#Han x oc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hanibalistic · 2 years ago

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THE CLASSIFIED INVESTIGATION UNIT | STRAY KIDS.

genre | (in general of the universe) fluff, angst, friendship, action, found family au, magic au

synopsis | between meeting a new recruit and being sent to catch a criminal to do damage control, the last thing you thought would happen to you and the twins, as one of the nation's strongest trio, was getting your ass heavily kicked.

word count | 26.2k+

warning | fighting & violence, blood, injuries, descriptions of body mutilation / mentions of kidnapping & criminal activities / sacrilege

universe | tciu / here is the discord link to its world-building server if you are interested in knowing more :)

note | sonic the hedgehog. sonice the hedgehog... so nice... / thank you brat for the name :) / fight write is hard!

There was an abandoned cathedral that was never taken down. They grew trees around it instead and planted a bed of flowers on the ground surrounding it.

An old Jesus Christ statue hung in the center of the cathedral's inside; those born without a given power would turn to Christianity to have something to believe in or a community to belong to. It almost felt daunting for you to step foot into the cathedral the first time because of the existence of Han and Jisung. Somehow you always forgot that they were not the actual manifestation of an angel and a demon, and that those labels were only reification. Jisung, the angel counterpart of the twins, turned the statue upside down when he entered.

The cathedral was still empty when you arrived. It usually was vacant, saved for the leisure moments when you would visit for peace of mind even though the cathedral was broken and ugly.

The only trace of light came from the rose window above the double doors that creaked whenever they were moved, and it shone a light directly onto the upside-down statue of Christ. Unless the doors were kept open, most of the inside of the cathedral was barely visible. The wooden pews were dusted into homes of spiderwebs and unknown crawlers, and there were no designated seats for you or anybody else who would come by.

The only thing left of this holy ground was an eeriness that ran strong even before its abandonment. But at least it was far away and quiet. Hidden among trees and surrounded by cooing doves, at least the cathedral held a silence nowhere else but your bedroom at three in the morning held. But, even with that, the haunting shadows unlit by the sun seemed to have a past vengeance that would sometimes creep a cold shiver down your spine, so you did think the reason why you could find inner peace in this cathedral at all was that Jisung and Han were here.

You glimpsed at your phone to check the time before turning it off and resting it on your lap with your hands. You exhaled as you leaned your head on Han’s shoulder. He barely moved in response, already deep into concentrating ahead during this familiar waiting process. Occasionally Han would wonder how you three were often the earliest to arrive for team meetings when there were three of you while everyone else just had to prepare for one. But the issue never bothered him enough to find an answer.

“What are we doing here?” Jisung asked from where he sat up on the end of the statue’s wooden cross, breaking the silence. He swung his spread legs, barely hitting the old sculpted marble with the back of his shoes, and he carelessly suckled on the tootsie pop.

Han scrunched his nose in distaste when he glanced at Jisung’s careless demeanor. That was, in no way, an indication that he cared about anything of religious endeavors. But being a literal manifestation of a dead God himself, there was something about a tarnished statue once worshipped that was so unappealing to him. It could be resonance; his unknown creator died similarly, with their statue flipped over and nobody praying at their feet. But mostly, Han thought he didn’t like anything unconventional that Jisung did. It was a sibling thing.

“Get off the cross, Jisung,” Han scolded.

Jisung popped the candy out of his mouth and pouted. The velocity of his swinging legs increased a spiteful fraction, which proved the existence of a mischievous glint hidden in his adorable eyes drenched with faux concern. He grinned in satisfaction when he met Han's glare, knowing well that his twin brother did not care about this enough to physically make him get off his unconventional seat. If nobody planned to do that, and you decided not to verbally accost him for his disrespect, he would keep doing it.

You chuckled lowly when you felt the heavy sigh trapped within Han’s chest. Lifting your head from his shoulder, you flipped your phone over to recheck the time before looking up at Jisung. He grinned at you when you two met eyes, not a care in the world, which was how he was supposedly born to live on this Earth, ironically a sharp contrast to how he was born.

“Changbin is going to wrestle you out of there when he arrives and sees you like this,” you said.

“He’s coming?” Jisung asked with widened eyes.

“Yeah… yeah?” You looked at him with disbelief, unsure why he was surprised, but a part of you began questioning yourself upon Jisung’s confusion. “Everyone is always at these meetings.”

“Seungmin is never anywhere but his stupid, niche dude laboratory.” Jisung rolled his eyes. “It’s not even a laboratory. He just has computers in the room.”

That was partially true. Jisung was right about Seungmin’s government-provided office, which was just a basement Jeongin had convinced to be provided to their shared home, not being a laboratory. But there were more than just computers in the basement. A section of the wall covered with screens and multiple rolling whiteboards filled with scribbles and printed-out pictures of faces made an intricate system that only Seungmin and Jeongin could and were required to understand.

Additionally, there was a corner of food cabinets that Jeongin would often restock to fulfill Seungmin’s wish of never seeing the light of day again. In return, Seungmin takes down any online harassment directed toward Jeongin so he can keep his terrible attitude everywhere on broadcasts. In terms of toxic reinforcement, this duo can rival you and the twins.

“I don’t think Chan is always here for these meetings either,” Han mentioned with a tilt of his head. “But then again, he is somehow always everywhere, all the time.”

“I am, indeed, everywhere, all the time.”

You flinched at the closeness of Chan’s sudden appearance, almost jumping out of your seat as you turned your head to look behind your shoulder and found Chan smiling humorously between where you and Han sat. Han missed Chan sneaking up behind him, but he did not scare as easily as you, so within the calm processing of Chan’s abrupt emergence, he could execute retaliation by shooting a hand out to grab at Chan’s face. He missed because Chan swiftly scooted backward on the pew and leaned into the uncomfortable seat.

“Where did you even come from?” you asked rhetorically, but one wouldn’t have caught onto that without explicit mention. You brushed off the hair that rose on your skin, annoyed scoffs leaving your lips.

“Where else? From the door.” Chan pointed a thumb backward at the doors that were already closed.

You furrowed your brows. He was lying, but you could not figure out any alternative to how he could have entered the cathedral without any of you noticing him. If he went through the double doors, there should be some sensory indication of his arrival. The doors were so old that they creaked whenever they were opened. Even if Chan somehow managed to silently push one door open, the light that would temporarily shine through the gap would be impossible to miss, especially by Jisung, who was sitting directly across those doors.

However, you would not put it past Jisung to stay quiet upon Chan’s arrival. Chan wasn’t much of a stickler for good etiquette; he didn’t have the right to be with his background. If he wasn’t asked to be on his best behavior, which he has been pleaded to on multiple occasions, Jisung would gladly not do so. He wouldn’t go out of his way to behave terribly, but he was troubling enough as his regular self.

“So,” Chan kicked his feet up and rested his ankle on his knee, “what were you guys talking about?”

“I didn’t know Changbin was coming,” Jisung muttered unwillingly as he hopped off the upside-down cross. He dusted his knees which were uncovered by his shorts. This time his face held a pout.

Chan’s gaze trailed after Jisung as he moved begrudgingly toward you and Han. Jisung kicked Han’s feet when he squeezed between the space so he could sit next to you.

“Why does it matter if he is coming to the meeting?” Chan asked, amused. “Does one of the shoulder twins have a bad case of daddy issue?”

An alarmed but amazed smile slowly widened itself onto his face when the three of you simultaneously turned around to level him with an exasperated and unappreciative glare. The frequently debunked theory about you three being siblings surfaced in his head, and he shook it off with a shrug. You three were right about it being wrong, not because you would know your origin and relationship best, but because there was no way you three weren’t one unified being. The constantly coincidental rate you three operated around each other was too uncanny to be a product of just being close siblings.

“I don’t have daddy issues,” Jisung argued.

“Also, technically, Changbin isn’t our dad,” you said.

“And if anyone here has daddy issues, it should be you,” Han followed pointedly after you.

You three would do this sometimes—talk in sequences, one after the other, as if you were taking turns to speak fragments of a long sentence. The sentence you three individually utter could be put together into one prolonged sentence that, frankly to Chan, could have been said by just one of you. If not one long sentence, then you three would talk in relation to what the previous person said, adding new information but not straying from the initial point.

Chan was never a big fan of that. Everyone else brushed it off, though.

“That’s a bit harsh,” Chan mentioned dismissively. “He was your foster dad.”

“He would still be our foster dad if we didn’t choose to leave the system once we turned eighteen,” you said, putting quotation marks around the word ‘leave.’ A distasteful shrug arched at your shoulders as you scoffed at Chan’s disagreeing brows. “We were kids, but we weren’t stupid. We were just immature.”

“Were?” Chan snickered.

“We’re not laughing,” Han said. “Why else would we have to leave our previously perfect foster home for a single-parent household, where our guardian not only has no experience working with children before but was also coincidentally working for the military? The change happened immediately after the both of us were measured in the power scale test too.”

“We have been around since [Name] was born, and nothing outrageous has happened until we got transferred to the private school. Things started going downhill from there, and whose fault is that?” Jisung chimed in after pulling the tootsie pop out of his mouth. “There was no reason for them to suspect us unless ulterior motives existed. If they were truly afraid of us, they would have been smart enough to keep us in a nurturing environment, but they took us out instead and dumped us at the doorsteps of some military lackey who couldn’t give a shit about us.”

You pursed your lips together and laughed lowly once Jisung’s voice dropped. He looked down at you, confused, then back up at Han, who maintained a knowing smirk. He thought he was contributing to the conversation just fine, so why were the both of you laughing? Upon his genuinely questioning face, you laughed even louder and leaned back into Han to nudge him with your elbow.

“There is no reason to suspect us–pfff!” You wiped away an invisible tear. “That’s rich coming from you!”

“What?” Jisung screamed in his defense. “How am I the issue? Look at Han! He literally broke someone’s wrist with his bare hand!”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged, “he had to do it.” You weren’t even sure which occasion Jisung was speaking of.

“Oh, okay!” Jisung slurred in exasperation, clearly mocking you. “When he does it, it’s necessary. But when I do it, I have violent tendencies.”

“You do have violent tendencies,” you said.

“Also, I don’t know how you could get it so wrong because you were there when it happened, but technically I didn’t break it in one go,” Han clarified with a grimace, already deduced the event his brother mentioned with little to no hints. “I fractured their bone first, and then I shattered it. It wasn’t hard to break because it was already fractured beforehand.”

You gasped in realization. “Oh, that’s what you were talking about.”

Jisung shook his head. “You didn’t know–you defended him!”

“I always assume Han only does things out of necessity.”

Chan watched you three banter away about who was more aggressive and violent. In silence, his thoughts lingered on what Jisung unknowingly revealed about how you three felt about the whole shebang you were forced to go through as children, which was that the real issue lay in the fact that you all thought Changbin didn’t care about you three.

He always forgot how uncharacteristically human you three were. Conceived by force and birthed by love, the literal manifestations of a God, the three cosmic accidents—no matter the labels the media have slapped onto the three of you to fulfill their need to make sense of your inconceivably strong ability none has received from a God before, to reason with your inhumane existence, there was no denying that ultimately you three yearned for the same thing most people did: parental affection, and a normal childhood.

Not a regular life, just a regular upbringing.

Most of the relationship problems Chan knew about you three and Changbin he heard directly from the foster father himself. Chan recognized many of the discrepancies Changbin has with you three resulted from Changbin not knowing how to be a father, which he could never have learned how to! He did not agree to foster you; he was ordered to after being selected as a capable candidate to keep watch over Jisung and Han. It was never a good idea. The authorities should have known that teenage fiery in the hands of powerful children would react terribly to the expectations of a man trained in the special forces.

The only good thing about picking Seo Changbin as the foster parent was that he was a good man. Besides the disguised abuse of keeping you three under supervision like caged animals, he cared deeply about you all, and he did all he could to make the best of the time remaining in your adolescence. Alas, while he was a good man, he was not a good father, and you three wanted affection from a parent, not a kind stranger. If he was indeed a father, he would have cut himself out of fostering you three, or at least he would have done his parenting without the government's guidance.

Immature was too harsh of a word. Ignorant, or even unknowledgeable, would be the better way to describe how you three used to feel about this because it was much more complicated than only what he could have done. There would always be what the authorities could have done to you three if Changbin didn’t agree to be your temporary guardian and did, half-heartedly, what he was told. None of you could have ever factored that into the equation as teenagers. Looking at the bigger picture and being able to analyze it was not in your bones at that age. You were still being taught how to do that.

But, ultimately, actions speak louder than words. As much as you three deny the familial relationship, you play the role of children the way most parents are familiar with.

Ignoring Changbin’s constant nags to clean your shared room; arguing about taking turns folding the laundry and washing the dishes just to end up having your dad do everything; brief answers to questions about your day during dinner; discreetly throwing snacks into the shopping cart during grocery runs; slamming the door in retaliation of being screamed at despite having the power to do so much more damage. You can say all you want about how much you disliked Changbin, but playing the role of children and letting him act as your father was a choice you all made.

It was unfair for you three to discuss Changbin the way you were, but Chan supposed that was an inevitable experience.

“Dude, he’s gone.”

“I’m not. I just tuned you three out,” Chan muttered as he swatted the snapping fingers before his face away. “Also, they’re right, Jisung. You do have violent tendencies.”

Jisung sat back down in his seat with furrowed brows. A half-hearted scoff left his lips just as he pulled the almost-finished tootsie pop out of his mouth. “I know?” He put the hard candy back inside his mouth and bit down hard to crush the ball. The stick was thrown carelessly behind his shoulder after. “We were already done with that conversation. Catch up.”

Chan smiled warmly; getting him riled up would take a lot more. He watched you three drown in short conversations, one after another, about school, work, and different variations of the same insult match. He didn’t forcefully insert himself into your discussions because he was too drowsy to handle your three ganging up on him. Whatever happened just now was enough, so he spent the next few minutes dozing off in silence until the doors dramatically opened again.

“Yang Jeongin! You are late!” Jisung hollered after he jumped off his seat.

“Yeah, today is our only day off from school,” you said without looking up from the clock on your phone.

“We weren’t gonna do anything, but still,” Han finished.

Jeongin raised a brow from the doorway. The sunlight behind him glowed over his body, making him appear like a celestial being. He let the door creak shut behind him as he shuffled to the cathedral's center at an unhurried space. Giving a nod at the upside-down statue of Christ, Jeongin walked behind the pulpit and rested his hands on the side of it. He heaved a sigh dramatically with a smile.

“Chan,” he acknowledged, “and the three musketeers.”

Han smirked even though he didn’t particularly find it funny. He knew for sure that Jeongin’s mischief was only fueled by the sulk in you and Jisung’s shoulders, even if Jeongin may not be sure whether you two were sulking because of how fashionably late Jeongin was or that he mentioned you three were going to spend the day off being unproductive anyway.

“Sorry for being late. I had a presentation today at school,” Jeongin said with a few rhythmic tilts of his head. “Then I have an emergency press conference for the stunt you guys pulled at the metro station last week!”

You were dispatched last week to fulfill one of the more straightforward BOLO requests made on the website Seungmin made to help him better seek out cases for the unit. When Hyunjin related the matter to you, he complained about the vague details Seungmin gave him before informing you of the face of the man you were asked to catch, a broad time range and the location where he would be within the time frame. You should have asked more of the request, but you remembered Hyunjin mentioning something about the website not being within the scope of the investigation unit work, making it technically a work of vigilantism to fulfill citizen requests, which would be illegal.

The vague details were Seungmin’s way of making sure none of you dumbasses (his words) could make an unnecessary mess with the police by oversharing.

That man was fast; hyper-speed was typical, but catching him during rush hour made it a hassle. You suggested taking the chase to the moving train; one way to stop a runner from escaping is to block the paths he could run to.

Before the train could reach the next station, while it was still in the middle of the railroad among shopping buildings and above car roads, you had Han manually stop it by causing a malfunction. You didn’t give him the idea to clear out a car of passengers so he could blow it up in the middle of the railroad. Han thought of that himself after Jisung jokingly pointed out that a heavy accident would stop a train. It did accomplish your goal, except Han also blew up a section of the rail where the pieces of the blown-up car fell through and landed on the road, and the remaining cars of the train approaching the hole almost followed.

Jisung clapped his hands while he barely perked up in his seat. “Oh! Han was the one who did that, not me!”

Han clicked his tongue as his eyes rolled. “Shut up. It was your idea.”

You hummed in disagreement. “Actually, I was the one who told you to do that. You just executed the plan.”

“Your plan almost killed a whole train of people,” Jeongin chimed in with a slow emphasis on each word to garner attention, almost like he was talking to toddlers. He was extremely generous by leaving out any mentions of infrastructure damage and heavily injured citizens. Then, distractedly, he waved his hand toward the three of you. “Also, stop talking in threes like that.”

“Thank you!” That was Chan.

“Seungmin should be giving us information about what I planned for you three to do later today, and Felix will fill you in on the rest. I can be the only person doing damage control, and I always have,” he briefly put a hand to his chest with an award-winning smile before his smile turned annoyed, “but I am exhausted this week, so your reckless asses are only getting thirty percent of my help.”

Jisung sneered and looked away from the pulpit. “Don’t you just have to speak into a microphone during a broadcast to brainwash people?” “Yes,” Jeongin nodded, “which I can’t be bothered to do for the mess you–”

“Han,” Jisung interjected.

“I don’t care,” Jeongin retorted with an empty, wide-eyed smile. “Just do what I ask, appease the public, and we can get this public outrage over with.”

Chan snickered from the back. His feet shook on his knee, and his eyes gleamed a certain proudness in seeing Jeongin barking (or squirming out) orders at his young age. “Han destroyed a rail built in the middle of a bustling city during rush hour,” he said. “I think this goes far beyond mere public outrage.”

Jeongin exhaled without any thoughts. Having something to say was the last thing he wanted to do, which was unfortunate because he was born to always have something to say. Whether it was about how he felt about a situation, an argumentative point crafted out of his want to be the conversation ender, or all the information from the internet Seungmin would mindlessly feed him as they shared a supposedly relaxing space. Jeongin always has something to say, and he was born to always tell them in a world where he could be inconvenienced by speech.

“People will sweep it under the rug a few months later.” Jeongin waved his hand with narrowed eyes. “Seungmin predicted that it would.”

“Everybody is different.”

“He figured you would say that too,” Jeongin muttered. “He told me to tell you, verbatim, people are only different as individuals. Many people running together turns them into a system that operates on a set of rules, which will make their actions predictable patterns, so stop coming for our decisions.”

Chan shook his head with a shrug. “I’m not coming for you two. I’m just giving a word of advice, a different perspective.”

“Unsolicited advice is unwanted and unnecessary.”

“It won’t be unsolicited if it is wanted and necessary.”

“Isn’t it tiring to talk so much, Chan?” Jeongin asked warmly and slowly to enunciate each syllable. “I know you would love to stop talking, so do that, Chan. Stop talking.”

Forced under Jeongin’s persuasion, Chan did not reply. He just smiled, his feet shaking more vigorously and his eyes staring harder at the front center of the cathedral. Those were signs of rebellion that people rarely showed Jeongin whenever he tried to charm his way into being benefitted. Chan’s jittery movement indicated that he knew Jeongin was putting him under a vocal spell and was unwillingly submitting to it.

“Why would you engage in a verbal battle with someone who has psychic power? Jeongin doesn’t have a pride big enough not to cheat his way to a win,” you muttered as you peeked behind you. When Chan deadpanned at you, your brows raised in faux realization, and you grinned. “Oh, right. You would love to stop talking.”

Jisung audibly laughed. He raised his hand to give you a firm high-five, which you barely returned. You thought a snarky remark stop being snarky if it’s shown its intended purpose, and Jisung’s high-five was doing that. He noticed your lack of enthusiasm and responded to it with furrowed brows.

You and Han were getting on his nerves through all the petty reasons he could think about. It happened before you three were pulled from a typical day to the cathedral. From you hogging the sink to wash your face when he needed to spit out the toothpaste in his mouth, to Han refusing to get him the leftover cup of bubble fruit tea in the fridge even though Han was already in the kitchen area, to the both of you ganging up on him about his (admittedly accurate) violent tendencies, and just now you refused to give him a proper high-five.

Opening his mouth and ready to scream in defense of himself, Jisung was halted to a stop when one cathedral door was kicked open. Jeongin blinked in acknowledgment upon seeing Changbin huffing by the doorway. Chan could already tell who was there by the way the door was opened, as well as the little furious taps Jisung landed on your thigh to signal you and Han about who had arrived. You didn’t react when you saw Changbin, while Han frowned.

Changbin’s main target was Jeongin, but the first thing he did was search for you three. He relaxed when he saw all of you turned to watch him by the door. Then he raised an arm to point toward the overturned Jesus Christ statue behind Jeongin.

“Hey!” he hollered, his accusing finger shaking. He was clearly talking to you three. “Which one of you turned Jesus upside down?”

You and Han simultaneously pointed toward Jisung. The odd one out dropped his jaw, the nape of his neck turning sour and red at the collective accusation. He would not have cared if it had been anyone else instead of Changbin. But Jisung knew you were right that Changbin would wrestle his soul out of him for what was done to an abandoned statue of Christ, and despite being intimidated by Changbin, he still did it anyway.

“Tattle tales!” Jisung lunged at you both with his palm. Neither of you attempted to dodge his attacks seriously.

“We told you not to do it,” Han said.

“We did,” you agreed.

Changbin rolled his eyes as his arm dropped to his side with a weak flail. Taking his hand and rubbing it over his face and hair, he grimaced at the sweat collected at the gaps of his fingers. Jeongin had instructed him to wait outside the cathedral until being given the cue to enter, but the burning sun outside made it feel as if he had been waiting for an unnecessary hour. Plus, the man in cuffs he was watching over outside was getting on his nerves for seemingly not rolling a drop of sweat despite being in suffocating clothing.

This meeting could have been held somewhere indoors with air conditioning, but no, the cathedral was the choice! Standing under the sun with a fuse on his head as he waited for Jeongin’s dramatic entrance to be over was the choice! When he barged in for some cool shade, the first thing he found was that one of his children had done something sacrilegious! It was not a good day for his betterment-still-in-progress temper.

“Hey,” Changbin turned to Jeongin and nudged his head to gesture out the door, “he’s outside.”

“Get him in here,” Jeongin said. “We’re on a tight schedule.”

“I’m surprised you know that.”

“Why is everyone coming out of nowhere today?” Upon hearing Felix's voice, Chan threw an arm over the backrest of the pew. The shaking of his feet stopped when he saw the entering of an unfamiliar man, but he kept the leg propped over the other to maintain a comfortable sitting position.

Minho, still confused as ever since he got pulled out of his prison cell this morning, examined the cathedral motionlessly through the gaps in his long hair.

He knew Jeongin, an overconfident piece of shit at a job he was supposed to be unqualified for. But since the boy was the reason he was out of prison in the first place, Minho had no other negative thoughts about him. Then there were Changbin and Felix, both of whom he had met today. Felix was docile and kept to himself because he could not be bothered, while Changbin was uptight and kept to himself because he had a job.

The upside-down cross caught his eyes. He thought he heard someone arguing about it—his eyes shifted to the side to where you three were seated. All possibly Jeongin’s age, two of which were identical with drastic differences in stylistic choices, perhaps to make it easier for them to be distinguished from each other. The formula was familiar. He had heard passing noises from prison guards about the emergence of sentient powers in the form of people and scored in the nation’s top percentile on the scaling test. A pair of twins and a host, to be specific. You three fit those criteria to a T.

Minho had no idea you were going to be here. Your presence caused a strain on his escape plan.

Initially, he only had Changbin to worry about. He calculated it during the silent car ride to the cathedral; quiet for him and Changbin, chatty for Felix and Jeongin. However, he had a notion that Felix was carrying on with the conversation out of politeness. Since Felix and Jeongin possessed passive abilities, the only threat in his vicinity was Changbin, whose ability he has yet to learn of. Minho reckoned he should worry more about Changbin’s physicality than the ability he possessed, though.

He planned that once the suppression cuff was removed, he would slap it onto Changbin and make a run for it. Jeongin’s power was descended from the God of Intelligence, but his power was verbal persuasion, meaning all Minho had to do to counter him was not to listen. He could do that. He was phenomenal at ignoring people. Whatever would happen next, things such as laying low or a change of identity, he would hash it out later. That was how he had planned to escape. But with you here, he wasn’t sure if escaping was a plausible chance.

He may have to do more than he wanted to. Should he use the suppression cuffs on you and take a risky bet with Changbin? Or should he disable the muscle man and take a risk with you?

Minho’s eyes scanned across you three to the pew behind you. His heart flinched, but his body remained motionless when he saw Chan was already staring pointedly back at him. Chan looked deep in thought but not too drowned in it that Minho could not feel the attention Chan had grounded on his face. Minho’s eye twitched when Chan smirked. Another passive ability? Could it be mind reading? Minho wished it was mind-reading. Chan looked to have a well-toned body, and he looked like he’s got some fight in him, but Minho had a lot of hands-on experience. He could take a risk.

The real problem here were you and Changbin.

“He’s plotted something,” Chan whispered after he leaned his torso forward to the three of you.

Han turned his head but kept his eyes on Minho, who was ushered to sit on the pew before you. “Who is this?”

“I don’t know,” Chan shrugged, “I’ve never met him before.”

“Is he why we are here today?” Jisung muttered, watching the back of Minho’s head. “He’s wearing a prison uniform.”

“Oh…” you exhaled quietly. Cranking your neck to examine Minho's blue suit, you finally noticed the similarities. “I didn’t know they actually look like this.”

“What else would they look like?” Han chuckled.

You shrugged, your lips quirking down dismissively. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it’d actually look like what television shows us.”

“I always thought they were orange jumpsuits,” Jisung added.

“I think they have orange jumpsuits in the West,” Han said. “I saw it on a thumbnail of an American show.”

Minho barely raised his brows during the eavesdrop. You three were idiots.

“Jeongin,” Felix called from the side when he saw that Jeongin was about to dive into a prolonged introduction. He tapped on his wrist, causing Jeongin to sigh. “Seungmin has a lead on the guy. They should leave now.”

“Of course. Nothing ever goes my way.” Jeongin rubbed his face. He then gestured toward Minho. “Take the cuffs off. We can’t be restraining him if we’re gonna ask him for a favor.”

Changbin remained in his seat for a begrudging second. When Jeongin made no further clarifications or alternative requests, he sighed and got up. He kept the annoyed murmurs inside his head, complaining about taking orders from a university student with too much ego for his own good, and he dragged his feet near Minho, not noticing the slightly growing smirk hidden behind the prisoner’s long hair.

The suppression cuffs are hand print registered instead of key-locked, so only a select few individuals could release the suppression cuffs. Patiently, Minho watched as Changbin warmed his palm against the curve of the cuff, dimming its golden gleam, and slid it over his hand.

Before the cuff was taken off his hand entirely, Minho perked his head up to catch Changbin off guard. He closed his fingers around the cuff and attempted to snatch it away from Changbin’s grasp. Changbin quickly responded, closing a fist around the curve and tugging at it. Minho tilted his head, having anticipated the reaction, aimed his free hand at Changbin’s face for his attack to be blocked expectantly. Keeping Changbin’s hand around his fist, Minho shook the cuff off both their hands, caught it before it reached the ground, and slapped it around Changbin’s wrist.

Changbin stumbled with his arm raised, his eyes searching for the cuff he could feel around his wrist. Taking Changbin’s processing time for granted, Minho whipped around and swiftly hopped on the back railing of the cathedral pew. He looked at you—no, not you, not the host. His eyes shifted to the side. Whichever one of the twins. The one who stood up in response, perhaps.

Han quickly grabbed Minho’s swung arm, missing his hand and ignoring the sharp sound of wind reverberating throughout the motion. Putting all his weight into the fall, Minho dropped from the pew and forced Han to stumble sideways for space to move. Minho landed on his feet and wasted no time shoving Han’s grip off his wrist. He doubled his punch, trying to aim for Han’s face again but decided against it last second. He realized something, an assumption that surfaced late from watching Han stand up with an arm extended to shield himself.

This could not have just been the entertaining rumors about you three’s relationship. Han was shielding you for more than just the feelings you two shared but also because you were a lifeline. You were the reason why Han and Jisung existed. If Minho wanted to copy your power, he should take it directly from the host, not the power themselves. The twins were of no use to him. You were.

Minho retracted his fist, missing Han’s face on purpose and causing the younger boy to furrow his brows. Turning swiftly, Minho’s eyes burned a hole in your face as he moved toward you.

“Woah, not so fast,” Jisung said as he shot his arm out and tried to close his hand around Minho’s wrist.

Minho huffed with a sneer; he didn’t think touching you would be easy. Still, he hated that it was proven difficult. He ducked his arm, dodging Jisung by a scrape, but Jisung instinctively blocked Minho’s advance toward you by changing the course of his hand downward instead of forward. Laughing aloud, Jisung pulled back just enough for his hand to land on Minho’s elbow. He grasped onto Minho and yanked.

“Who are you?” Jisung whispered when he came face to face with Minho, his hand tight over the prisoner’s shoulder.

Minho raised his brows, not disregarding Jisung’s bone-breaking grip. He supposed he struck a nerve when targeting at you, but he still has no plans to answer the question despite being held captive. “Maybe you’ll do.”

“What?”

Jisung peered down at his hand, which Minho had put his palm over, holding onto him and nothing else. A numbing sensation slowly cast over the covered spot, and Minho could feel it too. But it wasn’t long before the numbing sensation turned into a sharp burn. It was a feeling he could not correctly describe with words. Even though the sensation lingered only on his palm, it felt as if his entire body was overwhelmed with pressure, like a pit of fire was growing and finding an exit from within his body.

Minho held onto the heated pressure for a little before he snapped back with a curse. His fingers twitched uncontrollably until the feeling finished soothing over at a painstakingly slow rate. Jisung stepped back with a frown as he rubbed the back of his palm off Minho’s touch. He eyed Minho up and down, feeling uncertain and mildly offended that Minho flinched away from him like that. Were his hands rough? He swore he applied lotion after showers like you asked him to!

“Everyone, this is Lee Minho. He has a copy ability, like Kirby.” Jeongin introduced casually from the pulpit. Chan tilted his head and rolled his eyes up as fragments of recognition surfaced. Jeongin continued before he could chime in, “Minho, please sit down so we can proceed. And the three little pigs–“ He paused to nod at your frowns of distaste with a smile. “I would have all of you here for the recruiting process, but we have wasted too much time, so please, talk to Felix outside.”

Changbin, who was fidgeting with the suppression cuff, debated against placing it on the pew where it was within reach of Minho. As you stood up from your seat and trailed behind Han to leave, he tried shoving the cuff in his pants pocket only to find it too big to fit. He clicked his tongue and kept it in his hands; he wasn’t sure why he acted as if he couldn’t talk to you while holding something important, like a suppression cuff or boiling soup.

“Hey, you three!”

Felix widened his eyes a fraction by the door and looked elsewhere. His impatience dissolved for a minute to allow Changbin the time to get whatever he needed to say across. He would just have to make a point for you three to rush to wherever Seungmin needed you to be.

“What?” you responded. When Changbin took a beat too long to answer, you visibly sighed. “Jeongin said we wasted too much time, so we’re probably in a rush–“

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” Jeongin pointed at you.

You rolled your eyes as Jisung threw a brief middle finger up in the air at his friend. Changbin, with unsurprised disappointment, eyed him from across.

“You literally just said we’ve wasted too much time,” you said.

“I didn’t say it so you can use it to get out of talking to Changbin,” Jeongin retorted, not forgetting to give Changbin an apologetic nod when the older man turned around to stare at him in shock. “Figure out your own excuse.”

“Why are you such a bitch today?” Han asked as a complaint.

“I’m a bitch every day. It’s concerning that I wasn’t a bitch enough to you for you to see that.”

“I’m gonna beat him up,” Jisung muttered. You patted his arm as discouragement. He pushed your hand away.

Felix expected Jeongin to refrain from speaking up. He thought Jeongin didn't have to do it at all because that served no purpose other than interrupting Changbin and delaying your work even longer. He stepped forward by the door, ready to call out for your attention, but immediately stopped again when he caught Changbin raising his arm. He stepped back again, kindly letting the man have his moment.

“Do you three want to drop by later for dinner?” Changbin asked. “I attended a high school reunion party the other day and still have a lot of leftovers.”

You, Jisung, and Han shared a few glances. The silence was deafening, and watching Changbin stand awkwardly in waiting gave Chan the urge to lighten the mood. But he was focused on watching Minho’s back, discreetly observing the changing gleams in Minho’s half-covered eye as he curiously turned around to pay attention to the painfully forced conversation. Chan wasn’t sure why he had a hunch, but he predicted that if all went well, Minho would soon shield Changbin’s fatherly heart the way Felix had been, only in very different ways.

Nobody in this investigation unit was a stranger to the strained relationship Changbin has with the three of you. Seungmin and Jeongin have read each of your profiles detailing necessary information and experiences; Chan and Felix talked to Changbin a bit; Hyunjin was a close friend of you three, so he’s got the scope of every complaint you’ve had for your foster dad. And, of course, everyone has witnessed firsthand how you guys interacted with each other, which has never been smooth sailing.

Chan understood Changbin from an adult standpoint and suspected that Minho would too. But Felix saw Changbin from a child’s point of view—an emotionally healthy child, to clarify, and perhaps as someone who was projecting his wishes onto you three as well. Felix’s family lived overseas so he couldn’t see them as frequently as he hoped. The three of you reminded him of his siblings from home, and your relationship with Changbin reminded him of his own.

Standing in the face of a past legal guardian trying his best to reconnect with his children after passively harming them made him sympathetic, and seeing Changbin get rejected with such foul manners was upsetting. Felix wanted to say he would have reacted differently and would have been kinder, but he could never understand. He could never stand in your shoes. He could not begin to imagine, so he had no say in this. He only understood the value of having family near when he couldn’t, and he wished you three were nicer.

“We have never dropped by for dinner,” Han said with a faint shrug. “We’re not gonna start doing it now.”

“Oh! You should divide the portions up,” Jisung said as he made a cutting motion with his hands. “You can go days without having to spend money on food!”

“Yeah, you should do that!” you said in agreement. “It helps you eat less too. You’re packing some extra weight!”

Jisung punched your arm with laughter. As he turned around to follow you and Han to the door, he paused in realization and snapped his finger. “Oh, right!” he exclaimed. “Sorry about Jesus!”

Felix pursed his lips as you three walked past the door he held open. He looked at Changbin briefly, who smiled at his pitiful glance. Without further ado, Felix turned and left the cathedral with you.

The door shut behind him loudly, leaving the only trace of light shining on Jeongin, who maintained a respectful minute of silence before he began talking again. Changbin quietly headed to the pew Minho was seated at and sat down at a spot where their knees would not touch.

Changbin kept his gaze forward but leaned down enough to rest his elbows on his thighs. He crossed his fingers, his shoulders exhaling for him. Minho was observing his movements.

“I don’t care what decision you make today,” Changbin whispered, his voice low and firm. He showed the suppression cuff from beneath his interlaced fingers and placed it softly on the space between him and Minho. “But do not go after those three ever again.”

Minho remained silent. He understood Changbin did not warn him for his own good, even though it was clear that you three could take care of yourselves against him just fine. It was not a warning to save him from you three. It was to keep him from the man himself.

“Okay, we are settling down once and for all.�� Jeongin leaned his arms against the pulpit.

“I do apologize for the emergency meeting, but we–well, Seungmin has suddenly thrown us into a complicated mess yesterday when he found a lead on a man associated with the recent, and unfortunately frequent, occurrences of missing person cases. His best guess right now is that all of the reported cases are connected to one person, and a way bigger operation is happening under our nose, under everyone’s noses, whatnot.”

Jeongin stood up straight to give himself an unnecessary pause. He was having difficulty remembering what Seungmin rambled about because he was busy memorizing appropriate answers to the press conference.

“He hasn’t found the person yet, but he’s got a lead on someone associated with them. I have the three dispatched to get them just now, which reminds me–“ He pointed at Chan. “Make sure to check your phone. I don’t know how long the three stooges will take to catch the man, but they will notify you once they do. Get in touch with Hyunjin for more information, but you’re in charge of interrogation at the department building.”

“Wait, wouldn’t you be the better option?” Chan scooted forward, a questioning smirk on his face. “A guy like that wouldn’t just answer questions, and I’m no longer prone to violence.”

“Stop working out. Maybe I’ll believe you!” Jeongin grinned sarcastically before letting his face fall flat. “But no. I’m going to be exhausted after the press conference, and I want to use the rest of my energy to study for my finals!”

Changbin blinked incredulously at Jeongin. “Wait, hold on,” he held a hand up hesitantly, “doesn’t that mean those three also have finals? They should be studying!”

“Yes, but they take the exams together, which would make it easier for them.”

“Their high school transcripts argue otherwise.”

“They enrolled into a prestigious private high school with snobby children whose one-week allowance can hire them a full-time grade A tutor, not because they are smart but because they are strong,” Jeongin said as he rubbed his eyes. With a bang, he dropped his hand on the pulpit's surface and looked at Changbin. “They also got stuck with an adult who joined the military because his grades were terrible, so I don’t blame them for having shitty high school transcripts.”

Chan gave a hearty round of applause. He did not mind it when Changbin shoved off his comforting (demeaning) pat on the shoulder.

“Good? Not good? We are moving on!” Jeongin clapped once. “Now, Lee Minho.”

Minho looked up with one brow raised. He had been listening intently to what everybody was saying, even the useless conversations slapped between valuable information Jeongin was telling. Something about what Jeongin said piqued his interest; it had something to do with what he overheard in prison, but he decided not to say anything yet. He wanted to hear about what Jeongin had planned for him first.

“As I mentioned, the unit is officially involved with a complicated case. We will still be reporting back to the head of the department, but we will also have to report a reasonable amount of information we can gather to the other investigation teams that have been working on this case for a while and have gotten little to no leads on anything,” Jeongin said. “Because of this, I have decided to expand our team by one additional member–“ He nodded at Minho. “This is where he comes in.”

Changbin squinted his eyes, processing the information rather slowly because of how incredibly ridiculous it sounded. He just escorted Minho out of prison, and he knew Jeongin knew that because it was his order. But recruiting a prisoner who has done who-knows-what to get him sentenced to life in prison was outrageous. He could barely accept Chan’s recruitment when it happened, and all Chan did were fraudulent activities.

“To give a brief introduction, we are an independent investigation team operating under the Department of Justice. There are currently nine of us, two of which are an extension of one person–the twins and their host, [Name]. You just tried to copy their power, which, pro tip, do not try again.” Jeongin waved his hand in the air, figuring out the shortest reason that doubled to explain why Minho reacted the way he did when he tried to use his power on Jisung. “A God died and turned into the twins, so each holds half of a full God’s power.”

Minho could not help but breathe out a scoff of acknowledgment.

No wonder you three were kept under watchful eyes. Putting you under the same roof as a selected military agent somehow felt reasonable. But claiming you three only scored within the nation’s top percentile in the power scaling test should cause it to lose all its credibility. The standardized metric was created based on the average output of a regular citizen, which, if disregarding other assets, would mean it was based on only a fraction of one God’s power. Possessing fifty percent of one should break the scoring system.

The nation’s top one percent was a label for people to make sense of the twins’ existence, not an accurate representation of their strength. Jeongin was right to advise Minho against using his copy ability on you again—there was a reason why the twins have to exist. His human body would never be able to hold an entire God. He was lucky to let go when he felt the pressure, and knowing that the power did not immediately kill him was informative.

“Well,” Minho muttered. “I guess they won’t be in too much trouble, after all.”

“What do you mean?” Jeongin asked.

Minho looked at him through the gaps in his hair, his eyes distant but focused. “Did you research who your friend may have gotten a lead on?”

“It’s not my job to do that, but Felix might know something.”

“My cellmate was a talkative guy,” Minho said with a shrug. “I could never get him to shut up. He keeps talking and talking. At some point, when I started to listen to him, I realized he was boasting about something. Events, accomplishments, crimes that were happening outside that he was not directly involved with but somehow felt proud of.”

Felix knocked on the cathedral door and opened it. He kept quiet when he realized Minho was speaking, but the creak of the door was loud enough to cover up Minho’s voice just enough for him to miss what was uttered.

“Wait, hold on,” Changbin held his hand out as a request to pause, “what are you trying to say?”

Minho ignored him. He turned around to look at Felix and asked, “Where did you send the three to?”

Felix looked around with wide eyes. He reached two fingers to his neck and scratched at the spot where he could feel his palpitating vein. “Huh? I’m–what’s going on?”

“Answer the question, Felix,” Changbin demanded.

“Seungmin said there was an entrance in the MH market kept in one of the stalls that led directly underground. It’s an elaborate system, and there is no map, so he told me to tell them to sniff out a guy who looks like he’s a big deal and invite him for an interrogation.”

The Magic Hub market—just its name was lousy news enough for Changbin because of its notorious reputation, not to mention the newfound knowledge of it having a renovated underground sewage system that flew entirely off the radar. Changbin shook his head. He never understood what Seungmin was planning, but he should have been the one to go there, not you three. Not even for what Jeongin claimed to be damage control for what Han did at the metro station last week.

“You sent two kids and their fragile lifeline to invite a branch head of a long-standing crime syndicate to an interrogation that will expose their operation,” Minho spoke monotonously.

“Which means?” Jeongin prompted.

“Which means?” Minho repeated with strong emphasis on each word. The corner of his eye twitched. “You can’t put two and two together, dipshit?”

“Which means bad news,” Chan said, making it known that he was still present. His eyes were unreadable, and his movement seemed fidgety. He moved up his seat so he could stand near Minho. “A crime syndicate… I think I know who he’s talking about.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “They may be the same people who hired me to pose as a high school teacher so I can steal the twins, so whoever those three are going to, they’re not gonna be fighting strangers.”

Chan got off the wrong foot with all of you, especially with the twins. Cozying up to you and helping you through being bullied in your new school while you were placed in suppression cuffs was a ploy to slap a thief’s tool onto the twins. Alas, he should have thought it through better than agreeing to steal powers with a mind of their own. The twins broke out of the thief’s box and attempted to kill Chan, but eventually, they only turned him into the faculty. The only reason why he was still alive now was because he was prosecuted and kept safe in prison.

If he was roaming free, failing a job could only mean death. But that past mattered not at the moment.

“Minho is right. They’re fighting people who had years to gather information and plan for what they are capable of,” Chan said. “They haven’t initiated anything again after I failed, though.”

“Sending them to their doorstep is suicide,” Minho said. “Do you even know who the head of the branch is?”

“You’ve got something bad to say,” Jeongin said.

“I fucking do. Get used to it if you want to recruit me as a team member,” Minho said with a smirk. “Does any of you read the news?”

“Not my favorite pastime,” Changbin replied.

Felix raised his hand timidly. He was trying to shake off the feeling that he had done something wrong even when he was only following orders. “I do.”

“We are not the only ones going after this organization. A few months ago, there was news about a special agent possessing power from the God of Ruination.” Minho sniffed when he saw the recognition on Felix’s face. “You know.”

“I know a little, yes. They can kill anything or anyone as long as they sacrifice something in return, and whatever they sacrifice has to be of equal value to what they are killing. We would have recruited them if they weren’t already working for an agency,” Felix said. “They were put on emergency leave after a failed mission. I think they almost died just to end up missing their target by a mark.”

Felix heaved a deep sigh, trying to recall precisely what he had read about on the news. He couldn’t be sure what he said because there had been rumors about the news broadcast being misguided to report false information. People were talking about the case on various discussion forums when it happened because of how unbelievable the prosecution process was. But it wasn’t the sentencing that received a skeptical outcry. It was the man who was prosecuted. The man was a nobody. Not an underdog, just a nobody. The only way he could be charged for almost killing a special agent was when he was covering for someone else, someone important.

“My cellmate who kept talking was the one who got framed for what happened to that agent,” Minho said. “He was covering for his boss, the man who survived a power that was supposed to be able to kill anyone.” He shifted his weight against the hard chair and side-eyed Changbin. “Now your kids are going after him.”

“I hate to say this, but if they’ve made plans to kidnap the twins before, they are not gonna take this second chance for granted,” Minho added as he leaned against the back of the pew. He closed his eyes and hummed solemnly. “Sending a powerless con artist to interrogate the man alone is also suicide, by the way. I would volunteer, but this unit feels like a mess, so I’m not sure about working with you people.”

“Yang Jeongin!”

Changbin was right. It should have been him. He should have gotten the job, or at least he should have been asked to tag along as backup. Sharply, he turned to glare at Jeongin, who was still cluelessly processing the newfound information. Jeongin caught his rejecting eyes and flinched in response. An anger burning inside Changbin was filled with hatred, blame, and guilt.

Jeongin should have taken his role seriously. He would not have dispatched you three to a madman if he did. He and Seungmin should have asked for a second opinion regarding his decisions. Ignorant, busy young adults taking up the responsibility for others’ livelihood? This should have never happened. But how could any of them possibly anticipate this turn of events? Not one person questioned this. Not Jeongin, Seungmin, Felix, Hyunjin, and definitely not you three, who have always come home unscathed. Jeongin sincerely thought this wouldn’t be a problem and was the best chance to cover up the metro station damage.

Jeongin would never send his friends to die on purpose. This was a genuine mistake.

Changbin sighed. He couldn’t even be angry in peace. Rubbing his wrist, he stared at the floor to concentrate on the self-induced debate in his head. He spared not another glance at anyone when he straightened himself and walked out of the cathedral. Minho followed Changbin’s back with his eyes, having held himself back from making any comments from the mere intimidating sound of Changbin’s steps.

Felix clenched his jaw to stop his teeth from clattering. He only realized his fingers displayed light tremors when he hastily took his phone out of his jean pocket. Ignoring the shaky screen, he immediately shot you multiple texts to poorly explain the situation and to urge you and the twins to turn around. He looked up between texts, witnessing Jeongin’s stable state by the pulpit, and licked his lower lip.

“It’s not your fault, Jeongin,” Chan said, his steps toward the boy tentative.

“Nobody can be faulted here because nothing will happen to them!” Felix managed out with forced laughter. “No mistakes were made!”

“Look, I’m sorry that this is all very sudden, but keep your thoughts in your head. Okay?” Chan requested lowly after he neared Jeongin. “You know what happens when you say things out loud.”

Jeongin knew, which made it all the more suffocating for him. Ever since growing up, any negative thoughts—his worries, anger, and anxiety—were pushed to the back corner of his mind because of his gifted verbal influence. He could control his power of persuasion for the most part, but negative feelings were often unpredictable due to their robust nature. If he says it out loud and means it, it will happen. If he talked about a worrisome future, it would turn out exactly as he worried it to be. Even if he was desperately willing to talk about his feelings, he could not.

Do not say he made a mistake. Do not say he was worried. Do not say he should have made a better decision. Do not say someone should help, just in case. Do not say anything. He might have sent his friends on a suicide mission, and he cannot speak about his feelings.

“Minho.” Say nothing of it. “We will not be able to reduce your sentence, but if you work for us, you get out of prison. Not free, but out of it, nonetheless.”

Minho has nothing snarky to say to Jeongin. Even though the team felt unorganized, he thought anything would be better than behind bars, so he only nodded. “Sure.”

Jeongin looked ahead at the cathedral, his eyes grazing past Felix.

Do not say anything.

Jisung scrunched his nose up and swung his hand before his face to waft off the sewage smell. He fidgeted about aimlessly; tapping his feet impatiently against the floor, ruffling his hair and wiping the oil off the bridge of his nose, rolling his hoodie sleeves up because his skin felt suffocated and rolling them back down immediately because he hated the thought of sewage air hitting against his skin. He let out a frustrated yell when Han closed the manhole.

“Jeongin did this on purpose! He wants us smelling like sewage rats!” Jisung complained. “When we’re done with this, the first thing I’m doing when I see him is punch his teeth in!”

“I don’t think Jeongin even knows where he is sending us to,” you pointed out as you pinched Jisung’s nose to urge him to simply stop smelling the area. You held on despite his playful protests. “I bet Seungmin had a say in this decision.”

“I’ll punch him too!” Jisung said, his voice coming out nasally. When he finally got your fingers off his nose, he punched the air with his fists and yelled, “It smells disgusting down here!”

Han groaned in annoyance at the fit his brother was throwing. The way Jisung’s whiny voice echoed off the spacious tunnels made him even harder to ignore. “Stop whining,” he said. “The sooner we find the man, the sooner we can get out of here.”

“Like I don’t know that,” Jisung slurred in a high-pitched voice. He pulled a face by frowning with exaggeration. “Felix gave us nothing to work with!”

“I’m sure Seungmin will send us something once he finds more information,” Han suggested doubtfully.

“There’s no service down here. I checked,” Jisung said with a pat on his pocket. “Which probably means that someone has been doing some tinkering down here.”

“Felix mentioned that this is related to the recent missing cases, right?” you said with crossed arms as you peeked over a corner to find a never-ending tunnel identical to the ones you could see from every direction. You looked down at your feet briefly, noticing the dark spots on your white shoes and letting your eyes trail along the floor, then you looked back up at the twins. “Come here, you guys.”

“He did say that, but I’m gonna bet on it being a speculation,” Han murmured as he leaned over your head to see what you were looking at. “Maybe all the cases are associated with this man, but saying this man is kidnapping all these people under the order of someone with a higher authority feels like a stretch to me. It could just be one maniac doing all of this on his own.”

“Why are we thinking so much about it? Let them do all the thinking. We can just do the punching,” Jisung said with a shrug.

“Don’t say ‘we,’ you clearly aren’t thinking about anything,” Han joked lowly.

“Actually, I was thinking about something. I was thinking about a way to get us out of here quicker.” Jisung slapped the back of Han’s head and continued to do so a few more times when Han complained with low, strangled noises paired with a glare that Jisung did not find threatening. “We should blow holes through the walls. He has got to be in here somewhere.”

You furrowed your brows in disagreement. “The market will collapse.”

“I said blow holes through the tunnel walls, not open a gaping hole on the roof,” Jisung clarified as-a-matter-of-factly.

“The tunnel walls are connected to the roof,” you waved your arms around, “which means one mistake and the whole market collapse on us!”

“Then let’s not make any mistake.” Jisung shrugged.

“Was that what Han thought when he blew up the metro rails?”

Han let his jaw drop from the side. He was paying mild attention to the back-and-forth between you and Jisung.

If he has to listen to you two argue about unimportant things, he would have to grant ownership of his hearing to you both. He got good at tuning you out and minding his business. He could do that exceptionally at home, where despite the close vicinity you three were bound to be in, ignoring you two was an ability indissoluble. But here, in the underground sewage system, he had nothing to do but listen. Not once has he chimed in, yet somehow he was roped into the conversation.

“That was uncalled for,” Han said, a hand pressed firmly over his chest.

“I’m sorry, Han, but–“ You sighed. “You did cause a lot of collateral damage for someone who could be no more than a petty thief.”

“He wouldn’t be on the BOLO list if people thought he was just stealing invaluable things,” Han argued.

“No, I think people will complain about anything when they realize that someone is listening,” Jisung said softly, his hair bouncing with his faint nods. “Give them an inch, and they’ll take a mile. The inch almost blew them up in a metro train–“ He made an explosive sound effect and mimicked a bomb exploding with his hands. “They’ll still take the mile!”

“Don’t say they should have died, even to make a point,” Han cut his twin off with a grimace.

“I’m not heartless. I wasn’t going to.” Jisung shrugged. “I was just thinking about it.”

You audibly gagged at Jisung’s response.

You never forget how cruel Jisung could be, even though he was superior to Han in terms of being empathetic. People always found him more approachable; he was outgoing, friendly, and excellent at accurately vocalizing other people’s feelings for them. You formed the theory that Jisung seemed to have an innate ability to put himself in others’ shoes due to his half of the power leaning towards a brighter, more divine magic. If only he acted on those emotional skills, then some things he says and does would be less outrageous.

“You are–” You paused to sigh, not looking at Jisung. “Unbelievable.”

“I actually don’t take that as a compliment from you.”

“Good, I wasn’t being positive,” you mindlessly said as you scooted closer to the corner. You beckoned the two to stay close to you and pointed down the tunnel. “There is less water on the ground going that way.”

“Felix said this sewage system got turned into an elaborate hideout, right?” you continued as you turned around to face the twins. “Unless that guy has a thing for smelling rotten feet, wherever in this place he decided to turn into some criminal laboratory, he will probably drain out the water.”

“I bet he just likes sewage smell,” Jisung sneered under his breath.

Han raised his brows in acknowledgment of what you said. It would make sense, although he doubted how presentable a criminal hideout has to be. But seeing the expected level of water in this place, not draining them would make it a hassle for anyone to navigate, so it made sense to get rid of the water if one wanted to turn this place remotely into a secret working spot.

“So we follow dry grounds.” Han nodded.

“It’s just an assumption, but it’s an objective,” you said. “We can go from there.”

Jisung already moved ahead of you both, jogging ahead to an intersection to look for a tunnel with lesser water on the ground. His head whipped around in all four directions before he hollered with his arm pointed outward. You and Han followed his lead without question as the plan was straightforward, and Han kept note of possible tunnel directions you three could take that also had sewage water drained out for future backtracking.

At some point, when the water was drained to leave only puddles on the floor, Jisung hopped off the restricting side road and ran about freely. You didn’t say much about the sewage water he carelessly splashed against his shoes and ankle socks when he stomped on the water, but you planned to make exaggerated sighs around the apartment when you do end up cleaning the shoes for him.

“I feel like we’re going around in circles,” you said after you stopped walking.

Jisung pursed his lips into a frown that could double as a comedic smile. “How would you know? Everywhere looks the same. We could be making progress.”

“Walking isn’t progress, Jisung,” you heaved out.

“Well…,” he played with his fingers, “what if I just blow one small hole in one of these walls?”

He has already decided that he would. Asking you for permission was a performative courtesy. He ignored your many protests with a smile and continuous reassurance that he wouldn’t mess things up like last time. Then he argued that the infrastructure damage could not be too severe if all he did was destroy one wall and that it didn’t make sense for the entire tunnel system to collapse just because one wall had fallen. As he placed his hand on the wall, he further joked about how hilarious it would be if he blew a hole and people were waiting on the other side.

“Jisung!”

An explosion muffled your voice, then by the falling of concrete and debris. Jisung uncovered his face and fanned his hand around to wave away the fog. His eyes rolled upward in anticipation, and when nothing else terrible happened, he pumped his fist silently to celebrate. He turned around to face you and Han, more than ready to boast about how he was right all along, and you should have let him blow this place up since the beginning, but he paused when he saw you both staring ahead at the broken wall.

There were people on the other side, just not waiting. Over on the other side of the wall stood two men, just enough players for the card game you saw abandoned on the foldable square table propped around the corner. They were both staring at you, which gave you the indication that Jisung and Han were invisible to them; there were no cues for Jisung to appear, and Han likely reacted before the explosion to conceal himself.

“Oh, hello.” you greeted with widened eyes and a forced giggle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

They looked at you skeptically, but neither gave off a feeling of hostility. Judging by their attire and choice of activity to pass the time, they were likely throwaways working under this branch of the criminal organization. You thought you could test your luck with getting information out of them; nothing in detail, just some information on where their boss was located within this elaborate sewage system. But that may risk you not only getting no valuable intel from them but also being exposed that you were up to no good. Besides, there could be more groups stationed all over this place. Getting exposed would be a hassle.

“Um…,” you kicked your feet and pointed a finger upward, “I fell down here and got lost. Do you mind showing me the way out?”

Jisung tilted his head as scoffs of disagreement shoved past his lips. He thought you would have a better plan, such as straightforwardly asking for directions to the big man. If you were afraid of suspicion, you could have easily pretended to be a foreign collaborator recently arriving in the country, given that a criminal operation was happening. There was no way these lackeys would know every person their boss kept in contact with and how everything operates, so all you really needed was a confident act, which you did not deliver.

“How did you get out of your suppression cuff?”

You rubbed the back of your neck and stared ahead at the man who spoke. “What?”

“You, go check on the other ones, see if any of them escaped.” He turned around and gestured to his colleague, who hurriedly scurried away. He clicked his tongue when his attention was back on you. “You’re a sneaky one. I don’t remember seeing your face when you lot got dropped here. I’m not sure what you’re planning, but trust me when I say things will go much easier if you just behave.”

You stumbled back a few steps once the realization hit that he may be discussing the missing cases you’ve been reading about on the news.

Seungmin’s speculation and what he just told you was a coincidence good enough for you to believe in your computer nerd of a friend. If it was true, there were a group of kidnappees here waiting to be dealt with—was it human trafficking? It was the thing you could think of. But would trafficking elders nearing their deathbeds be worth anything in this industry? That was a peculiar deviation from what you always hear about. Yet, why else would someone kidnap groups of people? It wasn’t a case of infatuation! Was it to start a cult? There were people down here. Some of them may be the missing ones!

The subtlety of your anxiety did not go unnoticed. Jisung observed the light tremors in your delayed response rate, your brain halting to constant stops as unfortunate thoughts popped into your head. You three have been at this job for two years already, which made dealing with terrible people a common occurrence. But, usually, by the time you three were assigned to catch someone, there was already ample information on who they were and what they had done. This case was on a much larger scale than you were used to. Coming face-to-face with it happening caught you off guard.

You squealed when you felt touched, your thoughts coming to a halt.

“Focus,” Han whispered into your ear as he gently pushed at the small of your back. “Follow him. He might lead us somewhere.”

You curtly nodded without peeling your eyes off the men standing before you. You decided not to move an inch, heeding the advice to behave. You doubted they would be taking you to see their boss, but you figured if you were thrown somewhere with the rest of those who were kidnapped, you could at least break them out of this place so you could have something to report back to the team.

Or at least you thought you could. Your heart rate picked up when you saw the gleaming suppression cuff the man hesitantly took out of his pocket. He looked behind him at his colleagues as if to ask for advice, weighing the cuff in his hand.

You had first-hand experience during high school when you were put on suppression cuffs as punishment for Han’s use of excessive force against a student on the first day. You remembered vividly how horrible the experience was.

Most people described the effect of the suppression cuff as annoying. People never enjoyed having a constant taken away. But the results were exceptionally terrible to you because they went beyond merely restricting your use of powers.

Jisung and Han would be temporarily erased from existence when you put on suppression cuffs; the keyword was that there were two—one for Jisung and one for Han. The cuffs themselves were not invented to extract a toll on people. However, Jisung and Han were born as an extension of you. While not developed in the same womb (the twins began as infants), the unknown God split and reattached the umbilical cord between you and the twins as a symbol of bodily and soulful attachment. The twins’ health and strength positively correlate with yours; if both twins die, you die with them.

You three were born to be together, always and forever.

Losing any of one you was the equivalent of losing a limb, an organ, a part of yourself. Suppressing their existence creates not only emotional turmoil but also gradual physiological deterioration that persists just before the point of death.

Besides those side effects, this was not the time for the twins to be put on restrictions. Additional to being an extension of yourself, the twins were your source of power. The unknown God gave all of its power for you to use; the only reason why you could not personally use it was that a human body was too fragile, hence the birth of the twins. Without them, you were as good as being powerless, which was no good at all in this context.

Your immediate response of drawing back earned you an impatient frown. He persisted, and you would admire his effort not to resort to drastic measures if you weren’t feeling so anxious. He was probably expecting you to use your power, which, if he assumed was how you blew up a hole in the wall, was something he had to look out for. However, as his patience wore thin after it was made abundantly clear that you would not cooperate, he raised his arm slowly as if charging up, then instead of hitting you as you expected, he clamped it around your wrist.

His palm was scorching hot. It was the same sensation as when you accidentally bumped your forearm against the oven rack while taking out the tray of cookies you were baking with Hyunjin at his home, except you weren’t allowed to flinch away this time. You gasped in pain, your fingers croaking as you tried to snatch your hand away from his grip. The burn on his palm was quick to fade when the man spared a glance behind your shoulders between putting the cuff on you, and immediately he saw Jisung and Han hovering over your now shrunken figure.

“Twin–twins.” he stuttered under his breath, elements of recognition slowly trickling into his brain. He released you so he could take a few strides backward, and his eyes uncontrollably followed Jisung’s hand that reached to cradle your burnt skin.

“[Name], this is a second-degree burn,” Jisung said after examining the injury.

“I know,” you groaned out.

“Okay,” he said, his voice calm as a motionless pond. He disregarded the attitude you gave him. “So let me take it. I can endure it better than you. Also, if we’re gonna fight, we need you in tip-top shape. Helps me heal faster than usual too.”

You pursed your lips together. You always hated this.

Han was out of the question regarding any abilities that could aid others; the foundation of his powers was, for lack of a better word, self-centeredness. Anything good that he can do, such as healing, he can only use it on himself. Jisung, on the other hand, can only heal others. But he must do it as a self-sacrifice, an angelic symbolism. He has to take the pain from others. Jisung’s self-healing ability fared much worse than Han's but arguably better than humans, meaning the pain would linger if not treated properly. Still, he would eventually return to his original shape.

Since Jisung has impressive physical durability, he never minded taking pain from you and, occasionally, his friends. He has been assigned the role of a healer since you were grown enough to start scraping your knees through reckless chasing. You did not bother with this gentle exchange until high school, specifically when you were put on suppression cuffs and bullied without the twins’ presence. It had been an eye-opening experience for you in the worst way possible.

Disregarding the bullying (which vaguely tired down when Hyunjin befriended you), what your schoolmates said to be horrible and insensitive to you was right. You were useless without them. You have not learned to stand up for yourself because you never had to. You only knew how to be friendly, kind, and agreeable so your peers would stop treating you with high caution. You molded yourself after the desire to be social and make friends, and your privilege was that you never had to worry about being in danger because you always had the twins around. They made you soft. They made you easy to hurt.

The suppression cuffs were taken off after school every day. For the earlier days of the punishment week, Jisung would sit by you on the floor of your shared bedroom and take the bruises from your body. Colliding with the metal lockers, pushed to the brick wall, being shoved and kicked around—nothing on the face for the teachers to notice, everything under clothing to be hidden from plain sight. Even if the teachers knew, you doubted anyone would do anything anyway. You three already knew you were in the private school the same way an animal in the zoo was placed on a stage to perform. You were there to be watched, first and foremost, not to receive an education.

You figured you should handle it on your own. You wanted to tank it as proof to yourself, more than anyone else, that you do not have to rely on the twins for everything. You stopped letting Jisung heal you and requested that they leave the students alone once punishment week was over. You needed to prove yourself to be useful and durable. You didn’t ‘need your brothers to do everything for you!’ Jisung respected your wishes. But that was after you gave him a week-long silent treatment after he decided to heal you during your sleep without permission.

“How’s their arm?” Han asked as he sneaked a peek at your injury. The developing burn was gone and transferred to a reddening spot on Jisung’s skin. You gave in due to the circumstance; if this had happened at home, you would have persisted in suffering through it. Han did not think much of it. He was glad that you wouldn’t be in pain anymore.

Jisung had rolled up his sleeve to give the injury air. The stinging pain barely bothered him. As you two approached Han, he ushered you behind him subtly and kept a firm grip on your hand in case of emergency. Looking ahead to find the men precisely where they were before he stopped paying attention, he lightly chuckled and shook his finger in their direction. “What’s going on? Is he frozen?”

“Yeah. He hasn’t moved,” Han replied.

“I think he recognized us,” you said as you pushed your head between their arms to get a better look at the men. “He did call you two twins.”

“That’s because we are,” Han said with a deadpan. You clicked your tongue and slapped his back just strong enough to make him flinch away with a playful smirk.

"It doesn't seem like he’s going to do anything. Not to you two, at least," you clarified what you meant. "What if we ask him where his boss is?”

“He's not going to sell his people out like that. Let alone the head of an organization!" Han exclaimed in a whisper, with a disbelieving huff flying out his mouth a beat after the words fell that you thought were unnecessary.

Jisung hummed with a tilt of his head. He observed the three men standing with their guard up but hadn't moved an inch still. There wasn't much to be analyzed—plain clothes, a table with a card game, one suppression cuff, a fire-type ability, and someone who left to check on the kidnappees. Jisung thought the other person might have run off to notify others of intruders, but as far as he knew, they only saw you and likely did not process you as a threat.

"He might if we give him a reason to," he muttered as he took the initiative to approach the group of lackeys.

The man glanced down at Jisung's burnt skin and up at his calm face. It was made clear that scorching heat would not bother Jisung. He didn't think it would anyway if the rumors about the twins he heard were true. It was moving like the rumors were accurate, which would pose a huge problem. This was not about him losing miserably at a match with the twins. That part has been crystal clear since the news released their power scale scores to the public. This was about the deliberate operation to steal the twins again, which had been ordered to jump into action at any given chance they could get.

A lot has changed since the first theft operation to take the twins, which Chan was involved in. It had been a disaster. The gadget—The Steal Box—used to host stolen powers broke open shortly after the twins were stuffed inside the box. At that time, the lesson learned was that stealing power in the form of individuals capable of making decisions is inefficient because it will escape and return to its owner. An additional lesson learned was that the thieving gadget may have broken due to its inadequacy in storing a lot of energy at once. Like suppression cuffs, the Steal Box breaks when used on the twins directly.

The renewed operation plan changed accordingly to what went wrong in the first one. The Steal Box was modified to be stronger than the one approved by the government and marketed to the public. But, most importantly, seconds after getting the twins inside the box, someone has to put you on two suppression cuffs to prevent them from breaking out. You would be released from the cuffs when the boss saw fit to do so, but it was never revealed what the desired circumstance to do that was. There was no need for anyone to know what the head of the branch wanted with the twins. The only thing anybody has to know was that the plan starts at any given chance, which was now.

"You want to meet the boss?”

Jisung pursed his lips into a downward smile and nodded. "Yeah. Do you know where he is?"

“For what?”

You pushed past the twins so you could talk to the man. You leveled him with a stare as you hid your arms behind your back. “Just to talk.”

“Just to talk?” he mimicked your higher-pitched, youthful voice, then he kept a sneer on his face that you weren’t sure came from a general disregard people have for the young, or a personal grudge. “Government agents coming all the way down here to a criminal hideout is not going to be here just to talk. What do you guys want?”

“You have some nerve threatening us,” Han said.

“I’m not threatening you. I’m being an asshole. You wouldn’t know someone is being a bitch if they did it to your face.”

You pursed your lips to hold back a chuckle that Jisung heartily released from his chest. There was no distinction between threatening someone and being an asshole. It was funny because Jeongin said something similar before sending you three off to the sewage system, and perhaps the man spoke some truth about how Han has a hard time telling if people were being genuinely mean. Han based a lot of others’ intentions and actions on his feelings—if he was offended, then they must be horrible; if he wasn’t offended, then they must be neutral. The kick was that he was primarily undramatic about things.

“We’re here because we suspect that your boss has something to do with the recent missing cases,” you clarified before pointing a finger toward the direction his colleague had run off to minutes ago. “Which makes it interesting that you told your friend to check on the kidnappees.”

“I’m just doing my job.”

“It’s a shitty job!” Jisung commented with a boastful smile as if he had done something heroic by verbalizing how bad holding innocent people hostage is. He pulled back his head and grimaced when you gave him a nod of pitiful approval.

“I know you are doing your job, which is why I strongly advise you to take us to your boss,” you said with a snap of your fingers. “Don’t tank a fall for someone who doesn’t care about you. It’s not a noble thing to do.”

Your heart thumped as you watched the hesitant man intently. He kept the silence in the air for a minute too long that Jisung started to cross his arms and tap his feet. The noise of his sneaker beating the floor echoed through the tunnel, a constant noise that made the man roll his eyes and break out of his trance. He dropped his hands to his side before reaching for his phone. You said nothing when he tapped briefly on the blackened screen. The man looked up after shoving the phone back in its original place.

“Follow me.”

You raised your brows, but the facial change was unnoticeable. You didn’t want anyone to notice your disbelief.

This was going too smoothly, to a point where it felt against your favor. Even though most missions have gone easy for you three because of the blatant power disparity, saved for the occasional (as Hyunjin loved to say) collateral damage, this was going far too well. Desperate people were often persistent, even in the face of utter doom. Most criminals you three have met would push through for a fleeting chance, a minor mishap, a God-given opportunity to fight back or to run. Once they get it, they will latch onto it until you rip it out of their bloody hands.

Immediately giving up and seeing you to where you needed to go was suspicious, even if it felt like you talked the man into giving up. Perhaps he was stalling when he made those thoughtful faces to trick you into believing that you were guiding his decisions, and he had an alternative plan all along that he couldn’t have you suspecting of. You brainstormed the different ways this scenario could unfold as you walked through the spacious tunnels, and there were many ways this could go.

One, you three were being led into a trap, and instead of notifying their boss of your arrival, they called for backup. Two, you were escorted to meet the big man himself, and you strike a fraudulent deal to trick him into following you to the department headquarters. Three, instead of him taking the deal, he chose not to cooperate, then you must forcefully bring him back to the department headquarters. Four, you three were tricked into walking in circles for as long as it would take for the boss to arrive after being notified of your presence, and you were set up to be ambushed.

"I have a bad feeling about this," you whispered.

"You always have a bad feeling," Jisung muttered nonchalantly, his focus maintained on keeping his walking straight for his childish satisfaction. "You had a bad feeling during our statistics exam too, and guess what?”

"We got that question wrong," Han said before Jisung could continue.

“What? We did?” Jisung exclaimed to himself as he threw his arms up in defeat. They dropped to his side loosely, bouncing and bumping off his torso. He seemed genuinely disappointed, which you figured he would be since he was the one who made up the answer. But, just as you were about to say something comforting, Jisung shrugged and pointed a finger at you and Han. "For the record, we didn't get it wrong. The boy sitting next to us did. The only wrong we did–I did! Was being too trusting!"

"You cheated?”

"We." Jisung swung his hands in a circular motion to gesture between all three of you. "We cheated."

"Jisung, why would you do that?" you asked exasperatedly. "What if the professors find out? They're going to force me back on the cuffs again during tests, and you know I won't do well when that happens!”

"Yeah, I know, but get this," Jisung held up his hands in mock surrender and a gesture of tranquility, "they didn't find out.”

"That's why the question is hypothetical," Han said immediately. "Dumb shit.”

Jisung was the last person to stop walking. Today was not going well for him! He prided himself in being optimistic and cheerful, albeit his optimism often resided in violent situations he liked to suggest. He never thought himself to be pissy (he was), but you two were getting on his last nerve! Did he do something to be ganged up on like this? He hasn’t consciously stolen leftovers in a while; he kept the bathroom clean after using it, and, well, he was loud when he was playing video games but who wasn’t? If he did something annoying, he couldn’t realize it, so why was he getting attitudes left and right?

Without realizing it, you three have stopped in your tracks to have this conversation, to have an abrupt siblings' quarrel.

"Why are you both against me today!" Jisung raised his voice after stuttering out incoherent noises.

"That's your interpretation of what we're doing," you said.

"That's your interpretation of what we're–" Jisung yapped about in a tone that exaggeratedly mimicked yours, but he was cut short when you reached out and collided your fist to his chest, punching him hard enough to stumble. Jisung glared at you with a surprised gasp he let out. When he regained his balance, he immediately retaliated by slapping you. “What the hell!”

“Don’t fucking hit me!” Shocked, but not enough to be taken back wholly by Jisung’s action, you hissed out as you advanced toward him with your arms outstretched.

Jisung readied himself, yet his only resort was to clumsily block your punches once your arms began thrashing about near his head and shoulders. You slapped the back of his head, punched his cheek off to the side where the jaw met, pulled his hair, and hit the back of his neck once you got his head to bow toward your direction. He continuously let out yells of protest, beyond irritated, as he haphazardly threw his hands around to either block or attack you. Whatever he could manage while being forced to look at the floor would do. When his fingers felt even a whiff of your hair, he latched onto it and pulled, turning the tables around.

“Gosh, you both,” Han muttered before the short string of profanity targeted toward calling you two a waste of space, childish, annoying, and aggressive all in one sentence. He marched over with the intention of pulling you two apart, but when Jisung put you in a headlock and tugged you around to make you lose your balance, Han got hit on the way, causing Jisung to direct the hostility toward him.

“Han, get out of the way!”

Like spikes unleashing, the hair on Han’s neck stood. Not only was this brawl unnecessary, but it was also dangerous. It seemed that you and Jisung had forgotten you were stooped in the middle of an underground sewage system refurbished to become a criminal hideout. Letting your guard down to resolve a quarrel with violence was the last thing to focus on. Han wasn’t even part of this brawl. He never said anything! How could Jisung yell at him like that? He cracked his knuckles and pursed his lips together, deciding he would ultimately join the sibling brawl anyway. But, as he took the first step toward you both, he paused.

The standing of his hair wasn’t from Jisung’s misplaced annoyance. There was something else in the atmosphere. Not cold, not hot, just something, someone.

A bolt of yellow caught the corner of Han’s eyes. He snapped his head upward to find it scraping past his peripheral vision and going down a path toward where you and Jisung were still grappling with each other. Cursing aloud, Han lunged his body toward you both, his hands stretched to his side. He pushed both of you out of the way of the bolt of lightning, causing it to hit and blow a small hole through the ground. Jisung let go of you immediately at the commotion, but he kept a hand near the base of your neck while you turned to look at where the noise came from.

The attack did not cease after its failed first attempt. Han’s brows were furrowed when he briefly saw a man standing near the end of the tunnel. Seconds after that was another bolt of lightning coming your way, which Han managed to deter at the cost of his arm. It seemed that the bolt pierced through his upper arm, through the bone, and took his arm with it. You flinched at the blood that splattered on your face while Han looked over and grimaced at his torn sleeve. The immense pain that came with having a limb torn off vanished when his arm regenerated within a blink of an eye; bones, vessels, flesh, skin, and all those components stretching out through what was left of his arm.

“Well,” Jisung mused, almost comedically, “that was something.”

“I’ve never actually seen you regenerate a whole arm before,” you commented as you turned away from Han. You sucked in a deep breath and harshly knocked on your chest to reduce the urge to puke. “That was disgusting.”

“That doesn’t make me feel good, [Name],” Han said with a frown.

“I would hope it doesn’t. You just got your arm torn off–“ You held up a hand to pause before turning around. You whimpered upon seeing the fallen arm on the floor and hit Jisung’s shoulder. “Oh no, your arm is still there! It’s still there!”

“How screwed do you think we will be if we bring it back and put it in Changbin’s room?” Jisung suggested then, snickering with a few shimmers of his shoulders.

Han laughed with him, giving him an approving bump on the side. “He’ll fuck you up.”

It was clear as day that the three of you were prone to be absorbed in your world, and he could not imagine there was a reason why you shouldn’t develop a lack of care for your surroundings. Nothing painstakingly dangerous has ever happened to you three. Even when a threat is presented to you, it would be reduced to child’s play at the twins’ feet, like a powerless to a powered, a powered to a God.

But there was also no doubt that a plan years in the making was finally set in motion, and he could not afford to fail. The three of you were an asset, a valuable offering to a God capable of sharing more of its magic; there was nothing like getting on a God’s good side by serving them the head of their brothers and sisters.

“Why is everyone frozen today?” you asked under your breath when you caught sight of the man who amputated Han’s arm.

He was of average height and well-built, which you could tell from the short-sleeve shirt barely fitting his torso. One side of the sleeves was ripped off to accommodate his glowing arm. Judging by the shape and the smokey smell that erupted from the two bolts thrown at you three just then, it seemed the glow came from electricity. The man has one arm made out of pure electricity strong enough to rival the lightning current; it was a gift from one of the most popular Gods in ancient and modern days, but more informatively, he may have received a power portion more significant than usual.

You let your gaze linger on him. He must be the guy Seungmin wanted you to catch. He seemed like a big deal.

“That’s a cool arm,” Jisung gawked quietly at first. Then he stuck his head out between you and Han to shout directly at the menacing stranger. “Hey! Cool arm!”

You shoved his face back with alert. “Jisung, stop!” you hissed, to which he responded with a frustrated puff of air out his nose and a few slaps at your arm.

Han inwardly condemned you two for being unable to keep still for a second while keeping his main focus elsewhere. He tilted his head as he scanned the strange newcomer thoroughly. His eyes flashed with horrific fragments before he scoffed, already making up his mind on how he felt about him. “He cut off his original arm to make this artificial one,” Han said. “I can hardly see how that’s worth the pain.”

Jisung held down a chuckle. He doubted Han would understand anything about losing a limp anyway. “You’re just jealous because you will never get a lightning arm.”

“No, Han has a point.” You shook your head after a moment of thought. “You can never hold anything with the other arm. You’ll end up frying your surroundings.”

“Oh, my bad.” Jisung rolled his eyes. “I forgot you two are banning together to go against me today.”

You clicked your tongue and shoved Jisung’s hand off your neck. Han rolled his eyes in silence, but he made a point to exaggerate his movement so that Jisung knew how annoyed he was with such a baseless accusation. Watching your attention spans collectively last no more than a few seconds was humiliating and unsurprising. The man wondered if it was the product of being a young adult drowned in a world of continuous reinforcement or if you three genuinely have no sense of danger and care for your well-being.

Regardless, your lack of focus would work in his favor.

“Remember our main goal.” Raising his electric arm, the man snapped his finger with a dead stare on your face. “The host.”

The illusional cloak unknowingly draped over your sight plopped from your eyes, and before you could process it, the tunnel was filled with people. Strangers surrounded you with one goal in mind: steal the twins. A heavy sigh released beneath your chest. This was an ambush. You were right to be alerted.

“I told you I had a bad feeling about this,” you whispered.

Jisung didn’t spare a glance at you as he unconsciously took a step forward, blocking your figure behind him. What you said was both a jab at his previous reaction and a statement on the urgency of the current situation, but he could not focus on talking back. He fixed his rolled-up hoodie sleeve to ensure it stayed away from the burnt area and subtly popped his wrist.

“We’re getting the big guy there, right?” Han asked for clarification, his arms dropped to his side and his new wrist rotating so he could get used to the muscles and joints.

“Most likely,” you replied. “We should deal with everyone else first. It’s better not to be distracted.”

Han laughed lowly. “We’re a little outnumbered.”

“We are,” Jisung mused with the tip of his tongue swiping across the corner of his lower lip. “How far can we go, [Name]?”

“Huh?” You shook your head as a confused smile grew.

Jisung faced ahead, his hands jittery as a sign of him being trigger-happy. But he waited for your response because he understood the repercussions of him possibly killing a few people along the way. He didn’t care much about the deaths he put on his hands, but he knew Jeongin sent you here as a form of damage control—if you catch a terrible person, people will more or less forgive you for destroying public infrastructures and causing a few accidental near-death experiences. If people don’t, at least it couldn’t be argued that they did something useful. He didn’t want to block those intended results into the mud because he decided to stop a few hearts on the way, and Jeongin would end up having his work cut out for him.

Make no mistake. Jisung couldn’t care less how Jeongin felt, and he still planned to punch Jeongin square in the face when they saw each other again. Depending on the reaction, he would punch Seungmin too.

“Don’t kill anyone,” you said, eyeing over to the side. “And remember, we’re here to get the big guy.”

“Yes, sir,” Jisung joked. A maniacal cackle burst through Jisung’s lip after he jumped up mid-hair and pounced on the nearest person he could see.

Despite his incredible range of magical usage, he has taken a liking to let his fists do the talking and not using magic to his advantage unless necessary. He always enjoyed the forceful feeling at the tips of his knuckles more, and he liked that he had to make accommodations to use his magic because it gave him an easy reason to keep being physical. He would try to dodge incoming attacks in combat with fewer opponents. It was another story when he was outnumbered. His focus remained on getting hits in rather than keeping his body safe. Like a masochist, pain fueled him and made his eyes glow red. It made him punch harder, run faster, and smile wider.

“He’s having fun,” you muttered, sucking in sharp air at the sight of someone’s teeth falling through the air. You could not tell if the tooth belonged to Jisung, as opposed to the blood spots on the ground where he stood.

“He’s gonna take forever to recover from this,” Han said.

“Good. That means we get to be free of work for a while.”

“You mean he’s gonna be free of work,” Han groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “If Jeongin can send us down here, you think he would stop dispatching us on missions just because–“

“Han, stop standing around!” Jisung shrieked with a fistful of someone’s hair. He carelessly dropped the fainted man on the ground so he could throw a middle finger up at Han after seeing his brother’s nonchalant expression in response.

Not allowed to react to Jisung, Han felt the goosebumps traveling through his skin and detected a presence at his side. He leisurely raised his hand, his fingers crooked with only the index finger standing straight. You ducked behind him at the blinding light that emerged in a flash while Han stared deadly into the man’s eyes, hidden partially behind his lightning arm. It took a moment for Han to relax; it was good to know that telekinesis works on the electric arm.

“You kids are so damn weird.”

As soon as Han took off the pressure around the air, the man allowed the momentum of his arm to swing his body around. He hopped, his hips moving along with the motion to kick his leg up high. Han blocked the stomp of the leg with his forearm and shoved it away. Reaching out, he grabbed the front collar of the man’s shirt. He disregarded the burn of electrocution when the man held onto his wrist in an attempt to struggle his grip off. Han quickly punched the older man’s face, returning with his palm facing flat against it so he could slam his muscular body to the nearest wall.

The man gritted his teeth, taking in the gist of Han’s natural strength through the pain. He twisted his hand around Han’s wrist but failed to break it. It did catch Han off-guard, though, and he took the chance to break free from the hole in the wall. Ducking his sudden arm swing, Han dropped to the ground and kicked his body into a cartwheel, his feet colliding against the man’s chin into an uppercut. The elder heaved an irritated groan as he snapped back to the present. He charged at Han.

Han blocked his roundhouse kick twice, and he grasped onto the man’s ankle at the third kick. Pulling at his feet to throw him across the tunnel, Han did not anticipate the grab on his shoulder, causing him to halt his movement, or else he could have been thrown along with the man. Taking Han’s confusion as an opportunity, the man grounded his other feet against the floor for leverage and quickly swung Han’s lightweight body over his shoulder. He let go, leaving Han in mid-air, and charged his electric arm enough to punch Han a few yards away to the other end of the tunnel.

Jisung looked away from the lackeys at the commotion. His eyes widened when he found his brother standing up from afar, slowly registering the fact that the man must have considerable strength. But, more importantly, the next target appeared to be you. Shoving the person before him and hopping atop their stumbling body, Jisung vanished into falling white feathers and reappeared next to you. After you dodged the man’s hand from meeting your shoulder, you hopped back to give Jisung space.

Instead of advancing, Jisung lunged toward you and tackled you into his arms, just in time to miss a punch. Before you two hit the ground, Han motioned at you both and telekinetically pulled you to where he stood.

Jisung tightened his grip on your hand once you both were back on your feet. He wiped the blood dripping from his nose and reached his tongue out to touch the smear around his philtrum. He dealt with most people gathered, leaving a reasonable number of them roaming around. But the main problem here was the man with the lightning arm. Han may have been caught off guard, but being able to push someone several yards away at such high velocity could only mean that either he was well-trained, which wouldn’t make sense regardless, or electricity was not the only power he received, which would be unusual.

Powers come in single forms, discounting the side effects. Electricity is only electricity. It doesn’t give you super strength. Unless the man pawned off an additional ability from a God, which was unheard of but might be the more reasonable explanation for his superhuman strength, there was no way he could have pushed Han that far.

“Are you okay?” Jisung asked.

“Yeah,” Han touched a hand to his ribcage, “he broke my ribs.”

Jisung knew his brother was okay. He eyed the crowd in the front, almost daring them to continue the fight.

“I didn’t say anything before, but,” Han said, “why did he need this many people here?”

“I hate to say this, Han, but more people want us dead than you think.” you gasped before gradually steadying your breathing to calm yourself.

“Yeah. Remember the first day of school?” Jisung added. “Remember what Chan did?”

Han squinted his eyes and scratched his head in recollection. That did not complicate the situation more, but it did not lighten the mood either. The newfound knowledge of the boss’s strength changed how things would turn out. The twins were not afraid, not exactly. Cautious would be a better word. Perhaps even unsure whether this was the best extent to what the older man could do.

There have never been any recorded cases of a God gifting more of their power to a human before. But it would not make sense that he was stronger than an average person even with the criminal experience, which was beginning to seem like that was the case.

“What’s the plan now?” Han asked discreetly, staring ahead at the crowd.

“We catch the guy,” you replied. “But let’s get rid of everyone else first.”

“Han, you do that,” Jisung muttered. “He was going for [Name] just then. I think he knows if they die, we die.”

Han turned to Jisung, frowning. Nobody would sit idly by once he initiates another fight, and if he were too busy handling the crowd, Jisung would have to protect you. Han was worried about his brother’s ability to hold his own without regenerative abilities and already having sustained injuries. “Can you handle it?”

Jisung raised his brows. He should be. For some reason, the distrust did not anger him. He leaned over to bump his knuckles against his brother’s arm and chuckled. “Just come help before I lose an arm.”

“Okay.” Han rubbed the tip of his nose with a smirk. “For the record, did we forgive Chan for that?”

“Oh yeah, totally,” Jisung said with a dismissive wave. “We’ll hate him again when we need to hold something against him.”

Han chuckled before he took off. The gust of wind blew against your face, forcing you to shut your eyes, and when you could open them again, the same electric glow was advancing only steps ahead of you and Jisung. Jisung got into a stance that Changbin taught him, and he focused his breathing in preparation. He thought of this as backyard training with Changbin, who may be the worst opponent he has ever encountered solely due to the veteran’s years of training and experiences. Nothing could be worse than fighting someone like that.

The electricity burnt his palm when Jisung caught a flying fist. He ignored it and tugged the older man forward, leading the path off-track to the side to ram his fist, coated with air pressure, straight at the man’s ribs. Jisung let go after the punch, stumbling slightly due to recoil but immediately regaining his balance to advance toward the man. He hopped up, ready to hand over a roundhouse kick, but vanished into white feathers and reappeared behind the man. Jisung grabbed a fist full of his hair, yanked his head downward to meet his knee, and attempted to fling him into the tunnel wall.

The man could see you before him, shrunken by yourself with neither of the twins by your side. This was what he wanted, to get you alone. He was dissatisfied just then seeing that Han was standing next to you like a guard dog; in terms of getting rid of nuisances, he would much rather fight someone without regenerative abilities. This was his chance, but his anger only built up as Jisung threw him around with stupid magic tricks. Foolish, insolent child. He could not afford to fail this operation after everything he’s done to obtain the powers he wanted.

None were enough. From his wife and children to all he had kidnapped. He needed to offer a God to another God. Imagine the gift he would receive. At some point, as his body slowly becomes accustomed to withholding more energy, he may eventually get enough power to kill a God by himself.

Before Jisung could slam him to the wall, the man reached his zapping arm up and unthinkingly gripped around Jisung’s burnt area, which had been swollen and blistered. The younger boy gritted his teeth in pain when he felt the worm-like electricity digging into his flesh—this hurt more than any attacks he tanked a moment ago fighting the group of lackeys. Jisung released the man’s hair in a hasty attempt to tug himself away when the man began to dig his nails into his skin, tearing through tissues and drawing blood. He screamed for the man to let go, his legs squirming.

You gasped horrifically at the sight and decided to dive into the scene to help. But, seeing you out of his peripheral vision, Jisung screamed at you to stop.

“No! [Name], move away!” Jisung hollered as he placed his palm out, gathering a ball of air pressure and haphazardly releasing it.

The man plummeted a few feet into the ground, and Jisung finally dropped onto the floor. You scrambled over to him and helped him up carefully. He held onto his arm, sweat lacing his hair and his face turning red as he glared at where his hand once was. The force of the air blast, the grounded nails the man had stuck into his skin, and the decaying skin due to continuous burning helped tear his hand straight off when Jisung blasted the man away from him. Jisung trembled, leaning into the pain with his eyes shut.

He was fine. It was just very unexpected.

Before you could do anything, the man emerged abruptly from the hole in the ground. Jisung pushed you away with his body and got caught by the neck. The man smirked as he lifted Jisung off the ground. “I got you two now.” He threw Jisung over his shoulder, around, and across the tunnel to where Han was. As he did so, he yelled, “Open the Steal Box!”

Han looked up and opened his arms to catch his falling brother. He clung onto Jisung as the other boy squirmed to get back on the ground, muttering incoherent demands. Han couldn't find one when he reached to feel for his hand. He could only feel the jagged end of a bone and dripping liquid on his skin. “Jisung, what happened?”

Standing alone on the other side, you quickened your breath at the accelerating situation, and more horrifically, you could recognize two words: Steal Box.

They were not trying to kill you three. They were trying to steal the twins.

“Han, get out of the way!” you screamed when you saw a familiar device being opened behind Han. Before you knew it, your legs began to move, and you were bolting toward your brothers.

You did not stop despite seeing Jisung and Han get sucked into the box. The lid closed, and for a moment, there were silence and the shuffling around of your running. As anticipated, the box shook and glowed along its developing cracks, indicating an attempt to break out. Before the pair of angered twins could bring themselves out of the blackened cage, you were yanked backward by your arms, and within a blink of an eye, two suppression cuffs slammed around your wrists. You gasped shakily as the shaking of the box paused to a standstill.

Nausea overwhelmed you, which you tried your hardest to fight off. You immediately began to grow anxious without the twins around. This was expected; your body could not handle losing an essential part of itself. You had the appearance sequence of the symptoms memorized: sweating, fuzzy eyesight that would fade in and out, burning skin, migraine, stomach pain and the urge to vomit, loss of muscle strength, and so on. And there would be a mix of feeling hollowed out in your chest while being stuffed so full of nothing that you felt suffocated.

Touching a palm to your forehead, you let yourself stumble forward to the person holding the Steal Box. Having let their guard down after knowing the twins were gone, they allow you. You fell to your knees and heaved a few deep breaths. You choked on air suddenly and threw yourself into a coughing fit. Your coughs sounded through the big tunnels, covering the sound of the man’s steps nearing.

“That was eventful.” He motioned for the Steal Box and received it gladly. He took a gracious moment to examine the box, weighing it in his hand, then leaned down to pull you up by your chin. He shook the box before you, as if to tease you of your failure. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this?”

You pursed your lips together into a scornful grimace despite having your jaw clenched between rough fingers. “I don’t even–“ You huffed, feeling a lack of oxygen in your chest. “I don’t even know you.”

“Of course,” he hummed and dropped you leisurely to the ground. You hit your head and curled into a ball to rub at the pain. “You don’t know a lot of things.”

“I know you’re a thief!” You accused, kneeling up. “Give them back!”

“Shouldn’t your body be deteriorating?” He peered down at you before kicking your stomach to keep you down. He inhaled calmly as he looked away, his eyes focused on the Steal Box. “Give them back–don’t fuck around. Your brothers are very valuable offerings.”

You blinked in confusion. Offerings? Like worship? But you have never heard of giving physical presents to a God before. You thought they gained their powers through prayers and beliefs! Was it just an incredibly niche practice? Raising your head, you gasped between breaths to watch the man turn around and walk away. Whatever he meant, you understood that he intended to kill the twins, which you must prevent. Not just to keep yourself alive but also because you loved them.

After everything they have been through for you, this was the one thing you could do for them. You have to hold your own. You must endure this not because you have to prove that you didn’t need your brothers but because you did need them. Desperately, endearingly, you needed them. You three shared one life together, and you were meant to do so until the very end, which wasn’t this moment. You three were a whole existence, the same coin, buried in one grave. You three stick together, as best friends, as siblings, and you will love each other forever. That was why you have to get the Steal Box.

You threw yourself forward and caught onto the man’s feet. He clicked his tongue and attempted to shake you off. Then he tried to hit you with the Steal Box, leaving jagged corners on your head and temples. You clawed on his skin and jumped to your feet despite the added injuries. Putting your arms around his shoulders, you used his heavier weight as an anchor and jumped onto his body. Then you climbed over his shoulder to remain on his back before, with only malicious intent, sunk your teeth into his neck. You bit until you drew blood, until you felt both of his hands on your hair, and you let him fling you off his back.

You bounced back from the fall against your migraine’s wishes and immediately ran to snatch the Steal Box from the ground. Before you bolted away, you stomped on the man’s feet and shoved his unsuspecting self into a group of others. You kept running, spitting the scratched-off skin surface and the metallic blood out into the air and hoping your legs were taking you back to where you three came from.

Your breathing was heavier against the wind blowing against your face as you run. Clutching the box to your chest, fearing for your brothers, you felt your lungs slowly giving out. The air was turning icy and piercing in your throat, traveling like the drag of a knife against your insides. You remembered how you were never a runner. Even during school Sports Days, you always sat on the benches, cheering for others. You refused to join Changbin whenever he would take his daily jogs on weekend mornings, either. Both because you hated exercising and because your relationship with him was strained.

Drops of tears welled in your eyes at the thought of Changbin. You knew you treated him terribly today, but it would be great if he was here. You promised God that you would apologize to him if he came and saved the day.

A light explosion that landed near your feet made you trip. You stumbled, barely managed to catch yourself, and you quickened your pace with an alarmed cry. Fastened steps caught up from behind you and yanked at your hair, forcing you to stop. The tears that welled in your eyes rolled down your cheeks when you saw the man that torn Jisung’s hand off just a minute ago, but regardless of how much you feared him, you bit your inner cheek and clung onto your brothers as he tried to pull the box out of your hands.

“Give me the box.”

He sounded impatient, and he likely was because he threw you to the side by your hair, causing your back to slam against the wall on your way to the ground. He kicked you into the wall again and stomped on your hand when you tried to steady yourself, breaking some of your fingers. You let out an airy scream, your dry throat unable to produce any more shrieking noises, and you refused to let go of the box. He attempted to pry your arms off its surface, slapping and punching your curled-up body in hopes of loosening your grip. He burned your limbs with electricity, creating boiled spots over your skin. You pursed your lips and shut your eyes tight, taking the painful blows with only protecting the twins as your goal.

“You little shit, hand me the box!”

There was a gruffness in his voice when he yelled that sounded identical but also so different from Changbin’s. He may be strict, but he would never hurt you like this. He would never hurt any of you like this. You sobbed with your cheeks pressed against the box, crying for your father, striking another deal with the unknown God, and promising to be nicer like you always did when push comes to shove.

“[Name]? Han? Jisung?”

You snapped your eyes open, prayers heeded. Scrambling to scream for help, you looked up to find the man distracted as he looked for the source of the voice. Fighting against the growing pain and terrible headache, you tugged the Steal Box under your shirt, wrapped your arms around it, and pushed yourself up and forward. You ran, stumbled, caught yourself again, and kept running as you screamed for the echoes to carry your location to Changbin. If he entered the sewage tunnels the same way you three did, all you had to do was return where you came from.

“Help me! I’m here!” Your voice was hoarse and barely made it out. It sounded like a metal fork scraping against a porcelain bowl or the shrieking chalk against a blackboard.

The man was following hot at your tail, so you held your breath and pushed yourself past your body’s limit to run away from him. After a few corners turned, Changbin finally located the source of the rapid footsteps. He sighed in relief when he saw you running toward him and firmly caught you in his arms after you lunged at him.

“What happened?” he asked when he felt how shaky your body was. Your throat scratched out strangled, desperate cries through a closed mouth.

Changbin dropped to the floor with you, ignoring the water that wet the knees of his jeans, and he examined your body grimly. The twins were gone; he could tell from the cuffs on your wrists. Blood spilled from your lips and nose, some smeared across your forehead through gashes and cuts. There were bubbling spots of dead skin on your arms, and three of your fingers seemed broken.

All the injuries on top of you gradually declining health, it was a miracle you hadn’t passed out yet.

He held your face gently in his hands, wiping at the falling tears, and his eyes were unreadable but shaky. Changbin felt gutted, like someone drove a knife into his stomach and slowly began picking out his organs. Each tremor of his hands that cradled your face was a weep he couldn’t afford to let out through his mouth—he was trained not to cry, and he couldn’t as the adult in this situation either, but his heart was broken and sobbing with worry.

He asked again, his voice barely a hush. “What happened, [Name]?”

“I’m sorry,” you croaked and sniffed, hyperventilating. “I’m so sorry.”

“Okay. It’s okay.” He stroked your hair, unsure of how to respond. He was too focused on what caused all these injuries to ask for the source of your apology.

“Jisung and Han,” you cleared your throat mid-sentence as you let the Steal Box fall from your shirt, “are in here.” You continued to talk between deep, difficult drags of air. “They sucked them into a Steal Box again. I haven’t opened it, but–“ You closed your eyes at the wave of sobs bubbling up. You let it break out. “Dad, I can’t–I can’t breathe.”

He panicked and reached into his jacket for his flask, but he stopped knowing that he had never once filled it with water. Whatever was in there would not necessarily help you. But he didn’t know what else he could do. What else was he supposed to do? He should grab you now and make a run for the hospital—of course! That should be his next step, medical attention! Forget whoever did this. He could always come back to deal with it. What mattered the most now was to get you to safety.

“Oh… Jisung–Jisung’s hand got torn off,” you gestured a motion at your hand, “and he took a burn for me, and–“

Changbin could hear the wind pick up around him seconds before your voice fell flat. A lightning bolt molded into the form of a spear was traveling through the air to where he knelt, but before it could hit anything, Changbin shot his arm out and stopped it in its tracks by grabbing its body. You squealed, shuffling for the Steal Box and holding it to your chest again when the familiar heat neared. Seeing your reaction, he removed his attention from you and turned his head to glance behind his shoulder. The lightning man stood not too far away, amused but bothered by Changbin’s presence.

Changbin looked at the lightning sparkling across the bolt and back at your arms. He clenched his jaw, relaxed, and leaned toward you to brush the hair out of your face.

“Stay here,” he whispered, and he stood up.

His jaw tensed again. Taking a few steps forward, he stopped to keep at a safe distance from the man whom he now knew was behind all of this fiasco. Glancing at the lighting spear in his hand, he sneered disgustedly and curled his fingers tightly around it. His muscle flexed with a faint shake of his arm, his grip pressuring a few cracks onto the electrical weapon until it shattered. Changbin sighed with ease as he wiped the remaining specks of dust on his shirt, and he pressed his lips into a thin line when the man laughed.

He was getting better at handling his short temper. Sometimes Chan liked to joke with him about how he only began to grow impatient because he had to live with three teenagers and that most of what triggered his outbursts was associated with the three of you. He often denied that claim; he liked to think his aggression came from years of serving in the military and being forced into hostile environments. But perhaps he could see some truth in Chan’s assumption. Maybe most of his violence did come from you three because all he could feel now, as he stood opposite of the man who mapped your body with blood, was a choking rage spread across his body.

“At last,” the man mused, “daddy’s here.”

Changbin’s ears felt like popping after being muffled for too long, his listening filled with the flat noise of a high-pitched frequency. His joints ached with emotional restraints, and his muscles screamed to be exerted. His body wanted nothing more than to harm.

The man’s expression was vague, enough to let Changbin know that the man wasn’t a stranger to his past. Three years in the military, six years serving in the special forces, four years strangling down a pair of teenagers who were basically God, and an immunity to magic—compared to the inexperienced twins, Changbin would be worse to deal with. Not to mention he was pushed to his wit’s end after knowing the twins were stuffed in a box and seeing you all messed up and sobbing on the floor.

Seo Changbin would be a nightmare, and he planned to be.

“I don’t appreciate you hurting my kids,” he said, his voice monotonous.

“Well,” the man sighed. “I don’t wish to fight you.”

“I wouldn’t stress about it.” Changbin curled his hands into fists. “You won’t be fighting.”

Stepping on the shattered lightning in the process, Changbin’s slow march toward the man shifted to a jog before turning into a full sprint. The man blocked the roundhouse kick with arms crossed before his head, but even then, he was shoved back a few feet at the sheer impact. He groaned; the intensity was smiliar to Han’s punches, but unlike the younger boy, Changbin’s were heavy and certain. He aimed to immobilize using the least effort necessary instead of dishing out multiple strong blows and hoping for the best.

Changbin gave him no time to adjust to his strength. He ran toward the man and aimed for his chest, further pushing him backward. Having had enough, he finally decided to retaliate. He blocked the follow-up kick by shoving Changbin’s feet to the side.

Changbin skilfully swung his body toward its direction, leveling his feet against the ground to steady himself once it reached, and used it for momentum to swing his opposite arm at his target. The first punch was blocked, but when Changbin bluffed out the second one, he was able to land a blow successfully. The punch sounded out loud in contact, and the man felt blood trickling down his nose. He groaned in annoyance, glaring at Changbin with a burning gaze as if his arrival ruined his life, which it arguably did. Jumping back, he reached for his lightning arm and took a good chunk of it. The empty slot soon smoothed over with electricity.

“I know the lightning doesn’t work on you,” he said as he shaped the lightning into something sharp. “But I’m sure a knife still does.”

The man lunged when Changbin didn’t respond. At this point, he was more agitated than calculative; his movements began to dull predictably as he focused on injuring rather than winning.

Changbin jumped back to dodge before the tip of the knife could graze his chest, and he continued to backtrack in between ducking away from the knife’s advances. When an opening introduced itself, he grabbed the man’s wrist and disarmed him by slamming straight down on his inner elbow, souring a sensitive spot that made him lose his grip.

Changbin caught the electrical knife before it fell and jammed it into the man’s shoulder, causing his knees to buckle. Hopping high enough to land on one of those knees, Changbin pushed the man a few steps back when he shoved himself off the wobbly leg, back-flipping toward the wall and using it so lung himself at the unassuming man again. He kicked his stomach, causing the man to cough out saliva. Throwing the lightning knife into his other hand, Changbin stabbed its tip into a spot above the man’s wrist. He placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back into the tunnel wall.

He thought about it. Killing someone takes less than a second; stabbing someone was more fulfilling than shooting someone because he could feel the tightening of their flesh against the blade, desperately closing and clinging to life. It was more fulfilling, and to some degree, he thought he even enjoyed it sometimes. When he looked at the man in front of him, and flashes of your injured face appeared like fuel to fire, he thought about killing him despite having sworn off doing it again after he was discharged from the military.

“Hold still,” Changbin mumbled. He wiggled and twisted the knife sideways. The electricity made it much easier to slice through skin tissues. Once he felt it hit the bone, he applied constant pressure through a mild, sawing motion. Maybe it was the magic infused in the blade; as soon as the blade edge seeped through, the force of the blade opened the bone for itself to pass through.

You meekly looked up when you flinched at the piercing shrieks. Your eyesight was fading with a heavy fog, and you could barely distinguish which figure was who. Changbin pressed his forearm against the man’s hand to restrain the level of squirming until he, with effort, could let the knife breathe by pulling it out of the man’s arm. A squishy, plopping sound hit the ground. It was a bloodied hand. Seconds later, another thud dropped on the floor. It was the man who fainted.

Throwing the knife away, Changbin sneered down at the body before he crouched and grabbed the man’s cut hand. He swung it about lightly as he jogged over to you and knelt by your feet, his eyes no longer seeing shades of crimson.

“Hey.” he called softly as he put a hand on the Steal Box. A lock piece in the center held the lid shut; if he suspected correctly, it operated through fingerprint recognition like the suppression cuffs were. “Let’s see…”

Taking your hand, Changbin grimaced at the sight of the lifeless hand. You would definitely have a few aggressive words to say if you knew he put something so disgusting anywhere near you. Placing the hand around the suppression cuff, he watched in anticipation as it began to glow brightly before, with a click, the cuff released and rolled off your wrist. After releasing you from both cuffs, Changbin reached for the Steal Box and pressed the thumb to the centerpiece. A line of light traveled through the opening of the lid, circled the piece, and the box opened with a soft click.

A huff of cold air escaped the box as Changbin opened it. You sucked in a breath then, as if breathing in the cold air that got out, and your eyes widened abruptly at the clearing vision. A double weight pressed against your thighs. When you processed the faces in front of you, you registered that it was the twins. Han examined your injuries with a clenched jaw, his brows knitted at the center of his forehead. Jisung clung to his injured arm and gave you a reassuring smile when you two met eyes.

“We’re matching,” Jisung mumbled, pointing a finger to the dry blood on his forehead.

You chuckled at first, and then you sniffed at the tearful knot you swallowed past your teeth. Your eyes watered as you leaned against the wall, and timid sobs rolled down your face. Han pulled his sleeve over his hand so he could dap at your eyes. His voice muttered soft words of urgency that asked you not to cry. Jisung remained silent on his knees, never too sure how to comfort a deeply distraught person, but his eyes observed you, not missing a beat of your in- and exhales.

“It’s okay. We’re okay,” Han cooed, moving his knees closer to your side inch by inch. He wiped your tears and carefully plucked at the strands of hair stuck to your cheek. He kissed the crown of your head. “You’re okay.”

“Are you both feeling fine?”

The twins turned their heads and simultaneously softened when they saw Changbin kneeling by your feet. Han looked away to the back, and his lips pursed into recognition when he noticed the familiar man faintde on the floor. Jisung followed his brother’s gaze. His jaw dropped slightly at the sight, taken back as his hand flew to his wrist to feel for the cut tentatively. He could still feel the lingering pain, but it wasn’t bothering him much anymore. His breathing picked up when he noticed an identical injury on the man.

“I’m good,” Han replied before he eyed Jisung. “I’m not sure about him, though.”

“I’ll heal.” Jisung nodded.

They stayed silent after that, but the glance they shared was riddled with guilt. The kind of guilt you could see in someone when they realize they have been unreasonably horrible to someone they should not be.

“Alright. We will go to the hospital first anyway so we can get [Name] treated,” Changbin said as he stood up. He didn’t know how else to show his concern. He approached the fainted man and reached down to hoist him up so he could throw him over the shoulder. “Text Jeongin that we’re bringing him in shortly.”

“Come on,” Han said quietly as he helped you up. He frowned at how your legs trembled as you stood and how you seemed unable to stand up straight. “Do you need me to carry you?”

“No,” you grunted.

You were toughing it out, as Han assumed you have from all the injuries you sustained. There was a soft sense of pride blooming in his chest and a touch of love knowing that you did everything you could to keep them safe inside the Steal Box, just as he and Jisung did everything to keep you from harm. Not because of a mutual lifeline, but because you loved each other dearly, because you three have been with each other since birth and have never separated once, because you three make one whole.

Han didn’t think you should have to continue holding yourself up after that, but if you insisted, he would comply. Jisung followed closely next to you, cracking jokes that mocked your walking speed. Han held onto you to keep you steady, and he laughed between steps.

The apartment has never been more rowdy since you three moved out.

Hyunjin clapped at the movie on the television, causing you to look up from your phone. You frowned when you realized you had missed the scene entirely, but you decided not to bombard Hyunjin with questions. You repositioned the cross of your legs draped over his lap and sank further against the couch. Hyunjin clicked his tongue into a pout as he adjusted his seat to accommodate you. He quickly let go of the matter when the movie's pace picked up.

Felix sat on the edge of the coffee table before the couch. There was a small, pet container sitting on top surrounded by carelessly thrown colored pencils. In his hands sat a hedgehog unrolled into a comfortable position. The hedgehog, named Sonice but pronounced almost identical to Sonic as a wordplay, was one of Felix’s many emotion pets. It was also the most well-behaved one due to its representation of love, making it harder to trigger the hedgehog into its ten feet high, abominable form.

Besides you, the twins were also not paying attention to the movie Hyunjin suggested watching before dinner. Han didn’t want to start it because he knew dinner would be ready in the middle, and he would lose all interest in it once dinner was done. Jisung protested against watching it because instead of losing interest, he knew he would start shoving food in his mouth for a quick finish so he could be excused earlier to continue. Either way, the two focused more on decorating Jisung’s arm cast than the movie.

After taking you to the hospital, the doctors did sutures on some of the deeper cuts you and Jisung sustained during the mission. Your broken fingers were put back into place, and you were given a splint to prevent further injuries. Jisung was fitted for an arm cast after reattaching his hand, which he remembered to get before Changbin could drive to the hospital. Thankfully he remembered, or else he would have to wait a painfully long process for his hand to grow back, from the blood vessels to the skin and bone.

Instead of escorting him to the department headquarters, the fainted man had to be hospitalized for his injuries before he could be dealt with. Changbin handed him over to the medical staff and returned to check on you three, wanting nothing more to do with him directly while knowing he’s got one hell of a report to write later.

The spotty burns on your arms were more challenging to deal with. They were less severe than the palm burn you got as they were scattered and covered much smaller surfaces of your skin, but they felt swollen, and they stung. After applying ointments to the spots, the doctors gave instructions on daily cleaning of the wounds and changing the burn dressing. Getting the confirmation that, if the worst case scenario happens, Jisung would be here to take the fall for you, you three were discharged.

Chan looked up from setting the table when he heard the doorbell. He dropped the napkins and gave a holler into the kitchen that he would get the door. Squeezing his way through the diner chairs, he opened the door to find Jeongin and Seungmin standing outside. He smiled, partially glancing downward to see Jeongin gripping Seungmin’s hand, which would explain the uncomfortable expression on his face. Looking back up, he pursed his lips to avoid asking anything he didn’t care to know the answer to and stepped aside.

Jeongin took off his shoes and pushed them to the corner with his feet. He had been dreading this moment since he finished the press conference and got news from Changbin that you and Jisung were being treated at the hospital. Changbin didn’t say anything that was not informative, but Hyunjin raged at him through text after hearing about what happened. Hyunjin did not blame him for what happened to you three, but he found it hard not to internalize the event.

He did send you three there. If he hadn’t done that, this wouldn’t have happened.

“It’s going to be fine,” Seungmin said with a tug on Jeongin’s hand. “Come on.”

He hid behind Seungmin as he got dragged to the living room. The noise from the movie was recognizable because he overheard Seungmin watch it on speaker once. You sat on the couch with Hyunjin, the two of you sitting with your legs touching. Shifting his gaze, Han was seated on the floor, focusing on the pencil sharpener in his hands. Moving up, standing off to the side with a glass of water and a colorful arm cast, was Jisung, who stared back at him blankly.

Jisung almost forgot he was going to punch Jeongin’s teeth out. He never meant it anyway. He only said it because he was angry. Setting the glass down on the coffee table, Jisung debated if he should make a joke about that promise until, after he stood up straight, he found Jeongin shuffling toward where he stood. He blinked, confused at the quietness surrounding him and the tiny steps Jeongin seemed afraid to take. When his friend neared, he was further baffled as Jeongin slipped his arms over his body and hugged him tightly.

Jeongin sniffed back tears at his friend’s solid figure. Knowing that everything had turned out fine and nobody had died because of him gave him a sense of relief. “I’m so sorry, Jisung,” he said, his voice cracking tearfully at Jisung’s name. “I didn’t know this would happen. I’m really sorry.”

“I…” Jisung swallowed a ball of air. He felt a forgiving smile creeping on his face. At the same time, he thought that Jeongin’s apology was ridiculous because it was unnecessary. Reaching an arm up to pat Jeongin’s back, he mused, “I’m still alive.”

Seungmin chuckled from behind, but he kept his smile barely visible until you appeared near him, then it completely flattened. You squinted your eyes up at him, which he purposefully avoided looking into because he was busy counting the burn dressings on your arms. His heart sighed with exhaustion—he really miscalculated this mission, and he would spend most of his time reminding himself of this colossal mistake. He would never show it, but even then, he thought you already knew how he felt, hence why you were next to him.

“Did everyone make it out of there?” you asked.

Seungmin looked ahead at Jisung and Jeongin. He pulled a face when Jeongin jumped behind Jisung to avoid touching Sonice. Personally, he has never seen its monstrous form before. Jeongin was friends with Felix before they were introduced to each other so he has seen the pet stretch up to ten feet tall, and he swore with his life that he never wanted to see it again. Seungmin was unsure how serious Jeongin was being when he said that.

“Yes. We called a team down to escort them out,” he responded after a beat. “But those who have been missing are likely all dead.”

“Yeah, well. We can’t save everyone.” You flattened your lips into a neutral smile. Glancing up at him, you found his expression remained unchanging. You looked away, your fingers fidgeting. “Don’t think too hard about it, Seungmin.”

He stiffened, his eyes softening with an unsheathing wound, knowing you meant yourself and your brothers. Eventually, he gave you a curt nod. “Thanks.”

Growing up honing his skills to be aloof all the time was no use after years of spending time with all of you. Seungmin wondered if there were certain muscles on his face he didn’t know how to control, making it impossible for him to hide his thoughts. Chan was already good at reading people like a hawk, Han was good at predicting how people felt in general, and Jeongin was his best friend for too long not to know what he was thinking all the time.

But none of them talked to him the way you spoke to him—brief but, to him, endearing. He chalked it up to his obsession with deep research into people’s God-given abilities, which he did a lot of yours because of its peculiarity. As time passed, even though he knew a great deal about you now, he still found himself looking up things of association to you not for knowledgeable gain but just for consumption. He tried not to think about it.

Looking over to the couch, Seungmin found Hyunjin staring pointedly at him, his nails flicking against the cushion of his fingers frustratedly. He sneered at himself; Hyunjin annoyed him sometimes. Shifting his eyes, he looked to Felix, the twins, and Jeongin instead. Han kept Sonice in his palm, an affectionate smile on his face while his hand shoved Jisung away from attempting to poke at the pet. Seungmin heaved a long-awaited sigh; the twins were even more annoying.

Retreating from the wall that separated the living room and the dining area, Chan returned to the table and helped Changbin set down the reheated plate of pork cutlets. “The kids are all here.”

“Yet none of them came to help set the table,” Changbin mumbled through a heaved sigh.

“That’s okay. I got it covered.” Chan laughed as he waved his hand before his face. “Let them relax.”

Pulling the nearest chair out, Changbin rolled his eyes in defeat as he slumped onto the seat. He wiped his head of sweat that cumulated from the steamed kitchen, and his chest breathed steadily at the recognition of the younger ones’ laughing in the living room. He picked through the voices for you three, listening for your conversations. It has been an eventful day. It felt like he was dangling in the middle of a cliff, clinging onto the fortunate jutting out of a tiny ledge. Even the suffocating air of the kitchen that muffled your voices made him anxious.

It was a usual silence that filled the air. Changbin rarely spoke, let alone continuing small talks. But Chan knew well this silence was exhausted, but with a calm relief floating around a bottle of emotions he has to bring out of Changbin somehow. Mirroring the veteran’s movement, he picked the chair just across and sat down. He leaned against the slat. This was nothing but a conversation between unlikely friends.

“How are you feeling?” Chan asked.

“Hm?” Changbin’s eyes focused, and he gazed at the man sitting across from him. Gathering his thoughts, he breathed a thoughtful hum and rubbed his hand on his thigh to fill the awkwardness that existed only to him. “Much better now.”

“I reckon,” Chan huffed out positively.

“Are you still going to interrogate him?”

“Yeah, of course! Jeongin volunteered to do it himself, actually, but I thought I should be there just in case,” Chan said, rubbing his nose. “I doubt people will care about what happens to that person, but it’s best to keep the need for damage control to a minimum.”

Changbin raised his brows at the insinuation of Chan’s words. He pondered a little on Jeongin’s character, quickly pausing as he realized how little he knew about the boy. More often than not, Jeongin was putting up an act as the unit's spokesperson. Even the exaggerated disrespect was, he thought, an act untrue to his nature. Changbin could only catch a glimpse of him being an ordinary boy when his friends were in the same room, which wasn’t a frequent occasion.

“You think he’s going to kill him?”

“I think I can’t underestimate his protectiveness over his friends and his desire to avenge them,” Chan clarified.

“Well,” Changbin nodded in agreement, “I don’t think he will do anything unnecessary.”

Chan smiled a bit. “Was what you did necessary?”

“Elaborate.”

“I think you know what I’m talking about.”

Changbin tensed up. He knew exactly what Chan was referring to. Prolonging the fight when he could have quickly gone for incapacitation so that he could take out the burning across his knuckles, and pinning a weaker man to a wall to slowly brand an injury identical to the one suffered by a loved one.

“I did what I had to,” Changbin replied.

He was telling the truth. Chan knew merely from the look on his face and perhaps the context of the situation that every bit of violence was necessary not to reach the goal of the mission or to protect anybody but that Changbin needed to release the bottled-up vengeance that would have carried on with him if he never did anything. And he was satisfied with what he did because that was all he did. Years ago, he would have simply killed. As morbid as it was, giving that man a taste of his medicine after he tried to kill his children was already a leap of emotional improvement.

Chan looked ahead, seemingly forming a second opinion. Changbin wasn’t a good father in that he was unskilled at parenting, but he was a good father in that he loved the three of you immensely. In the face of that, he could not bring himself to accuse his friend of anything other than caring about you three so much that he could cut through bones and flesh. And sometimes, he wondered if he would ever do the same.

“I’m gonna go call them to eat,” Chan said as he pushed himself off the chair. He patted Changbin on the shoulder. “You should ask them to sleep over for tonight.”

“Why?” Changbin smiled, confused.

“After what happened today, they’ll feel the safest knowing you’re just down the hall,” Chan said leisurely as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. “They’ll never ask you first. You’re just going to have to take the shame to do it–“ He giggled. “You’re the dad.”

Leaving his side, Chan clapped twice as he jogged into the living room and hollered that dinner was ready. A wave of protest erupted to delay dinner time as, apparently, all of you began to pay attention to the movie. Jisung yelled the loudest when Chan stood in front of the television and snapped his fingers, a look of disapproval you all promptly ignored.

“You guys–“

“I want everyone at the dinner table on a count of three. One!“

Chan grimaced, then he rolled his eyes in both exasperation and amazement when all of you snapped your heads toward the direction of the dinning room upon Changbin’s nonchalant voice.

Seungmin shrugged when you tapped his arm furiously. Hyunjin rose from the couch and began meeting you halfway.

“Two!”

Jisung laughed as he put his hands on Jeongin’s shoulders and shoved the boy with him to the dining room. Felix trailed closely behind, almost tripping on his feet because he was busy putting Sonice in his pocket. Han made a few strides over to you, his brows raised into a smile. Hyunjin and Seungmin both frowned when he grabbed your arm and grinned as he pulled you closer to his chest.

“One!”

“No shortcut for you both,” Han joked before, within a blink of an eye, you two burst into a puff of black feathers and reappeared on top of two vacant chairs in the dining room. He brushed his arm as if to clean them and looked up to find Changbin deadpanning at him. Shrugging, Han said, “We made it in time.”

Changbin wasn’t even thinking about the countdown. He was more concerned that your clumsy reappearance almost flipped the table of food over.

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atolua · 2 years ago

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BREAKING : ATEEZ’S LUA AND STRAY KIDS’ HAN CONFIRMED TO BE DATING

CELEB FEBRUARY 19, 2023 J. KATHARINA

picture this: it's an ordinary day, your favorite artists have updated their socials, and their company releases a statement regarding one of the members- wait what?

that was the exact situation atinys faced after kq entertainment went the short and simple route to drop some news about one of the members of ateez. which one? is it bad or good news? well, you can read it below:

hello, this is kq entertainment.

on behalf of one of our artists, we are happy to announce that ateez's lua is currently dating. she has been going out with the man for a few months now, and has decided to reveal this because it is a blessing that she'd like to share with the people who have helped her get to where she is now.

in return, we ask atinys that regardless of this news, they continue to support her and the rest of ateez. please be aware that legal action will be taken against malicious comments.

thank you.

of course, atinys wanted to know who is this mystery man who has stolen the heart of ateez's moonlight. they didn't have to wait to long for less than a few hours later, another bomb was dropped.

this time, stays were added to the mix. here is the statement from jyp entertainment:

hello, this is jype.

we are writing to inform everyone that stray kids' han is dating ateez's lua. the two artists have been meeting with good feelings for a while now. please continue to support the couple and stray kids as they continue their activities.

after reading the statements from the companies, the two fandoms went into detective mode to ensure that this was really true. after some digging, they found hints that were dropped by the artists themselves, including this post that lua uploaded on instagram for valentine's day.

on behalf of atinys and stays, we wish the best for this blooming couple!

let us know what you think about this.

❑ TAGLIST .. @stealanity @ateezivy

#୫ ⋄ … articles ˖ better an oops than a what if #oc-ommunity #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez 9th member #ateez added member #ateez addition #han x oc #skz x oc #stray kids x oc #kpop addition #kpop additional member

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xoteajays · 2 years ago

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leah x han + the loss & return

you alone were my fate, i would have done anything for you. — anna akhmatova.

#ocappreciation #ochub #occentral #fast and furious oc #han x oc #han lue #han seoul oh #oc: leah cruz #nolanhollogay said fast and furious 1 (one) time #im so normal about them #im So NOrmal

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emtriestowrite · 2 years ago

Text

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lufyuu · 5 months ago

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,,Discipline''

Older military instructor x younger brat male reader

Tw/s: brat taming, dubcon, face fucking, age gap (22&38), sadism, hair grabbing/pulling, punishing themes, light degration and praise.

The room is almost dead quiet if not for the lecture a tall man is giving. Air and people alike both tense. Nobody dares to make a wrong move nor play around. Though, that 'nobody' doesn't include a certain young man who has just barely graduated from college not long ago. Some describe him as a very shameless and lazy man, while others just say he's enjoying life. He'd always be either on his phone or napping all throughout his classes. It seems like it's all he can ever do, even at home. Instead of finding a decent job and finding love like his friends, he only stayed home being a bum living in his parents' basement. This 'routine' continued until he got the sudden news of being enlisted in the military all thanks to his mom, who by this point, had almost given up on her son if not for the neighbors giving advice. They had said their son used to be like hers until they forcefully pushed him into the military. Ever since then, he's been nothing but responsible.

The young man in question is [Name] [L.Name]. The moment you heard you'd go into the military, you got pissed at your mom and locked the door to your bedroom-like basement for a few days. Refusing to eat and talk. This didn't do much other than starve you. The military was unavoidable by this point so, you had no other choice but to depart from home in just a few weeks time.

Today's your second day in the military. Well, you're at the very back of a huge crowd of men in uniforms. They had given everyone a pair of uniform to wear today but honestly, you just threw it on randomly, not even caring if some buttons were left unbuttoned. Somehow, you'd sneaked your phone in. Providing some entertainment as an old man, whom you don't remember the name of, explains the rules and laying out the schedule for your daily life there. You couldn't give less of a fuck. None of this matters anyways, you're going to be out in like what? A few weeks after the training's over. Maybe you'd even get out faster if you show your signature pout to your mom like always.

Scrolling on Twitter, you watch some sex videos without clicking on the video itself. You're a whole creep, but why dwell on it? You've given up on yourself years ago. This doesn't matter all that much. You could even feel yourself getting hard at the sight. You wish you hear them enjoying a good fucking right now. Unfortunately for you and your almost hardened dick, that wouldn't be possible. Even though you sneaked in a phone, you hadn't managed to sneak in a pair of headsets. How unlucky. Your eyes focus on the video, never moving from it even when the man's loud voice pierce through your ears. At the very least, you do know that he's an ex soldier who has fought in one of the many wars that has happened in the past decade. Not that you'd be able to do much with that information. Apparently he came here just to be a substitute as the actual instructor had gotten a serious illness and has a high chance of staying in the hospital for at least a few months, causing him to not be able to come and teach. You'd rather he shut the fuck up though. His loud voice is ruining your mood watching porn. "Jesus can he just shut up", you mumble to yourself, maybe one or two near you heard but not like they'd snitch.

Even in a serious situation, you manage to get hard. Although you're shameless, you're not shameless enough to masturbate infront of all these people. That'd be ridiculous. So, you try to hold yourself back. '10 more minutes...you can hold it' you think to yourself.

You scroll to a particularly sexually arousing video. It shows a man being facefucked roughly. Drool rolling down his chin as he's forced to take it all in, not being able to catch his breath. You can even feel yourself getting harder and harder by the second. You imagine yourself as the one on the receiving end. God how'd amazing it would be to have another man's cock down your throat like that, fucking it and putting you in your place. Just the thought of it is enough to make you twitch.

You hover your finger over the video and just as you're about to scroll. Thump! "I'm so sorry—", the man next to you who had just bumped your dominant hand on accident is silenced by the very loud sound of moaning and slurping coming from your device. You instantly freeze. Not daring or even able to move to close the video. All eyes are now on you as you're the source of the very out of place noises. Heck, you somehow notice the instructor stopping dead in the middle of his lecture just to stare at you through the crowd. Your eyes are still wide as you try your best to salvage what's left or your ego by closing the app entirely. Almost dropping it in the process. "Fuck..", you let out after holding in your words for a few seconds. You're so done for. With that, people begin to whisper just beside you as you can do nothing about it. The room gets noisier and noisier by the second until eventually...

"Silence."a manly and fierce voice commands. It sets the whole mood of the room as everyone turns to face the man in front of them, tense. You could do nothing but follow their move. "Today's lesson is over. Everyone may leave in an orderly fashion.", his tone leaves no room for complaints as everyone leaves quietly, shoulders tense. With you being last in line, he stops you before you even get the chance to make it halfway to the exit. "Not you, young man.", even though your brain tells you to leave, every single part of your body stops, not being able to get out of the dangerous situation. You only stood still as he went over to close the door. When he turns back, you can see his badge and finally identify him as Han Minho. Almost everything comes back to you. He's the soldier who played a crucial part in stopping the war 20 years ago. Here he is now, in the flesh, looking at you with almost a glare.

"You do know why I'm holding you back, don't you?", it's a question yet his tone doesn't seem like one. It's more of getting you to admit your guilt. Though, there's no way you'd admit something like that. "No", you try to avoid his gaze by looking elsewhere and distracting yourself with the walls and floors. He can only sigh at your refusal to admit what you'd done. As he reaches over to his desk to grab something, you take the opportunity to sprint to the door—anndd you're pinned to it. So much for getting out the door, you're not trapped between the door and Minho. You shouldn't have underestimated his strength and agility even for a second as that caused this. "And where do you think you're going? I don't remember letting you off", he hovers over you, you practically have to tilt your head up a bit just to be face to face with the man.

The room remains dead silent for another 10 seconds until Minho finally breaks it. "Give me your phone", he demands, holding his hand out to take it away from you. "That's my property, why should I give it to you?", you try to push him off with your phone still in your hands. He snatches it away and even when you try to grab it back, he has enough ability to keep you away. Seeing as you have a password set, he decides to grab your dominant hand and use your finger to unlock the phone. You tried resisting but of course his strength is outmatched. He immediately goes to your twitter page, finally finding the source of the disturbance in his lecture.

"...so. This, is what you've been up to during my lecture.", he stares at the video, hardly impressed. He looks back at you, "you got turned on by this?", he clealy spots your arousal under those uniform pants. He's merely pointing it out. You shake your head no once more, can't he just let you go already..."Darling, even I have a bigger one", he seems to be pointing out the fact that his dick size is bigger compared to the guy getting sucked off in the video. You scoff, the dick in the video's at least 5-6 inches, what is he even on. "Alright old man, I'm just going to head out with my phone", you try to take the phone out of his hand as he holds it near you uet to no avail. His grip doesn't waver as you try to pry the phone out of his hand. "I don't recall asking you to head back?", his eyes are oh so intimidating as he stares into yours. In a split second, he manages to pull you infront of the desk. "Get on your knees", he lets a chilling smile spread on his face. A smile that sends shivers down your spine, your knees getting weaker by the second. You still refuse and try to put on a brave face which only frustrates Minho more. "Unless you want me to spread this? I can assure you, anything that comes out of my mouth will be spreading like wildfire.", he shakes your phone a bit. He isn't wrong nor exaggerating. Anything coming out of his mouth is bound to reach the ears of your parents and maybe even close friends. You can't let that happen!

Reluctantly, you get on your knees infront of him. You look up at his tall figure, wondering what he wants or even gain from this. His hands reach over to his zipper as he slowly and teasingly zip it down. "W-wait!", you try to stop his hands by overlapping them with yours. He waits for you to continue your sentence yet you cant find the words to express what you want. "Why are you hesitating? Isn't this what you want? You're already hard", he points out your hard-on, straining against your pants. You can't respond to it as it is true you're hard and needy. With a simple yank, your hands fall back on the ground as he finishes undoing his pants. He slips his hard and long dick out. It's very close to your face, hell, it even almost slapped you. After a few seconds, you could tell his dick is definitely bigger than the one you had just seen a couple minutes ago. "What? Cat got your tongue?", he has a smug expression on his face due to how quiet you became. "Why don't you take care of my cock if you have nothing else to do?", he raises his eyebrows as his eyes lower into an intimidating gaze. "And don't use any teeth", rather than a request, it felt more like a threat. You put your hands around his cock and start to slowly lick the head ever so slightly. Not having prior experience in sucking nor licking cock, you do such a bad job at it that it gets a yawn from the man whose hard cock you're tending to. "Is that the best you can do? At least try putting half of it in your mouth", you try your best to fit half of his cock in but of course it's a bit hard. When it is in, you begin to suck and lick his cock. Trying to ignore the fact you feel like you're about to choke if you keep it in any longer.

"That's better, good boy", he praises and calls you a pet name. He takes out your phone and begins to record you sucking his cock. For a few seconds, you don't notice ad you're too focused on sucking his dick. When you do notice, you try to back off and remove his cock from your mouth. This ends up with him grabbing your hair and pulling you back, taking his whole cock in your mouth, the tip of your nose touching his happy trail. Your face contort in a mixture of gagging and somewhat pain. You so desperately want to get his dick out of your mouth but he keeps your head firmly there. Not moving at all for maybe 5 seconds. Even when he does let you move, it's just him guiding you back and forth. Your hair is super messy now due to him gripping it so hard, thrusting his hips into you, making you take it in your throat. "You're doing such a great job...ah...", he grunts and moans. The hand holding your phone is very still, making sure to get the best view of his dick going in and out your mouth.

You can even taste some of his precum in your mouth. Both of you can tell he's close to his climax. The way he thrusts faster and faster gives it all away. All you can do is hope that he cums faster. As his grunts and moans get louder, his hand almost loses grip on the phone. "Agh..ah..'m cumming..don't swallow,,agh yet!", cum starts to pour into your mouth, a lot of it. It almost overflows and due to your mouth being wide open, some of it drips on the ground in-between the two of you. You close your eyes as you can feel the warm liquid enter. When Minho pulls away, there was a sticky string that connected his cock to your mouth. He pants while you try your best to close your mouth without swallowing any. "Look at me", you look up at him as his fingers part your lips without using any force. It reveals your mouth full of his cum. Finishing the recording, he takes a picture of your face with his cum dripping out your mouth before telling you to "swallow."

He eventually returns your phone back to you after tidying himself up. "Clean up this mess you've made. I expect you to be on your best behavior next time." He walks past you towards the door. "If not, there will be more where that came from", he doesn't even look at you as he says those words. Only letting a little chuckle and walking away, the door closing as he does, leaving you all alone with cum all over the floor and your phone.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

A couple of months later, you find yourself making more and more friends. They aren't your close friends in any way but it's nice having a handful of people to talk to as you go through the intensive training together. Ever since the incident, you find yourself avoiding the mistake you had made before. Fortunately, you manage to keep your phone on you rather than having it confiscated by Han Minho. Even though you never notice, Minho has always been paying more attention to you than others. Perhaps he's trying to catch you on your phone once more for another round. Regardless, whatever the reason is, you're oblivious to it.

Your routine stays the same. It's the same old routine for everyone there anyways. Get up at 5AM, get ready and have a bit of breakfast before the morning training. Have a few hours to yourself where everyone's free to do anything they would like. Then it's lunchtime before going back to training.

The cafeteria is busy due to everyone flocking to it in order to fill their empty stomachs. The sound of people chstting away, muttering and even whispering to one another, fills the whole room. You take a seat next to one of your buddies. "How'd you guys sleep?", you ask, trying to start a conversation before biting down on your sandwich. The whole incident behind you. "Eh, I've slept better nights", one answers that starts a chain reaction of people agreeing. You can see where they're coming from. The whole training's tiring not to mention boring. The table's silent for a moment until someone perks up. "Hey! I know what we should do!", he looks at everyone with anticipating eyes. Everyone, including you, look at him confusingly. "We should have a little fun before going to bed, that'll make us sleep better and not be bored", he recommends excitedly. You all looks at one another before nodding. "Sounds like an idea but...what should we do?", you tilt your head to which he replies with a smug expression.

The clock tick tocks as it points at 22:48. It's usually when people are already sleeping after a long day of training. But not you and your friends though. You're all wide awake sitting on the floor with a water bottle. It's just the beginning of the game your friend had suggested. It's a bit tense due to the fact everyone's sacred of being caught, especially if it's by the Han Minho. He's scarier than everyone in the training combined. Once he says something, everyone shuts up and listens or at the very least keep up the act of listening even is they aren't. "Let's whisper for now, what if he's out on patrol in the hallways..we'll be absolutely fucked", the man next to you, Tae, suggests. As he says this, he leans into the middle in order for everyone to hear and raising his right hand at the side of his mouth. Everyone nods in agreement as the game starts quietly and slowly.

"Joon, truth or dare?", Tae starts the game, pointing at the friend sitting across from the two of you. He pauses for a moment and proceeds to pick 'truth'. It's what anyone would pick, really. Tae doesn't hesitate to ask him a question. It seems as if he's been holding this in for a while. "Is it true that your dad's a close friend of Han Gyogwan-nim?", Joon shares the same energy as he immediately nods excitedly. "Yeah! And you guys wanna know something?", he gathers everyone while leaning into the circle. Everyone does the same as he gossips, "I heard he used to have a wife before she left him", some chuckle while others look in disbelief, "how come? He's honestly kinda...", another person in the group, Jaehyun, chimes in. Insinuating that their instructor's good-looking which isn't entirely false. "I'm not quite sure", Joon backs away from the gathering, "something about not being able to get it up", now everyone's snickering, someone as intimidating as him, not being able to get hard? What a joke. Well, it sounds like a joke to you anyway. If he isn't able to get it up, how the fuck was he stuffing your mouth with cock and cum just a few months back?

Moving on from the first question, everyone gets a bit more comfortable now that Joon's revealed a secret of their oh so intimidating 'boss.' Hell, they don't even try to be quiet anymore, some talking in their normal voice and some even outright laughing loudly. Thankfully for everyone in the room, Han Minho isn't around to hear their loud noises.

It's been a couple rounds since the first. Everyone knows to be as quiet as possible while still having fun. "Spin it!", you nudge a guy next to you. Tae bends to spin the bottle in the middle of the circle. It spins for a bit before stopping at you. "[Name]! Truth or dare", he turns to ask you to which you confidently reply with "dare of course", with a cheeky grin. They all begin to discuss on what to dare you to do. "Go commando until tomorrow", as Tae says that, they all begin to laugh. To you, it's nothing major. You've done that a couple times in the past anyways, it's quite comfortable.

1:20AM...

2:41AM...

3:00AM.

Remembering you all have to wake up at 5 and also the fact that everyone's tired as shit, you along with the others head to bed and close the very dim light source, leaving the room almost pitch dark. You're so comfortable that in just seconds of closing your eyes, you fall into a deep sleep.

Maybe too deep of a sleep due to the fact you don't wake up in time for training. Nobody came in to fetch any of you which is quite strange to say the least but none of you minded due to the fact you're all catching up on some good old sleep. Even when it's already 5:20, not a single soul in that room is awake. Some are snoring, some are quiet, some even have their blankets thrown onto the ground. You're alnost sprawled out on the mattress with drool escaping from your mouth.

The ever so dark room is then pierced by the door opening. A tall figure appears at the doorway. The sudden light wakes up a few, with them rubbing their eyes and yawning as if they aren't 20 minutes late. "Hm? What time is it", your friend asks, still yawning and adjusting his eyes to see who it is that has woken them up. "Get. Up.", his eyes meets the glaring ones belonging to Han Minho. Their instructor. This immediately wakes them up, checking the time and seeing it's way past when they're supposed to get up. Even when they're still sleepy, they fight the urge to go back to bed and instead pick themselves up, practically sprinting outside, past Minho. Most of them went out. All but one [Name] who is still sleeping soundly, probably dreaming of...dirty things. Turning the dim lights on, the man steps closer and closer to your still sleeping figure. Your peaceful face contrasts his dissapointed and frustrated one. He pulls off your blanket roughly. Due to the fact you're having a wet dream and how you're not wearing any underwear, your erection can be seen clearly by the older man.

Not long after, lustful noises coming from you can be heard. 'Even in your dreams, you're still a horny bastard.', is what Minho thinks of. Though, he can't deny that your beautiful noises have made him hard. He still thinks of that incident every single day. Hell, he even jerks off to the thought of it every night. Without someone to satisfy his needs, he resorts to you and the thought of you.

God all he wants to do right now is flip you over and fuck you senseless but he must keep his composure as best he can. You're asleep afterall. Using his index finger and thumb, he reaches over to pinch your cheek, hard. This wakes you up almost immediately, it really hurted! "Ow ow!", you push his hand away as you open your eyes. Sitting up, you rub your cheek as your eyes try to focus and see who it was that did this to you. "Han Gyogwan-nim!?", you yell outloud, shocked at the man's presence. He shuts his eyes in annoyance. "Be quiet, you're going to alert the others", you look at him in confusion, "do you want me to help with your little problem over there?", he vaguely points at your 'problem'. You look at the direction he's pointing at and realizes you're hard...but so is he.

He notices as you oogle at his clothed cock which is straining against his pants. "How about we help each other out?", he suggests, putting a knee on the soft mattress. Eventually, he's in between your legs, face just inches away from yours. Blush covers your whole face. You don't know what to do. What could you do..?

His body slightly brushing your already hardened cock makes you even more tense and aroused. He presses his lips onto yours.

You instinctively put your hands on his shoulders, wanting to push him away but at the same time, melting into the kiss. You stay there, conflicted as his hands trail closer and closer to your pants. The only piece of clothing protecting your bare ass from the rough man. Just as you're getting used to this..position, the door almost swings open. With all your strength, you catch Minho off guard and shove him into your blanket. Thankfully for the both of you, by the way the door is facing, the large lump in your blanket isn't too noticeable, you can brush it off as you just sitting up.

Joon stands in the doorway, making a loud noise as he calls out for you, "[Name]! Quick! Didn't Han Gyogwan-nim come here to wake you up too!? We're going to be dead by the time we get to the training grounds!", he is about to approach you when you stop him. "Please sta—! aGH."

From inside your blanket, you can feel a certain man's fingers reaching their way into your boxer-less pants. Reaching behind and fondling; gropping your ass as it searches for your hole. You gasp at the action. In just a few seconds, his finger is already plunging itself into your tight hole. "[Name]..? Are you okay? Sick?", Joon asks with a worried look but also confused. You put your hand up to your mouth, muffling out any unintentional sound that might come out of your mouth. "U-uh..ye-yes, I am..", you agree with him. He sighs, "I'll inform Han Gyogwan-nim, eat the medicine over by the cabinet, he might might not agree to let you off scot free the next time you miss training..", little does he know, that 'Gyogwan-nim' is currently 2 fingers deep in your hole, twisting and turning inside you to find your prostate. You can only sit there and take it as you should. You really wsnt to bury your face into the pillow right now in order to properly conceal your facial expressions from Joon but that's not possible at the moment. One wrong move and who knows what Minho might do.

"Do you have a fever?", he steps closer once more, this time, too close for comfort. Coincidentally, at this moment, Minho finds your prostate, making you jerk in pleasure, "aH..!", you shut your eyes, biting on the inner part of your lip while stopping Joon with your hand. Signaling a stop with it. "Are you sure you're okay...? You're really weird right now man", "p-please give me some time...", you can barely hold in the noises you so badly want and need to let out. Joon eventually walks away with a weirded out look. He'll get over it soon.

The door closes behind Joon and you can feel Minho's fingers getting faster and faster. In and out of your hole, trying to get you to cum. You throw your head back, closing your eyes and finally letting out those moans Minho's been wanting to hear for so long. Though, just as you're about to cum, Minho stops as if he knew you would. Your breath hitches and you look back to face the man who has just removed his fingers out of you. His expression displays sadism. It's clear that he loves seeing you like this more than anything. "We can't have you cumming that fast now can we? It'll be no fun", he starts to remove his belt and then pants until he reaches his boxer. You can only watch him impatiently, wanting his cock deep inside you already and so does he.

Once his dick is freed from the clothing covering it, he wastes no time and flips you over on your belly. "Ass up", he commands and by whatever readon, your body feels compelled to do what's told. With your ass facing him, he plunges his fat cock into you. If it weren't for you pushing him a bit with your hand reaching back, it would have already gone deep inside you. Fortunately, it's only halfway there. He chuckles knowing his cock is too big for you to even handle. Neither one of you knows whether it'll fit or not. "Fuck..", he curses as he feels your hole squeezing his cock. Oh how long has he been waiting for this feeling. To be inside of you. He can't wait anymore. Even with you putting your whole strength into trying to keep him in place, he can overpower you quite easily. With a simple push, his cock slides in all the way in, balls deep. You can feel your eyes roll back, trying to form a coherent word. You've never taken anything this big before, especially not in your ass. Minho looks absolutely satisfied. Words can't explain the amount of pleasure he feels and will be feeling in a few seconds. "T-too big...", finally being able to talk just a few words, you state the obvious. You can even see his cock bulging just a bit above your belly button. It's too much.

"I'm going to move now", he immediately gets to it. Thrusting in and out, moving his hips. Your poor hole is sure to be thoroughly stretched after this. Your warn insides welcoming his cock by squeezing so tight, almost not wanting to let go. You don't contain your loud moans, letting them all out. It's like music to Minho's ears, to know you're enjoying every bit of it just like he is. He groans due to how tight you are. You bury your face into the pillow, trying to muffle the sound of moans due to it being the morning, not to mention the door being unlocked. If someone were to enter the door right now, they'd be face to face with you and your hole being stuffed full of cock.

The sound of skin slapping against skin is loud. Afterall, Minho is being extra rough with you. Maybe he's punishing you, or, he could be rewarding himself with you due to how long he's held back the urge to just pound you infront of everyone during training. His thrusts get faster and faster until you think it's inhumanly possible for him to be fucking you this hard. Your moans and yells are muffled by the soft pillow. One hand has a firm grip on your waist while the other gropes your ass, loving the feeling of your squishy and soft skin. "You love this don't you, [Name]", he chuckles in between breaths, a smirk on his face as he knows you can't reply. You can feel your mind go blank as he moves his hips. Your hands can only tightly hold the sheets and blanket next to you.

"Agh..Take my seed like a good boy..!", his voice shaky, clearly about to reach his limit. As he thrusts back in, his cum fills your insides. He stays there with his dick inside you as it pumps all his cum deep inside of your hole. At the same time, you also manage to cum, splurting all over the mattress. Coating the off white sheets with your thick cum. You pant, catching your breath, not able to process anything in your cock filled head. Minho places a hand over your stomach, holding you up and to make sure his cock is still inside as he leans down on your back, also trying to catch his own breath. "Good boy, you took me so well", you turn to look at him. His satisfied expression and even more satisfied cock.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"Everyone, listen up.", the manly voice commands the whole room. Everyone stands up straight, paying attention on the owner of said voice. "I will not tolerate anyone else being late. Once the clock hits 5AM, I expect all of you to already be here.", he walks around infront of the perfect lines. His gaze is sharp. He allows no room for jokes. You stand at the very front of one of the lines. Occasionally, his eyes meet yours. Everytime you do meet eyes, there's a slight smirk on his face. Unnoticeable by everyone but you. You can't just ignore it. The both of you know why he's in such a good mood.

"This is the last time I'll tolerate any of you being late. There will be severe consequences the next time someone is. Understood?", Minho glares at the crowd. "Understood!", they all say in unision. He nods in approval. "Very well then. Today, everyone will get more rest, and we will begin training tomorrow.", he dismisses the whole training, leaving everyone confused as he walks back into his office. Everyone looks around in astonishment. Tae and Joon immediately go up to you. "Are you feeling better? Thank the heavens Han Gyogwan-nim decided to be nice today. What's that about anyways???", Joon asks with a confused look, just like any other soldier in training.

"Why're you so tense?", Tae points out as you don't have time to answer Joon's questions. You avoid eye contact as it gets a bit awkward. How could you not be when you have so much cum inside of you right now? Cum which belongs to none other than Han Minho. This is your punishment, he wants to see how long you'll last before you come crawling to him again for more cock. "N-no reason!", "relax!", Tae pats you on the back. You accidentally unclench and feel his cum dripping down inside your long pants. Who knows, maybe someone will notice. Maybe that someone will be a certain instructor. You're in for a long day and night.

══════════════════════════════

I hope you all like him! I don't have a lot to say about this man since it's almost 4am for me and I need sleep...

Please dont mind typos/grammar mistakes, I didn't have enough time to check the whole thing cuz I wanted to release it before going to sleep🥲

#oc x reader #male reader #bottom male reader #oc x male reader #x male reader #original character #「 by the hands of xin 」#xin's han minho ☆

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acidinduceddaydreams · 6 months ago

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Skz ot8 corrupting reader౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

Synopsis: ot8 corrupting innocent crybaby reader slowly but surely.

Warnings: corruption kink; innocent reader being bullied in some parts by the members, dacryphilia but not really , deep throating of ice cream. Mean skz. Reader is not a child. She is an adult!!!

Part 2

Innocent reader who doesn’t like horror movies but watches it anyway because Hannie told her to.

The movie is not even halfway and your screams are already prevalent. You try to muffle your cries against Jeongin’s arm but he isn’t having it. “Stop crying you’re ruining my shirt.”

Seungmin making fun of you for crying and how you made Chan change the movie because you’re too scared. “Can you shut up now. Your whimpers are so fucking annoying.”

Minho who bullies you once you’re settled again into crying more because it secretly or not so secretly turns them on. “Wow! The crybaby finally shut up.” “Oh don’t get upset, you can’t help it if you’re a loser and a crybaby it’s just who you are.”

Felix who acts as if he’s calming you down from the taunting of your other friends when in reality he’s just trying to make it worse. His voice is low and condescending. “Leave the poor thing alone you guys.” “She’s just a baby trying to act like an adult, but don’t worry baby you don’t have to pretend with us.”

Hyunjin who buys ice cream for everyone on a hot summer day. Everyone else’s is in a cup or arch-shaped but yours just happens to be long and phallic shaped. Not that you even notice or would know what that means.

Changbin who ‘accidentally’ nudges your arm just a little as he goes to sit next to Hyunjin causing you to choke on the ice cream and let out a gagging sound along with coughing and glassy eyes having never had something go that deep before. “Sorry, pretty my arm slipped.”

Han who ‘helps’ you pick out clothing to wear when you go out with them. You’re standing in your closet picking out things you think he’d like. He tells you that he doesn’t mind you changing in front of him and that all friends do it. Not that you need much convincing you’re just too busy trying to look pretty. “Wow honey. You look wonderful in that sundress. Though I think it’s too long.”

Chan who has a hand on you wherever you go. Walking in a crowd? He’s holding your hand. Talking to someone? His hand on your waistline should give them the hint. You’re in your head about something? It’s ‘normal’ for friends to wrap their hands around each other’s throat to ground them.

Minho who heard from Hannie that you wear hello kitty, my melody and other childish underwear. Laughing as he mocks you. “Wow Y/n how old are you, huh?” “Do you want a pacifier while you’re at it.” He can’t help himself. Your voice trying to defend yourself is barely audible only coming out in whimpers. “Wow, kitten you do you know you have to grow up someday, right?”

Seungmin tugging on your two plaits whenever he wants. “Ow Minnie why’d you do that?” “Sorry puppy it’s a force of habit.”

Jeongin who puts a finger in your mouth to soothe you after all the tears. You’ve never needed to have something to stop you from crying but now it’s automatic. As soon as the tears fall you’re begging for his fingers or thumb. “you want my fingers in your mouth. Wow sweetheart you’re so silly. Do you know they have pacifiers for this exact situation? Maybe I should get you one to really shut you up hmm.” “No, you don’t want one? Well then that means you’ll just have to learn to stop talking back or you won’t even get my fingers.”

All of the boys who make fun of you for closing your eyes when a somewhat steamy scene comes on in the movie they purposefully picked but you don’t have to know that. Sitting on Minho’s lap covering your eyes does something to them. The scenes usually aren’t even that sexual. It’s usually just the two main characters kissing. Seungmin is obviously the first one to pipe up saying between laughs “Wow Y/n they’re just kissing.” “Yeah” Felix’s adds. “Would you like us to show you how so you’re not shy next time.”

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strayflowersstarsandlove · 8 months ago

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Dad!skz texts overload🥰🤍

Definitely been in a dad!skz brainrot lately so why no just give in a little more🙃 also you guys seem to like dad!han and dad!leeknow imagines a lot which makes me extremely happy I am so soft for them💖

ALSO WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE 1200K+ OF YOU READING ME ON HERE?? 😭😭

🖤hyung line🖤

🖤maknae line🖤

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tazahan · 2 months ago

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More delulu scenario interaction between Bi han and my OC part 7 (she discovered Lin Kuei's betrayal and their cyber initiatives in the middle of the night)

#mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #bi han sub zero #bi han #mk1 sub zero #mk1 oc #oc x canon #bi han x reader

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thewinter-eden · 9 days ago

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psycho | han jisung (7/20)

7 : the new girl

Pairings: HAN JISUNG x OC | LEE MINHO x 2nd OC

Rating: mature

cross posted on AO3 under the_winter_eden and wattpad under alone-at-last.

Warnings: discussions of murder, torture, rape.

psycho masterlist

< last chapter | next chapter >

note: for the last chapters, Cass's notes were supposed to be underlined and italicized and Minho's were just italicized but I guess that's not a thing with Tumblr so I'm adding tags to avoid confusion. Sorry about that.

There’s a commotion that Anna can hear all the way down the hall when Han comes to get her for evening meal. He’s finally got some color back in his cheeks, finally able to stand up a little straighter. It’s been nearly two weeks since Anna first cleaned up his stab wound. Two weeks since Sara stopped appearing at evening meal.

Han didn’t have to tell her the she had been killed that night.

They all knew.

When he comes to get her, surrounded by sounds of chatter, he offers her a shaky smile. It’s been the same routine ever since. Careful smiles, friendly touches, words of reassurance from both of them to each other.

She’s now one of the girls.

One of the girls that he holds and comforts in their worst moments, one of the girls that he looks after like his own sisters.

“Anna,” He greets her, pulling her door open. “How’s your arm?”

It’s still her most recent injury. Cain has left her alone to allow the bones to set a little before he starts in on her again, to exacerbate her wound when it’s safer to do so. As far as she can tell, he does his best not to break them too soon. It’s a strange system of scientific precision mixed with ungodly disregard for humanity.

She crawls out of bed with slow movements. “Hurts like hell.” She manages a weak smile. “But I don’t think it’s getting worse.”

He smiles back, and loops an arm around her waist to help her down the hall. He’s warm and stronger against her, a testimony to the evident healing that he’s somehow managing in the hellscape they’re all trapped in.

“And you?” She nods to his lower torso, and sees his right hand come up to hover over the wound.

“I’m cleaning it regularly, I promise.” Han gives her a little squeeze. “There’s something important, though.” He pulls them back, halting them before they get to the community room where all the conversation is coming from. He gestures with his chin. “There’s a new girl out there.”

Anna’s heart sinks. “What?”

It’s only been a little over a month since she was abducted. She’s still the new girl.

“How can there be a new one already?”

Han’s jaw clenches. “He killed two of his test subjects.” His eyes redden as he shoots her an awkward smile. “He doesn’t want to risk running out.”

“What a terrifying sentiment.” Anna swallows harshly and feels her stomach turn. “Is she okay? Was she hurt badly?”

He shakes his head. “I looked at her a little before I came to get you all. She has a few bruises but she seems alright. When she wakes up, she’ll be scared. Like you were.” His eyes are round and sincere as he watches her. “None of this works without everybody’s support.”

Anna nods slowly. “You’re asking me to reach out to her?”

He leans back a little, pulling them both a bit farther back into the hallway. “Look, when I first started this…everything was so much worse. The girls were surviving this on their own. They didn’t know each other, they never saw each other. They could hear each other, but that only made it worse, you know? They sat in their rooms, terrified, never knowing what was coming next, just to be dragged away and tortured whenever Cain chose.”

She listens, holding her breath. She thinks of Ruby, huddled in her bedroom, listening to the screams around her. Waiting in the dark, never released except to be strapped down to a chair and tortured by a madman.

“When we started this system,” He gestures to the group of girls that they can see huddled around someone in the middle of the room. “They were able to lean on each other. They were all going through the same thing, feeling the same fear, the same pain. And they started learning together. They shared information and figured out his schedule. They figured out his motives, his techniques. The older ones were able to warn the younger ones and give them support for what they would soon have to endure, and it got them through.” Han watches the group of girls with a terrible fondness in his eyes.

She feels her own well up with tears as she realizes how much he has done to help them all survive, at risk to his own safety. He’s brought them together to fight the terrible loneliness and abandonment they must have felt when they were on their own.

“You have to understand, Anna.” He whispers. “Before they got to build this support system together, there was a killing every week. Without each other, without being able to see behind the curtain, they did everything they could to block out the pain and it was literally killing them.”

She can imagine. If she thought she were alone down here, if she were just waiting in the dark in fear of the next torture session, she would probably be just as desperate to detach her mind from her surroundings in any way possible.

“You guys keep each other alive.” He tells her. “If you don’t take each other in, you don’t survive. Okay?”

She knows what he’s telling her.

This new girl needs all of them.

“And you?” Anna wonders. At his confused frown, she hurries on. “You do all of this for us. Does it help you survive, too?”

He chokes out a weak laugh and turns to grasp her by both shoulders. “I am trapped in this hell, watching my little brother die every single day.” A tear slips down his cheek and follows the trail of a thick scar beneath his eye. “Caring for all of you, seeing actual people every day…” His hands tremble as they squeeze her. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

She barely manages a smile.

“And that.” He adds, peering at her through his bangs. “I never thought I’d see any of you happy after what he does to you. But you all smile at me. And the way they hold me—and you looked after my injury—if you squint your eyes, it almost looks like some type of livable reality.”

Anna’s heart breaks. She’s standing in the hopeful grasp of a boy who’s every inch of skin has been marked and torn, who’s watched an unknown number of young girls die without rescue, and he’s holding on to their smiles.

He’s staring at her, pleading with her to open her arms and let the new girl in so that she has the same chance that the rest of them do. He’s waiting for her to assure him that she’ll do her part and lend some strength. “Anna?”

She gives him a smile, the first real one since she woke up on that filthy floor. “None of this works without you, Hannie.”

A gasp rasps down his throat and a trembling smile beams back at her.

pov : minho

“Her name is Josephine Brown. They call her Jo. She’s sixteen. If I can go talk to her friends and family, I might be able to figure out how and where she was taken from.” Officer Lee stands next to his partner in Captain Bang’s office with the latest report from Cass. “It sounds like she was abducted only last night—her parents probably don’t even know what’s happened yet.”

The captain looks between Minho and Seungmin, expression blank. “That’s not how this works, Lee.”

Seungmin glances to his partner, confused. “I’m sorry, sir, I was under the impression that this is exactly how this works.” You find a lead, you follow it, you learn everything you can. Basic template for casework.

Captain Bang leans forward in his chair and points between the two of them. “No, that’s not how this works. You chuckleheads are supposed to bring me the information you dig up, and I’m supposed to delegate the next steps. Not to you, put your hand down, Officer Kim. To the FBI. I have absolutely zero operational authority on this case, and if I allow you two to do anything beyond what you are already doing, I will be reprimanded. Harshly.”

When Minho’s eyes dare to roll, Captain Bang’s hand slams down loudly on his desk. “If I am reprimanded, that means that the two of you are reassigned—not with each other, by the way—and you will be forbidden—yes, forbidden—from ever contacting the unfortunate Miss Young ever again. So. I say again. That’s not how this works.”

He shuffles the latest round of notes into an envelope. “I will run this up the chain. If you two behave, I will do you the courtesy of updating you on the FBI’s decision. Please do not make me regret my kindness.”

Minho can’t hold his tongue any longer. “Sir—”

Bang holds up a staying hand. “Neither of you are necessary to this operation, Officer Lee. I would be more than happy to recommend that a gussied up federal agent be assigned to slosh around in the sewer and maintain contact with our victim instead of sitting here knowing that two of my patrol officers are not actually patrolling.”

Seungmin takes offense. “Sir—”

“For the love of god, both of you get out of my office.”

Minho: Do you need more painkillers?

Cass: Always. Do you have anything stronger?

Minho: Not at the moment but I’ll see what I can do.

He makes a note to talk to Bang about working out some way to get actual prescription medicine and antibiotics to treat the girl’s wounds. Immediately following the irritated dismissal from the boss’s office doesn’t seem like the best time to make such a difficult request.

“Does she want chocolate?” Seungmin tiptoes through the sewer tunnel behind him, holding three unopened Hershey bars. “Felix just gave these to me, and I hate milk chocolate, so if she wants them—I mean, how worried can she be about cavities at this point?”

Minho scowls at him but immediately begins affixing the chocolate bars to the twine. He lowers them carefully through the hole in the floor, along with a note reading, ‘from my friend Seungmin. You can send the wrappers back up.’

When the twine comes back up, the candy is gone, but there’s a response on the note. ‘This feels like Christmas. Thank Seungmin for me. Does he have five more?’

Seungmin says nothing, merely turns on his heel and bolts back up the ladder.

Minho: Chocolate on its way.

Cass: Thanks, Santa.

Minho: Seungmin’s Santa. I’m just a helper.

Cass: Do you have a red nose?

Minho: Only when I have hay fever.

Cass: What about when you don’t?

Minho: I don’t understand the question.

Cass: What do you look like when you don’t have hay fever?

She’s grasping at distractions from real life, but it’s the first time she’s asked him what he looks like. He knows she has dark brown hair and light brown eyes, and that people say her face looks like Katherine Hepburn. He knows she’s five-foot-three, and that she used to think she was kind of pretty but now she thinks she looks like a skeleton wrapped in skin. On top of everything he’s heard from her directly, he’s seen her missing persons photo.

He knows what she looks like, but she wouldn’t recognize him if he fell through the ceiling on top of her. She doesn’t even know he’s a cop.

Minho: I look like any sleep deprived college student.

Cass: A cute sleep deprived college student?

He can’t help a laugh at that. He hears Seungmin coming down the ladder and quickly scribbles back a response to send down before his partner can see.

Minho: I’d say my cats find me rather strapping.

Cass: I knew you’d be a cat person.

Minho tucks the piece of paper into his pocket and tears off a new one from his notepad just as Seungmin reaches him.

“Five more chocolate bars, as requested.” He produces the candy and helps Minho attach them to the twine, and then borrows the pen and paper and writes his own message for the first time.

Seungmin: Hope you like them. There’s always more. -S

Cass: You’re our hero, Santa.

Seungmin’s face breaks out in a huge smile and he chuckles as he reads the note. He’s already given the pen back, so he says, “Tell her I’ll bring them anything they want.”

Minho understands the feeling. After being prevented from doing anything that can actually help Cain Roberts’ victims, every little thing that they can do feels like the most achievable and desirable goal in the world. He pens the note as requested and sends it down, receiving an answer and a single chocolate wrapper in return.

Cass: The largest army you can find. Barring that, maybe some fruit.

Seungmin doesn’t need any convincing.

Minho: I have black hair, brown eyes, and I’ve been told that my features must have been carved by Leonardo Da Vinci.

Cass: Oh, and he’s humble, too.

Minho: I figure you can only take my word for it, so I might as well be my own wingman.

He doesn’t share these notes with Captain Bang. Some of the messages between himself and Cass are for himself and Cass alone, which is not something he ever saw coming the first time he lowered a piece of twine into that mysterious void.

When she has relatively good days, she’s flirty and inquisitive and desperate for human interaction, and he finds himself following every cue she sends. It’s the least he can do if he can’t free her from Cain’s trap.

As the days and weeks go by and he reads about the horrors she endures, he finds that his heart breaks for her. He no longer sympathizes as a police officer learning of an innocent civilian undergoing cruel hardship, but as someone who wishes to save a friend from suffering.

So when she’s well enough to write up topics of conversation that don’t revolve around captivity, he latches on and keeps it going as long as her time allows.

This time, it’s Captain Bang who calls Minho and Seungmin into his office. His expression is bleak as he beckons for them both to sit and offers them coffee to fight the chill of fall.

They both refuse, so he folds his hands atop his desk and settles in with a hefty sigh. “Alright, look. I don’t want to tell you this any more than either of you want to hear it.” His palm comes to rest on top of a pile of envelopes that Minho recognizes as the ones which hold all of his notes to and from Cass.

“The judge has placed a moratorium on the Cain Roberts case. It’s a cease and desist order.” Bang purses his lips as he anticipates the outrage that will surely come from his two most hotheaded officers.

It never comes.

He looks up, confused.

Minho is gritting his teeth at the floor, veins pulsing in his temples, and Seungmin is leaning back in his chair with a wry laugh on his lips. Neither of them are surprised at the news.

“You don’t even know why.” Bang mutters.

“Does it matter?” Seungmin grumbles. “We haven’t been allowed to do anything so far. All I’m hearing is ‘keep doing nothing’.”

Captain Bang sighs again. “There is more happening here than just a handful of kidnappings and the occasional murder. I don’t mean that the way it sounds. I am not discounting the severity of this situation, I am presenting this to you the way the judge presented it to me.”

Minho is moments away from throwing down his badge and marching out, but he just rolls his shoulders back and narrows his eyes.

“Cain Roberts is part of a larger syndicate that the FBI has been trying to track down and dismantle for a number of years. There isn’t much I’m allowed to tell you, except that it is imperative that he remain free to operate without suspicion so that their investigation can continue. He is a crucial piece of a much larger puzzle, and if we book him for crimes that he commits in his—quite frankly—downtime, we lose the biggest opportunity we have to stop a much larger danger.” Captain Bang sucks his teeth. “I’m sorry, boys. For now, all we can do is what we’re doing.”

Minho leaves without dismissal.

He doffs his uniform in the locker room and heads across town to campus, seeking the wisdom of his professors.

#horror #skz #fanfic #stray kids #skz x oc #han jisung #han jisung x oc #lee know x oc #han x oc #lee know #psycho #psycho han jisung #ao3 #thewintereden

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jinnie-ret · 11 months ago

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ep.5: the honeymoons

ratings: fluff, some angst

warnings: none

running time: 1.6k words

summary: we see the first batch of couples go on their honeymoons. is love still in the air?

SKZ MAFS EPISODE LIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

chan and rori

location: budapest

"I've always wanted to travel," Rori grinned, feeling peaceful as she gazed across the city, night lights twinkling and night life buzzing.

"You've not been around Europe before? I thought most brits would end up going around Europe because it's so convenient," Chan hummed in thought, his head resting on her shoulder as he hugged her from behind, arms wrapped around Rori's waist.

The two of them had grown close very quickly, already having taken things to the next level. Rori trusted him, and him, her.

"Well, South Korea was a chance I took and I love it. But when I had Oliver, it kind of threw a spanner in the works, so I didn't get the chance to," Rori stroked Chan's hands that involuntarily hugged her tighter as he laughed.

"A good spanner though!" Chan giggled, making the silly comment as he remembered the cute kid that had definitely surprised him on his wedding day, but made him that more excited for their new adventure together.

The day had ended perfectly, after going around and seeing the sights, Hero's Square and Fisherman's Bastion, and now taking in the beautiful city. Of course, there were drunk people in their twenties stumbling down the street together, shouting the words to a song Rori was sure she would have recognised if it had been sung soberly. A piece of her wished maybe she could have had more time in those years, to be recklessx to have fun. She was worried she'd never have that feeling again. But Chan have that to her, he made her feel alive.

"I can't believe how lucky I've gotten, Chan is just so... he gives me butterflies. I can't remember the last time I felt that way," Rori tucked some of her ginger hair behind her ear.

jeongin and dallas

location: mt. fuji

Jeongin and Dallas had finally made it to Mountain Fuji, sharing stories to each other about things they had achieved in their lives and what they wanted to do in the future. Sweetly they had held each other's hands the whole journey there, that small sense of affection and comfort whilst getting to know each other bringing them closer together already. And even as they exited the car together, they never let go of each other, until Dallas was so excited at the gorgeous colours of the flower festival in the clearing of the mountain.

"Ahhh! It's gorgeous! Wow, I just wish we had this back home! This is stunning I can't cope!" Dallas squealed, leaning over the fence and trying to comprehend all the glorious hues of purple, lavender, lilac and magenta intertwining into something she thought she could only dream of.

"You're really excited aren't you?" Jeongin laughed fondly, his wife, yes, he couldn't believe it, his wife, making him happy, her excitement spreading so easily.

"Duh! This is likely my dream, my life," Dallas grinned in astonishment, dropping his hand to run forwards along other paths to take in the sights even more.

They had a great day, and of course got some cute photos with each other, marking the day an amazing one. It was certainly one of the best days of Dallas' life, and Jeongin enjoyed himself too, content in wandering around and taking in nature. Amongst the other things they had done during their honeymoon, this certainly topped it, so it was a shame the day came to a close with a slightly bitter feeling.

"You're so cute, Dallas," Jeongin chuckled from his spot in bed, stretched with his arm around her, cosily nestled in his arms.

"Me? Nah... I think you were the one who's head was in the clouds, wearing that grin all day. That smile will be the death of me, Yang Jeongin," Dallas exclaimed, hand lightly smacking his stomach to emphasise her point.

"If my head was in the clouds then yours was all over the place, haha, you were like an excited child, you remind of the kids I teach," Jeongin chuckled once more, hand going to stroke her hair out of her face but Dallas had already sat up.

"I'm going to make us some tea," Dallas kept a smile on her face and went into the kitchen, Jeongin being none the wiser about how his words had affected her.

"I don't get why he had to say that last bit... like I get it, I can be quite energetic, like I give a lot of energy into the things I love. But I've been told before that I remind people of a child and it feels sort of... patronising? I don't know... it just felt- it didn't feel nice. He's my husband, I shouldn't feel this way..." Dallas rambled as she explained to the camera away from Jeongin, reflecting on the day they had had.

Hopefully they'd be able to squash this in the future.

jisung and valentina

location: new york

"We had such a good day yesterday and now he's all closed off, he won't come out of bed. I thought we'd be doing more with our honeymoon, but, I guess not?" Valentina sighed as she spoke to the camera.

Jisung felt overwhelmed to say the least. He was tired from the flight to New York, but tried his best to keep his energy up during their first day going sightseeing. And everything seemed fine to Valentina. Oh, Valentina. Jisung really was trying his best, he suddenly felt this big responsibility. He had never been in a relationship before, and now he was someone's husband. He had a wife. He knew what he was getting into but he still likes having time to himself, and that was why he was relaxing in bed, scrolling through his phone, having down time like he normally would. But Valentina was there, trying to encourage him to go somewhere with her and do something.

"Ji, you wanna go out for dinner at least?" Valentina sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter in their hotel suite.

"I feel bad. I feel like I'm letting her down already. She's so amazing and, I feel worried that I'm not going to be the man she really needs," Jisung stammered, having his own moment to talk on his own.

But, he took a step and agreed in having dinner. They went to a luxurious restaurant, a top rated one that served mouthwatering gourmet burgers.

"Now this, I can get into this," Valentina let out a breath in delight. Not only was the burger looking delicious, but it gave a break from the sudden awkward small talk that her and Jisung had been contending with.

"I'm sorry," Jisung suddenly said, after swallowing down a mouthful of his burger. Miraculously, they had ordered the same thing, having similar tastes in their preferred cuisine and flavours.

"Hmm?" Valentina delicately wiped her mouth before speaking, "what for?" She had an inkling, but she wanted to hear from him first.

"I know you wanted more, I just, I'm quite a homebody? And I'm really trying to get used to this lifestyle, this..."

"Married life?"

"Not even that, just being able to spend time with someone constantly," Jisung glanced away, taking a sip of his cocktail.

"I'll be real with you, I was sort of upset at first, but I didn't know that about you yet. I didn't know you needed that space to yourself so, it's ok. We'll work through it together, ok?" Valentina reassured him once again, pushing away the thoughts she had before, and putting herself in his shoes.

She was a party animal at heart. She just had to bring out that more confident and energetic side to her husband, and she was willing to do that.

hyunjin and sienna

location: rome

"This all feels like a dream," Sienna marveled at the sights of Rome, swinging her arm with Hyunjin's as they wandered around the city.

"It's not a dream, baby, it's real," Hyunjin earnestly reminded her, pulling her in a different direction as they wandered around some markets, looking for a bite to eat.

"I never thought I'd get to live this," Sienna added on, still in denial.

"Well stop thinking that, ok? Seriously, I'm going to make sure you're happy every day," Hyunjin stopped in his tracks, gazing into her eyes before kissing her on the forehead.

Soon they found somewhere to eat, a quiet restaurant being decided when they couldn't pick from the market.

"Let's get spaghetti and meatballs," Hyunjin smirked, kicking Sienna's foot lightly underneath the table.

"Why so sly about food?" Sienna rose an eyebrow, her accent coming through stronger as she stared at her husband in confusion.

"No reason, just taking inspiration from a certain film..." Hyunjin nodded smugly to himself as he ordered them their food.

And once it arrived, it all clicked.

"Why only one plate... Hyunjin..." Sienna facepalmed, Hyunjin instantly bursting into giggles.

"Have you realised, baby?" Hyunjin cooed as he leant forward.

"We are not lady and the tramping this lunch," Sienna folded her arms, but she too started laughing as she couldn't resist his loving expression.

They exited the restaurant, a blush on Sienna's face after Hyunjin whispered something in her ear.

"He's so romantic. And I'm not used to that. I love it. Just maybe not the sharing food part. I need my own food," Sienna deadpanned into the camera, before huffing out a laugh.

<-- previous ep watch next ep -->

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

viewers: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @jyu-037 @keen-li @strawberry31 @5starlee @thatonedemigodfromseoul @amararosesblog @noyurcapri

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dilfkillerr · 3 months ago

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˚✧ ₊˚ʚ 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓫𝓸𝓽𝓼 — 𝓳𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓽𝓸𝓻 𝓪.𝓲

♡┊𝓣𝓦: 𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓫𝓪𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮

❥ Sugar Daddy || Nanami Kento — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 He wanted a traditional romance, but finding you in a night of sexual frustration... Maybe he had found what he was looking for.

❥ Carlos Oliveira — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 After the worldwide contamination, Carlos was the only one left to contain the city's zombies - however, you had also survived and now, he needed to convince you to stay with him at the base.

❥ Kratos || God of War — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Maybe he started to feel something more for you... And it was strange for him to feel emotions other than anger and hate.

❥ Freak || Joe Mayhem — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 A government experiment gone wrong when they tried to create a perfect war soldier – giving rise to Joe, a man who was pure chaos. Yet you seemed to attract him somehow... And now you had a "scary dog" to guard you.

❥ Scorpion || Kuai Liang — 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Oh no... It's his wedding...

❥ Mafia Stepdad || Klaus Morgan — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 He married your mother to cover up the crimes, but at the same time he saw something that interested him a lot in this marriage by adhesion... You.

❥ Nanami Kento — 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 You had a promising future as a sorcerer, but you gave it all up to go to Geto's side — and now your former tutor needed to stop you.

❥ Detective coworker || Hermes Charles [FTM BOT] — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Your coworker was a tired and hot dilf, in dire need of getting fucked... And you seemed great for that role and especially for fucking his pussy until he forgot about his problems – However he found himself with more intense feelings for you.

❥ Enemy || Félix Ludwig — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 His hatred was a thick shell that covered an unresolved love; and now he had the opportunity to have you in his hands... Or rather, on his feet.

❥ Alpha cellmate || Reiji Kaito — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 You were the only omega in prison, and luckily, you ended up in the cell of an Alpha who would protect you during your heat.

❥ Femdom || Roxie Katherine — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 She loved turning men like you into beautiful princesses...

❥ Rich Husband || Alex Ludwig — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Everyone thought you only married him because of his money — but he knew you really loved him.

❥ Bestfriend || Hari Raj — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Your boyfriend dumped you and now your best friend wants to show the jerk what he's been missing...

❥ Bi Han || Sub Zero — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 He didn't expect the surprise when he lowered his clothes, but it was a pleasant surprise...

❥ Husband || Miguel O'Hara — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Your kind husband had a baby fever and urgently needed to get you pregnant...

❥ Bi Han || Sub Zero — 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 night company...

❥ Ghost || Simon Riley — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 you were curious and he let you touch him...

❥ Bi Han || Sub Zero — 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 His brother didn't want you, but he did.

❥ Radioactive || Simon Ghost — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Was he still the same?

❥ Scorpion || Kuai Liang — 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Temptations

❥ Hades || Simon Ghost — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 The god of the underworld fell in love with you, and with that, the best way for him to keep you was to kidnap you for himself — Persephone {{user}} x Hades Simon.

❥ Dom. Caregiver || Eric Blair — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 It was supposed to be a platonic contract, until he started to feel something more for you...

❥ Sadistic Guardian Angel || Ciel Melchior — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 After you became very ill after a near-death experience, you received mystical protection from a guardian angel — however little did you know that he only liked to see you suffer.

❥ Stepdad || Nanami Kento — 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Nanami had always noticed your attempts to be more than his stepson, and now, after that fateful accident – he needed to put an end to your illusory desires.

❥ Noob Saibot — 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 Together in khaos

❥ ALT Stepdad || Simon Ghost' — 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 You end up having sex with your stepdad as a birthday present || alt version ||

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atolua · 2 years ago

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𖥻 YUEHUA ˒ 𝐞𝐭𝐚. spring of 2023

EDITION .. shout out to mama zhang; thank you to papa zhang!

FEATURING .. lua’s teezers ˚ inka cherinsuk ˚ han jisung

CW(S) .. suspicious behavior from the boyfie, inka collects blackmail material & existence of cake and twister

MONA SAYS .. sobs bc i posted this a week too early so pretend you haven’t seen this

at this moment in time, lua is craving for her bed. it can’t be helped; three hours of dance practice really wears a person out. and while the dinner that the girls treated her to was lovely, it barely pulled her energy up.

(but her tummy was happy so she supposes it did do something.)

“thanks for dropping me off,” she tells her manager before stepping out of the car.

while walking to the dorm, she rummages through her bag for her phone. a bit of lua hopes that she finally got a text back from her boyfriend, but it’s crushed by the lack of notifications.

tsk, there goes the rise of her suspicions.

it’s a rarity for jisung to leave her on seen. even when he’s in producer mode, he always sends at least a heart or a selfie.

lua shakes her head, dispelling those thoughts in favor of opening the door to her dorm. not even a foot in and she already feels wary because when has the place ever been this quiet?

is it already that late? she checks the time on her watch—kind of, but there’s usually at least one member who’s trying to keep their keyboard pressing to a minimum volume.

did they go somewhere? no, they’d shoot her a message if they did.. so what the fuck is going on?

“star? min? anyone home?” she cautiously calls out while walking down the hallway. with one hand tightly clutching onto her bag, lua turns toward the living room and blindly searches for the light switch. “i swear it was just here yesterday—”

“surprise!”

the sudden yells elicit the orange haired girl to jump back and drop her bag. when she comes down from her shock, she finally absorbs the scene: her members stand there with wide smiles on their face, party hats atop of their heads, and a red velvet cake in jongho’s hands.

and the best part? they have company.

“inka!” lua throws her arms around her best friend, pulling her in a tight embrace. (it doesn’t matter if she just saw the younger female a couple weeks ago, she still missed her a lot.)

out of the corner of her peripheral view, she sees jisung pouting, arms open wide. “hey.. what about me?”

“wait your turn, it’s not my fault yue loves me more.” inka playfully gloats, causing a river of chuckles to flow through the group.

wooyoung, never the recipient of best in assurance award for a reason, pats the sulking boy’s shoulder and tells him, “you’ll get used to it. we did after frequently hearing her fangirl over sunmi-sunbaenim.”

“don’t forget that for this past month, it’s been hourglass-sunbaenim.”

(yeosang’s another one who has never won that award.)

“alright, that’s enough tattling.” is what lua says once she finally pulls away from her best friend. “so what’s the cake for?”

“to celebrate your birthday, silly!” wooyoung cheers, his antics supported by mingi’s clapping.

“wait, it’s my what?”

this time, seonghwa speaks up. “today’s your birthday. did you not realize that?”

“..no?”

“well i guess we can consider this surprise a success. happy birthday, moonlight.” the eldest male gives her a small hug before stepping back to let san put a party hat on her, along with a greeting. “happy birthday, bambi.”

she pulls him in for a hug too and mumbles, “thank you, sannie.”

the party commences from there. after lua had blown out the candle on her cake (and got icing smeared on her face, courtesy of jisung and wooyoung, who got the same treatment) everyone had scattered across the living room. some were enjoying a slice of cake, a couple were arranging the gifts that had been hidden in the spare room, and others were chatting with the birthday girl.

“so this is why you seenzoned me, hm?” she teases her boyfriend who splutters, the apples of cheeks slowly blossoming into a rosy tint.

yunho laughs at the sight and inputs, “it was quite the scene, he was panicking so much that he almost dropped his phone.“

“i just didn’t wanna ruin the surprise..” jisung weakly defends himself before deciding that hiding his face in the crook of his girlfriend’s neck will save him.

(judging by the keep it pg guys! that wooyoung throws at them, it does the opposite. though the remark yeosang slides in on their behalf kind of soothes the embarrassment.)

everyone appears to be having fun, they’re seemingly enjoying themselves, especially due to seonghwa pulling out the twister game.

“when did hwa even purchase that toy?” she whispers to hongjoong who shrugs his shoulders. “i think we should be more worried about what will happen if mingi has to put a hand or foot on the red circle.”

sure enough, the blonde giant decides to forfeit rather than risk the chance of ripping his favourite joggers.

but lua doesn’t watch much more after that, not when she notices someone missing from all the fun. so after giving her slice to hongjoong, she heads over to the dining table, where inka sits all by herself.

“knock knock~” she raps her knuckles on the surface before taking the seat next to her. noting the small jolt in the younger, lua lightly jokes, “i’m no telepath but i feel like you have something you’d like to tell me.”

inka gives her a small smile. “i was just thinking of how grateful i am that you came to train at jyp. accidentally walking into that practice room was a blessing, and i’m not ever going to take it for granted; not when it gave me you. it doesn’t matter what else life decides to throw at us, i’m always going to be here for you, and i have faith that you’ll do the same for me.”

lua tugs at the sleeves of her cropped cardigan to wipe the tears that fall from her eyes. then she takes her best friend’s hands in hers and promises, “regardless of what happens, or where we find ourselves in the future, i’ll never stop supporting you.”

she quickly swipes away inka’s tears, aware that she doesn’t want the others to see, and pulls her in for another embrace. her hand gently caresses her back, a gesture she’d always do whenever she wanted to comfort her, but didn’t know what words to use.

they stay like that for a little longer before jisung yells out, “i won!”

the two girls decide to vacate the dining room and watch the winner be congratulated by his rivals. seeing as how they didn’t really have a prize, hongjoong concocts an impromptu reward and whispers it to seonghwa.

the older member seems to agree with it, for he smirks slightly. “and now, you shall get a kiss from the birthday girl.”

“huh? but is she okay with that? i mean yeah- yes she is my girlfriend but-” a kiss on the cheeks is all it takes for the blushing male to malfunction.

a click rings through the room, followed by inka mumbling, “saving that for future confidential purposes.”

laughter follows suit again. “alright, next round. winner gets a hug from the birthday girl!“ hongjoong announces, shortly sticking his tongue out at the light smack lua delivers to his arm.

at this moment in time, all lua craves is to have this.. night (or is it considered day?) captured in her memories. because moments like these have energy surging through her body.

and those ten people, the ones who try to keep their balance while intentionally bumping each other, a couple merely spectating while eating cake, plus the one sitting next to her with his hand entwined with hers?

they are one of the reasons she doesn’t regret choosing this life.

❑ TAGLIST .. @stealanity @ateezivy @cixrosie @alixnsuperstxr

#୫ ⋄ … ot9 ˖ better an oops than a what if #୫ ⋄ … cupid ˖ better an oops than a what if #୫ ⋄ … inkalua ˖ better an oops than a what if #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez 9th member #ateez additional member #ateez addition #kpop addition #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #ateez x oc #stray kids x oc #skz x oc #han jisung x oc #han x oc #oc x oc

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hansama · 1 year ago

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Day 4 - Free Space

he's soooooo romantic & considerate... he saved the best seat for me....

@sansxyouweek

#undertale #horrortale #sans #horrortale sans #han #oc #han x skellie #you know what i mean right #thank you hubby for saving a seat for me #gotta love my skelebaes destroying the furniture #one at a time...#sansxyouweek2023 #Sans x you #Oc x canon

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estellan0vella · 2 months ago

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Strawberries And Heaven: H.JS Han Jisung x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 9.8K

CW: Simp Jisung (he's down bad), wingman Minho, wingman SKZ, Minho being a menace (standard), mention of masturbation General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist Part II

The corridor smells faintly of disinfectant and coffee, a mix of sterile campus life and caffeine dependency that permeates Miroh College. It's Thursday afternoon, and that means two things: Jisung has Criminal Psychology at 3:00 p.m., and he's about to see you. The one girl who somehow, against all odds, has managed to drag him to this godforsaken lecture hall every week without fail.

Jisung shifts the strap of his backpack, pulling his black beanie down a bit further as he turns to his left and sees Minho, his best friend and self-proclaimed emotional support stalker, walking along beside him. Minho glances at him, rolling his eyes as they weave through the crowd of students lingering in the halls.

"Are you sure you have to come?" Jisung mutters, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. "It's one class. I don't need babysitting."

Minho snorts, adjusting his own baggy jeans that hang over his black boots. "Are you kidding? I have to see this so-called 'angel' who's got you dragging your ass to a lecture you'd usually skip. You've actually gone soft, dude."

Jisung rolls his eyes, tugging his beanie lower to hide the faint blush that creeps up his neck. "Soft? Fuck you, man. You don't understand. I can't just talk to her."

"Oh, right. You're so experienced with, what was it, every other girl on campus, but when it's this one? You're hopeless. Just go up and introduce yourself. You're good at that. Aren't you the guy who once convinced a chick to lend you her psychology notes with a wink and a compliment?"

"Just tell me you want me to die of embarrassment," Jisung says flatly. "Look, it's different. She smells like strawberries and—" He waves his hand vaguely, struggling to find the right words. "I dunno, heaven?"

Minho stops dead in his tracks, eyebrows raised. "Strawberries and heaven? Jesus Christ, Jisung. You're in deep, aren't you?"

"Shut up," Jisung grumbles, leading them into the lecture hall and gesturing to the seats at the back. "Just keep it quiet, yeah? She's probably already here."

Minho follows, his grin almost wicked as he surveys the room from their vantage point in the back row. "I bet she's not here yet. Relax. You look like you're gonna puke."

"Thanks, man. Real encouraging," Jisung mutters, slumping down in his seat and folding his arms over his chest. His leg bounces slightly as he waits, eyeing the clock that ticks towards 3:00.

The door to the lecture hall creaks open, and just like that, you walk in, casually strolling to her usual seat two rows ahead.

Jisung freezes, his gaze locked on her as you move, the clinking sound of your silver rings faintly audible you brush a strand of hair back. You are wearing faded, low-rise mom jeans that fit you perfectly, a white camisole with lace hems, and a shell-shaped clip holding your hair up in a messy twist. And those hoop earrings, the big silver ones that seem to catch the light just right, make your whole look glow.

Minho follows Jisung's stare and lets out a low whistle. "Damn. So, this is her, huh? I'll give it to you. She's hot. Definitely too hot for you."

Jisung's elbow shoots out instinctively, landing in Minho's thigh with a satisfying thud.

"Ow, fuck! Jesus," Minho bites back a groan, clutching his leg as he glares at Jisung. "What the fuck, man?"

"Keep it down, jackass," Jisung mutters under his breath, trying not to draw attention. "You weren't even supposed to be here, remember? You're a vet major, go learn about cats or something."

Minho's laughter is barely muffled as he holds his leg. "Nah, you're not getting rid of me that easy. I need to see you crash and burn, maybe. Or, if you manage to pull this off, I get to witness a miracle."

"Don't you have a dog to neuter?" Jisung hisses, but Minho just grins and leans back, crossing his arms.

The professor begins setting up, shuffling through notes and connecting the laptop to the projector, while you settle in your seat. Jisung can barely breathe as your scent drifts back towards him. Strawberries. Damn it. Every time, it's like he's being hypnotized.

"See?" Jisung whispers, nudging Minho. "Strawberries and heaven. I swear."

Minho just smirks, leaning closer to Jisung. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. You're totally whipped. She hasn't even looked your way once, has she?"

Jisung slumps, his gaze locked onto the back of your head. The seashell clip is pearly and white, almost glowing against your hair. His leg starts bouncing again.

Minho shakes his head. "Dude, seriously, just say something. You're acting like she's a unicorn or some shit. She's just a girl."

"She's not just a girl," Jisung snaps quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You wouldn't get it, okay? Look at her. She's different."

"Different how?" Minho raises an eyebrow, still whispering. "She dresses like she's straight out of a 90s rom-com."

"Exactly!" Jisung says, eyes lighting up. "She's, like, a 90s dream. She's cool. And she's smart and beautiful. She's my 90s dream girl"

As if on cue, you shift slightly in your seat, glancing down at your notebook, fingers tracing over the page absently as you twist one of your rings.

"Look at her, man," Jisung breathes, sounding almost dazed. "She's right there."

Minho watches him, clearly unimpressed. "You're fucked."

"Thanks, Minho," Jisung mutters sarcastically, but he can't keep the nervous excitement out of his voice. "Look, can you just chill? I'm this close to getting her attention."

"By doing what, exactly?" Minho scoffs. "Staring at the back of her head and hoping she telepathically realizes you're in love with her?"

"Dude, shut up!" Jisung hisses, but his cheeks flush, and he slinks down in his seat, trying to keep a low profile. He watches as you tap your pen absently against your notebook, seemingly unaware of the small, stifled chaos unfolding behind you.

"Right," Minho mutters, trying to keep a straight face. "When you're done writing sonnets about her scent and staring at her hair clip, let me know if you plan on actually talking to her."

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up," Jisung grumbles, but his eyes flick back to you, lingering.

Minho glances at Jisung, a mischievous glint in his eye, and without warning, snatches Jisung's pencil case from the desk, stuffing it into his own bag before Jisung can react.

"Dude, what the—" Jisung starts, reaching to grab it back, but Minho holds up a finger, silencing him.

"Trust me, you'll thank me later," Minho whispers, leaning forward until he's right behind you.

With a quick tap on your shoulder, he flashes you his most charming smile as you turn around, your expression polite albeit a little surprised.

"Hi," Minho says smoothly, "Sorry to bother you, but my dumbass friend here totally forgot his pens and stuff. You wouldn't happen to have a couple to lend us, would you?"

You blink at Minho, then at Jisung, who's sitting with a wide-eyed, slightly mortified look, glaring daggers at his so-called friend.

But you're unfazed, a warm smile spreading across your face as you nod. "Oh, yeah, sure! Here." You dig into your bag and pull out two pens, holding them out to Minho with a little laugh. "Good thing I always over-pack."

Minho takes the pens with a wink. "Now, aren't you just the sweetest?" He flashes another grin. "I'm Minho, by the way. And you are?"

"Y/N," you say, a soft smile playing on your lips. You turn back in your seat but hesitate, glancing back at Minho with a curious look. "I don't think I've seen you in here before."

Minho leans back, adopting an air of nonchalance. "That's 'cause I'm just auditing today. Thought I'd check out what my good buddy here's been raving about." He gestures towards Jisung, who's trying to look anywhere but at you. "I'm minoring in animal behaviour, and apparently, you're discussing the nature versus nurture argument today? I figured I'd see how you forensic folks tackle it compared to my animal kingdom friends."

You nod, genuinely interested. "Yeah, today's lecture is about the developmental aspects of criminal psychology. It's fascinating, really. Some parts overlap with animal behaviour when you consider instinctual behaviours. It's cool to see how psychology adapts across disciplines."

"Right?" Minho nods enthusiastically, playing it up. "But my good buddy here," he places a firm hand on Jisung's shoulder, and Jisung finally meets your eyes, looking equal parts shy and frustrated. "This is Jisung. The one who seems to have forgotten basic lecture etiquette and all his own pens."

You turn to Jisung, your smile soft. "I know. We've had this class together since the start of the semester."

Jisung's eyes widen. "You know?"

You nod, pointing subtly at the front of his notebook, where his name is scrawled in black ink. "Yeah, your name's on your notebook. Hard to miss, honestly."

Jisung's cheeks redden, and Minho has to press his lips together to keep from laughing at his friend's reaction. He shoots Jisung a sidelong glance, a smirk dancing on his face.

Turning back around, you give a small smile, "Anyway, enjoy the lecture, guys."

As soon as you're facing forward, Minho leans in close to Jisung, whispering, "She's acknowledged your existence, man. You're welcome."

Jisung clenches his fists, shooting a fierce glare at Minho before delivering a swift punch to his thigh, harder than before.

"Fuck!" Minho barely contains his yelp, face contorting in pain as he clutches his leg. "Dude, what the fuck?"

"Keep your voice down," Jisung mutters, his face still flushed. "And don't ever pull something like that again, you asshole."

Minho smirks through the pain, rubbing his leg. "Oh, come on. You should be thanking me. You didn't exactly look like you had the guts to make a move yourself."

"I don't need you meddling, okay?" Jisung hisses. He glances at you again, a bit more emboldened now, seeing you jotting notes, completely absorbed in the lecture. He feels a weird thrill knowing that you know who he is. That you remember his name. She knows my name, he repeats in his head, almost in disbelief.

"Sure, you don't need me," Minho mutters under his breath, chuckling. "That's why you've been stalking her with your eyes for the past few months like some lovesick puppy. Face it, dude, you're completely whipped."

"Shut up before I give you another dead leg," Jisung warns, his gaze shifting nervously as you turn your head ever so slightly to stretch, your face calm and focused. He's both relieved and mildly disappointed you didn't catch him staring.

Minho just leans back, folding his arms smugly as the professor starts the lecture, his voice booming through the hall. Jisung tries his best to pay attention, but his eyes keep flicking back to you, noting the small details. How you twirl the pen absentmindedly between your fingers, how your silver rings catch the light, how you bite the inside of your cheek when you're deep in thought.

He's completely lost in his thoughts, only halfway aware of Minho smirking beside him, until the professor's voice jolts him back to reality.

"Mr. Han," the professor calls, eyebrow raised, and Jisung snaps to attention, his heart hammering. "Care to share your thoughts on the influence of early attachment theory in criminal psychology?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, of course." He clears his throat, scrambling for words while he can practically feel Minho's eyes burning into the side of his face. "Well, uh, early attachment theory basically suggests that the bonds formed in childhood can affect...um, behaviour patterns later in life. So, if there's a, uh, lack of healthy attachment early on, it can potentially influence-"

"Very insightful, Mr. Han," the professor interrupts, looking somewhat surprised. "It's encouraging to see you're paying attention."

Jisung sinks down in his seat, feeling Minho's barely restrained laughter beside him.

Minho leans over, whispering, "Congrats, you managed to bullshit your way through that without sounding like a total idiot."

"Thanks for nothing," Jisung mutters, hoping he can make it through the rest of the lecture without any more mortifying incidents. But then he catches you glancing over your shoulder, a hint of a smile on your lips, and he has to look away quickly to hide the stupid grin spreading across his face.

Minho nudges him, not missing a thing. "See? She's looking at you, dude. Progress."

That night in Jisung's room at the Alpha Phi frat house is filled with the flashing lights of Mario Kart on the TV and the sounds of brutal competition. Jisung's focused, leaning forward, button-mashing like his life depends on it, but Minho? Minho's lounging back, one hand on his controller, barely trying.

Jisung's character hits a banana peel, spinning out on the screen. "Oh, for fuck's sake! This stupid fucking game!"

Minho laughs, glancing over with a smirk. "You're terrible at this, dude."

"Shut up. You distracted me!" Jisung grumbles, tossing the controller on the bed beside him. "You're one of those lucky players. No skill, all luck."

"Uh-huh," Minho says, scooting to the edge of the bed and looking over at Jisung. "But I think we've got more important shit to talk about."

"Do we?" Jisung eyes him suspiciously. "'Cause I'd rather just forget the disaster that was today's lecture and how you spoke to her more than I did."

"Yeah, no, we're not forgetting it. Actually," Minho says, setting his controller down, "we're making a plan. You need an action plan, and I'm gonna help you."

Jisung raises an eyebrow, almost laughing at the audacity. "You're going to help me?"

Minho grins, sitting up and nodding, deadly serious. "Yep. What kind of best friend would I be if I let my friend sit around pining like some tragic little Shakespeare character? You, my friend, need a strategy."

"Strategy," Jisung repeats the word as though it's foreign like Minho just told him to build a rocket to the moon. "You realize that I have no idea what I'm doing here, right?"

"Exactly! You are amazing with women for casual hook ups but genuine feelings? You are useless. That's why you have me," Minho says, crossing his arms. "I've got a plan."

"Oh, you have a plan?" Jisung sits up, eyebrows raised. "You're really taking this seriously, aren't you?"

Minho scoffs. "If by seriously, you mean I'm not gonna let my friend completely fuck it up, then yes."

"Right," Jisung mutters, rolling his eyes. "And what is this master plan, Minho?"

"Oh, no, no," Minho says with a smirk, wagging a finger. "I'm not telling you what it is just yet."

Jisung sighs, flopping back on his bed. "Great. So I'm supposed to just sit here and trust you?"

"Absolutely," Minho says, smug. "But don't worry. I'm not a complete asshole. I want my confident, borderline cocky best friend back. You're like this-" He gestures vaguely at Jisung like he's pointing at some hopeless little creature. "Weird, hopeless romantic now."

Jisung grabs a pillow and flings it at Minho, who dodges with a laugh. "It's not my fault, okay? You saw her. She's- She's unreal."

Minho raises his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. And hey, I'm all for it if it means getting you out of this sad sack of shit phase. If I have to help you woo a girl who dresses like she's in the Spice Girls, then that's what I have to do."

Jisung pauses, frowning. "Spice Girls? Nah, she's more of a Sugababe"

Minho rolls his eyes, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Yes, I do," Jisung says, almost begrudgingly. "I need it, obviously."

"Then she's a Spice Girl," Minho declares with finality, earning a reluctant laugh from Jisung.

"Fine, Spice Girl," Jisung mutters, rolling his eyes. "But seriously, you better not fuck this up for me. I'm trusting you, which feels like a massive mistake."

"Hey," Minho says, raising a finger, his tone mockingly offended, "when have I ever let you down?"

Jisung snorts. "Need I remind you of the infamous barbecue incident?"

Minho waves his hand dismissively. "That was different. And technically, you were the one who set the grill on fire."

"You handed me lighter fluid, you idiot!" Jisung argues, laughing despite himself.

"Okay, but that was in the past," Minho says, grinning. "This is the present, my dude. And I'm telling you, I've got this. We're going to break you out of your sad little funk, and you're gonna have that confident Han Jisung swagger back in no time."

Jisung flops back against the bed, sighing deeply. "You think it's really that easy?"

"Trust me," Minho says, his smirk turning into something more genuine. "It's easier than you think. Plus, it's you. You're funny as hell, weirdly charming, objectively hot, and at least on the same planet as her intellectually. She's got no chance."

Jisung rolls his eyes, but he's grinning now. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm basically irresistible."

"Exactly," Minho says with a satisfied nod. "But seriously, dude. I'm not letting you mess this up. It's gonna be fine."

Jisung's grin fades just a bit, a hint of nerves creeping back in. "I just- I don't know, man. I've never felt this way about anyone before. She's just different."

"Of course, she is," Minho says, his tone a little softer. "And that's why you're gonna let me help you. Tomorrow's a new day, Jisung. In no time, we'll get you in front of her without you sounding like a total fucking loser. And trust me, you're gonna thank me."

Jisung rolls his eyes but feels a sense of relief he hasn't felt since this whole crush started. "Yeah, yeah. Just remember, no fuck ups, Minho. I'm trusting you with this."

Minho grins, reaching for the controllers. "Just leave it to me. Now, shut up and get ready to lose again."

It's one of those brisk fall days on campus where the chill in the air contrasts with the bright sun, casting golden light on the trees scattered across Miroh College. You're strolling across the courtyard, books clutched to your chest, barely paying attention to the buzz of students around you.

"Y/N!" someone calls out.

You turn, mildly surprised, to see Minho weaving through the crowd, jogging to catch up. He's got a cocky half-smile plastered on his face, and he's holding something in his hand. As he comes to a stop in front of you, slightly out of breath but still looking annoyingly composed, he holds out his hand, revealing the pen you lent him in class the other week.

"Here," he says, grinning as he offers it back to you. "Didn't think I was actually gonna keep it, did you?"

You laugh, tucking the pen into your trouser pocket. "Honestly? I kind of figured you'd forgotten about it. But thanks." You give him a curious look, noting the way he's standing there as if he has more to say.

He clears his throat, a little too casually. "So, are you free right now?"

"Yeah, I don't have another class for a bit," you say, shifting your books in your arms. "Why?"

Minho shoves his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels like he's considering something. "Wanna grab a coffee at the cafe? I could use some advice about a girl, and you seem like the kind of person who knows what to say and gives good advice."

You raise an eyebrow, surprised. "Me? Giving relationship advice?"

"Yeah, I know," Minho laughs, "but trust me, you're more qualified than anyone else I know. Plus, I'm a little desperate and a female perspective will be really helpful. Power of the female gaze and all that"

You can't help but laugh. "Alright, alright. I'm in. Let's go."

The campus cafe is buzzing with the usual lunchtime crowd, and you slip into a booth by the window, tucking your books beside you. As you settle in, Minho sets his bag down, glancing toward the counter. "I'll get our drinks," he says, grinning before heading up to order.

You're only half-watching him until you notice the guy working behind the counter. Jisung, from your Criminal Psychology class. He spots you almost instantly, and his eyes go comically wide, like he's just seen a ghost, or worse.

Minho sees Jisung's reaction immediately and, with a grin, flashes him a big thumbs up, clearly enjoying the situation. Jisung's expression shifts to something closer to horror, his gaze flicking from Minho to you, then back again as Minho approaches the counter.

"Relax, dude," Minho mutters when he reaches Jisung. "An iced americano for me and a caramel latte for the lady."

Jisung crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at Minho. "I swear, if this is some elaborate plan to fuck with me, I am going to spit in your coffee. Like big time spit, obnoxious amounts that shouldn't be humanly possible"

Minho smirks, leaning on the counter like he's sharing some big secret. "Ooh, I like a little danger. But seriously, I am wingmanning you right now, so maybe hold the bodily fluids?"

Jisung rolls his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but the relief on his face is evident. "Fine. But what's your big plan? Don't tell me you're just-"

"Listen, man," Minho interrupts, lowering his voice and casting a quick glance back at you, who's busy scrolling on your phone. "I'm gonna ask her for advice. Tell her I like this girl in my vet class and don't know how to talk to her, and the girl barely knows my name."

Jisung frowns, processing that. "But that's exactly- Oh, I get it now!" he says, realization dawning on him. "You're trying to figure out what I should do, aren't you?"

Minho gives him a look, exasperated. "Obviously. You think I'd drag her here just for the hell of it? Now, chill. Act natural and I will get your answers"

Jisung lets out a small, relieved sigh, finally grinning. "I'm not gonna lie, this is actually kinda genius."

Minho leans in closer, tapping the counter with a smug smile. "I know. I'm the best friend you could ever wish for. A blessing, really. You wouldn't live without me, well you'd live in the sad little turtle shell you duck into each time you see her"

Jisung smirks, grabbing the drinks and sliding them onto the counter. "Yeah, yeah. I still might spit in your drink."

Minho winks, grabbing the coffees with a smirk. "Do your worst."

He heads back over to the booth, setting your caramel latte in front of you as he slides into the seat across from you, his iced americano in hand. You offer a small, grateful smile as you stir your latte.

"So," you say, taking a sip. "What's going on with this girl?"

Minho sighs dramatically, leaning back and shaking his head like he's in over his head. "Alright, so there's this girl in my vet class. She's cute, no stunning, way too smart, and honestly, I feel like I barely exist to her."

You smile, nodding. "So, like, what's the problem? You're outgoing, funny, objectively good looking with the whole red hair, football frat thing. can't you just introduce yourself?"

"See, I thought of that," Minho says, playing up the thoughtful expression. "But she's, like, different, you know? Not the type who falls for my usual charm."

You laugh. "Oh, really? And what makes her different?"

"She's actually serious about her studies. And she's, like gentle and kind?" Minho looks at you, brows raised as if for confirmation. "Kinda like you. I feel like I'd come off like an idiot trying to get her attention."

You sip your coffee thoughtfully, thinking it over. "I think maybe just be yourself, then? Like, you don't have to be all charming or witty. Sometimes people respond better to honesty."

Minho nods, his expression almost sincere as he takes in your words. "That's actually good advice. So, just like come out with it? Just be like, 'Hey, I'm Minho, and I think you're cute'?"

You smile, shrugging. "Why not? I mean, sure, it's direct, but if she doesn't know you that well, she might appreciate that. People can usually tell when someone's being genuine."

Minho glances at the counter where Jisung's watching like a hawk, pretending to be busy cleaning the espresso machine. Minho subtly raises his eyebrows at him, as if to say, See? This is gold.

Jisung gives him a tiny nod, barely hiding his smile. From his station behind the counter, he watches as you talk, clearly engaged, your whole demeanour warm and relaxed. He doesn't know how Minho pulled this off, but for the first time in weeks, he feels like he might actually have a chance.

Meanwhile, Minho leans in closer, lowering his voice. "Okay, but what if she thinks I'm too much of a goof? Like, if she sees me as some obnoxious frat guy?"

You wave off his concern. "I don't know her, but if she's smart, she'll see past that. Besides, being a little goofy isn't the worst thing. Just don't go overboard, you know?"

Minho nods thoughtfully, leaning back as if he's deep in contemplation. "Yeah, yeah, keep it cool. Show her I'm not just some frat asshole."

You laugh, taking another sip. "Exactly. Just be Minho, not whatever character you're usually playing."

Minho raises his iced americano in a mock toast. "To being myself," he says with a grin. You laugh, clinking your coffee cup with his, and he makes a mental note to remember every word you just said so he can relay it to Jisung later.

The last slide of the lecture fades from the projector, and the usual rustling of notebooks and bags fills the room as everyone begins packing up. You're sliding your textbook and notes into your tote bag, ready to head out, when you feel a light tap on your shoulder. You turn, surprised, and there he is.

Jisung wearing an easy smile and an outfit that's surprisingly layered, intentional and kind of hot: black trousers, combat boots, a long-sleeve blue t-shirt beneath a grey graphic tee, and a cream-coloured cap, chains around his neck catching the light.

For a second, you're caught off guard; usually, you only ever catch a glimpse of him as he slips into a seat at the back just as the lecture's starting, often a little flustered. But today, he's right here, all grins and casual confidence.

"Hey," he says, his voice warm as he shoves his hands into his pockets. "So, that lecture was something, right?"

You nod, smiling back. "Yeah, Professor Kim really went in on the whole behavioural implications of early attachment theory thing. Like, there was no mercy."

Jisung lets out a small laugh. "Seriously, I thought he was going to lose it when that one guy asked if criminal behaviour could be 'genetically contagious.' Like, holy shit, man, read the room."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, right? I was ready to crawl under the desk."

"Same," Jisung chuckles, relaxing a bit. He remembers Minho's words from earlier in the week: Just be yourself. And he tries to keep that in mind, despite the slight nervousness bubbling under the surface.

"So, you're, uh, you're always on top of the reading, huh?" he asks, trying to keep it light as he leans back casually against the desk beside yours. "I feel like you could practically teach this class."

You shrug, shoving your last notebook into your bag and giving him a friendly smile. "Yeah, maybe. I just find it interesting, you know? All the psychology behind why people do what they do. It's fascinating to think there are patterns to it, stuff you can study and predict."

"Totally," Jisung says, nodding as if he completely gets it, even though half the time he's barely keeping up. "I mean, it's kinda cool to think that there's a method to what seems like total chaos."

"Exactly!" you say, your eyes lighting up as you lean against the desk, looking at him with genuine interest. "It's like unlocking mysteries in people's minds. Or at least trying to, anyway."

Jisung grins, a little taken aback by how animated you are. He's seen you in class, obviously, but seeing you like this, so close, he feels like he's getting a rare glimpse of who you actually are. And, damn, it's even better than he'd expected.

"I never thought of it that way," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I usually just think, 'Okay, study this, survive, move on.' But it sounds way cooler when you put it like that. Makes me actually want to put an effort in to studying"

You laugh, looking down as you swing your bag over your shoulder. "You know, surviving is honestly a valid approach. Sometimes, I feel like I'm just trying to get through the day without having a mental breakdown."

Jisung chuckles, nodding. "Can't argue with that. But hey, you seem like you've got it all figured out."

You give him a playful look. "Trust me, it's all an act. Half the time, I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Same here," he says, feeling a rush of relief. "I thought I was the only one faking it."

You smile, shaking your head. "Nope. We're all just stumbling our way through. Story of student life I suppose"

Jisung's eyes linger on you for a second longer than he means to, and he suddenly remembers Minho's advice to keep things relaxed but confident. "Well, maybe if I can get some of that magic stumbling hiding confidence you've got, I might actually make it to the end of the semester without flunking out."

You raise an eyebrow, amused. "Oh yeah? I'll let you in on a secret, it's just caffeine and pretending I understand what's going on."

Jisung laughs, nodding in understanding. "Noted. I'll double up on the caffeine, then."

You grin, your gaze softening. "Good plan."

After a beat, you glance at the clock. "Anyway, I should probably get going. Got another class in, like, ten minutes, and I'm already halfway across campus from it."

"Right, yeah," Jisung says, moving back a step to let you pass. "Well, thanks for not minding me, uh, ambushing you like that."

"Not at all, it was nice talking to someone who actually listens in the lectures," you say, smiling warmly. "See you next week, Jisung."

You turn and head for the door, giving him a little wave before you slip out. Jisung watches you go, feeling an unexpected rush of adrenaline, and once you're gone, he lets out a long breath, barely containing the wide grin spreading across his face.

He can still hear Minho's voice in his head, saying, Just be yourself. And, for once, that had felt like it was enough.

Jisung practically kicks Minho's door open as he barrels into the room, eyes lit up with excitement. But his enthusiasm stumbles as he takes in the scene.

"Jisung, are you serious?!" Minho exclaims, glaring at him. "You just killed my mood! I was about to bust, man!"

Jisung rolls his eyes, unbothered, crossing his arms. "Yeah, whatever, sorry for ruining your little wank session, but, like terrible porn choice, by the way. Boring as hell."

Minho flips him off as he grabs his underwear, tugging them back up with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine. So what the hell is so important that you've gotta bust down my door like you're the cops?"

Jisung's face breaks into a wide grin. "Dude. She spoke to me. We had an actual conversation! I spoke to her. Like, a real conversation."

Minho stares at him, caught between disbelief and amusement as he pulls his headphones off, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "No shit?" he says, still looking slightly dazed from Jisung's interruption.

"Yeah, no shit," Jisung says, almost bouncing in place.

Minho smirks, his eyes narrowing as he looks Jisung up and down. "Wait, is that why you put actual effort into your outfit today? And the hair, too? By 'styled,' of course, I mean just putting a cap on that mop."

Jisung grins, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, yeah, maybe I tried a little. But, dude, it worked!"

Minho snickers. "So you finally did it, huh? Had a full conversation with her?"

Jisung nods enthusiastically. "Hell yeah, we did! We talked about the lecture, and, like, I don't know, she was so easy to talk to and she said it was nice talking to me, like she wasn't even weirded out that I started talking to her. It felt so normal?"

Minho raises an eyebrow. "Alright, so now what?"

Jisung blinks, his excitement faltering for a second. "What do you mean, now what? I don't know. Help me?"

Minho sighs, shaking his head as he stands up. "How are you so useless with this? Okay, genius idea, invite her to the next game."

Jisung's face lights up again. "Oh, shit. Yeah! I'll invite her to the game, get her there cheering us on..."

"Exactly, dumbass. I'll help you score a touchdown or two, and you'll look like a total beast. Win-win." Minho smirks, clearly pleased with his own idea.

"Dude, you're the best," Jisung says, grinning. "I'll totally owe you one for this."

Minho claps his hand on Jisung's shoulder, a smug grin on his face. Jisung instantly recoils, cringing. "Ew! That's your dick hand!"

Minho laughs, slapping him harder on the back for good measure. "Hey, that's what you get for ruining my nut, you absolute menace."

Jisung groans, wiping his shoulder with exaggerated disgust. "This is why people lock doors, Minho."

"Oh, like you've ever knocked once in your life," Minho retorts, rolling his eyes. "But wait. You got so far today, and you don't even have a way to reach her? A number? Instagram?"

Jisung's face falls, and he slumps onto Minho's bed with a defeated sigh. "Nope. I didn't even think of it until now."

Minho throws his hands up, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Useless. You're actually useless. This is going to take so much more work than I thought."

"Hey!" Jisung protests, but he's laughing now, leaning back on the bed with a sigh. "Alright, alright, I'll figure it out. You're right, though, I'll need her number. Any genius ideas?"

Minho shakes his head with a dramatic sigh. "Good thing you've got me. I'll brainstorm. But seriously, you better not screw this up."

"You'll help me if I do right?"

"After laughing in your face obviously,"

The sun's dipping low, casting a warm golden glow over the field as Chan has the football team running drills. Again. The guys are panting, practically dying under Chan's merciless watch, their bodies burning from the gruelling set of push-ups, burpees, and sprints he's making them do. Even Jisung, who usually manages to keep his energy up, is starting to feel like his limbs are made of lead.

But as he glances over toward the college track, he spots you jogging, a look of relaxed determination on your face as you breeze through each lap. It's ridiculous. You look like you're gliding effortlessly, not a bead of sweat in sight, while the team grunts and groans with exhaustion.

Minho notices Jisung's gaze drifting. He elbows him, nodding over toward you. "Isn't that your dream '90s girl over there?"

Jisung's attention snaps back, his face flushing as he realizes Minho and the rest of the guys nearby are watching him.

Chan and the others follow Minho's gaze, squinting across the track. You're in a pair of low-rise sweatpants that sit comfortably on your hips, paired with a cropped white camisole with a lace trim, and white sneakers.

Your hair's pinned up in that familiar seashell claw clip, a few strands falling loose around your face. It's the kind of look that would have looked right at home in an old music video, and it's like you walked out of a '90s dream.

"Damn, she doesn't look tired at all," Changbin mutters, still trying to catch his breath from Chan's never-ending drills.

"She's putting us all to shame," Jeongin says, half-laughing, half-wheezing. "How is she just breezing through those laps?"

Seungmin glances at Jisung with a smirk. "Wait, don't tell me you're struggling to talk to her?"

Minho nods with a heavy, dramatic sigh. "It's actually hurting my soul, and I didn't even know I had one of those."

Felix raises his eyebrows, laughing. "Revolving door of women Han Jisung can't talk to a girl? Are we in an alternate universe?"

Jisung rolls his eyes. "Oh, please. You guys are being so dramatic."

"Hey, it's not every day that the great Han Jisung meets his match," Chan teases, wiping sweat from his brow. "Honestly though, Minho, we all doubted you had a soul."

"Thanks, Chan, that's what I go for," Minho says with a smirk. "But yeah, Jisung, now's your chance. Go ask her for her number. And invite her to the game while you're at it."

Jisung looks horrified, glancing down at his sweaty clothes and feeling his hair matted from sweat. "Right now? While I'm covered in sweat?"

"Yes," Minho says, his voice firm. "There's no time like the present. You're gonna overthink it if you wait."

Seungmin chimes in with an encouraging nod, his tone mocking. "Go on, man. Ask her out. Don't worry, you can do it. Maybe."

"Shut up," Jisung grumbles, but he can feel the nervous energy building.

Felix elbows him playfully. "C'mon, this is a moment for the history books. Don't chicken out."

With a mischievous look, Minho cups his hands around his mouth, ignoring Jisung's wide-eyed stare. "Yo, Y/N! Come join us!"

You pause, looking over toward the group with a curious expression as you pull one of your earbuds out. After a moment of hesitation, you jog over, slowing to a walk as you approach the crowd of sweaty football players.

"Hey," you greet, giving a small smile as you reach them, taking in the group with an amused look. "You guys look like you're in hell."

"You don't know the half of it," Changbin groans, leaning over to catch his breath. "I think Chan's trying to kill us."

Chan just smirks. "That's how you get a winning team, my friend." Chan's eyes flicker to the Walkman clipped to your waistband, and Chan's face lights up with sudden recognition. "Hold on, is that a real Walkman?"

You smile, nodding. "Yep, authentic. Found it in a thrift shop, and it still works perfectly."

"That's insane," Chan says, sounding genuinely impressed. "I haven't seen one of those in, like, forever."

Jisung takes a deep breath, gathering his courage, and steps forward with a lopsided grin. "Hey, so, uh, we have a game coming up this Saturday," he says, his voice surprisingly steady despite the nervous excitement bubbling in his chest. "I thought maybe, if you're free, you could come by? Cheer us on?"

You tilt your head, clearly considering it as you give him a warm smile. "Yeah, I think I'd like that. It sounds fun."

Jisung's grin widens, the relief flooding through him as you agree. "Awesome, yeah. We'll- we'll definitely put on a good show."

Minho raises an eyebrow, smirking at Jisung's wide grin. "Oh, he's gonna be putting on a show, alright."

Chan lets out a small laugh, nodding approvingly. "Better make it a good one, Jisung."

You glance at the group, laughing softly at the way they're all watching Jisung, clearly amused and intrigued by the whole interaction. "Well, good luck with the rest of practice, guys. Hope you survive it."

"Thanks, Y/N," Jisung says, almost too eagerly.

The team watches as you jog over to the bleachers, earbuds back in and totally oblivious to the chaos unfolding behind you. Minho's gaze follows you for a second before he turns on Jisung and slaps him upside the head.

"Ow!" Jisung yelps, rubbing the back of his head. "Dude, I asked her to the game! What the hell was that for?"

Minho sighs, looking at him like he's the densest person on the planet. "You didn't ask for her number, you idiot!"

"Oh. Shit."

Chan crosses his arms and nods towards the bleachers. "Alright, well, go ask her now! What are you waiting for?"

"Right!" Jisung says, almost tripping over himself as he prepares to take off, only to freeze in place, still staring at the bleachers as if they're a hundred miles away.

Changbin squints at him, an amused smirk on his face. "Uh, Jisung, you haven't moved."

Jisung blinks, nodding. "I'm going!" But he's still firmly rooted to the spot.

Hyunjin snorts, crossing his arms. "You still haven't moved, man. It's like you're glued to the grass or something."

Minho lets out an exaggerated sigh, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically. "There it is again, this pain in the soul I didn't know I had. Honestly, Jisung, you're killing me."

Felix and Jeongin, watching with growing impatience, exchange a glance before stepping forward and shoving Jisung forward with a well-placed push. Caught off guard, he stumbles but quickly regains his footing, shooting them a quick glare before he jogs over to you.

By now, you're sitting on the bleachers, scrolling through your phone, clearly enjoying the peace. When Jisung stops in front of you, a little breathless, you glance up with a curious smile, taking out an earbud.

"Hey! Back already?" you ask, giving him an amused look. "Did Chan finally cut you guys a break?"

Jisung scratches the back of his neck, feeling his usual bravado abandon him in the face of your calm, easy smile. "Uh not quite," he says, mentally cursing himself for how awkward he feels. "But, um, I just realized about the game on Saturday. I could, you know, send you details if you wanted them."

You raise an eyebrow, nodding. "Oh, yeah, that'd be great."

"Right. So, uh, could I maybe have your number?" He's practically holding his breath, his pulse racing, but he tries to play it cool. "You know, as a friend, for game details and stuff."

"Of course!" you say, nodding. You reach into your bag and pull out a pen, scribbling your number on a small slip of paper before handing it to him. "Here you go. Just text me when and where, and I'll be there."

Jisung takes the paper, feeling a ridiculous amount of triumph as he clutches it like it's some sacred artefact. "Awesome. Thanks!"

You smile, tucking your earbuds back in. "No problem. Good luck with the rest of practice!"

As you jog off, Jisung watches you for a second, still gripping the slip of paper before he turns and heads back to the field.

The guys are all watching him expectantly as he approaches, Minho crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. "Well? How'd it go?"

Jisung waves the piece of paper triumphantly. "I got her number!"

Seungmin raises an eyebrow, noting the look on Jisung's face. "But...?"

Jisung sighs, the realization settling in as he slumps slightly. "I friend zoned myself."

The entire team lets out a collective groan, most of them doubling over with laughter or shaking their heads in disbelief.

"What is wrong with you?" Minho says, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Are you trying to sabotage yourself, or what?"

Jisung rubs his temples, feeling his frustration build. "I don't know, man! Usually, I can get a girl's number and have her in my bed in, like, ten minutes. It's like all my usual shit just falls apart when I'm around her."

Hyunjin laughs, patting him on the back. "Maybe that's a sign, genius. Try being, I don't know yourself?"

Chan snorts, crossing his arms. "This is a first. Han Jisung, a bumbling self friend zoning mess"

Jisung huffs, rolling his eyes. "Thanks for the support, guys."

Felix grins, his voice softening. "Come on, man. Just be real with her. No more overthinking. Invite her to the game, hang out, just chill. Don't overcomplicate it."

Minho shakes his head, laughing. "Right. We'll do the complicated part on the field. Just focus on not friend zoning yourself again, okay?"

Jisung lets out a reluctant laugh, tucking the slip of paper safely into his pocket. "Fine, fine. No more overthinking. Just keep it simple."

The team exchanges looks, clearly sceptical but amused, as Chan whistles to get them back on task. "Alright, lovebirds, enough about the romance stuff. Back to drills. Let's go!"

With one last glance toward the bleachers where you'd been sitting, Jisung feels a rush of determination. Saturday can't come soon enough.

The stadium lights blaze down on the field, casting a glow across the crowd and players as Miroh College's football team, the Miroh Maniacs, prepare for the big game.

Jisung stands at the edge of the field, scanning the bleachers with anxious eyes, trying to spot you among the scattered faces. But the stands are filled with students, and it's impossible to find anyone, let alone the person he's been looking forward to seeing all week.

He huffs, scuffing his cleats into the grass, feeling his chest tighten. "She didn't come," he mutters, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Minho, standing beside him in full gear, gives him a sympathetic look and a heavy pat on the back. "Damn, man. That's rough. But hey, maybe she got caught up or something. Doesn't mean she didn't want to come."

Jisung lets out a sigh, folding his arms. "Yeah, maybe. Still feels like shit, though."

As the game begins, Jisung tries to keep his focus on the field, but it's tough when all he can think about is you, not being there. He's distracted, missing cues, and every time he glances at the bleachers, there's a sinking feeling in his stomach. Minho notices, giving him an encouraging nudge whenever he slips up, but Jisung can't shake the nagging disappointment.

By halftime, Jisung's barely even listening as Chan goes over their next moves. He's glancing back toward the stands, wondering if you might magically appear, hoping against hope. And then, as the players start gathering for their pep talk, Jisung sees something that stops him in his tracks.

There you are, sitting at the bottom of the stands, looking around as if you're searching for someone. You're wearing a green long-sleeve shirt that dips into a deep V-neck, showing just a hint of skin, and a pair of baggy, low-rise jeans. The familiar black Converse on your feet, your hair is messily clipped up with that same seashell claw clip. It's unmistakably you.

His heart leaps, and before he knows it, he's jogging over, catching you by surprise as he comes to a stop in front of you.

"Hey," he says, slightly out of breath but grinning. "You okay?"

You look up at him, guilt flickering across your face as you offer a small, apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, Jisung. I know I'm late. I was finishing up my forensic science paper and, like, totally lost track of time."

He shakes his head, a bit stunned that you actually came. "You didn't have to come if you had a big assignment. Seriously, it's not a big deal."

You smile, and the sincerity in your eyes makes his chest feel lighter. "No, I said I'd be here, so here I am." You gesture toward the field, smirking. "Besides, I wasn't going to miss out on seeing you guys destroy the other team, right?"

Jisung laughs, the weight that had been on his shoulders lifting in an instant. "We're doing our best, but uh got a little distracted in the first half." He rubs the back of his neck, feeling his cheeks warm a bit.

"Well," you say, looking up at him with a reassuring smile, "now I'm here, so no more excuses. You've got a whole second half to make up for it, right?"

The shrill blast of the whistle signals the start of the second half, and Jisung shoots you a quick grin. "Guess I better get back out there. Keep an eye out, alright?"

You nod, laughing. "Oh, I'll be watching. Go kill it."

Jisung jogs back toward his teammates, practically buzzing with energy now. Minho, standing with Hyunjin near the sidelines, spots him and raises an eyebrow. "Finally got that confidence back, huh?"

Hyunjin smirks, crossing his arms. "Alright, man. We're getting you a touchdown. Everyone's in on it."

Minho grabs a bottle of water, shoving it into Jisung's hands. "It's time to wow your '90s dream girl, dude. So hydrate, gear up, and get your ass in the zone."

Jisung takes the bottle, glancing down at it sceptically. "But what if I have to piss? Seriously, I'm not risking that."

Minho rolls his eyes, exasperated. "For god's sake, just drink some water."

Jisung takes a reluctant sip, his face scrunching as he sets the bottle down. "Fine, but if this backfires, you're to blame."

Hyunjin laughs, giving him a shove toward the huddle where the rest of the team waits. "Go kill it, Romeo."

With one last look at you sitting on the bleachers, Jisung heads back to the field, a newfound determination in his eyes. He's ready for the second half, and this time, he's not holding anything back.

The whistle blows to start the second half, and instantly, the team is on high alert. Chan calls the play, and the whole lineup is subtly geared toward making sure Jisung has the perfect setup to score. The guys are practically electric, each one of them more hyped than usual, and it's clear they're all determined to help Jisung pull off his moment.

Jisung lines up, glancing once toward the bleachers where you're watching, leaning forward with your eyes locked on the game. His heart pounds, adrenaline pumping as he gets into position.

Chan snaps the ball, and the play begins. Minho and Hyunjin immediately work to block the defenders, giving Jisung a clear path as he sprints downfield, dodging tackles, his every step fueled by the thought of you watching. He feels every inch of the field beneath his cleats, and it's like everything's in slow motion. He can see the end zone, clear and open, just waiting for him.

"Go, Jisung!" Minho yells, throwing a solid block that opens up the final few yards for him.

With a burst of speed, Jisung dives forward, clutching the ball tightly as he crosses into the end zone. The cheers erupt around him, but the only thing he's focused on is you, standing up in the bleachers, clapping with a wide, proud smile that lights up your entire face and makes Jisung see the world in shades of pink.

Jisung's face breaks into a grin, his chest swelling with pride as he stands up, unable to hide the joy on his face. He can barely hear his teammates around him because all he's seeing is the look on your face, and it's enough to make him feel invincible.

"Hell yeah!" Changbin cheers as he and Minho rush over, pulling Jisung to his feet with matching grins.

"Alright, you've impressed her now," Minho says, slapping him on the back. "But now you've gotta close the deal. We're gonna help you get as many damn touchdowns as possible, but after that? It's on you, bro. You gotta either kiss her or ask her out or whatever you're planning. You get me?"

Jisung nods rapidly, barely able to contain the massive grin on his face. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. I'm doing this!"

Felix and Seungmin clap him on the back, their laughter ringing out as they congratulate him, and Jeongin practically tackles him in excitement.

"That was sick, dude!" Jeongin says, beaming. "Now you just gotta keep this up!"

Chan and Hyunjin jog over, both of them holding out their hands for high fives, which Jisung meets eagerly.

"Keep that adrenaline up," Hyunjin says, smirking. "With this energy, asking her out's gonna be a piece of cake."

"Exactly," Chan says, nodding with a smile. "Now let's help our boy rack up some more scores. If we play this right, he'll be unstoppable tonight."

Jisung clenches his fists, adrenaline flooding his veins as he nods, ready to play his absolute best. The guys all gather around him, their energy infectious as they slap his back, hyping him up before heading back into position. He glances at the bleachers once more, catching your eye as you wave, still beaming with that warm, encouraging smile.

For the rest of the game, the team's strategy is clear: get Jisung every chance to score. Each play is practically engineered to put the ball in his hands, and every time he crosses the line, the crowd roars, sending chills down his spine. And each time, he looks to the bleachers, zeroing in on you. You're standing now, clapping with a bright smile that lights up your face, and to him, it's like the whole stadium fades away.

With every touchdown, his teammates swarm him, cheering, slapping his helmet, yelling about how "the Han touchdown train" can't be stopped tonight. It's like they're all rooting for him not just to win the game, but to win you over.

"Goddamn, you're on fire, Jisung!" Chan shouts, panting as he jogs up beside him after yet another touchdown.

"It's the magic of a girl in the stands," Felix laughs, throwing an arm around Jisung's shoulder. "You better keep this up, man. We've never seen you play this good."

Jisung laughs, breathless, catching his teammates' infectious energy. He glances over to see you clapping again, beaming at him, and for a second, he almost feels like he's floating.

Minho sidles up next to him, catching his breath. "You see her out there, dude? She's cheering just for you. You got this."

Jisung nods, wiping sweat off his brow, feeling a surge of confidence every time he catches your eye. Each touchdown fuels him more, and the team, sensing his determination, rallies around him.

They block defenders with brutal force, ploughing through lines to create space, and hand him the ball again and again, shouting encouragement at every opportunity.

With a little over two minutes left in the game, Chan calls a huddle, his voice rough but steady as he grins at the team. "Alright, let's make this one count. It's our last drive. Get Jisung the fucking ball."

The guys nod, all grins and fierce determination. As they take their positions, Jisung glances once more toward the bleachers. You're watching intently, eyes full of excitement, and it's like an invisible thread pulls him toward the end zone, knowing you'll be there cheering no matter what.

The play unfolds perfectly. Minho and Changbin block two defenders, Felix takes out another, and Jisung darts through the gap, sprinting toward the end zone. The crowd's roar is deafening as he makes the final dive, crossing the line with the ball firmly in his grip.

He stands up, triumphant, the thrill of the touchdown rippling through him, but what really makes his heart race is catching sight of you in the stands, clapping wildly, that same radiant smile on your face. He can barely contain his own grin as he raises a fist in the air, the cheers around him fading into the background as he locks eyes with you.

When his teammates reach him, they're laughing, shouting over each other's voices.

"You're a goddamn beast tonight, Han!" Seungmin yells, clapping him on the back.

Hyunjin smirks, holding up a hand for a high-five. "You'd better ask her out after this, because that was fucking legendary."

As the final whistle blows, signalling their victory, Jisung's teammates surround him, piling on congratulations, laughs, and relentless back pats.

The final whistle blows and the crowd erupts in cheers as the Miroh Maniacs celebrate their victory. The guys are all high-fiving and fist-pumping, adrenaline buzzing through their veins as they revel in the thrill of the win.

Jisung's heart is pounding, both from the game and from the sight of you at the edge of the field, clapping and smiling as you watch the team celebrate.

"Go get your '90s dream girl, Han," Minho says, slapping Jisung on the shoulder. There's a glint of mischief in his eye as he steps back, letting Jisung gather his courage.

Chan, ever the supportive captain, grins and shouts, "You've got this, Ji! Don't choke now!"

"Dude, you've been killing it all night," Hyunjin says, giving him an encouraging nod. "Time to wrap it up with a win off the field, too."

Felix and Jeongin clap him on the back, their voices blending into a jumble of encouragement and good-natured ribbing. Even Seungmin, who usually prefers to stay cool and unbothered, joins in with a smirk. "Don't overthink it, man. Just go."

Jisung takes a deep breath, feeling every bit of adrenaline pushing him forward as he steps toward you. The team's words echo in his mind, and he thinks, Fuck it. It's now or never.

You approach the group, looking radiant, your eyes bright with excitement as you clap for each of them. "Congratulations, you guys! That was seriously amazing!"

Jisung's heart nearly skips a beat as he takes in the sight of you, looking effortlessly beautiful even in the dim stadium lights. He's been imagining this moment all night, and without thinking, he steps forward, closing the distance between you.

And then, with a surge of confidence, he cups your face and kisses you, pouring everything he's been feeling into the moment. His heart's racing, but as soon as your lips meet, he feels that familiar thrill, the world fading out around him.

The team erupts into cheers and whistles behind him, and Jisung can't help but grin against your lips as he hears them hollering.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, still holding you close. Emboldened by the rush, he dips you back, his grin widening as the guys cheer even louder. Minho yells out over the noise, "Strawberries and heaven, my man! Your '90s dream girl right here!"

You laugh, your cheeks pink as you look up at Jisung, slightly dazed. "Wait. What?"

Jisung's face softens, his voice tender as he smiles down at you. "You. You smell like strawberries and heaven. And you're my '90s dream girl." And with that, he leans in and kisses you again, savouring the feeling, the cheers of his friends blending into the background.

When he finally lets go, Minho claps him on the back, looking comically emotional. "I feel so proud, honestly. I coached him through it all, stopped jerking it for him to gush about her. This is basically a win for me, too."

Chan laughs, shaking his head. "Minho, you sacrificed, my guy. I'm proud of you."

Felix raises an eyebrow, his expression teasing. "Seriously, though. I can't believe it took seven wingmen to make this happen."

Jisung rolls his eyes but laughs along, his arm still around you as he finally turns back to face his friends.

You smile up at him, still a little flushed but looking delighted. "So, what's the plan now?"

Jisung's eyes light up, his grin playful. "We're having a post-game party back at the frat house. You should come." He pauses, pretending to think. "I might even make you a cocktail as good as that caramel latte you liked."

"Oh, really?" you tease, raising an eyebrow. "Big talk, Han. Think you're up to it?"

"Pfft, please," Jisung says, flashing you a confident smirk. "Give me a real challenge."

You laugh, glancing back toward the bleachers. "Alright. I'll grab my things while you guys wrap up and shower. Don't keep me waiting."

You head back toward the stands, and as soon as you're out of earshot, Felix leans over, grinning. "Uh, Jisung, dude, you can't make cocktails to save your life."

Jisung's expression falters, but then he looks at Minho, a pleading glint in his eye. "Minho...?"

Minho lets out a long, dramatic sigh. "Fine. I'll make the fucking cocktail. But seriously, you owe me for this one."

Jisung's grin returns. "You're the best, man."

Minho smirks, crossing his arms. "Do you need me to teach you how to fuck her too?"

Jisung snorts, shooting him a playful glare before delivering a swift kick to Minho's ass. "Shut the fuck up, man."

The team laughs, their voices full of pride and joy as they head off the field, congratulating Jisung and slapping him on the back the whole way.

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