first chance. Like this pastor,” he spits the word, “and his exorcist.” Another flicker of rage across his face, quickly tamped down. 

You briefly think of Hansol. How just leaving might leave this guy you’ve developed something of a relationship with, however singularly based in sex it may be, might be alarming to him. He’s been so eagerly pursuing your affections, and in the brief moments of closeness you’ve spent after sex, he’s talked to you of going away, moving somewhere else and how he thinks you would like going away too. 

“I could just leave,” you tell Ten with a sniffle. “Not to Hell City. Somewhere else. Hansol wants to take me away.”

Again, Ten’s eyes flare yellow with emotion. “I’m sure he does. Don’t go with him. Come with us, please.”

“I miss you,” you admit, the words flying from your lips almost without thought, and you’re startled to find they are nothing but truth. “And I miss Yuta.”

Ten looks surprised but grateful. Hopeful, which isn’t an expression that you ever imagined to see on a demon’s face. “I miss you, too.”

He tips his forehead against yours. And you press yours forward. 

You sigh. “If I come back, if you and Yuta get me out of here, I don’t want to be alone.” That was all you’d asked when Yuta brought you back from Hell City. You just wanted to be alone to forget them, but not anymore. You know that now, sitting here in front of Ten. You don’t want to be alone and you don’t want to feel powerless any longer. You don’t want to deny yourself what you’ve wanted all along. 

“You won’t be alone,” Ten vows. His eyes close, his nose touches yours. “We are getting you out of here, darling, I swear that to you on my black soul.”

You tilt your head, allowing yourself just the briefest kiss, a ghost’s touch of your lips against Ten’s. A seal on his promise. 

This time, when they get you out of here and take you back to that ragged city of Hell, you won’t hold back. You won’t force down your hungers and wants; you’ll let your desires run rampant. You’ll embrace the demon side of you, learn everything they have to teach you. 

“Here, hurry!” 

Yuta bursts back into existence, his voice preceding him by a millisecond, and then he’s right there, crouching down in front of you beside Ten, shoving a figure at you. 

The other man slams into your side by accident, knocking you off balance, but reaching out to steady you. You can’t see his face as he twists around behind you. His fingers are hot against your wrists, twisting at the bonds. 

“Him?” Ten hisses. “You brought him?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Ten,” Yuta says, “And he was the first person I saw.”

Ten stands up, rocking onto his feet, a growling hiss rolling from behind his teeth. 

“He owes her to get her out of this mess!” Yuta shoots upright as well, staring down Ten as Ten glares at the man who is behind you, slowly but surely loosening the bonds around your wrists. “Are you really going to complain about who I found to save her?”

You feel a snap, and you cry out in pain as the bones in your left hand and wrist break. 

“Sorry!” The man behind you grunts under his breath, groaning as he twists at the bonds. “Almost there!”

Pain radiates through your wrist and hand, lancing through your head as your liberator maneuvers your broken hand through the chains. 

Yuta is the one that scoops your head against his chest, lowering his lips to your ear, trying his best to comfort you. 

Distantly, you hear the sound of the Church’s heavy double doors opening. 

“He’s back!” Your voice is tight with pain and fear, and Yuta holds you tighter. The man behind you moves faster to free your second hand, and you pray he doesn’t break this one too, but your prayers no longer hold any meaning to the God you once prayed to. 

Your other wrist snaps as easily as the first. 

You bite down on Yuta’s shoulder to muffle the pain, and he hisses as your teeth break skin. But it helps you to some degree. 

The last bit of your damned bondage slips away. You fall fully against Yuta’s chest. 

Voices are approaching the office door, and you can feel the righteous anger emanating from both of your demon protectors, but you lift your head from Yuta’s shoulder, and through blurry tears and with a pain-drunk voice, you look up at Ten and Yuta and beg, “Just get me out of here.”

Yuta’s arm goes tight around your waist as he hauls you to your feet right as the door to the office slams open. 

For a moment everyone stands frozen staring at each other. The pastor stares at the two demons with their arms around you and their eyes like the blackest night. They stare right back at him. But your eyes are on the exorcist that stands just behind the pastor with the all too familiar face of Hansol. 

The world squeezes tight around you, flickering in and out of existence before fading entirely to black.

<-previous || next–>

a/n: thank you so much for reading! Chapter five will be posted next Sunday, as usual, but in the mean time I really want to hear what you all think so far! I know not a whole lot has really happened, but any thoughts, questions, theories, or things you hope will happen please let me know! thank you 💗

#nct smut #nct fic #nct 127 smut #wayv smut #nct au #unholy #yuta smut #ten smut #mark smut #winwin smut

[2jaeh]

summer rain | winwin

it's a hot summer's day and you and your boyfriend need to cool off

genre: smut, fluff

content: gender neutral!reader, boyfriend!winwin, established relationship, sexual themes for like 5 seconds

word count: 526

- lin

i didn't want every fic to be winter themed bc i literally have summer in december lol

christmas fic masterlist (2022)

You gasped for air, your fingers gripping the silky sheets beneath you as Winwin rocked his hips against you, letting his length fill you up and repeatedly hitting that spot that made your head spin. Next to the sounds of skin slapping against skin and desperate, breathy moans, the rain poured down outside. The air was hot and sticky. Winwin wasn't used to Summer in December, so you took the opportunity to take him on a little vacation. But maybe fucking in 40 degree weather was the best and worst idea you two had.

He continued to ram himself into you, his hands rested on either side of your head as he leaned over to pepper your neck with weak kisses. You gripped onto your arms, your eyes fluttering open as you looked towards the glass sliding doors next to the bed. The rain pelted down from the bright, orange tinted sky, drenching the porch. 

"Faster, I'm so close." You murmured to him, squeezing your eyes closed as your body became restless.

Winwin, as silent as he was, always obliged with no complaints. He rode out both of your climaxes, letting his body go limp on top of you once he pulled out.

"Babe, its too hot." You complained, trying to get him roll over as the feeling of your hot, sticky bodies was becoming too much.

"Let's go cool off then." He muttered lazily, rolling off you to lay on his stomach, his face buried in the pillow.

"And if you try for round 2 in the shower I'll kick you out." You joked, sitting up to pull your underwear back on and throwing on an oversized shirt.

"I have a better idea." Winwin hummed as he also tiredly pulled on some clothes, still lying flat on his back on the bed.

"Hmm? I'm listening." You nodded, taking a swig of the water on your bedside table.

"Let's go play in the rain." Winwin suggested as if it were the most normal request he'd ever made. You'd never call your boyfriend boring, but he wasn't the most spontaneous person on the planet so that definitely came out of nowhere.

"Are you serious?" Your eyes moving between him and the rain pouring down outside.

"I saw it in a movie and it was cute." He explained himself nonchalantly, already making his way to the sliding door and cracking it open.

The cool air immediately engulfed the entire room and the feeling was heavenly. Winwin stepped out onto the porch and you followed him. You took in a breath of fresh air, sprinkles of rainwater bouncing onto your skin as you both were still protected by the patio cover. Before Winwin could react, you grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him towards the grass. You both were immediately drenched in rain, laughing and trying to rub the water out of your eyes. Winwin pulled you into an embrace and you had no reason to push away. He pressed a kiss to your lips, both of you smiling into it.

"Feeling better?" He hummed, his face still just a finger space away from yours.

"Much, much better."

#winwin #dong sicheng #winwin fluff #winwin smut #winwin scenarios #winwin imagines #nct #nct smut #nct imagines #nct fluff #wayv #nct 127 #wayv imagines #wayv smut #wayv scenarios #wayv fluff #wayv fic #wayv au

[soupydumplingss]

Sweet Venom.

Warnings: Female!Reader x Any NCT member (according to your imagination), angst!au, non-idol!au, reader is an alcoholic, unhealthy marriage, the male is cheating on her, the member is mentally unstable asf, reader is mentally unstable af in a way too, profanities (not much tho ig?...), reader cries in the end.

Note: Italics in "double inverted commas": ongoing conversation

Italics: reader is thinking

Normal letters: narration

The reader first starts the conversation and the member and reader speak simultaneously.

Prompt: "I can finally be me now. There's no serpent wrapped around my neck choking me. I'm free then."

Walking down the streets of Berlin, it's approximately 8:30 p.m. The bustling streets of the city are still full of life. A heavy backpack slung on one side of your shoulder, the first two buttons of your shirt unbuttoned with your tie hanging loose. Stumbling in your path, drunk, you just want to go home. As you fumble for the keys to your door, you suddenly drop something from your bag. A keychain. Specifically a keychain with initials on it. You kick it away somewhere.

After unlocking the door, you enter your house and lock the door. You kick your shoes somewhere and head to your room. Upon entering your room, a strange hit of nostalgia hits. A cabinet full of trophies, a heavy bunch of medals and certificates adorning the wall. Oh, what a kid I was, you thought. Now look at you, a working machine that runs 24/7 with little to no rest. You look at old pictures of yourself on the cabinet, smiling with your teeth on display. At least it's not fake.

Your younger self would've been proudly looking at you as the rich and successful woman she envisioned you as. But the current you isn't proud at all. Sitting in front of your computer on the topmost floor of your company, always working with a bunch of papers blocking your face, a failed marriage, all the youth evaporated from your face. You've forgotten about yourself, forgotten what happiness is, forgotten priorities. Did you forget your dear husband can still come into the house and see you in your heavily drunken state? Aren't you ashamed of picking another bottle of Hennessy from the cupboard in your kitchen and drinking straight from it?

"Why are you in my house again? To take the remaining of your stuff? If yes, then please be fast and get out."

"Just sign the papers and be out of my sight."

"So much for the man who himself was sleeping with another woman. And for the record, this is my house."

"You never gave time to us. She was there when I needed someone to stay by me, not you."

"So that's a good reason to break the vows you made in church? Remember who works harder."

"And that "who" forgets us. You've changed a lot. I love you very much, but she was just there."

"I think this proves that you were always unfaithful and ungrateful."

"You're moving from the fucking point."

"People who cannot express themselves properly stick to the usage of such crude words." You gulp the alcohol from the bottle.

"Still the woman who spits sweet venom even after being drunk. When will you stop this habit of returning home drunk?"

"It's my money. I can spend it as I want to."

"Baby, I left her. I want us to work out as we used to. I'll move back my stuff in."

Lies. That little stain of lipstick on your collar, a few long strands of the brunette's hair, her favorite perfume lingering on you, your puffy lips with a hint of pink on them, your hair ruffled. How much more lies will you feed me? You reek the smell of sex.

I don't think this will work out. I don't think we will work out."

Tears drop from the eyes of the man in front of you. He falls to his knees and hugs your legs while sobbing hard. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I won't do it again. I love you very much, honey."

You feel disgusted. Same old empty words, all lies. What's the point of this man using his words when it's all fake? I can literally see her in your car outside.

"I'll sign the papers just as you said. Be out of my sight."

You pulled your legs from his grip. As you take the pen from your pocket, you sign the papers and throw them on his face.

"As I said, be out of my range of sight with the remaining of your stuff."

You took off the beautiful diamond ring adorning your hand and threw it on his face. Drinking does help with unsolicited feelings.

He picked up his stuff and the ring while exiting the house. Finally.

A feeling of odd peace hits you. You feel empty. Were we ever meant for each other? Was it worth it? At least we both spared each others' remaining happiness, you thought. You went inside your room. Opening the door of your large bathroom, you fill the bathtub and hop in with your clothes on and the bottle of alcohol in your hand. You let the tap run. You're wet head to toe now. You think about the fight earlier. ""Still the woman who spits sweet venom after being drunk?" You were my sweet venom, the one who seemed as sweet as sugar but turned out to be a serpent." A fresh stream of tears leave your eyes, dripping down your face as you keep chugging the alcohol down your throat.

"I can finally be me now. There's no serpent wrapped around my neck choking me. I'm free then."

Author: help pls im a new writer 😭 i literally wrote this in 2 hours. forgive me if there is any error in the spellings. this story does seem very unclear without any context but somehow, it feels so right like this. I appreciate any support.

The above gif doesn't belong to me. Only the story and writings belong to me. Please do not copy my writings.

Copyright ©️ soupydumplingss

#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct drabbles #nct angst #nct au #nct imagines #moon taeil #johnny suh #lee taeyong #yuta nakamoto #qian kun #kim doyoung #ten nct #jaehyun #winwin #jungwoo #mark lee #xiaojun #hendery #renjun #nct jeno #haechan #jaemin #yangyang #chenle #park jisung #nct x reader

[xomakara]

Another World (WIP)

Here's a snippet from the new story I'm working on. The isekai/transmigration one that Winwin is my main lead. Let me know if you'd like to tagged when it gets released in the next few days (maybe in a week more like it)

"Your Grace, My Lady, it's nearly time to go."

You let out a deep sigh and placed your hand in your brother’s hand as he helped you unto the carriage. Your beautiful dress and the jewels around your neck all seemed almost unbearable with how heavy they were. The one thing that was light in comparison was your brother, but even his strength couldn't make you feel any less nervous about this evening. His hand squeezed yours, reassuring you. He seemed very anxious for the night ahead as well.

"Everything will be okay." Your brother whispered to you as he sat across from you, the carriage door closing behind him.

"Are you sure?" You asked back. "This is the first time that we've gone out since we came to this world, Jaehyun-oppa."

"I'm positive." He reassured you with a soft smile. "I'll do my best to protect us even if I have to make up some stupid excuse. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you."

You buried your face in your hands, not caring if it would ruined your makeup. "It's been three months since we landed in this stupid web novel. I hate wearing these stupid dresses, hate having to behave myself in public, hate having to deal with all of this. I just want to go home. Back to the modern world where I can wear pants instead of skirts. I miss having to walk around the streets by myself, talking to people without having to worry about what they think of me or if I'm good enough for them."

Jaehyun sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Me too, Y/N. Me too."

"I miss kimchi, jajangmyeon, ddukbokki...I miss being able to eat my favorite dishes whenever I wanted to." You frowned at the memory of all the delicious food that you used to love so much. In the modern world, no matter where you went, there was always an abundance of street food. Food that you could eat until your stomach hurt and never get tired of. But here, you were eating a lot of western style foods that were made for the high nobility such as yourself. All of the sudden, you became incredibly homesick. "And I miss karaoke!"

Jaehyun chuckled, remembering how often you'd both go to the karaoke bars even after a full session of recording at the company studio or after an exhausting night in the practice room from dancing. Even when you had no audience and just sang along with the lyrics on screen, you loved it. It didn't seem like you would ever be able to enjoy singing again now that you were stuck in this fantasy world. But that wasn't what bothered you the most. That was all normal. What really upset you was that you would probably never get to see your friends and family again, though Jaehyun was the exception. After spending your whole life surrounded by everyone you cared about, seeing them one last time before everything changed would have been nice.

"If only we hadn't left the studio when it was storming," you muttered, frowning at your older brother. "We wouldn't have been struck to our death by lightning. If we had been inside, then none of this would have happened. I know we can't go back. None of this is fair."

Jaehyun moved to sit next to you and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly, running a hand over your hair. "The way I see it, things are pretty lucky that we ended up getting a second chance at life. All be it in a novel. And we still have each other, right? We should be thankful for that."

"Yeah." You nodded softly. "I guess so. Maybe I should be more open minded about this. Who knows, maybe one day I might even like the adventures that come along with living in this fantasy world. At least I don't need to worry about dealing with reporters or fans or being sued for slander anymore."

Jaehyun chuckled. "Now that's something I definitely don't miss."

You laughed along with him. "At least we aren't villains or the main leads in this novel. We can just live a life in luxury and peace. A life away from all the drama. Just as normal siblings."

Jaehyun nodded his head. "Sounds perfect to me."

"Although," You paused to look at your older brother. "With a face like that, all the ladies are gonna go to war to have you."

"You'll be a good little sister and fight them off, right?" Jaehyun asked teasingly.

"Of course! They'll have to go through me if they want a shot at my handsome brother!" You exclaimed, Jaehyun letting out a laugh.

"Your Grace, My Lady, we've arrived." Came the voice of the driver. You heaved a sigh, knowing that everyone was looking forward to see Grand Duke Jaehyun and his sister, Lady Y/N. Everyone was watching your every move, especially when you attended events with each other. This kind of stuff wasn't supposed to happen. You wanted to spend every moment alone, hiding away in the privacy of your bedroom, but alas, fate was cruel.

Especially to you.

Jaehyun gave you a sympathetic look before standing up and opening the carriage door for you. He offered his hand with a smile, stepping outside first. You reached out to take his hand, which he graciously accepted, and followed behind him. When you finally stepped foot onto the grounds of the ballroom, you gasped in surprise.

You knew it would be big, but seeing it firsthand was incredible. There were torches lit along the path that lead to the grand doors and lights hung everywhere, illuminating the beautiful scenery. Once you opened the doors and entered the hall, you stopped in your tracks. Standing there in front of you were dozens of girls dressed in exquisite dresses and suits. Each one a different color, cut differently, and draped elegantly upon her body.

Most stood quietly, whispering among themselves, eyes glued to you and your brother as you approached. However, some seemed to grow excited as you neared. Perhaps the anticipation of being able to meet high nobles like yourselves was enough to make their knees weak.

For minor characters in this novel, it looked like the Grand Duke of Ilichi and his sister were quite the attraction. You took a deep breath, ready for the influx of admiration and attention.

“I see that you have both left your residence tonight.”

You looked up to meet eyes with Crown Prince Qian Kun who was walking towards you. He smiled at you as you gave him a graceful curtsy. The first time you met the Crown Prince, he really resembled Kun, one of the NCT members back from your world. You felt like you were back home for a mere moment but remembered that you weren’t.

“You look like you’ve recovered, Lady Y/N.” The Crown Prince nodded his head slightly, seemingly impressed with you. “It has been many years since the palace has hosted such an event. Usually, the two of you remain at home.”

You bowed your head. “Yes. Although it’s difficult to be away from home sometimes, I do enjoy the privilege of attending parties and banquets with my brother.”

Qian Kun laughed heartily, raising a brow. “Well, I am glad that the both of you were able to attend. I’m glad you both recovered from your illness. After your accident, the kingdom was worried sick about you both.”

Your 'accident', as the Crown Prince called it, was being ambushed by bandits as you and Jaehyun were leaving the Grand Duchy to come to the capital city of Red City. Despite being skilled in the swordsmanship, that's another story for another day, it still didn't stop the blade that drove you to your death. The doctors' called it a miracle when you and Jaehyun both woke up the next day and didn't remember the ordeal at all.

After all, you and Jaehyun were inhabiting the bodies of minor characters in a fantasy novel. While they believed in miracles and godlike powers, you and your brother always had that modern world mentality that it was impossible.

But yet, here you were.

Still alive. Still breathing.

Qian Kun cleared his throat, seeming embarrassed for bringing up such painful memories. “Well, that aside, I hope the two of you enjoy yourselves.” He smiled and walked away, his admirers following behind him.

You took a deep breath, letting out a long sigh as you straightened your dress. As soon as the Crown Prince had left, swarms of women started approaching you, asking you questions about what you liked, what your favorite dish was, and if they could call upon you and Jaehyun. You answered politely, knowing that you had to put on a show, but secretly hating every minute of it. But you took a deep breath and channeled your inner idol, telling yourself that they were just like every idol fan.

You turned to look at Jaehyun but noticed that he was swept away by the other men of the royal court, each one looking like they were vying for his attention. A few patted his shoulder and joked with him while others simply stared with mouths agape, enamored by the handsome man that was your brother.

You wondered why everyone was paying attention to you and Jaehyun when you weren't even the main characters of this novel. You knew that once the female protagonist would make her appearance at the ball, everyone would clearly ignore you so you didn’t understand what the big fuss about meeting high nobility was about. Yet here you were, attracting stares like fireflies to a light bulb.

As soon as you were alone again, you groaned loudly and rubbed your temples. You couldn't wait to go home. To get into bed, get under the covers, and forget about everything else that had happened today. As you tried to find an empty corner to get away from everyone, you ran into a hard chest. You instantly looked up to see tall, lean, dark haired man with a dazzling smile on his face. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight, making your heart race. Was he the male protagonist of this novel?

He wore a suit and looked completely dashing. His body was tall and well built. But he also carried a softness to him that reminded you of someone.

Wait.

Sicheng?

You shook your head and snapped out of your thoughts. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” You hurriedly apologized, pulling away from him. “I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

“Don’t apologize. Accidents happen.” He smiled and took your hands in his, giving you a comforting squeeze before letting it go. he gave you a bow. "Greetings, Lady Y/N. I am Dong Sicheng, Marquis of Jilin."

You took a good look at the man in front of you. Lord, he really resembled Sicheng and had the same real name as him. But you knew this man wasn't the same Sicheng that you knew. You knew that this was a character from a novel, not real life. But somehow, it still made your heart ache because the thought of home hit you hard, reminding you that you really were somewhere completely different than where you were used to.

"Y/N," You turned to look at your older brother as he made his way to you. As Jaehyun reached your side, he took a few seconds too long to stare at the man named Sicheng. Jaehyun looked at you and then back at Sicheng, seeming confused.

You cleared your throat and spoke up, hoping to break the awkward silence. "Brother, meet Marquis Dong Sicheng of Jilin."

Sicheng bowed his head lightly and gave a small smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace."

Your brother raised a brow, before smiling awkwardly. "It's nice to meet you as well, Marquis. Please, forgive my manners. Forgive me for staring. It's just... You remind me of someone I know."

Sicheng tilted his head, a curious expression coming across his face. "Do I know you?"

Jaehyun shook his head. "No, no. No. You wouldn't know me. I'm merely talking to myself."

You sighed in relief and nodded your head. Now that the tension was broken, you looked over at your brother. "Jaehyun, I'm feeling tired. Would you mind if we went home? I think I'd like to lie down for awhile."

"You sure?" Jaehyun asked you worriedly.

You flashed him a reassuring smile. "I know it's been months since the accident but I'm still feeling tired from time to time. And, besides, it seems like everyone is getting along nicely without us."

"Okay," Jaehyun smiled softly, placing a kiss on your forehead. "I guess you're right. Let's go."

The three of you walked silently, lost in your own thoughts until you reached the carriages that would take you back to your estate. You stepped inside the carriage, taking your seat next to your older brother and laid your head against his shoulder. You locked eyes with Sicheng, a soft smile on his lips as he watched the carriage disappear into the night.

You closed your eyes, Jaehyun wrapping his arms around you.

"Oppa, I miss them." You whispered. "I miss all the guys so much. Today has made it clear to me that nothing will ever be the same again."

Jaehyun tightened his hold around you, squeezing you tight. "I know, Y/N. I miss them too."

#nct #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #wayv #nct dream #nct 127 #nct winwin #winwin isekai au concept

[phoxphenex]

thinking about wayv being the short kings unit... (winwin being the exception but hes so baby that u forget that sometimes 🤭) so i was thinking if i could request a scenarios/drabbles thing for wayv?? 👉👈 where the reader can't reach something so they get it for them!! ? thank you! 💕💗❤

𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗩 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗧

#scenarios #nct social media au #nct #nct texts #wayv scenarios #wayv #wayv texts #wayv xiaojun #wayv hendery #wayv yangyang #wayv kun #wayv winwin #wayv ten #nct wayv #wayv x reader #wayv kun texts #kun texts #wayv ten texts #ten texts #wayv winwin texts #winwin texts #wayv xiaojun texts #xiaojun texts #wayv hendery texts #hendery texts #wayv yangyang texts #yangyang texts

[yunho-1999]

Chapter thirty — You knew?!

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#female reader #social media au #johnny nct #kim jungwoo #kun nct #moon taeil #ten nct #yangyang #chenle #nct hendery #nct lee taeyong #yuta nakamoto #nct doyoung #nct jaehyun #winwin #lucas nct #mark nct #xiaojun #renjun #nct jeno #nct jaemin #nct haechan #shotaro #sungchan #jisung nct #nct scenarios #nct smau #nct

[noah-shin]

Nct layouts

Jaehyun + Winwin + Jungwoo

#nct jaehyun #nct winwin #nct 127 jungwoo #winwin layouts #jaehyun layouts #jaehyun icons #kpop #nct layouts #nct icons #soft aesthetic #purple aesthetic #white aesthetic #messycore #nct ot23 #random moodboard #messy layouts #nct fluff #nct angst #nct royal au #royal aesthetic #nct jungwoo #aestethic #forbidden love

[neonacity]

ARCANE | CH.11 | NCT DREAM X READER

Summary: When you decided to apply for a researcher post in an elusive institute, you already had the feeling that you’ll be getting yourself knee-deep into something out of the ordinary. But desperate needs require desperate measures, and so you embraced the invite, despite all the alarm signals urging you to run away. What you found out was nothing you’d ever expected.

Seven boys.

Seven human deviants granted with abilities tied to the legendary Arcana Cards.

Welcome to Project Dream.

Pairing: Various Dream Members x Reader

Trigger Warnings/Themes: violence, torture, trauma, very slight yandere themes, poly dynamics, suggestive themes, language, psychological, mystery, sci-fi. Romance will take a little bit of a backseat on this one since this is more of a suspense-driven plot, but it will still be threaded in the overall story. The concept of the tarot or Arcana cards will be loosely used throughout the series. Note that I am not a trained doctor so there may be some slips here and there about medical things. Again, this is a work of fiction and I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the boys to their real life counterparts. I also reserve the rights to all my work—I do not post anywhere else other than tumblr. Minors DNI.

> CH. 1 | CH. 2 | CH.3 | CH.4 | CH.5 | CH.6 | CH.7 | CH.8 | CH.9 | CH.10

Chapter Song:

Run Boy Run > Woodkid

"Here… Have some water."

You blindly reached out for the glass that Ten pushed towards you from across the table. Numbly, you watched as your pale fingers wrapped around it, the cold seeping into your skin like painful pinpricks. The hubbub of the coffee shop around you sounded like white noise to your ears, a complete contrast of the deafening silence from the two men sitting in front of you now. Hell, you didn't even realize that you called them during the mess of everything that has happened in the last two hours, but here you are, staring numbly at nothing in particular as both waited for you to speak. 

"Hey… are you okay? You're not hurt anywhere are you?" Kun asked carefully after a few more seconds of silence. You flinched despite the gentleness of his voice and raised your eyes to finally meet his.

"It's okay. You don't need to talk first, we just wanted to make sure you aren't in pain or—"

"I think Cypher has my father."

You cut Ten off, your voice sounding hollow in your ears. You saw the way their expressions changed from surprise to utter confusion. It's obvious that it was the last thing they were expecting to hear from you. 

"Your father? Why would Cypher have him?"

The knot in the middle of your breastbone throbbed again. Briefly, you ran over Winwin's voice mail in your head. Your eyes felt unnaturally dry, as if you hadn't blinked for a long time, but the sting behind them was the least of your concerns.

"Because he is an Arcana user. He's a deviant. Just like them."

If Kun and Ten looked confused earlier, they definitely are thunderstruck now. Ten's lips parted in shock while Kun stared at you, eyes rounded. You shifted your gaze away from theirs before continuing.

"I lied. When I went to Rosewood, I found out that my father used to work with the boys. It was the reason why I suddenly stopped contact with all of you for a while—because I couldn't process that his disappearance months ago was connected to this mess. When I went there though, I stole a framed photo from his office and found a hidden memory card inside of it today," you stopped briefly before shakily taking out your phone. You pushed it towards the pair and both frowned at the screenshot plastered on its screen.

"Holy shit…" Ten mumbled under his breath as his eyes scanned through it. Kun, on the other hand, picked it up so he could read the details there better.

"It's a document of Arcana holders," he whispered, eyes moving across the screen. "Your father is—"

"The Judgement, the 20th of the Major Arcana masters," you answered, your voice not even sounding like yours in your ears. Kun's gaze flickered towards you momentarily in concern before going back to what he was reading.

"Why do you think Cypher has him?"

"Winwin. He was able to hack some hidden files," you swallowed the painful blockage in your throat. "My father is  a patient of Project Irregular."

You didn't need to turn towards the two to know the look in their faces. Ten silently reached out for your hand across the table and gave it a squeeze.

"You didn't have any idea that he is… just like them?"

You shook your head numbly. He didn't push through with the question and decided to go a different path after exchanging a glance with Kun.

"Was there something else you found out? You don't have to answer yet if you don't want to. This must be too much for you."

You hesitated. To be honest, everything was still a mess in your head, but maybe sharing things with them can offload some of what you've been struggling to process.

"There was another patient. The World."

"The 21st and the last in the Major Arcana," Kun said slowly as his eyes landed on the page he was reading. "According to this document, it is one of the three Arcana holders who fall under the third classification of users."

At that, Ten turned to look at him with a slight frown. 

"A third what?"

"We were correct with our research. There are different kinds of Arcana users. The physical element manipulators like Mark, Chenle, and Jisung, and the psychic ones like Renjun, Haechan, and Jaemin," Kun explained, reading off the file in front of him. "But there is also a third classification. The users who can control Arcana wielders with their abilities."

"The document is incomplete, but there are three cards tagged there. They call them the Triad. My father, The Judgement or IL Giudizio, The World, IL Mondo, and another one… The Fool, IL Matto."

"Those are the last three cards of a tarot deck  right?" Ten asked, leaning over to squint at your phone. Kun nodded in answer.

"The tarot numbering is basically a story that details the journey of humankind, represented by The Fool, through the cycle of life. It starts from awakening, to discord, and finally growth. Those three cards make up the end and completion of the journey. The Judgement is card 20, The World is card 21, and The Fool can either be tagged as card 22 or card 0. It can be the beginning…or the end."  

"But the capabilities of those three are not listed in this file. And there are no names for The World and The Fool," Ten observed.

"They have been burned off," you said, finally taking the phone from them. You zoomed in on the photo to highlight the scorch marks before showing it to them again.

"See? Those are burns on the pages. When I went to my father's office in Rosewood, I saw signs of things put on fire there. Whoever left this clue wanted to leave a trail, while also protecting the identity of the last two cards."

"So there is a possibility that whichever book this page came from does not exist anymore?"

"Probably. Or it is still hidden somewhere in Rosewood. The list we have is not even complete in the first place. Jeno and the others' names are not there. Somebody left this as an intentional clue to lead down a path."

"You think that someone is also working against Cypher?"

Kun's question made you pause. You've shared with them briefly before about the possibility of the boys being sent as insiders to the Institute by a mastermind pulling the strings from the outside. Right now, there is no doubt that you were correct in your hunch all along.

"You remember what I told you about the boys willingly sacrificing themselves to Cypher because of someone? I think it's her. Renjun, he gave me this," you pulled the locket from your pocket and showed it to the two. "It's what led me to that file. He said she wanted me to take it. I have no idea who she is, but with the way the boys are willing to move worlds for her, I assume she is also part of their family…"

Both Kun and Ten were silent as they stared at the pendant. Ten was the one who broke the silence first.

"If that woman is the one behind it… Then why is she using you to move things around? Unless…" he trailed off before his eyes slowly widened at his slow realization. The look you gave him confirmed that you are thinking of the same thing.

"Maybe she can't… because Cypher must be after her too."

Kun leaned back against his seat in shock. "She must be one of the Triad users."

For a moment, none of you really spoke, both lost in your own theories and questions. Outside of the cafe, a crackling sound of thunder clapped angrily and sent shocks of light across the horizon. You stared off into the glass and watched as streaks of rain started falling from the skies, staining the pavement black.

"We still can't know for sure. Winwin told me that he is still going to try and crack some files because it is impossible for a project like this to not have a trail. Until then, we need to do something to find out, at least, what the Triad can do. I think that's when we can really find out what Cypher is cooking up."

The pair in front of you remained silent even though you saw them exchange a look in your peripheral vision. Their unspoken words hang heavy in the air, almost suffocating you, but you tried your best to avoid their gaze, your eyes set instead on the wet pavement darkened by the unforgiving rain.

"Is that what you want to do?" Kun finally asked quietly across from you. Your heart clenched in your chest again and you took a while to answer, but you finally turned to look at him.

"Yes. Mark, Jeno and the others might be doing this for someone, but I'll be doing this for my father. I have no idea if he's even still alive… but I have to try. He only has me."

Kun and Ten met the calmness of your voice with determined looks of their own. Another clap of thunder outside tore the skies, as if foreboding a future none of you want. Ten finally gave a nod before moving his gaze to Kun then back at you.

"If that's the case, then there is one thing we must never screw up..."

"We can't let Cypher know that we are going after its evil ass."

*******

You waited in silence in the bare-looking room without trying to shift uncomfortably in your seat. Just outside of the door, visible on the edge of the glass panel that separates your interview area from the hallway were a set of guards manning the entrance like sentinels. You took one quick glance at their backs before bringing your gaze down again in a fake show of calmness. Any other day and you would have fought for your privacy with your sessions, but you honestly don't think that is up for discussion right now.

The mechanical hissing of the door made you look up again after a few more beats of silence. Unconsciously, you picked yourself up from your seat as a different pair of guards marched from the entrance, flanking a platinum-haired boy in their middle. The moment your eyes met, the corners of his lips lifted into a knowing smile.

"You asked for this one?"

The gruff voice of one of the men broke your eye contact with the other. You gave a calm nod in answer and trained your eyes on him in practiced control. One look and a few words in and you can obviously see the change of dynamics in the way the boys are being treated now, but hell be damned will you be blatantly intimidated by these monsters.

"Yes. This is him."

"You have fifteen minutes to talk to him. I will be moderating the session in person."

"I don't think that is necessary, sir."

"Protocol's changed now, doctor. You talk, we listen. Take it or leave it. It's for your own safety."

You were about to open your mouth to argue again when the man forced the boy he was holding by the arm into his seat. Before you could even say anything, the guard had already turned and started walking towards the other side of the room where he leaned, arms crossed, against the wall. The other slipped outside and joined the ones already stationed there. You shot the man left inside a look of disbelief before finally unfreezing on your spot and lowering yourself again on your seat.

"Makes you feel like you are in a prison, doesn't it? They even gave us ugly jail wards," the boy finally broke the silence as he leaned back on his seat. You brought your eyes back to him and tried to relax your spine in an effort to bring yourself back to focus.

"How are you, Jaemin?"

His expression didn't change but you noticed the way his eyes moved over you with intent. The guard was far enough for the both of you to get away with softer voices, but the pair of you are aware of how careful you should be with your movements. You couldn't give much, but you also couldn't give away too little and raise suspicions.

"I think I should be the one asking you that. Tell me if there is a reason I shouldn't have stopped myself from cutting off one of Haechan's hands?"

You knew the question was coming. Despite the high tension in the room, you managed to offer him the smallest of smiles.

"I'm doing so much better. Don't be too hard on him. I was the one who got in his way."

"Yeah. Because you're frustratingly nice. Try not to do that again next time?" He said with a raise of his brows. You sighed and gave a shrug.

"I didn't come here to be mothered." You paused and held his gaze. His back was on the man watching you both with a hawk-like glare, a setup that favored you because it kept him from seeing the way Jaemin's eyes glinted in understanding. When you spoke again, you made sure to keep your voice as even as possible.

"We need to catch up… on a lot of things."

"Now?" He asked in a low voice.

You gave a slight dip of your head.

"Yes… Now."

Barely a second after you said that, you felt an invisible force skim the edges of your consciousness. It was the same feeling you had back at the arena when he first showed his powers, the dizzy spell that made your focus momentarily swim. It was fleeting though, and before you could even take another breath, you saw the guard at the other end of the wall loosen his stance. There was a faraway look on his face as he stared off at the distance, confirming Jaemin's spell.

"We have ten more minutes. The others outside will notice if we take more than that," he said as he leaned closer towards the table. You tore your eyes away from the other man and swallowed.

"Are all of you okay? Are they still hurting you?" You asked the first question that you needed to get out of the way. His jaw tightened but he gave you a stiff nod in answer.

"We're holding up. The conditions are different now, but I don't think they're at that point yet where they are done with us. They can't kill us… yet."

You frowned in concern.

"What do you mean?"

"Jeno… Is holding them back. They've pretty much drawn their conclusions about our abilities but they still can't get rid of us since Jeno hasn't shown them his Arcana yet. They are keeping us just in case they need any of our powers to control him."

Your heart dropped at his words.

"Are they hurting him now too?"

"Yes. But they are still being careful with him."

"Can't you just tell me what he can do? Maybe I can help—"

Jaemin gave you a torn look from across the table.

"I can't. I trust you… but the less you know, the safer it is for you and us."

He didn't need to say that again for you to understand the implication behind his words. He's right. Who knows what lengths Cypher is willing to cross to get whatever it is that they need? If they can hurt them, they won't have any qualms about hurting anyone too. Besides, what Jeno can do is the least of what you need to know at the moment. However, there is one question you need Jaemin to clear up, no matter what it takes.

"I understand. But you need to answer my next question, Jaemin…" you asked now as you leaned closer towards the edge of the table. You met his gaze unwaveringly, your stare determined. 

"Tell me. What can my father do?"

His reaction was brief but instant. Jaemin's eyes rounded as surprise parted his lips.

"How did you…"

"I know everything now. He is an Arcana user just like you," your voice sounded thin as you answered. In your desperation, you reached out to squeeze his hand. "Jaemin, I know you have an idea of what he can do. I need you to tell me what it is because Cypher might be keeping him prisoner too."

The look that took over his features told you that this is one piece of information he wasn't expecting you to know.

"What do you mean Cypher has him too?"

You tried to desperately work through the words that are still so hard for you to voice out.

"This experiment that you're going through… It's just a piece of the puzzle. There was an earlier study that Cypher did called Project Irregular and my father was one of its subjects. There was another one with him, the Arcana Master of The World, but the identity of that person is still unknown. Jaemin, I know that you and the rest of your brothers are staying here because you want to figure out what Cypher is up to. This is it. If you tell me what my father and the other Arcana user can do, we can all solve this together and you can leave."

Jaemin pulled away from you, his expression torn. You knew he was trying to make a big decision in his head and you tried to bite back the urge to beg him to talk.

"I don't… I don't know much about The World. Ever since we were young, the identity of that person has always been kept away from the family. We didn't really know why, but we assumed he broke the code and was exiled or he left on his own. Your father might be the only one who knows him. He was the Head of the brotherhood and ran everything, that's why he also took care of us."

So IL Mondo wasn't the woman behind the clues but someone else…

"Was it also the same for… The Fool?"

His eyes snapped back at you urgently. You didn't falter, your voice low as you spoke.

"There are three of them, right? The third group of Arcana Masters."

Jaemin seemed pained as you said that. For a moment he looked like he was about to spill something but then he held back as he looked away.

"The Triad's identities have always been made private except to a select few through generations. They are kept under maximum protection, because they are the only ones who can affect other Arcana wielders like us. That means if ever they come under the control of the wrong people, even all of us combined can't do much to stop them," he explained slowly. "I cannot tell you where IL Matto is because they do not want to be found yet. It's better for that to remain that way, especially if you're saying now that Cypher got their hands on IL Giudizio and IL Mondo."

You tried to process that slowly. You leaned back on your seat momentarily just to try and sift through the new questions his answers bought.

"But my father… you at least know him. I know you do," you brought your gaze back at him, helplessness obvious in your features. Jaemin's jaw tightened and his hands locked tighter in front of him.

"I told you I'm going to help you, but please help me too. This is no longer just about you and your personal vendetta against the Institute. I'm not even sure if my father is still alive, but at least I need to know why they wanted him. This is about me too," you added.

The look he gave you was intense and yet you didn't look away. Finally, after what seemed like a long bout of silence, he spoke again. His voice was calm and controlled, and you knew he wanted you to take in every word he was about to say.

"The Judgement card is about balance. Good or evil, one force always has its matching energy, like the scales that should have equal parts of everything for the sake of order. Your father… can deflect and reflect Arcana powers aimed at him into something or someone else. If, lets say I try to use mine on him, he can bring it back to me with equal intensity. He has one of the rarest abilities, because he can hurt a fellow Arcana user with their own magic if he wanted to."

You took in a slow breath as you took his words in. Jaemin continued, his eyes never leaving your pale face.

"The Triad is also a different line of Arcana users. Unlike us who inherited the same powers from former masters, the abilities of their line shifts and changes every time they are passed down to a different user. So the skills of your father now will be different once they move to a new master. That's why I also can't help you with IL Mondo. None of us knew him, so we also don't know what he can do. The previous Masters who had his powers before can't even be used as a clue on what his abilities are now."  

You felt cold. There was one question that has lodged itself heavily on your throat.

"When do… Arcana powers get passed to a different master?" You asked slowly. The look Jaemin gave you confirmed your suspicions.

"When its former master dies."

A slight movement in your peripheral vision made you look up. One of the guards outside turned and peered into the room to check what was happening and your gaze slipped towards the one inside—who is still under Jaemin's hypnosis—in panic. Before you could even say anything,  however, you felt warmth wrap around your hand. Jaemin was staring at you with an intensity that made you snap your attention back to him.

"We have to move fast. I feel like Cypher is going to do something soon."

"We have to get you out of here… At the right time," you whispered. He nodded.

"Tell us what you need us to do."

A beeping on the door told you that your fifteen minutes were over. Jaemin gave you one last look before it slid open.

"Whatever happens, remember. We can't let them have all of the Triad members."

*******

The clicking sounds of the keyboard filled your small bedroom with a monotonous hum. Your eyes bounced around the three men currently stationed on various spots of your usable space, who, ironically, seem to be watching each other in their own surreptitious ways too. To be honest, you would have found the situation amusing if you all weren't working on something so serious, but right now, you can't really blame your guests for being wary of each other.

"So… How long have you been working for Cypher again, Sicheng?" You didn't know whether to feel relieved or nervous when Ten finally broke the suffocating silence from his spot by the floor. His expression looked casual, maybe slightly friendly even, but you still didn't miss the undercurrent of suspicion on his tone. Winwin looked up from his computer at his position on your study table and gave the other a wary glance. The poor boy has been trying his best to ignore the dagger stares he’s been getting for the last hour or so.

"Uh… for three years," he answered as he stole a look towards your direction. You shot him an apologetic smile from over the research files you have been reading.

"Three years… that means you pretty much have a hand in the Institute's core systems, right? What can you do with your access?" Kun was the one who asked this time. You winced. Unlike Ten, he was more blatant with his staring. It almost felt like he was giving an interrogation.

"I have database controls, access to cams, and overall security," Winwin replied as he turned his attention back to what he was doing. "Everything that Cypher endorses to the public, I can tap since the Institute relies too much on technology. It's a different case though for things they consciously keep a secret. I have to dig deeper for them."

"How hard is it to crack them?" You asked, finally deciding to join the conversation. Winwin momentarily frowned and ran a hand through his hair. He has been nothing but patient about this all throughout, but now you could clearly see his frustration even if it was just for a quick second.

"The kind of 'hard' you get from multiple firewalls, AES encryption, and other things. Seriously, it's not just the fact that they kept their files in another database that gives them away. The tech systems they used are the same ones that governments and intelligence organizations have. They definitely are hiding something they can't afford anyone to get their hands on."

Ten raised his brows and gave you an impressed glance. "He's good."

Kun, however, didn't look that much convinced yet. He finally closed the book he had been faking to read and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Sounds fancy. You think you can crack them then?"

You knew it was a rhetorical question, so you were surprised when Winwin politely returned the sass to the other. He turned on his seat to give him a look and nodded towards his computer screen with a satisfied look.

"Make that question a declarative. I just did."

Your eyes rounded. In an instant, you were flying out of your bed and going over to his side. It didn't take long for Kun and Ten to do the same.

"I think these are some of the last files of the research before they officially closed it and moved on to Project Dream," he said as he clicked on a sub-set of folders. Your eyes moved quickly over their labels before giving a nod towards the last one.

"Can you open that? It might have the summary of the study."

Winwin clicked on the said folder and typed in some code to unlock it. When the file finally opened, the text on it first looked like a mix of random shapes and letters. You watched as he typed a string of command on a smaller screen that slowly triggered each line to be coded into readable text. At that moment, all four of you fell into deep silence as you speed read over what was written there.

Researcher Notes:

06.06.2021.

The trial run ended successfully with both Arcana powers reflected and absorbed by the mimicry unit. The abilities of Patient 20, the Judgement, remains intact despite being in a coma. The deviant's  physical body, however, needs certain stimuli for his abilities to work and merge with Patient 21, The World's Arcana.

After a series of tests, both Arcanas have manifested successfully on the mimicry unit. A different set of input is needed to confirm the extent of adoption of both abilities.

Suggested next step of action: move to the second phase of the project.

You felt numb. The context of what you just read barely registered on you as you hyper focused on one detail.

Cypher does have your father.

He is alive… but in a state of coma.

"Go back to the other folders," you croaked as you tried to keep your wits on you. Kun looked at you worriedly from your other side and Winwin also seemed hesitant to move.

"Are you sure…"

"Just do it. Please."

The strain on your voice made the other three exchange quick glances. Finally, Winwin went back to the collection of folders in the root file. Your gaze fixated on one there and you pointed at it with your finger.

"Can you open that? The one labeled IL Mondo."

The boy did what he was told. Again, the four of you fell silent as you went through the page that opened. Unlike the first document with study notes, this one seemed like a patient profile. The moment the lines of code were translated by the system, your group gave a collective gasp at the photo that stared back at you from the screen. Under it were profile details typed in neo green font.

Patient 21.

Arcana Tag: The World / IL Mondo

Name: Haneul Lee

"Holy shit…"

Ten's whisper made you lean your hand at the back of Winwin's seat for support. The earlier numbness you felt was now mixed with a sickening dizziness as you tried to keep yourself from drawing back. You barely heard Kun's voice beside you as he spoke in an equally stressed tone.

"Scroll down. They have his Arcana ability listed there."

IL Mondo, The World, the last persona of the Arcana is representative of cycles and loops. Supernaturally, the patient possesses the ability to absorb Arcana powers of fellow masters and temporarily wield it as his own for a limited amount of time. As per test drill data, the subject can keep the absorption capacity to an average of 15 minutes.

Your mind felt like cotton. There was a part of it that was filled with noise, but there was also the side of you that was working to fit the pieces together. And they did fit. Almost too perfectly. You reached out to Kun now with a horrified look on your face, your hands squeezing his arm.

"I know what Cypher is planning to do."

"You—"

"My father's ability was to deflect Arcana powers. Whatever was sent towards him, he can reflect it on another target. Haneul can copy abilities from other masters. The last research notes mentioned a mimicry unit that was used to receive the abilities of both. Cypher combined and merged them in that unit. Haneul used his powers on my father, who then reflected it to the machine. They created something that can reflect a copied Arcana into someone else."

"Oh my god… and then Project Dream started," Ten whispered, his eyes wide. Winwin also caught on, looking pale in the face.

"The study where they got the set of different Arcana users."

You nodded.

"My father and Mr. Lee's abilities are useless unless there are other Arcana abilities involved. Project Irregular was the setup.  Project Dream was all about getting Arcana powers that can be absorbed by other people."

"That means… if Cypher successfully did it, they can create an army of Arcana users on their own," Kun said, his voice slightly trembling. All four of you looked at each other in shock. Everything Miyoung told you makes so much sense now.

She was trying to use the abilities of the boys for evil, but it was more than just weaponizing them. She must have known Cypher can never put them under total control so she… was going to make copies of them instead.

"What are we going to do now?" Ten asked after a moment of stunned silence. Your eyes found the photo of Haneul staring at you from the screen as you thought over the next step. Finally, you turned to Winwin, your face set.

"You said you have access to all the cameras and entrance portals of the Institute, right?"

He frowned. He looked unsure, as if he already knows your idea is a bad one.

"Yes. I can control them, but not for very long. Someone might notice if I do."

"That's good enough. Tonight's the perfect time. Can you smuggle me inside the Institute and make sure I don't get caught by any cameras?"

"But what are you planning to do?"

You set your lips determinedly at his question.

"I need to talk to someone."

*******

You tried to move as silently as possible in the deserted stark white corridors of the Institute. Despite being confident of Winwin's skills of blinding all the security cameras lining the halls, you can't help but throw furtive glances every now and then behind your back to make sure that nobody has taken notice of you yet. It was past midnight so the place is more or less bare, but that still didn't stop you from being hypersensitive on the slightest of noises.

You found the door you were looking for at a hallway you have not really ventured on before. You've only ever made your rounds on the places you were granted employee access, but you quickly tapped your hacked access card now on the slot by the entrance. With one last look at the shadowed hallway, you quietly slipped inside the room as the door parted with a mechanical hum.

"What the hell are you doing here?”

The moment you stepped inside, you felt your breath almost choked out of you as a pair of strong arms went over the half of your face and around your waist. The instinctual scream dissolved in your throat though as the iron grip hold on you suddenly loosened. Before you could even take your next breath, you felt yourself spun over to face your captor.

You looked shell-shocked at Jeno's equally stunned expression. The light in his room was dimmed, but you saw the way his eyes roamed down on you to check if you were alright. You were expecting him to let you go the moment he realized who you are, but instead his hands remained on your shoulders and unconsciously gave them a squeeze.

"I need to talk to you," you finally managed to gasp out. You saw his jaw tick as a frown of worry settled between his brows.

"You are not allowed to be here. It's dangerous—"

"I won't take long. Listen, Jeno, I found out what Cypher wants from all of you. You need to get out of here as soon as possible."

He looked confused. Finally, he lowered his hold on you though he kept the distance between you both. 

"My father. Cypher has him. They used his Arcana with the abilities of The World. We sneaked around the hidden files of the Institute and uncovered IL Mondo's identity and powers. He's Haneul Lee, the head of Cypher himself, and he can copy powers from other Arcana users like you."

Jeno froze in his spot as he processed your words. You continued, set on breaking down everything to him.

"They created a machine that combined both of my father and Haneul's abilities. Then they took all of you because they need your powers to be replicated. That's the reason why you are here. Cypher is not going to be using you, they will be creating clones of all of you. Do you see what I’m saying? You need to get out of here before they even unlock your abilities because they might kill all of you the moment you show it them. You are the only one keeping them from getting rid of the others."

This time, Jeno took a slight step back. He looked shocked by everything you just said, his eyes dark with questions.

"You've confirmed that your father is still being held by Cypher?"

You gave a tight nod and swallowed through the painful dryness of your throat.

"We can't just leave him here then. If we get out, he needs to go too. Do you have any idea what other things the Institute's machine can do?"

"No… they just said it has successfully combined both my father and Haneul's abilities."

"I doubt any advanced technology could entirely change and control abilities that do not belong to this world so I'm sure your father is still being kept alive. They need him close to supply his abilities to that machine. We have to get him out of their clutches—that might possibly pull out his powers from whatever monstrous thing they created."

For the first time since you found out that your father was being kept prisoner, you actually felt a glimmer of hope. You haven't even considered the possibility of what he said, admittedly having focused more on the overwhelming feeling of helplessness that you initially felt. You felt a sting at the back of your eyes now as you stared at the boy in front of you.

"You're… you're going to help me save him?"

It seemed like he wasn't at all expecting your question. He looked at you, a look of guilt and compassion taking over his features for a moment. In the middle of processing your own emotions, the warmth of his hand that touched your cheek almost made you break down to tears.

"Yes. You saved us. We're going to do the same for you."

You have barely parted your lips to answer when an electronic beeping from the entrance suddenly made the two of you freeze. Despite his instincts, Jeno was too late to do anything else other than hide you behind him when the door to his room opened. You silently gasped. A man clad in Cypher's warden uniform stepped inside and turned on the switch, filling the quarters with light.

"What is happening here?"

You flinched at the gruff voice that called out to your pair. In front of you, Jeno has turned into stone, his form still but tensed. Your heart was beating hard on your chest, but you fortunately still had enough sense for your quick thinking to kick in. Carefully, you stepped out of his cover and tried your best to meet the icy cold stare of the man in front of you.

"I'm his doctor. I was doing last minute rounds," you thanked years of training for the steady voice that came out of you. If not for the slight shaking of your hand as you lifted your ID, you would have easily come off as confident and calm.

The man gave one quick glance at your identification before training his eyes on your face again. You knew from his expression alone that he doesn't believe a single shit of what you just said, but that doesn't mean you're going down without a fight.

"At 1 AM in the morning."

You nodded. "I was going through something urgent with him so I rushed here. It is not out of rules for me to talk to my patients for emergency cases, is it not?"

The man didn't say anything, knowing what you were saying was true. Instead, he looked towards Jeno again who was still glaring at him from his spot.

"Emergency and unmoderated meetings are not being encouraged now. Whatever it is you need to talk about, you can discuss during assigned appointments. Let's go. I will escort you out."

You didn't like the idea of that. Before you could even say anything, however, Jeno stepped in front of you again.

"She's going to leave here on her own."

The man was not stupid enough not to catch the threatening tone in the other's voice. You watched, terrified, as the guard took a step closer towards him before giving him a malicious leer.

"I don't take orders from abnormals like you."

Jeno didn't seem fazed at all. Instead, he met the older man's glare with equal intensity, his jaw ticking.

"You try to put a finger on her and I swear this abnormal will make you regret it forever."

"You don't scare me, you fucking pretty boy. You don't even have the guts to show your powers," the man spat out, his face red. Veins have bulged on his temples now in anger and he had taken a step closer towards the younger male. You were terrified. In the middle of trying to calm yourself down, Jeno did something that made the blood in your veins freeze even more.

He smirked.

"I have news for you, old man. I can destroy you… even without using a drop of what I can do on you."

You held your breath. He said that in such relaxed calmness, and yet you felt a different kind of fear climb up your spine at the sound of his voice alone. You knew it wasn't just you who felt the eerie chill too, as the guard slowly paled and slightly leaned back. The man's eyes slipped towards you before going back to him.

"Go. Leave now." Jeno's voice broke through your stupor. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes still trained on the warden, and you took that as your chance to finally move. With one last look at him, you wordlessly walked away, your heartbeat eerily slow in your chest.

Jeno waited until the sounds of your footsteps fully disappeared before he let himself relax just a little. In front of him, the man continued to stare at him with an unreadable look in his face. He threw him one last glare before he turned and started walking towards his bed again. Jeno had every intention of ignoring him when the words of the guard momentarily made him stop.

"You know, she's right. Being here is technically not against the rules for her. But it makes you wonder…"

"How did your little girlfriend manage to enter a section restricted to her?"

*******

You tried to keep your nerves under control as you walked, once again, through the sprawling corridors of the Institute. Unlike the night before when you tried to move in secret, you made your way now in the well-lit halls of Cypher like you do on the regular. If you're going to be completely honest with yourself now, this is the last place you wanted to be in after the stand-off that happened last night, but you figured you will just cause more suspicion if you skip work today. And so here you are, your heels clacking against the floor, with the letter you found on your table this morning clutched in your hand.

Your grip unconsciously tightened around it now as you turned the corner. Unlike the first one you received from Mrs. Lee before, this one seems less personalized, with its sparse content printed in black ink. There was nothing much written on it, just a single line requesting you to attend a test session and a room number. You remember picking it up and glancing over Kun's table to check if he also got the same just like last time, but his desk seemed bare and it was obvious he hadn't even clocked in yet. Despite the odd feeling in your gut, you decided to come and find the room anyway, hoping whatever this is would be quick.

You have already found the designated corridor when your steps slowed down as a wave of realization gripped you. This isn't the first time you have been here. Looking around, you realized it was the same part of the floor where you found Renjun being subjected to Cypher's tests. An eerie chill slowly sank in your veins as a thought struck you. Are you here… to sit through one of those sessions again?

You didn't have time to entertain the thought as you found yourself standing right in front of the very door you were supposed to look for. You stared at it, stuck in the middle of feeling nervous and afraid, before you finally started reaching out for its handle. The door opened without you having to use your access card and you stared at the dark room beyond before carefully stepping inside. You weren't expecting that the lights would be out, but you could tell from the pitch dark of the room that it was mostly bare. Before you could even reach towards the wall to feel for a switch, the lights finally came on, momentarily blinding you. When you finally opened your eyes again, you found yourself staring at an odd view.

Seven pairs of eyes looked back at you in equal shock from the other side of the glass wall. It took you a few seconds to figure out what was off about the situation, but then it clicked and you felt your heart drop.

The boys were still in the viewing area… while you stood, alone, in the very space that Renjun was tortured in before.

You watched as some of them parted their lips in horror as they realized the same thing. Before any of you could do anything, a searing shock split your sides. You gave a scream before you felt your body toppling backwards.

Your consciousness left you before you even hit the floor.

*******

You woke up slowly and groggily. Head still stirring, the first thing that registered to you was the dull numbness on your side and a slight buzzing in your ears. Even as you finally opened your eyes, your mind still couldn't make sense of what you were seeing. That is, until your vision focused on the terrified look of the boy staring at you from a distance.

Mark…?

"You're awake now? Good. Let's get this over with."

A cold voice from beside you made you turn your head around. Standing behind the same machine that was used on Renjun before was a woman wearing a blue lab coat. She wasn't even looking at you, her focus set instead on the dashboard of controls connected to the unit she was tinkering with. Wires stuck out of it in a web and you followed their trail with your gaze in your half-awake state. They spread out across the room… stopping right on the seat you were currently strapped into.

And just like that, you jerked forward as realization finally hit you like a tidal wave. In your panic, you tried to stand up, only for you to realize that your hands and feet were bound in leather straps to a chair in the middle of the room. You started thrashing around in fear, the wires attached to you stirring with your movements.

"Stop fighting it. It's not like you can do anything about it anyway."

"Quiet down. You'll only make this harder for yourself," the woman answered. She had already seated herself behind the machine, half of her face now covered with protective glasses. You watched as she bent down on a small microphone that stuck out in front of her, her voice cold as she spoke to it.

A man's voice made you whip your head towards the other side of the room. You froze as you met the malicious stare of the same guard from last night. He slowly tipped his lips into a lopsided smile that made your stomach twist in knots.

"What the hell is going on! Let me go!"

"Ready to deploy round one in 15 seconds. Controls set to medium intensity."

Another voice cackled from the other end of the line. The moment it spoke its first word, your heart froze in your chest.

“Make sure it’s enough for a reaction, but don’t kill her. Yet.”

Miyoung Lee.

“Copy, Ma’m.”

That was the last you heard before you curled in on yourself in the next split second. The sensation that took over you was unlike anything you have experienced. There was a blinding flash of light that signaled the attack and then your veins felt like they were shocked with ice before an excruciating burning feeling took over them. It was not even close to the feeling of being electrocuted, with the pain lingering longer in currents buzzing under your skin. Half of your consciousness didn’t even register the way your body stiffened on your seat before slumping after. Your eyes were open as they stared, shell-shocked, on your hands which have turned into a ghastly white as they grabbed on the seat handles.

“STOP!”

You heard muffled shouts from the distance followed by a dull thumping from the other side of the room. You wanted to lift your head to look at whoever was screaming, but your body was still in shock from what you just went through.

“Her heart rate spiked but not to the maximum yet,” the woman dictated from the other side of the room.

“Give her another round.”

You parted your lips to say something, but your words were cut off when the same feeling gripped you again. This time, it took longer, the sensation lasting for a few more seconds before it subsided. You could hear a different set of screams, and you realized, with pained detachment, who was making it the moment you slumped back from the attack.

It was you.

“Her blood pressure is spiking, Ma’m.”

You blindly raised your head this time to lean it against the back of your seat. Your skin was starting to feel cold in some areas, but the back of your neck was tingling with prickles of heat. As you did, your eyes finally met the others at the other end of the room. You were almost half gone so you couldn’t fully process what you were seeing, but you were still alive enough to get an inkling of the situation outside. Mark, Haechan, and Renjun were pressed against the glass, their faces contorted with pain as they stared at you in horror. Behind them, barely visible, were Jaemin, Jisung, and Chenle. Your sight had started going blurry at the edges, but you thought you saw them try to hold back someone.

Jeno.

“Don’t they all look worried, dear?” Miyoung’s voice registered slowly as you heard her speak over the speaker in the room again. “Too bad they can’t do anything to save you. This room is designed to hold their abilities back, unless they do something extra special. You think you can take one more to give them the extra push, love?”

You couldn’t react, your eyes closing instead from the excruciating pain and exhaustion that lingered in your veins. Beside you, you heard the slight humming of the machine again as the lady in the lab coat tried to power it back.

“Give her another shot. Put it in maximum intensity this time.”

There was a slight pause.

“Ma’m, are you sure? That would be double of the last two.”

“You heard me.”

“But this machine isn’t designed for average humans—”

“Just do what I say.”

You would have steeled yourself after you heard that, but your consciousness was already leaving your body for you to manage. Slowly, you opened your eyes and stared at the light hanging above your head. You felt almost detached as you listened numbly at the beeping countdown of the torture machine in the room.

5. 4. 3. 2. 1.

And that’s when you heard it.

If the pain was excruciating earlier, then it has definitely gone beyond comprehension now as the shock sank its electric jaws on you once more. Your sense of sight had started to shut down too, your vision turning black for seconds even with your eyes wide open. It was painful… so painful that you wanted nothing more for it to end. You wanted it to stop. You wanted death.

A deafening boom filled the room, dull enough to assault your ears but still loud to make you realize that something else was happening. As soon as it came, the pain assaulting you stopped, only for your senses to focus on some manic screaming going on around you. Blindly, you tried to lift your head to see what was happening.

You have somehow managed to throw yourself on the floor, your body half a foot away from the seat you were once strapped on. Covering you like a dome was a semi-opaque shield that buzzed and ebbed like waves. It was the same one that Jisung created to protect you back at the arena, but this one seemed thicker and crackling with more energy. Before you could even fully take that in, another shrill scream tore your attention away. Your eyes widened with shock at what you saw beyond your safe field.

Except for the area you were currently slumped on, the rest of the room looked torn apart with cracks from the ground up to the ceiling. The glass wall that separated you from the other side is now gone and loose wiring and broken glasses dripped from the ceiling above. Those things, unfortunately, were not the worst of it. When your eyes finally scanned your immediate surroundings, you felt a sob of fear forcefully torn out of you.

The warden from earlier was screaming at the top of his lungs, his eyes wide and mouth gaping. Half of his face was black and burned and one of his arms seemed to be covered with blood. You watched with horror as he reached out his other arm towards you, but before you could even flinch, a black towering form rose from the ground behind him like smoke. It moved with targeted intention as it loomed over the man now and took hold of half of his body. The figure was human-like, but instead of a defined structure, its towering height seemed to be made of shadows, with yellow glowing eyes on top of its head. You were petrified. The man in front of you screamed and clawed at the floor, looking half-mad with terror.

“He–Help me—!”

You didn’t even realize that your screams had mingled with his at what you witnessed next. The shadow monster pulled at the warden’s legs before melting into the ground again in a blur of darkness. A sickening wet sound followed after as the man’s body was dragged deep under, leaving nothing but a trail of blood and flesh on his wake as he was sucked into oblivion. Beside the spot he just disappeared on was another blob of guts… and a blue lab coat stained with blood.

The next few seconds that followed felt too much for you to grasp. Blindly, you turned your head to the side and found the rest of the boys staring at the wreckage in front of them. Standing in the middle, his eyes glowing with the same black the shadow monster was made of… was Jeno.

You started losing consciousness when he turned his head towards you. Before you finally succumbed to the shock, you heard Miyoung’s voice again from the broken speaker in the room. It made her tone break in places, making her sound even more mad with glee as she spoke.

“Finally… It’s nice to meet you..."

"Master of the Death Arcana.”

CHAPTER 12

*******

A/N: Can I just say... Writing this took out a lot from me lmao. 

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