#brunch in seoul

[roseange]

slow down!

credits 💌

[hunnylatte]

[lvdanii]

Restaurant in Seoul

📷:Me

[seoana]

[kookslastbutton]

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) l ch. VI

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6,192

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), kook gets pissed, jk mother is asdhjf!, mommy issues, lots of family drama/in-laws, fighting, manipulative parent, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, jk being good hubby to oc, mild sexting, sexual content

Sexual warnings: bl*wj*b, jk c*mes on her t*tt*es, d*rty talk

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: um so this got over 6k which i know isn't amazing but for me its big deal okay?! haha! Anyway Part VI here we go! No flashbacks in this chapter because of ch.V buuut, I have a little gift for you and me. Hope you enjoy!! 💞 also pls vote if youd be so kind 😙

<< ch. V ༓ ch. VII >> | series masterlist

Living in the country for over thirty years, the Jeons were known to be excruciatingly slow and cautious drivers. The town was tiny, roads were narrow, and no one was ever in a rush to get anywhere apart from maybe the farmers market.

Once when Jungkook first got his license he took one hand off the steering wheel and his mother almost had a heart attack, saying it was “reckless of him to put them in danger”. It was from that moment forward that Jungkook always made sure to drive at 10 and 2 or 9 and 3 when his mother was in the car. His father on the other hand didn’t care what he did as long as he didn’t go above 30 mph.

Jungkook was counting his lucky stars when he finally got his own car and the chance to move to the city where he could drive how he damn well pleased–responsibly of course. He had recently finished his Master’s studies and was offered a job as an economist in a major medical corporation. The only catch was that he’d have to relocate to Seoul which ended up being more than fine with him.

His parents moaned and groaned that he wasn’t sticking around but his mind was made up. He moved out of his parent’s tiny town one late June and headed to the city where life moved to a whole new beat.

Ten years later, Jungkook finds himself gripping the steering wheel with two sweaty hands again. Kudos to his parents who have been telling him which way to turn and how fast or slow to go for the past fifteen minutes. He honestly should have picked a brunch spot closer to home to avoid all the madness. Walking would have done them good.

“I’ll never get used to how you drive down here,” Mrs. Jeon grumbles from the back seat. “All these sharp turns and six lanes of traffic going 50-plus miles an hour. It’s a wonder you haven’t all gotten in an accident yet. It’s like I always say, the slower the better. You city folks just don’t get it.”

Jungkook peers in his rearview mirror before signaling to switch lanes. “We can’t afford to go too slow out here Mom. This is a highway and dropping down in speed will cause a safety hazard just as bad, if not worse. Environments are different out here than in the woods.”

As Jungkook merges to the right, Mr. Jeon watches the surrounding cars from the back seat window. “Ah son, son, son!” He hollers and reaches for the ceiling handle.

“What? What happened?” Jungkook asks with panic. He flickers his eyes to the mirror again to spot his father's distress.

Mr. Jeon slowly releases the handle and lets out a lengthy sigh. “It's okay now, we’re good. You did good son. You moved over with so little space I thought you were going to hit the car now behind us."

"I told you it's a mad house out here!" Mrs. Jeon adds, tone thick. Jungkook puts his eyes back on the road in front of him and does his best to ignore the irritation bubbling within him.

"I know what I'm doing," he says. "I've lived here for ten years so can you guys please trust me? And stop with the driving advice and yelling every time I do something."

"We're just trying to help Kookie."

"Well, you're not alright?" The snap in his voice has Jungkook's parents sulking back in their seats in silence. "I want us to get to the restaurant safely and I can't do that when you're both shouting at me! So please just let me do the driving. Thank you."

God, if one more person calls him Kookie in that condescending tone he's going to lose it! Kookie was his childhood nickname but for some reason, it stuck to him like glue until he was friggin' 22 years old. He absolutely hates it and the only person remotely allowed to call him by it is his wife because she makes anything sound like honey to his ears.

The next five minutes are nothing but awkward silence and the sound of tires running on hard cement. Jungkook checks his phone—there's still a good ten minutes left according to the GPS. He moves to turn the radio on to break the eeriness of the drive when an incoming call pops on his car screen.

"Who's that? Who's calling?" Mr. Jeon pipes up.

"It's __." Jungkook hits the answer button. "Hey honey! You're on speaker." He smiles a big, wide grin that says nothing less than he misses you.

"Hi! I'm on my lunch break and thought I'd give you guys a call. I'm stopping at the grocery store tonight, after work. Anything you need?"

“Some booze would be nice!” Mr. Jeon echos and looks at his wife who merely shakes her head. He hasn’t had a drink in twenty years due to his high blood pressure, yet he’s still making the same damn jokes. “Got any Soju? Or maybe Bokbunja?” He chuckles at Mrs. Jeon’s sour face.

Jungkook pays his dad no mind and replies to you. “Uhm….we're low on milk again. I drank the last one yesterday.”

"You went through all those gallon jugs in a week?!" You'd think you'd be used to the amount of dairy your husband packs away but every time, it shocks you as much as the first. You married a milk-lovin’ machine.

Jungkook chuckles. "I'm sorry. I can get them for you if you want. We're on our way to get brunch, then hitting the bookstore for Dad, and after we'll swoop back home. I can pick it up along the way.”

“No need, I’m already going out later so I’ll get it. Anything else?”

“There’s nothing else I can think of. How’s work going?” He’s hoping it’s not hectic given the fact that last week was an absolute sandstorm. He distinctively remembers you coming home with nothing more than tired feet and dark circles under your eyes. He drew you a bath that night.

“Eh, so-so. I have a meeting with my boss later but besides that, it’s the usual. I wish I could have come to brunch with you guys. I feel bad I’m missing it.” Well, you do and you don’t. If Jungkook was planning on talking to his mom about the happenings of last night you wanted to be around for support but it was also a matter that should be between a mother and her son.

“Us too, but we’ll see you ton–shit!” Jungkook slams on the break when he sees he’s about to crash into a black SUV. Everyone’s seatbelts lock at the sudden jerk. “Sorry, sorry!” He checks the mirror to find his parents clinging to their seatbelts.

“Are you guys okay?! Jungkook?!”

He scans all around him to find rows and rows of cars all trying to merge into each other’s lanes. Some are coming from the exit nearby whereas others are trying to squeeze through people in hopes to get ahead.

Dammit, Jungook cruses to himself.

“Yeah, we’re good honey. Everything’s okay but we’ve hit a traffic jam. I’m not sure why since it’s literally 11:40 a.m on a Wednesday but looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a bit.”

“We’d never have this problem at home.” Jungkook hears his mother mumbling under her breath to which his father replies with a nodding of his head. “If it weren’t for all this nonsense we’d be there by now.”

“Absolutely. We’d be there fifteen minutes ago,” his father adds with his hands in the air. “Isn’t there some kind of way you can get around this son, like a shortcut?”

Ah yes, shortcuts on the highway. Why didn’t he think of that? Let him just push the button that says flight mode and–no! Having enough, Jungkook holds his foot on the break and twists his body around to face his parents.

“Alright listen to me right now. This is not Tiny Town where there are a million dirt roads that pop from anywhere and all seem to lead to one other. Everyone drives at least seventy out here and that’s just the way it is because this..." He gestures outside the windshield. "This is what happens! We all get stuck in this congested funnel! But if you two can think of a way to get out of here that doesn’t involve attempting to bulldoze other cars, I’m all ears. Until then we’re going to sit here and talk about the weather because there's nothing else we can do!"

Jungkook looks back and forth between his parents. Mrs. Jeon simply stares outside her window while his dad gives a slow nod in understanding.

"Is it really that bad?"

Jungkook relaxes his body back to face the front when he hears your voice. "Yeah, it's pretty bad __." He lets out a long, exasperated sigh. This is going to be a very long day.

"Nice out today. Mind if I roll down the window?" The traffic hasn't got any better and it was starting to get stuffy in the car. Mr. Jeon desperately needed some fresh air in his face.

"Mhm yeah, go ahead."

"How about some music? Find out what's on the radio will you." He sticks his arm out the window, letting the gentle breeze hit his skin. When the first song blares through the speakers, Jungkook's mother breaks her deafening silence.

"Dear god! What music is this?"

Mr. Jeon immediately perks up. "It's PSY! Turn it up! Turn it up, boy!" Jungkook appeases his father's wishes and turns the knob a few more notches. "Oppa Gangnam Style! Eae eae eae e, sexy lady!"

Hearing his dad singing at the top of his lungs has Jungkook rubbing the side of his head. It's not that he sounded bad but he was singing so loud that everyone around them started pointing, laughing, or rolling up their own windows. "Dad, people are going to get annoyed. Take it down a little."

Deeply immersed in the song, Mr. Jeon continues singing regardless of his son's request. "Op, op, op, op, oppa Gangnam Style!" He starts rocking in his seat which causes a few middle schoolers in the car next to them to pop out their phones.

"Dad!" Jungkook hollers when he notices the kids taking pictures. If doesn't put an end to this now, his father's face is going to be trending all over the internet with god knows what filter.

"Op, op, op, op, on on on on!"

"Dad stop!" He tries again, this time turning the music down. Mrs. Jeon attempts to calm her husband down too, placing a hand on one of his arms but it doesn't take much for it to be ripped out of her grasp. Mr. Jeon ends up nearly whacking his wife in the face due to all his energetic dancing.

"Erotic sexy lady! Oppa Gangnam Sty–hey! Song wasn't done yet!" Jungkook's dad never looked so offended in his life. If he had adjusted his gaze just a few inches to the left he'd see the group of kids, the ones taking photos earlier, giggling to one another. But he was too pissed at his son for crashing his party that it went to the wayside.

"Honey, you were causing a disturbance," Mrs. Jeon says.

"A disturbance? In this traffic jam, I'm the disturbance?" He refuses to believe he's the annoyance when they've been in the middle of a highway, moving at 5 mph for the last hour. PSY has recently become his favorite singer and not enjoying himself would have been an absolute tragedy in his opinion. "It's all of you who should be thanking me for offering some shred of entertainment at times like these."

"The entire population of South Korea is going to be thanking you then." Jungkook creeps forward as soon as the car in front of him moves up a ways. Finally moving again, he hums.

"Hey!" An abrupt voice calls from a slight distance. Two teenage boys pull up in a Jaguar, greasy grins on their faces. "Great singing Grandpa! Really know how to move!" The one in the passenger seat flashes his phone playing a video of Jungkook's dad online.

"Wha–how–What?! You delete that right now!" Mr. Jeon is stunned, tripping over his words at the shock of himself actually being the center of the internet. The video is unexpectedly clear.

"Just ignore them, Dad." Jungkook rolls up all the windows in the car and inches up the best he can to get the teenagers out of direct sight.

"But-but how did they do that so fast? It hasn't even been five minutes yet!"

"It only takes seconds, honey," Mrs. Jeon sighs, realizing her husband has become famous over a re-rendition of a PSY song. Of all things, it had to be that.

"I'm starving."

"Me too."

Jungkook glances at the time–2:40p.m. It's now been three hours of sitting in traffic and they've only moved about ten miles. What on earth is congesting the highway this much?

"Maybe we should take one of these exits." His dad scrolls through the map on his phone. "Says there are a few restaurants down exit 6A."

Jungkook considers the idea. He wants to get off the highway, yes, but so does everyone else. The exit his dad is talking about is off the far right lane which means he's going to need to shove in front of everyone's way.

"You sure it's a good place? Wherever it is you're looking?" The reason why he asks is that his dad is notorious for leading them into the most ruin down places. The last time he was in charge of directions, they ended up in front of an abandoned pizza shop.

Mrs. Jeon takes the phone from her husband's hand and swipes through the photos of a quaint restaurant. "It's not bad," she concludes. "And if it means we can get out of this mess, then I'm with your father on this one."

Two against one. Jungkook turns his signal on and waits for someone to let him over. He earns a few honks when he manages to squeeze his nose over but does his best to give an apologetic wave.

After a few more lane changes he gets in the exit lane. He isn't the only one planning to take exit 6B though, being that there are at least twenty other cars waiting in line.

"Maybe we were better off back where we were. All these people want to get off the same place. If we keep going there's bound to be another exit with far less traffic."

Really? Jungkook feels himself ticking again. After all that shoving to get over here and this is what he gets? No, he's not moving back over. They're going to wait in this stupid lane until it gets them to where they originally agreed.

"We just got here and we're not moving back anywhere. This lane should clear up in less time than it would take to go back on the main highway," Jungkook says. "Also, I probably don't need to clarify this but, we're not going to make it to that bookstore you wanted, Dad."

"It's fine, son. We'll go another day."

Which means tomorrow, Jungkook half grumbles to himself. His parents are here for another day after all and he knows his father well enough to know that "another day" really means the closest day possible.

Despite its size, the restaurant his parents choose is charming with its floor-to-ceiling wood paneling and giant, bay windows. The odd hanging plant is spread throughout the open dining space as well, perfectly setting the mood of serenity.

The restaurant only seems to hold about a dozen people inside, however. So thinking it is best to avoid sitting in an overly crowded space, Jungkook asks for one of the tables outside.

“Oh now this is lovely,” his mother praises, pulling her chair up to the table. Jungkook can’t describe how relieved he is to finally hear something positive after hours of nonstop grumbling.

Mr. Jeon takes a seat next to his wife and across from his son. “I just saw someone get Samgyeopsal and it was huge! Let’s get that to share.”

His enthusiasm is short-lived when the scrunched-up face from his wife says she's not a fan. “That's too much food! We still have to be hungry for dinner so we can eat with __."

"Mom's right," Jungkook agrees reluctantly. "__'s stopping at the grocery store after work so we can prep for dinner tonight. I know traffic slowed us down so we're eating at a weird time but it's better we go with something light."

"Oh well, we can always take some to go! Surely __ will enjoy some beautifully grilled pork!" Jungkook's father is adamant. He wants nothing more than a heavy meal after being stuck in the car all morning.

"__ doesn't like pork Dad. And we all know as soon as we get a whiff of it cooking there's not going to be any leftovers."

"Alright, alright," his dad concedes. "I guess I'll try their bibimbap. What are you having hon?"

Jungkook checks his phone messages while his parents make small talk over the menu. You texted him earlier to see how traffic was holding up and he only able to get back to you minutes ago.

Wifey ❤️ : So I'm guessing you haven't talked to your mom yet?

Jungkook: No, haven't brought it up. She seems fine though with the way she's been acting. It doesn't take much for her to go back to her usual self

Wifey ❤️: Her usual self being...?

Jungkook: You know, really particular.

Wifey ❤️: So she's complaining again. I'm sorry 😞

Jungkook: When I was talking with her on the phone before we left, she was much more careful about what she was saying. I expected it to still be that way now. Must have been a mood.

Wifey ❤️: Sounds like she wasn't sure how you'd be reacting after what happened last night. Maybe she's just reverting to back what she's used to because she's unsure what else to do or say. I'd still try finding a way to talk to her. Does it seem tense?

Jungkook: Yeah, you have a point. But Mom's also had a good way of sweeping things under the rug. It's not tense but it's just uncomfortably normal?

Wifey ❤️: Hmm, strange. And your dad's fine?

Jungkook: Honey...have you been on any social media in the last half hour?

Wifey ❤️: No, why?

Jungkook: Might wanna check. We had a little incident while in traffic. I'm still in shock honestly 😅

Jungkook waits for you to find the video of his dad. He already had the guys blowing up his phone from it so he's surprised none of them at least forwarded it to you.

Wifey ❤️: oh my god! Jungkook what happened?! 😂 I hope you're prepared for your students to be all over this

Jungkook: oh shit, that didn't even cross my mind 😩 also it's not funny honey! Listening to my dad singing eae e sexy lady was traumatizing enough. Now I have to see and hear it every time I pop open my phone or some teen punks show it to me!

Wifey ❤️: Aw Kookie, they're just being kids...try not to overthink. And you know those videos come and go. Your dad will be at the bottom of the chain by next week. Until then keep him away from PSY 😅 But I'm sorry you're having a day, I love you 🥺

Jungkook: I MISS YOU SO MUCH 😭

Wifey ❤️: [sent an image]

Fuck! Jungkook chokes on his spit when he sees a blurry close up of your cleavage. Thankfully his parents are still too occupied by the menu that they didn't notice.

Jungkook: sexy af but this isn't the time to be sexting me baby!

He nearly saves the photo if it weren't for the fact that he already had an album dedicated to very sensual *ahem erotic* photos of you. You had let him take them himself —best motherfuckin' birthday ever.

Wifey ❤️: oh adhjjhj, sorry!! That was an accident. I'm such a klutz. This is what I meant... [sent an image]

"What's going on over there?" Jungkook merely glimpses at the new image before whipping his head up, hearing his mother's, sharp tone.

"It's just __. She's asking about groceries again."

With slightly narrowed eyes, Mrs. Jeon continues. "We're about to order if you're ready."

Dammit. He'll have to reply to you later. Jungkook swiftly pockets the phone. "Okay yeah I'm good to go."

"This is delicious," Mr. Jeon says, patting his mouth with a napkin. "Best bibimbap I've had in a long time."

"That's great Dad." Jungkook stirs his noodles.

"Ah, where's the restroom around here?" He asks the waitress as she walks by. She tells him it's in the restaurant, all the way to the back. Mr. Jeon pushes his chair from the table and excuses himself. "All that broth has me needing to go."

"Yes yes, just go." Why his father needed to explain himself every time he needed to use the restroom is beyond him. Jungkook peers at his mother, taking her time eating her own bowl of noodles–they ended up ordering the same thing. "How is it?" he asks.

"It's good."

"Not too spicy?"

"No, it's mild."

Jungkook gathers more noodles on his chopstick. He freezes halfway when he sees his mother eyeing him intensely. "Everything okay?"

Mrs. Jeon folds her hands in her lap. "It's occurred to me that we still have an elephant in the room. I was hoping we'd be able to talk about it while your father browsed the bookstore. But plans changed."

And here he thought his mother had been playing down last night when really she was biding her time. "You know Dad's gonna be back in like ten minutes right?"

Mrs. Jeon nods. "I know it's not the most convenient of times or places, but I'm afraid if we delay it won't get discussed."

"Okay." Jungkook sets his chopsticks down. "Well...where do you want to start?"

"An apology would be nice." Her voice is mellow but the words are a clear demand rather than an offer. Of course, he wants to apologize to her for all the things he accused her of last night. But he wasn't expecting her to be this forward with it, especially since she was guilty of plenty herself. "I'm waiting Kookie," she coos, taking a sip of water.

Jungkook knits his eyebrows in response, unsure of what he's hearing. His mother looks far too relaxed about this whole thing. He decides to give her the benefit of the doubt. "You're right," he starts. "I'm sorry for what I said last night. I shouldn't have spoken that way and I'm sorry for making you leave. I think you and Dad showing up all a sudden threw me off and I reacted poorly."

Mrs. Jeon cracks a tight smile and reaches for her son's hand. "Thank you, Jungkook. I accept your apology." She gives his hand a squeeze before moving to pick up her chopsticks. "Now that we got that settled let's talk about the reunion. I'm thinking about talking to–"

What....the fuck? His mom did not just glide over this whole issue. She did not just put everything on him. And she did not just bring up that damn reunion again, which he's made very clear he wants nothing a part of. "Is that all you wanted? For me to make my amends with you?"

"What else would there be Kookie?" She scoffs, eyes wide.

"Goddamn it." He struggles to maintain a hushed voice. "Can you please stop calling me that? And what the hell do you mean 'what else would there be'? I'm not trying to put the blame on you but there's a good amount you should be saying to me too."

"What things are you referring to? Don't tell me this is about the reunion again. Look, whatever it is that I said was because I just want to see you more. And no more swearing. You know I don't like that kind of language."

"How can you be like this?" Jungkook can't stop himself. He figured his mom and he would have a better, heart-to-heart than this. It makes his skin crawl that his mother continues to play the victim. "It's genuinely shocking me how....do you even love me?"

Mrs. Jeon pauses at that. "Of course, I love you Jungkook. Why–why would you ask that?" She blinks back the slightest hint of tears forming along the edge of her eyes. Never in a million years did she think her son would doubt something this crucial.

"I feel like–"

"Feel what? What is it?"

"I feel like you care more about what I can do for you than you do me, as your son." Jungkook sniffs. This is a lot harder for him to say than he imagined. "There's been so many times that you've–"

"Don't say this honey! I care about you very much!" She reaches for his hand again but he yanks it away. "What are you trying to tell me?" His mother waits for him to form the rest of the sentence.

Jungkook hesitates to look at her straight on because behind what appears to be concerned eyes is disbelief. She isn't taking any of this seriously. It's written all over her face, tone, and all the way down to the way she's focusing on an answer rather than his inability to comfortably talk to her.

"What have I done so many times?"

"Honestly at this point, what haven't you done?" With an icy glare, Jungkook can't hold himself back anymore. The pot that's been brewing, deep in the darkest parts of him is finally overflowing and it's not going to be pretty to behold. "Do you realize how many times you chose your job, your status, and even your friends over me? And you make Dad go along with literally anything! Is it so horrible for someone to say no to you?!"

The couple next to them shoot uncomfortable looks his way, whispering to each other. Jungkook ignores it and starts counting with his fingers.

"Never once have you ever taken responsibility for showing up uninvited, nagging me about this that, and the other thing, making backhanded comments about my life choice, and most of all pretending our relationship is peachy fine. Well, I'm sorry mom, I'm thirty-four years old and I don't need to live by your rules! Our relationship is barely hanging by a thread and being quite real, it's __ and Dad who are the ones clinging to that thread, making sure it doesn't completely snap."

Mrs. Jeon opens her mouth to interject but Jungkook doesn't allow it to happen. It's not exactly intentional that he's pouring out so much in the middle of people's lunch. Still, he's been shoved over a steep cliff, head first.

"I'm sorry mom, I don't know how many times I need to say it. I don't enjoy any bit of this. It's just been a long stretch of–"

"That's enough! I don't want to hear any more." Mrs. Jeon immediately grabs her purse and twists her neck every which way. "Where's your father? I want to leave."

"Mom I'm trying to talk to you! Why won't you let me talk?"

His mother doesn't reply. She doesn't look at him. It's the silent treatment, Jungkook concludes–it's fucking irritating. "I'm not trying to be hurtful," he says, forcing himself to calm down. "Mom look at me."

She doesn't move.

It only takes seconds for their waitress to near her way up to the table with anxious steps. "I'm sorry to be doing this but unfortunately, we've received a few complaints of a disturbance out here." The young girl clasps her hands. "To ensure all our guests are comfortable we're going to need to ask you to take your conversation elsewhere. I'm really sorry."

Fuck. How embarrassing. Jungkook clears his throat and stands up from his seat. "We understand and are genuinely sorry for the commotion. We'll pay at the front and be on our way. Thank you for waiting our table."

The young girl gives a nervous smile and retreats inside the restaurant. Jungkook makes a note to give her a generous tip.

"Hey, what's going on out here?" Mr. Jeon rushes over, hair blowing over due to the breeze. "I heard there was some inconsiderate party out here airing out their dirty laundry for all to see. I tell you, people these days don't know what privacy means anymore!" He shakes his head and takes a seat.

"Get up Dad we're leaving."

"But I'm not done my–––oh shit." Mr. Jeon clenches his teeth. "You two?"

Mrs. Jeon gets up from her chair, still wordless, and walks towards the parking lot. "I'll get this Dad." Jungkook stops his father from pulling out his wallet. "It is best if you go try to ease Mom. I don't think she'll be talking to me for a while."

Mr. Jeon puts a hand on his son's shoulder. It's his way of offering comfort. "You're mother has made things difficult for you, Jungkook. I'll try getting through to her. In the meantime don't let this eat you up. It's been a long time coming."

Jungkook doesn't get home until quarter past six. The drive home was better than the drive to the restaurant, but hitting the notorious five o'clock traffic slowed them down once more. He also had to drop his parents at their hotel which was no easy task. His mother barely gave him a glance before hopping out of the car. The amount of guilt settling in his gut isn't going away any time soon.

"Hey." Jungkook finds you searching through the kitchen cupboard. "I hope you're okay with spice tonight! I got this really awesome–oh baby what's wrong?" You stop what you're doing when you see your husband come up behind you with sunken eyes. He wraps his larger arms around you, desperately needing your scent.

"I blew it," he croaks. "She's so mad at me."

"I'm sorry Jungkook. I'm sorry I couldn't be there." You turn in his arms to pull him into a full embrace. His nose tickles the side of your neck but you don't laugh. "You wanna tell me?"

Jungkook takes your hand and sits you both on the couch in the living room. "The morning started out rough with three hours of traffic and the two of them in the back seat, telling me where and how I should drive. Then my dad got unexpectedly famous off a PSY song. We finally got to some restaurant about half an hour west of here before 3pm. Everything was going okay until dad went to the bathroom."

"Okay," you say, scooting closer beside him. You rub small circles on his upper back as he leans forward on his spread-apart knees. "What happened?"

"Mom suggested we talk about last night so I said sure." You watch as Jungkook fiddles with his hands. "But she didn't actually care about a conversation or what I had to say. All she wanted, all she expected, was for me to apologize to her so we'd be okay again. It all came out after that and I feel so horrible about it. We ended up getting kicked out of the restaurant too."

"Jungkook..."

"I tried __. I wanted to be patient and to be a good son but she can't even look at me right now." He falls back on the couch, staring at the blank wall in front. "Dad's convinced it was bound to happen."

"You are a good son, Jungkook." You comb a few strands of his soft, ebony hair. He closes his eyes as you do. "You're mom's the one who needs to readjust her view."

"I never thought I'd yell at my mom about all that stuff. And certainly not in public where everyone is trying to have a pleasant lunch. I'm a grown-ass adult and I should have had better control of myself."

You settle into his inner shoulder, laying a hand on his chest. "Even grown adults have limits and your mom's far surpassed those limits. Don't blame yourself for this."

"Dad said the same thing."

"Well, that's two against one."

Jungkook smiles. Two against one, that's where he got that from. Not that you're the first person to use the phrase but he never used it as regularly until you moved in together.

"I missed you so much today. I don't deserve you."

You cock your head up as quick as the words fly from his mouth. "Don't you dare say things like that! You're a good man despite how awful your mother treats you." You lean your face near his, eyes wandering deep into his dark brown ones. "If you're not otherwise too tired, I'm going to show you how much I love you."

Jungkook opens his lids at that–apparently not too tired. You smirk and get off the couch.

"Here?" His classic doe-eyes peer down at your kneeled position. Seeing you settle this perfectly between his muscular thighs triggers an intense blood rush that goes straight to his dick. Jungkook didn't think he was going to get horny tonight but here he was with his half-harden length in your hands in the middle of the living room.

"Mhm." You position yourself just enough for him to have a clear view of your tits. You had taken both your shirt and bra off before starting. You know how your husband likes it. "That okay with you?"

Jungkook groans when you grip his cock harder, gliding it from the base to the tip in repeated motions. "Fuck yeah. It's more than okay." You giggle at how quickly your husband gets in the mood. He thinks you're the bitch in the bedroom? You quicken your movements.

"Oh shit this feels so good." He grips the couch cushion, keeping his focus on you. "Need that gorgeous mouth wrapped around me baby, please. Shit–"

You honor your husband's requests and trace your tongue from the base of his cock all the way up to his tip. Once there, you suck lightly before taking him in whole.

"That's it. Take my cock, fuck." Jungkook goes on to praise you as you bottom out. You gag a little at first being that you haven't done this in what....weeks? Damn. Whatever happened to the days when you'd literally go down on each other every day?

"We need to get you reacquainted with my cock honey," he teases, bucking his hips forward to push himself further into your mouth. "All these weeks without my cock in your mouth has you gagging all over me. Been it's been too long hasn't it?"

"Mm," is the only thing you reply with, the weight of his thick length dragging back and forth on your tongue. By now your pussy is pulsating like crazy and you're tempted to just get up and fuck yourself on him. But tonight was about your husband–you're going to make sure of it. And Jungkook loves nothing more than getting head with your bare tits in full view, obviously.

A few sucks later and Jungkook starts fucking himself into your mouth. They began as soft, needy bucks of his hips but now they're rough, full-force thrusts. His length shoves to the back of your throat and you moan desperately around him. "Did you miss my cock baby? I bet you did. My sexy wife....you're mine and you're gonna make me come, aren't you? Fuck yeah, you are."

Your eyes water as you continue to take him, hallowing your cheeks the best you can. Jungkook has his eyes screwed shut and sweat dripping from his forehead. Your panties are so fucking soaked right now and your nipples are defiantly hard from sheer arsousal.

"God I'm so close baby. You're mouth is---fuck I don't even have the words. It's fucking magic! And your tits are so hot from this angle. Kinda reminds me of what you sent to me earlier. Can I come on them? I'm so close." Jungkook takes your broken moans as a yes and starts ramming into you two more times before pullout and covering your breasts with warm liquid. "Fuck fuck fuck," he grunts, spilling himself on you.

What a mess. You look down at yourself. What a motherfuckin' mess and you love it. Jungkook pulls you into a passionate kiss, tongue rolling with yours in heavenly harmony. "Thank you for this," he says between kisses. "I'll help you wash up, I promise."

"Mm Jungkook," you pant. "I think I need you inside me."

Hey, he got his dick sucked and he creamed your tits–it's mama's turn now, or excuse you–wifey.

A/N: this got nasty whoops. not sorry. Anyway LMK what you think, thanks for reading! 💞 also pls vote if youd be so kind

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 3 – You Know You're On My Mind

⛸️ Summary: Would you rather A) represent Seoul at the Spring Championship, B) find the answer as to why Mingi was ignoring you or C) stay in your shared flat for the winter holidays? How smart of you to go with option D), none of the above.

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers but it's more like one-sided resentment, hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst!!!

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: Female reader, no use of (Y/N), explicit language, brief alcohol consumption, petnames (princess, beans), a lot of tears and crying, probably incorrect use of hockey terms, fist fight, blood, verbal fight, Mingi is really mean but also aware he's being a douche, Dasom is a good friend, more side characters!!!

⛸️ Wordcount: 16.6K

⛸️ Author's note: I freaking love angst 😈 Hence why I've looked forward to the third part of Cold Hands, Warm Hearts! A warning, I have absolutely ZERO knowledge about hockey so the things you'll read concerning the hockey game may or may not be wrong idk. I've tried watching a lot of hockey games on YouTube, but they move so fucking fast I can barely wrap my head around what's happening lmaooo.

I also wanted to write my own comments for the chapter (something I should have done since the first part tbh), but I've been home with a fever for some days now and I honestly can barely sit up, let alone write extra stuff so I'm sadly skipping out on that. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this part and don't be shy to tell me your thoughts 🩷

This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes as well as adult language. Minors and ageless blogs refrain from reading this work!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Click on me!

December 9th, 2024. 

The day was marked in Mingi’s little red calendar he kept away in his backpack — not that he needed the reminder, the day was practically burned into his mind — and the fanciest suit he owned was ironed three nights prior with the help of his best friend and roommate, Jeong Yunho. One would think it was an important day — as to explain why he woke up at a presentable hour with enough time to spare for a few errands and a brunch with his roommate — an exam determining his final grade or something to do with his hockey, but no it was just the day of your competition. 

Currently sitting in a sandwich shop, thumbs twirling and eyes set on the flower shop across the street, Mingi contemplated whether bringing a bouquet  — maybe roses or those tulips, they were quite popular nowadays — would be too much or not at all. The two parts of his brain clashed and before he could make a decision Yunho came back with their orders, a teriyaki chicken sandwich for Mingi while he ordered something nasty looking with a really fancy and long name that Mingi couldn’t bother remembering. 

“There you go.” Yunho settled in the seat across Mingi and dove right into his food, letting out a moan of approval. “Best sandwich in town, no kidding.”

“Do girls like flowers?”

Caught mid bite, cheeks coated with crumbs and mayonnaise, Yunho looked up at Mingi who already had his eyes set on him with a seriousness that rarely outshone his happy and goofy exterior. 

“Uhm, I suppose. I mean the girls I’ve given flowers to liked the gesture. Why? You looking to impress someone, Mings?” A teasing smile quirked at the edge of his lips. “Is it a quick fuck?”

“Dude?!” Mingi hissed and quickly threw a glance around the room making sure no one overheard their convo and labeled them as creeps.

“Oh, come on, we’ve talked about worse things than some sex deets.”

“It was a simple question, Yunho-ya. Do flowers equal happy girls? Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, cool.”

Sensing this wasn’t a topic Mingi was all too keen to talk about, Yunho gave him some space and took another bite of his sandwich. Then he remembered their conversation three days ago and how Mingi begged him to help him iron his suit and teach him how to properly handle a tie, and if that wasn’t enough of a reason then he could always use the we’ve-been-friends-since-diapers card and pry whatever information he wanted out of him.

“Is this about that figure skating girl?”

“Absolutely not… Do you think she’d like roses or tulips?”

Mouth full of bacon, tomato, lettuce and bread, Yunho mumbled out a barely audible answer. “Roses. Definitely roses.”

“I’m just saying if Hyunjin brings you roses I’ll jump in front of the ice resurfacer!” 

Keeho laid flat on your bed, legs dangling in the air and chin propped on both palms as his eyes burned holes on your back. While rummaging through your closet you threw a random shirt over your shoulder, purposely aiming it at him and you knew it was a success as he let out a surprised ‘ack’.

“That’s what you get for being noisy,” Dasom chirped and rolled over him, her feet hitting your pillow and arms reaching the end of your bed.

“You guys promised to help me pack! I’m so going to be late.” 

An empty duffel bag sat on your bed beside the entanglement of limbs that were your friends. Despite waking up a whole twelve hours before your planned departure, you were running late or would be if you didn’t leave in the next fifteen minutes.

“Fine, but I’m just helping because I know you’ll make it big one day and I can use it to be a multimillionaire influencer. Yoon Keeho, best friend of the South Korean Olympic figure skater. It has a nice ring to it, no?”

Another shirt hit him in the face, this one coming straight out of the dirtied piles of clothes in the corner.

“No more throwing shirts!”

“Up we go, Kyo.” 

Dasom repositioned to sit criss-crossed in front of your bag and began neatly placing necessary things inside; towel, spare change of clothes, bobby pins, hairspray, your skates. 

“Where’s your suit?” She asked while zipping the bag.

“My coach still has it. Something about seeing it before the comp would bring bad luck or whatever. Like it’s a competition not a wedding and Keeho, get out I need to change.”

“I bet a round of lamb skewers Hyunjin is proposing after the comp– I’m leaving, I’m leaving, put that down!”

As the door closed you quickly stripped and threw on a sweatsuit bearing the logo of Tiny University printed on the front and back. Knowing you were practically working on autopilot while your nerves skyrocketed, Dasom didn’t want to step out of bounds and send you into a potential spiral of panic and stress but she was also very curious, and her greed won over her morals. With a soft call of your name she asked the million dollar question. 

“Did you only invite Hyunjin?”

You froze with your hands in your hair, a bobby pin between your fingers and an extra in your mouth as your gaze fell on her. Flashing you a derpy yet reassuring smile that warmed you up like the sun on a summer afternoon filled with sugary strawberries and pink lemonade. 

“No… Not just Hyunjin, I actually invited Mingi too, but I… don’t know why.” 

You plopped down beside her and played with your fingers. It all felt so silly and you didn’t even have the time to think about him or Hyunjin or anything boy related overall. Not that it was a bad thing, in fact it was great, but that meant your mind was completely occupied of nailing your choreo, imaging everything that could go wrong and to not let anything go fucking wrong. 

“Maybe it just felt right,” she whispered, as if the words were made of steel and you were of twigs that would break at the slightest contact.

Sighing, you nodded and fell back on your bed with Dasom in tow. There wasn’t much left to say. You couldn’t remember what drunk-you thought when inviting Mingi nor did you want to know. All you knew was that your heart did that little leap thing before violently kicking at your rib cage when he said he’d be there and that was concerning but not more so than your competition taking place in a few hours. 

If Mingi showed up, great.

If he didn’t then that was great too, is what you forced yourself into believing.

Mingi stood before a body-length mirror and kept running his hand through his neatly made hair. Yunho placed a palm over Mingi’s shoulder and the shifting motion immediately subdued only to proceed as the hand withdrew. 

“Stop moving around dude, you’re making me nervous!” 

Taking a step back, Yunho quietly assessed Mingi, searching for creases in his black suit or stray hairs standing up funny. There were no faults, his tall friend — that was still slightly shorter than himself — looked perfect appearance wise. It was the slight twitch of his finger and sweat collecting at the nape of his neck that gave him away.

“Why are you so nervous, Mingi-ya? It’s just a figure skating competition, nothing more nothing less.”

Taking a hold of the perfectly wrapped bouquet of heart-colored roses he paid a good penny for, Mingi pouted and shrugged his shoulders as if a toddler being put on the spot for doing something bad.

 “I don’t know.”

“You want me to come with?”

Yunho, dressed in an old tattered shirt and bright red basketball shorts with his naturally dark hair growing at the roots and taking on the look of pudding, was ready to drop everything and jump in his brand new suit planned for their graduation if that’s what Mingi needed.

“No, no. I’ll be fine, it’s just… Don’t you think it’s too much? Flowers, a suit? It’s a figure skating competition not a wedding.”

“Does it matter? Personally, if it were me, I’d rather see the girl I invited put in the effort even if it means wearing nice clothes over something raggedy. This shows you care.”

“I guess…”

Mingi jumped as Yunho reassuringly landed his hands on his shoulders, giving him an encouraging squeeze and smiling so his cheeks puffed up. “Come on, let’s get that tie fixed and then I’ll give you a lift.”

“Ah, the privileges of not having a driver’s license.”

“You mean the privileges of being a passenger princess?”

“Yah, Yunho-ya!” Came the whine as Mingi followed his friend like a kicked puppy on a rainy Monday morning. 

The arena was packed and while it wasn’t an unusual sight for Mingi — always being a witness of how the bleachers slowly filled up during his warm ups —  it was weird seeing it from an outside perspective. Everything seemed so much smaller and compact compared to when he was on the ice squinting past the blinding headlights to barely even catch a glimpse of the audience. Other than practice and hockey game, Mingi had no reason to visit the arena. There was no other sport that piqued his interest enough to stand in line, pay an overpriced entry fee and freeze his ass off on a plastic chair. He’d usually just enter through the changing rooms and skip all that yet there he was, all glammed up and standing behind a family wearing shirts with the name of some random chick printed in big bold letters. 

Thinking about it, Mingi couldn’t actually give less of a fuck about figure skating and months ago he didn’t care who represented Seoul or if they were even capabale to compete with the other cities. 

“All my friends are going to be there.”

“Nice friends you have.”

“We are friends,” you said matter-of-factly, your ‘S’ coming out with a lisp. “Alllll my friends are going.”

“You want me to come to your competition princess?”

“You’ll come?!”

You slinked your arm through his and squished it against your chest, cheek pressed to his bicep as you looked at him. One would believe Mingi hung up each and every single star individually in your name for you to look at him that way.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I’ll be there.”

It was your stupid yet endearing eyes that did it all. The little shining glint that completely vexed him and before he knew it, the promise slipped off his tongue and was spoken into existence. Mingi didn’t get to indulge more in the memory of the beauty that was your face as the lights dimmed and an enthusiastic voice boomed through the speakers, welcoming everyone and announcing the start of the preliminary that would determine the female representative of Seoul at the annual Spring Championship. 

Honestly, Mingi didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t know a lot of things; how long this would be, what time your performance would start, was he supposed to find you after or before they announced the winner? It also didn’t help that he was sweating through his dress shirt despite the freezing temperature inside. 

Performance after performance passed and he was yet to catch sight of you. Honestly speaking, Mingi was growing impatient. The numbers weren’t anything extraordinary — he had seen you do much better even when ending on your rear — and he wasn’t here to watch some mediocre ladies flip around to classical music. The weight of his phone burned in his suit pocket and he was itching to reach for it. He was three taps away from dialing Yunho and making the taller man pick him up again. Oblivious to the curious and soft eyes peering at the bouquet in his lap, Mingi stared at the ice rink with a far away look on his face and bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Those are beautiful,” a voice came from his left. It was comforting and full of kindness. 

Snapping his head towards the person, Mingi faced a woman looking old enough to be his mom. The compliment pulled at the corners of his lips and soon a full blown boxy smile took over his face as his eyes creased into crescent moons. 

“Thank you.”

Mingi contemplated whether to hand her the darned flowers and leave while you still hadn’t caught sight of him, that way his money wouldn’t go to waste and the flowers wouldn’t end up in the bin outside the venue.

“I’m Chaeryeong’s mom.”

“Song Mingi,” he curtly answered with a little bow of his head.

“Are those for your girlfriend?”

As kind as this woman looked she sure was twice the amount noisy.

“No, they are for a… friend. She’s competing today.”

“Oh, when is she up?”

At the sight of his uncertainty, she handed Mingi a pamphlet with several numbers followed by first- and last names of the competitors. Quickly scanning the sheet of paper he landed on your name in last place and with the twenty-ninth performer taking her starting pose right as Mingi looked back up again. The urge to squish his face against the pamphlet was immense. 

“She’s last.”

“Oh! That’s Hoseok’s kid. She’s amazing and if it weren’t for my Chaeryeongie I’d root for her.”

Pride swelled in his chest and heat nipped at his cheeks. He tried suppressing the fond smile forcing its way out but failed.

“It’s actually my first time watching her perform but yeah, she’s pretty… p-pretty cool!”

“Really? Well, it’s better late than never.”

Why Mingi was getting flustered was beyond him. Not wanting to think about it and eventually fall down a rabbit hole he always did when thinking of you, he nodded and took the praise with the lady leaving a pat on his shoulder.

“Mmm, you’re smiling! Are you sure she’s just a friend?”

Mingi lowered his chin and avoided the teasing eyes of Chaeryeong’s mom. No way was he talking about girl problems with a random lady at a figure skating competition. 

“Would you spare my seat? I just need to go to the restroom.”

“Of course, son.”

With one last bow he ran up the stairs leading to the main hall and straight for the male restroom which  — to his delight  — was empty. Mingi released a breath of unease and stopped by the sink hoping to wash away the sweat collected on his hands. Looking at his reflection in the oblong mirror, he pursed his lips and splashed cold water on his face before lightly slapping his cheeks.

“It’s easy. We hand her the flowers, tell her she did great and then we leave.”

Mingi couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous over talking to a girl. Thinking about it, he talked to you all the time. Yes, most of it was hidden behind jokes and teasing remarks, but it still counted as talking.

“Welcoming our last performer of the night…”

The booming voice of the announcer echoed through the whole building and with a quick ‘shit’ falling from his lips, Mingi dried his hands off his expensive pants and ran back into the arena receiving weird stares from other people, but he wasn’t about to miss the start of your performance after waiting for over two hours. In sync with you gliding out on the ice he flew past the double doored entrance and caught himself on the metal railing. Mingi realized there was no need to go back to his previous spot, not when he had a great view of the whole ice rink from where he stood and a great look of you posing in the middle, one arm elegantly thrown over your head and the other following the length of your figure and stopping midthigh.

Stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, angelic, breathtaking, enchanting, marvelous and other adjectives wouldn’t do the justice to describe how truly captivating you looked. 

The first thing that caught his attention was your costume. It was a long sleeved dress transitioning from dark to light blue with sparkly beads going down your chest, across your abdomen and arms in a tilted motion as if the foam of multiple waves. Your costume had a tiny skirt which Mingi was sure would swirl prettily when pirouetting and twirling in the air. The upper part of your dress took on the shape of a heart and went down your back in a v-form leaving your collars, shoulders and back completely exposed. Your hair was styled in a sturdy updo matching the elegance of your suit and while Mingi couldn’t see your make-up, he assumed it would reflect the colors of your dress and accentuate your facial features in just the right way.

The starting notes of your chosen song erupted from the speakers and Mingi’s breath got caught in his throat as you glided across the ice, his heart beating in rhythm to your every landed jump. You moved with grace and for once the teasing nickname he reserved just for you had no malice objective behind it. You surrendered yourself to the music and allowed it to guide you, your body resembled the elements of nature and became an entity that was no longer your own. Moving like the ripples of a wind, flowing and rising as though you were water yet curving fiercely as a controlled fire and flourishing like a sunflower yearning for light.

It was beautiful. You were beautiful. 

Mingi would rather have spent two hours watching you skate than those other amateurs and he was slightly bitter your number only lasted for four minutes. 240 seconds of no breathing or thinking, just existing to admire you as if you were a painting exhibited in the most famous art museum in the world.

As you were entering the last moments of your performance, the music picked up and you mentally prepared yourself to do the main stunt. There was no turning back now and with confidence pumping in your veins, you inhaled and propelled yourself off the ice. Time slowed down and magically you could somehow hear the amazed gasps of the audience. Your body spun, and spun and spun and you felt the start of gravity doing its work. As if caught in a sense of Déjà Vu, the sharp point of your skates chipped the ice and threw your landing off course, and before you knew it, you landed on the outer side of your thigh. The crowd gasped again, the tone much more horrible than a few seconds ago, and all you wanted to do was continue to lay on the cold surface, but the show was yet to be over. In hopes of saving your score, you recovered with a double-axel which wasn’t nearly as appealing as the one you failed, but at least you landed it.

The performance ended with you posing in the middle — much like you practiced — and waiting for the last piano notes to run out. Despite your big fail the arena erupted in chaos of applause and whistles. Thanking the spectators with three respectful bows — each facing a different side — you skated off the ice with shaky legs and a heart hammering in your ears falling right in the arms of your coach. Mingi didn’t move until you rounded the corner towards the locker rooms and disappeared from his sight. 

A short static echoed in the hall as the AUX was rather harshly unplugged from your phone, making you lose your footing and fall on your ass.

The ice beneath was hard and cold, and it numbed your whole left leg except for the burning pain that flared up in your backside. You had to physically hold back tears as you stood back up on shaky legs.

“Majestic as always, princess, but I’ll have to deduct ten points for that eye captivating fall.” 

A chorus of laughter and gloves pounding against the plexiglas averted your attention for a split second, and the picture of an audience watching wasn’t much of an imagination as the whole hockey team stood by the entrance of the rink. 

Mingi sighed at the memory and stalked back to his seat where the kind family and bouquet of roses waited on him. 

“You missed her performance!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed and handed him the flowers.

Mingi smiled shyly, then scratched the back of his neck. “Ah no, I watched from up there.” He turned and pointed at the spot he was standing in not even thirty seconds ago. “It was a better view so yeah…”

Chaeryeong’s mom smiled tenderly with a knowing gleam in her eyes. “What a relief! You got me worried for a minute but I should’ve known you wouldn’t miss it.”

“She was amazing,” Mingi stated and received a smug look from the woman.

“Mmm, I told you so. It’s a shame she fell. Well, we’re going out for a breather but we’ll be back so please save our seats for us.”

You sat in one of the locker rooms, head in your hands and feet tapping on the floor. The performance couldn’t have been more perfect, all for it to go to shit in the end.

All the hours, sweat and energy put into practice was a waste and you didn’t have to wait for the winner to be announced to know whether it was true or not. It was ironic really, despite being in a competitive sport, you hated the concept of competitions. The idea that there could only be one winner always got to your head like a parasite planting eggs of anxiety. Your number was great, but your fall made the other girls as good if not better and that really got you spiraling. 

Not to mention neither of your parents could make it, the timing clashing with their working schedules besides driving back and forth from your hometown was too exhausting for one day. Keeho and Dasom weren’t there either, occupied with work or school projects making it unreasonable for you to be angry with them. You also didn’t spot Hyunjin or Mingi in the audience which wasn’t that much of a surprise as you could barely make out the people in the front row, but nonetheless, the lack of support was weighing on you. That’s why in these situations, you were so grateful for Mr. Jung. Not only being your coach, but for stepping up as a ten man army of supporters.

A series of knocks snapped you out of your thoughts followed by Mr. Jung’s voice on the other side.

“You ready, star? They are announcing the winner.”

“Oh, look! I think they are announcing the winner!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed as she sat back down in her seat.

The competing figure skaters went back out on the ice in a neat row, all dressed in various shimmering suits creating a palette of multiple colors. The whole crowd quieted down as the announcer asked for silence and simultaneously caught everyone’s attention. Not Mingi’s though, no his eyes were set on you who — together with the other girls — lined up behind the host. 

Hands trembling and breath caught in your throat, you didn’t allow yourself to think of anything. You felt like your head was underwater. It wasn’t scary or suffocating, but not a great feeling either as you couldn’t hear anything clearly thanks to the blood pumping in your ears. Somehow you could make out the distant voice of the man holding the mic, but no words were being registered. Focusing on the white translucent puffs of your short inhales and exhales, you didn’t hear the thick voice announcing the winner. It all happened incredibly fast. One second everyone was at the edge of their seats — you imagined them to be nibbling their nails like in the cartoons — and the next thing you know, the whole arena exploded in cheers. You were so out of it you hadn’t even heard the announcement of the winner. Although it didn’t matter, because a second later the call for a girl who wasn’t you sounded through the speakers as she was welcomed up on the podium. 

“Everyone! A round of applause for Seoul's representative of the Spring Championship 2025!”

You felt yourself sink deeper and deeper into the ocean as a booming wave of applause and whistles scattered around, shaking you to the core. Tears sprung to your eyes and you silently thanked the makeup artist for using waterproof cosmetics, the last thing you needed was for everyone to notice your emotional breakdown. The winner skated up to the host and he rewarded her with a bouquet of various flowers and a sash reading ‘Seoul Representative 2025’ in gold letters. You imagined him to be wishing her good luck and words of encouragement before letting her shine in the light of attention and praise.

After bowing to the girls, judges and audience you skated out of the rink and threw yourself in Mr. Jung’s embrace who patiently waited by the open board door. His heart smile didn’t hold quite reach its natural form and came out more pained than what he’d like to and his creased eyes mirrored your own sad expression. The flashes of a dozen cameras quickly annoyed you as well as the sound of the gadgets going off and you tried your best ignoring them, but each flicker was like a stab to your heart.

You were supposed to be the winner. The camera was supposed to be on you, not on that girl.

“It’s alright, starshine. Winning is not always guaranteed,” he whispered and hugged you tighter as you started crying harder, hot tears soaking his shirt. 

He stayed with you a while inside the locker room. The silence and your occasional sniffles were the only sources of sound, besides the light chattering noise outside. 

“I’m still proud of you.”

The simple sentence brought another fresh set of tears to your eyes and you hung your head in defeat, and slight embarrassment. 

“I know you think it’s not fair and that you should be the winner of tonight's event, but that would have been too easy and that’s just not something life is… We’ll break down and start again.”

Mr. Jung had always been exceptional at shifting between being a serious and humorous coach, but the current words spoken came from someone who had experienced failure before. From one loser to another, his little words of wisdom helped you get on your feet even if you felt like you were at the lowest point of your adult life. It would still take days to get over your disappointing performance, but you’d be alright. With a pat to your head, he ushered you to wash the blue feelings off. 

While you did that, Mingi found himself once again in the bathroom, wet hands combing through strands of hair in an attempt to look less disheveled and more like he had his shit together (he did in fact not have his shit together). He sniffed the collar of his suit jacket and then his armpits, and as he didn’t detect the smell of sweat, but the aroma of his favorite cologne — that smelled of bergamot and lavender — he straightened the jacket and went out to accomplish his mission or rather plan B. 

Instead of congratulating you, like he initially planned to, he’d do something else — and what that was, he had yet to figure out — but from his own experience, he’d known better than to give you praise, especially after losing by a few points. 

Skipping two steps down the stairs, he stopped by the see-through doors instead of continuing down the hallway with several changing rooms. Mingi didn’t know what room you were assigned to and even if he did, he wasn’t planning on barging in while you were possibly getting dressed or showering. The vision of a soapy you sent heat rushing to his head, both of them, but were quickly discarded as you came out. 

You looked different from the girl twirling on the ice minutes ago. Wet hair and dressed in comfy clothes, no fancy make up or extravagant details, but a solemn expression and puffy eyes. It didn’t matter though because you were still beautiful, he thought and fixed his tie out of sheer anxiety, and opened the door. Your name swayed at the tip of his tongue and was just in need of a small push to reach your ears. Eyes entirely focused on you, Mingi missed the boy walking towards him and slinking through the opening created by the taller man.

“Thanks, bud.” Hyunjin didn’t spare Mingi another glance as he headed straight for you. 

At a loss for words and frozen in place, Mingi just watched you fall comfortably in Hyunjin’s arms and as if a masochist he stood rooted and felt his heart squeeze painfully as you melted in his hold, your sobs filling the bleak silence taking residue in Mingi’s head. 

One, two, three and four seconds later, Mingi headed home, hands stuffed in his pockets and roses left in the trashcan by the smoking area outside. Thinking back to it, he should’ve given them to Chaeyeon’s mom — or whatever her name was — at least then they’d be rotting away on someone’s kitchen table and not in a random bin on the streets of Seoul.

Entering the shared apartment with Yunho nowhere in sight — something Mingi was grateful for — he stripped out of the expensive clothes and pushed them to the back of his closet, saving his future-self from a painful reminder of what did and didn’t happen. Somewhere in the rational part of his mind, he knew not to be angry with you, but the other part, the selfish and angry one, put the entire blame on you. If there was one thing hated more than losing, it was to be made into a fool.

“I can’t believe I lost,” you said and downed a shot of soju. 

Hyunjin quickly snatched the soju bottle from beside you before you could pour yourself another shot, your sixth one to be exact.

You frowned and placed your palms against your heated cheeks. “I’m never figure skating again.”

After the little meet up with Hyunjin, he requested (more like demanded) on treating you to food, and while you insisted he admitted he’d do it either way if you lost or won. That was how you ended up in a meat house, sitting around a table for two as Hyunjin grilled the food. 

“Don’t be silly. If you give up now you’ll never win.”

You rolled your eyes and the frown turned even deeper. Gazing down at the sizzling meat, your mouth watered and stomach rumbled impatiently. You could already taste the savory flavors just by looking at it. 

“I can’t believe you dragged me here looking like this.” 

Hyunjin raised a brow, genuinely not understanding what you meant. To him you looked just fine in a pair of leggings and hoodie, and it didn’t matter that your hair was still wet or your face bare of makeup because you were perfect.

“What’s wrong with the way you look? I think you’re cute.”

A fire lightened in your core and rose up to your cheeks, ears and neck, and the air in the restaurant changed too, suddenly feeling as if you were a chicken sitting in an oven. As your heart didn’t do its usual badum-badum-badum, you realized the effect Hyunjin had on you didn’t appear. You were surprisingly calm. Unbothered even and instead of buzzing with joy you were counting down the seconds until it was time to leave. 

Not to get you wrong, you loved his company. You’d been dreaming of days like these since the first time you laid eyes on him and now that you had it, all you wanted was nothing more than to jump in bed and just go into hibernation, and forget about the world.

Something was telling you though, that even if you were eating meat and celebrating your win, you still wouldn’t feel the spirit of a winner. Deep inside, you knew the root of it. The reason as to why a gray cloud hovered over you — besides losing — and it all led back to the absence of a certain hockey player.

“Here, try this.” Hyunjin gently hand fed you a piece of beef and other fillings wrapped in lettuce. “It’s good, huh?”

“You good there, princess?”

You reeled back, momentarily stunned by the unexpected presence. Mingi grinned at your reaction and sat back. Very satisfied with his work. As he readied his own computer, you took in his appearance and found yourself growing more irritated. There was no denying that he was attractive. Thick pink lips, a straight and sharp nose and a very prominent jaw. His brown eyes were surprisingly relaxed and didn’t resemble those of a fox. The boy was even blessed with not one, but two moles. His knitted sweater was an ugly shade of moss green but it looked good on him, much to your dismay. 

You sighed and sucked through your teeth, “Why are you here?”

Why wasn’t he there?

It was as if the universe was out to get you. 

First, you lost a spot at the Spring Championship. Then you failed an assignment that took a month of your life to get done, and if that wasn’t enough, the representative face of Seoul at next year’s championship was plastered all over town. She was even on the newspaper thrown in your mailbox, which you hadn’t subscribed to! If it weren’t for your personal duo of Chip and Dale, you’d skip school just to avoid it all. 

To say, you were feeling down right shit would be an understatement, and everyone around you could feel it. That was probably why Mr. Jung canceled a whole week’s worth of practice and you couldn’t have been more relieved.

Figure skating was the last thing you needed right now.

Besides your friends and coach giving you space or peppering you with love, there was another person to be added in that equation. Hyunjin made sure to spend more time with you, always asking to go out for lunch or a stroll in the park that usually ended up with window shopping and eating ice cream. 

“Felix and Changbin have been dying to meet you, you know,” Hyunjin stated as he scooped a spoon of chocolate ice cream.

“Really?” 

You remembered Changbin solely by his Halloween party and you pushed aside the other memories that came along with that night. The other boy, Felix, you knew a little next to nothing about. 

“Yeah, they haven’t stopped pestering me about it, especially Changbin.”

“Mmm, have you been talking about me, Hyunjin-ah?” 

The black haired boy grew red at the teasing and nearly choked on the plastic spoon. 

“Wh-what!” 

It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered and it sure was a different sight from his usual composed self. Your chuckle filtered between the giggles and chatter of multiple friend groups. It was a surprise to see so many people outside in the snow. Hyunjin eventually calmed down and returned to his natural skin color, and he proceeded with caution at his next question, slightly afraid to walk straight into another teasing trap.

“They are going to watch that hockey game… if you want, it would be a great time to meet them.”

Truth to be told, you had completely forgotten about that sport and it had everything to do with Mingi, the only connection you had to the hockey team of your university. The last time you saw him was a few days before your performance and you hadn’t seen him since, at one moment you thought he disappeared to another country, but Keeho’s confirmation of seeing him on campus debunked that theory. It wasn’t that weird though, considering you hadn’t stepped foot in the ice rink and didn’t share any classes with him, courtesy of majoring in two completely different studies.

You wouldn’t say it to anyone, not even Dasom, but the less you saw of him, the more bored you got. Obviously, you didn’t miss his irksome comments or that stupid pet name he’d use at any given moment, yet the days seemed to go slower without the pain in the ass of a man. Going to that hockey game would maybe change that, and what better excuse than to go with Hyunjin?

“Of course! I mean,” you cleared your throat. “Of course, I’ll check if I’m free and then I’ll let ya know.”

“Great. It’s next Friday and, unluckily, I pulled the short straw so I’ll be driving… So if you can and want, there's space in my car.”

Parting your mouth to answer, the left side of your brain suddenly halted all your speech function as you caught sight of a familiar figure. 

In the many places of Seoul, he just had to be in the same park as you. Wearing a blue tracksuit with the slogan of a wolf on the front and running sneakers adorning his feet, told you he was out on a late night run. It was quite unfair how even with his hair sticking to his nape and sweat trickling down the sides of his face, Mingi still looked great.

You and Mingi had never been friends — that much you knew — but for him to just run past you without as much as a nod of acknowledgement had you questioning if something was wrong. His exhausted eyes morphed into a nasty glare as they landed on you, which served as a nail in the coffin to your theories.

“Was that Song Mingi?” Hyunjin asked from beside you.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“What’s wrong, bean?”

Laying upside down on your bed with feet tucked beneath your pillow and your head a few inches from the edge apparently wasn’t a normal thing to do if Dasom assumed something was going on.

“Nothing, everything is perfectly fine.” 

Everything was perfectly fine if you ignored the fact that Mingi was angry with you and was intentionally avoiding you like the plague.

“Mmmm.” 

Dasom fell back and mimicked your position, arms thrown out and eyes locked on the ceiling. Some days were like that, spent doing absolutely nothing. Wrapped in big fuzzy blankets laying in either her or your bed, getting lost in space or scrolling endlessly through tiktok until the clock struck the early hours of the morning.

“You still going to that game?”

You huffed, “Yeah. I promised Hyunjin I’d go and he wants to introduce me to some of his friends in return. Is Hongjoong still coming over?”

“He hasn’t rain checked on me yet, so I think so.” She drummed her fingers against her shorts-clad thighs. “Isn’t the game at eight?”

“Yup.”

“Cool. Cool.”

You slid down to the floor, brows furrowed and lips titled. “What time is it?”

“Now?”

“Yes, Dasom. Now.”

“Hmmm, it’s currently seven-thirty.”

“It’s seven-thirty!?”

The blood rushed up to your head at your abrupt movement and the whole room spun as black spots clouded your vision. Left with no choice you laid back down and clutched your skull as you tried taking control of your own body again, all while assessing the situation. The game started at eight and you had approximately thirty minutes to get changed and figure out a way to get there before then. The messages Hyunjin sent you earlier today flashed in your mind and you were starting to regret turning down his offer to pick you up, at least then you wouldn’t risk being late and embarrassing yourself in front of his friends.

“Okay, I’m jumping in the shower real quick while you put together an outfit for me that doesn’t scream ‘I spent five minutes on this’ as I walk through the doors.”

Jumping to her feet with an imaginary tail wagging left and right, she saluted. A determined yet excited look on her face. Besides writing poetry in the dim light of your fridge at three AM, Dasom had a big passion for fashion and would always play dress up with you during your childhood days. 

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”

A trail of water followed from the bathroom to the bedroom and stopped below your feet. You stood with a towel wrapped around your bare body as you watched Dasom finalizing your outfit. The clothes on your bed were a baggy gray sweatshirt with bold letters spelling out ‘TORONTO’ — borrowed from Keeho and never returned — and a pair of blue jeans. It didn’t give too much, but was still appropriate for where you were going.

“Okay, go put it on. Have you figured out a way to get there?”

Shimmying on the clothes you heaved out a breath. “Nope.”

“Want me to call Kyo?”

“It’s a Friday so I’m sure he’s pre-gaming with Jiung and the others.”

“That’s true… I mean I could always give you a ride on my bike?”

You laughed at that. The bike in question was bright purple, almost lilac-ish with shimmering tinsel handels and star shaped wheel clips. It was cute, but embarrassing at the same time. Plus it would be a shit-show, you sitting on the carrier holding on for dear life while Dasom would do her best not to run people over. She was not the most trusted driver, hence the lack of a driver’s license (that she’s tried for five times and failed every single one).

“As much as I love you, I’d rather be late than arrive on that oddity and risk a broken arm or leg.”

“Hmpf, well if you don’t appreciate Melody then you can walk there!” She crossed her arms and pouted, her lower lip jutting in a show of feigned hurt.

“I don’t really mean it, Dae-Dae, I love youuuuu! I’ll come back with something nice to make up for it.”

The sour golden retriever-looking girl immediately brightened at the mention of a treat and wrapped her arms around you, her chin digging above your sternum. 

“Can you buy those shrimp chips that I like?” 

“Deal! I seriously gotta go now, I’ll text you when I get there. Kisses and hugs and all that bullshit!”

For once you were grateful not having a car as the parking lot was packed with them and other vehicles. It must have been a big deal if some people just blatantly abandoned their cars on the sidewalk, yellow tickets flapping on their windshields. The match was in full swing and it was everything you could expect of a hockey game. Red and blue blurs of jerseys zoomed past you, the sound of blades against ice, the livid roar of the crowd, cutting blows of a whistle, sticks cracking against the puck sounding like thunder and the thump as an opponent was checked against the boards. Seeing the bleachers full of people wasn’t something you expected when you crossed the entrance. The sides were divided into two parts — red and blue — and while you weren’t about to backstab your own university by sitting with the ‘enemy’ you found no empty seats between the Blue Wolf supporters. The other side wasn’t anything better except for the few vacant seats here and there, and more nude chests and faces covered in paint. 

This was everything but your scenery. 

Staring through the plexiglas you tried spotting the familiar mop of black and white hair you hadn’t seen since God knows when. You gave up as you quickly realized the gear covered almost the entirety of their faces and body proportions, making everyone look identical to one another, the only thing differentiating them being the numbers and colors of their jerseys that did little to help as you didn’t even know his. A pair of hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders and you jumped at the unexpected touch, hastily turning to see who the culprit was and coming face to face with a grinning Hyunjin.

“Boo!”

“Don’t do that!”

His beautiful laugh reached your ears and emitted a chuckle of your own. He coaxed you into his body and enfolded you in a warm embrace that you reciprocated, chin on his shoulder and arms going around his waist. It was first when the hug broke that you could finally take in his full appearance. His whole attire — suit pants, a tucked in turtleneck and leather boots — were completely black except for the long and expensive-looking jean coat and red beanie showing support for the opposing team.

“Let’s go, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.”

Without missing a beat he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers as he gently maneuvered you through the crowd. Every few seconds you flinched as the people jumped up from their seats, cheering or groaning at what was happening down below.

From across the rink in the bench area adjacent to the ice, the red and blue players filled the booths closest to their goalkeepers. The game was in full swing with both teams scoring a point each and neither willing to let up on their explosive paces. The substitute players were all buzzing from excitement or nerves — probably a combination of both — as they shouted encouraging words to the starting lineup. Like the remaining defencemen of the blue team, Mingi sat in the middle with his hockey stick high up in the air and shoulders squishing against his fellow position players, but his eyes weren’t trained on the puck flying from one player to another. No, they were set on the pair of figure skaters on the other side of the rink. More precisely, he was focused on their interlocked hands and the subtle exchange of smiles.

A red light and the loud blaring of the goal horn went off in the arena as the opposing team managed to hurl the puck behind the blue goalkeeper and Mingi could argue it was how he felt on the inside seeing you together. The big crowd jumped from their seats, waving their red merch and screaming words Mingi couldn’t hear over the angry voice of his coach.

“Matthew, what the hell are you doing?!”

“Wow… This is really annoying. We’re only ten minutes into the first period and we’ve already received two points,” Jungkook fumed.

It was weird that neither Mingi or Jungkook were a part of the starting lineup, considering they were up against one of the better teams of the season. Trusting that their coach was making the right decision of keeping them off the ice, Mingi didn’t try persuading him to be put in. There were still two and a half periods left of the game, leaving plenty of time for Mingi to change the course of the match if needed to. It also gave him more time to keep an eye on you and simmer in his own rage, if he just hadn’t lost you in the three seconds he looked away. Frantically searching the bleachers for a girl with a blue scarf wrapped around her neck, you were nowhere to be seen.

“Song!”

The abrupt call of his name snapped him out of his search and he was met with the beetroot red face of his coach. 

“Are you deaf?!”

“Nu-uh. No, sir!”

“Then get off your ass, you’re going in.” As Mingi stood up, his coach threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in closer. “Remember what we talked about. There are scouts watching and they’ve heard great things about this Song Mingi, so show them you’re not all talk, yeah?”

Mingi pushed in his mouth guard and nodded determinedly.

Coach patted him encouragingly and gave one last pat on his helmet for luck.

“Good, get in there and put a stop to their number three.”  

Everything turned to background noise as Mingi leaped over the board and his blades slashed against the cool surface. There was only him and his defending zone, and the fact that you were somewhere in the crowd, probably watching him or getting cozy with that stupid figure skater. The grip around his hockey stick tightened at the image and he hated the effect you still had on him. He should’ve been worrying about being on top of his game and impressing the scouts, and not what you were up to.

Mingi and Matthew held the blue line and passed the puck between each other as the remaining blue players skated around in the offensive zone, searching for an opening to get the puck handed to them. As Mingi slid the puck to Matthew, the bigger defender quickly hurled it to the next player only for the pass to be cut off. 

Going backwards, Mingi immediately retreated home while putting pressure on the puck carrier and simultaneously keeping him from having a clear view of the net. He skillfully managed to push the opposing player (without physical contact) to the side in the defensive zone. He quickly realized that he was closed off and sent the puck diagonally backwards to another red player who moved with such speed, Mingi knew he wouldn't be able to stop the additional player in time. Protests erupted from the bench as all fourteen substitute players had a hunch of what was going to happen.

To his aid came Matthew and the two defensemen managed to shut down a possible counterattack. As the remaining players entered the defending zone, the puck was still in the possession of the red team. It landed in the hold of their number three, who was a few diagonal meters from Mingi. The winger locked gazes with the blue defender and sent him a smug smirk, tauntingly saying ‘watch this’ as he winded his hockey stick up to his shoulder and readied himself for a slapshot.

Losing all control of his body, Mingi changed the trajectory of his movements and skated almost backwards while getting in number three’s sight of line. Mingi waited for the perfect timing and when the red player rushed forward to skate past him, Mingi jutted out his hip, flipping the opponent over him and stealing the puck in the process. Cheers erupted in the arena and Mingi soared at the jumbled praises and roars of encouragement.

“This is Felix and that’s Changbin, they attend TOP University. Lix-ie, Bin-ie, this is the friend I’ve been telling you about,” Hyunjin introduced you as the crowd calmed down.

The two guys weren’t dressed in anything over the top, basic hoodies and joggers or a pair of jeans with small accessories showing their support for the Red Tigers which made you feel out of place with Keeho’s blue scarf wrapped around your neck. You recognized one of them as the guy who hosted that halloween party; buffy build, a triangle shaped head, but kind features.  

“Hey.” 

The deep voice that greeted you didn’t match the sunshine-face of the other boy beside Changbin. A sprinkle of freckles covered his nose and cheeks, his eyes crinkling as he offered you a sun-like smile that matched the color of his hair.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” you gently said and sat in the spot beside the sunshine-boy.

“It’s great to finally see the girl this one’s been obsessing about,” Changbin butted in with a teasing grin and earned himself a slap on the thigh by Felix.

“Just ignore him, he loves to tease.”

“Ah, that’s okay. I know banter when I hear it,” you smiled reassuringly and looked at the game below. 

One would think that because ice was your dome, you’d easily understand other winter sports, but you were truly having trouble keeping up with whatever was going on in the newly polished rink. The puck was traveling a hundred miles an hour and the skaters were freakishly fast, you could barely keep up with who was attacking and who was defending. It seemed like the moment one team scored, the other was immediately taking back a point. On top of all, you had zero knowledge about the rules. To say you were surprised when a — what looked to be dangerous and illegal — tackle occurred, would be an understatement. You expected at least someone to jump out of sheer anger, but no one batted an eye. They just kept watching and the players resumed as if it were the most normal thing of the day.

“Do you want to die?” Chan growled as he bumped shoulders with Mingi, getting all up in the defenseman’s face.

The chants of the Blue Wolves’ fans sent another surge of adrenaline through Mingi’s veins, not that he needed it, but gave him an ego boost to return the cockiness to the max.

“I should be asking you that. Don’t think you can get past us just like that. I’ll shut you down, Chan-hyung.”

In any other circumstance and in a conversation with quite literally anyone else, the use of honorific wouldn’t have been out of place, but hearing it come from Mingi wasn’t an indication of respect. It was a ploy to humiliate him and a way to set the tone of the game. In other words, telling him not to expect an easy win. Chan didn’t think anything less.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Mingi scoffed, a smirk of triumph playing across his lips. “I already did and guess what, hyung. I’ll do it again and again, and again. You will not get past me. I’ll knock you down until your ass makes a dent on the ice.”

Returning the ever-so-kind favor of butting shoulders, Mingi pushed past him and stopped right behind his center, ready to receive the puck or defend if the odds played out in the red team’s favor.

“I’m sorry about what happened at the preliminaries,” Felix smiled empathically and placed a hand on your shoulder for support. “If it makes you feel better, I thought you were perfect and deserved to win.” 

You forced a smile at the reminder of the event. The wound was still fresh and even though Felix didn’t have any ill intentions with bringing it up, it still didn’t spare you from the bitter taste of winning — if it could even be considered a victory — second place.

“Thank you, but the jury is rarely ever wrong.”

“Tell me about it,” he started and focused momentarily on the game again. “It still doesn’t change my opinion on who should’ve won though.”

Before you could thank him again and express your gratitude to his kindness, Hyunjin joined the conversation. “Oh, I see you’ve found yourself a new figure skating partner.” 

Glancing from Felix to Hyunjin and back to Felix again, you pointed at the freckled boy. “You’re a figure skater too?”

“Yup, I've been training with Jin-ie since elementary school. A tick would be easier to shake off than him.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, everyone practically begged you to sit beside them but no, little Lixie the new student decided it would be best to annoy Hyunjin-ie in the back.” 

With a witty remark waiting on the tip of his tongue, Felix parted his lips, but was interrupted by Changbin abruptly standing up, hands clasped around his mouth and shouting, “Come on Chan! Don’t let him get away with that!”

Glancing down at the rink, you noticed number three in the red team was pushed against the border with a blue guy towering over him. Both guys seemed to be communicating through their eyes and if it weren’t for their teammates getting in between, you were sure a full on fist fight would’ve taken place in front of everyone.

“You’d think Chan was his boyfriend and not mine,” Felix said to you — more so screamed over the loud cheers and hollers of distress — and watched an agitated Changbin slump back down in his seat, eyes following the flying puck kissing the net of the red goalkeeper.

“Boyfriend?” 

“Ah, right, of course Hyunjin wouldn’t talk about his friends. Anyways I’m dating number three in the red team, maybe you’ve heard of him. Bang Chan or Christopher, whatever seems fitting.”

Your mouth turned into an ‘o’ as the puzzle pieces clasped together. Felix never stopped smiling and even chuckled at your reaction. He found you endearing and understood why Hyunjin wouldn’t stop talking about you during their study sessions. 

“I take it, you know him?”

“Mmmm, I wouldn’t say I know him but we had a brief encounter at a halloween party.”

“Ah, that’s cool. The world is really small, isn’t it?”

The buzzer beat you to an answer, indicating that the twenty minutes of the second period were out. 

“Oh, and that’s halftime,” Felix said and stood up to stretch. 

Changbin shot him a deadly stare, as if the figure skater cursed out his entire family. “You know it’s not called that. It’s an intermission!”

“Eh, we don’t keep up with all that in Australia. Halftime is halftime in whatever sport you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were Australian,” you admitted.

“What, really?” He said in English and then switched back to Korean. “All the people I meet point out I speak with an accent so I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, now that you’ve said it I can actually hear like the faintest accent. Oh, that’s embarrassing of me.” You sheepishly smiled and scratched the back of your head.

“Nah, not really. Anyway, Bin-ie and I are gonna get some snacks, you guys want anything?”

“I’m alright, thank you though.”

Felix threw you a thumbs up and looked at Hyunjin for his reply.

“Yeah, surprise me with something good.”

“Gotcha! We’ll be back like a lil’ before they start if we don’t get held up by the bathrooms. Changbin sure does love to take his time there.”

As the duo followed the crowd out, you and Hyunjin fell into a comfortable silence and listened to the chatter of the people around you. For being your first time at a hockey game, you weren’t bored at all, despite being oblivious to the set of rules. Keeho did say something about fights being legal and you sincerely hoped to avoid that. The sport on ice you were aware of was so less violent, flashy and fast paced. It was so different from your figure skating which was more or less art or a story being conveyed by body language. 

Nonetheless, you were still having a good time, even though much of it was spent getting acquainted with Hyunjin’s friends.

“So… what do you think of the game so far?”

Snapping from the ice taken over by a bunch of kids chasing each other and falling on their rears, you hummed and looked back at Hyunjin who already had his eyes on you.

“It’s interesting. I mean, it’s nothing like figure skating, obviously, but it’s cool… Do you guys always do this? Watch hockey?”

“Mmm, not always, but whenever Chan has a game we try to show our support just like he does whenever Lix or I have anything going on with our figure skating.”

“That’s sweet of you. That’s actually really cute,” you gushed and the thought reminded you of your own friend group. How Keeho and Dasom showed up at your competitions or the many times you and Keeho attended Dasom’s poetry slam.

Hyunjin leaned closer to you, a playful smile across his features. “I don’t like being called cute, but considering it’s coming from you I’ll let it slide.”

Taken back by the almost flirtatious side of Hyunjin, you bashfully looked away and cheekily covered your mouth, hiding the way your smile expanded at his comment. Hyunjin, attentive as always, took notice of the action and chuckled.

“How, uhm…” 

You leaned back in your seat and braided your fingers together as the change of topic went from cheerful to sullen.

“I didn’t want to ask in front of those two, but yeah… How you holding up?”

Still trying to hold up your happy expression, you faced him and tilted your head, and Hyunjin had to physically hold back from planting a kiss on your cute nose. 

“I’ve been alright. There’s not much I can do to be honest and I don’t want to dwell on it more than necessary, you know?”

“That’s understandable. Why think about the things that make you feel bad?”

“Exactly. I’ve decided to focus on the more happier things in life.” You grimaced as a hockey player tripped and smacked head first into the plastic glass. “Even if that is watching people get concussions for just 13.000 won.”

Hyunjin burst out laughing, elegantly covering his mouth with the back of his hand and tipping his head backwards. A laugh of your own lingered with his and the multiple cheers in the air. 

“Three for three, Jeon Jungkook does it again! The nimble winger of the Blue Wolves can’t be stopped!” 

The announcement sounded through the arena a few seconds after the red lights flashed behind the Tiger’s goal and buzzer erupted, nearly rupturing your eardrums. Jungkook was really on a blast tonight, you thought as you followed his retreating figure, making a mental note of remembering his jersey number. Although you had yet to find Mingi, you felt proud for at least figuring out Jungkook and Chan, completely dismissing the fact that you barely knew a handful of players on the ice.

“You’re doing great out there, Kookie.” Mingi dunked him on the back as they retreated to the neutral zone. “Make that into five out of five and I’ll treat you to some lamb skewers.”

The smirk stretched across Jungkook’s face could only be described as menacingly and with  him in his element, Mingi knew they weren’t going to go down without a fight. 

“Add steamed dumplings into the mix and I’ll double it.”

As the referee held the puck in the air between the red and blue centers, the rest of the players prepared themselves for another brawl over who put the puck behind the opposing net. Mingi was warm all over, and the extra weight of pads and equipment was taking a toll on his body, as well as defending his home base, but each time a player was stopped, the pride was enough to resurrect his energy. Glancing slightly to the side, everything moved in slow motion as he briefly made eye contact with the supporters of both teams. Some were screaming at him out of happiness and others with harmless distaste, angry at his ability to shut down the reds’ plays and advances. Moving further up the rows, it was like a headlight lit up a spot in the crowd, and suddenly, amongst the hundreds of people, he could make you out like a tulip in the middle of a meadow.

The hold around his stick tightened seeing you squished between pretty boy and an unrecognizable face, and Mingi promised he didn’t care. He didn’t care as pretty boy whispered something in your ear and he definitely didn’t care as you flung your head backward, and let out what probably was the most angelic laughter known to heaven. Smoke erupted from his nostrils and the moment the puck was in possession of the red team, the vibrant colored jerseys irked him like a matador irritatnig a bull. As the puck was in play, all sound ceased to exist and Mingi zeroed in on the players advancing forward. 

Mingi would describe it as being underwater with all the noise distant and his movement sluggish no matter how hard he tried to lift his limbs, and if  he wasn’t so aware of his surroundings, Mingi would certainly think he was losing one of his five senses. 

See, although ice hockey was a sport all about seeing and physical contact, hearing was an important part too and if Mingi wasn’t revolted by your presence, he wouldn’t have missed the referee signaling an offside, and he wouldn’t have skated into the first player daring to cross the blue line that separated the defending and neutral zone.

The referee immediately blew his whistle and fully extended his right arm, fist clenched and eyes set on the defenseman, and time turned back to normal as a pop-like sound burst in Mingi’s ears. He barely managed to realize what happened when another body collided against his, pushing him straight into the boards. Chaos ensued as multiple players got involved trying to ease the situation, but the damage was already done and Mingi was sent to the penalty box — purposely avoiding the heavy gazes of the blue bench — along with whichever guy flew into him.

He cursed out loud as he slumped down on the bench. This was embarrassing on so many levels. It was one thing to ram into someone as payback, but lashing out for no apparent reason and after the whistle was (almost) unacceptable. He wanted to laugh at his stupidity; so much for not caring. 

“What happened?” You asked no one in particular, surprised at the sudden turn of events.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Ah, that Song Mingi, always up to no good,” Changbin grumbled, more so to himself than you. 

You snapped your eyes to the plastic enclosure the blue player was sent off to and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip. Through the year you had known Mingi, you’d never guess he could really use his size and strength to quite literally floor another person. Hockey was a rough sport, that wasn’t news to you, and considering Mingi could use his strength to his advantage, it was probably why he was so sought after. You couldn’t shake away this feeling of awareness. Just now realizing how… big Mingi actually was and you didn't know whether it was relief or pride, knowing that of all the times you pushed him over the edge, never once did he raise a finger at you out of anger or spite. 

Mingi may have been an asshole with 70% height and muscle, but he wasn’t a bad guy. 

“That’s called roughing,” Felix started explaining. “It’s like… I wouldn’t say it’s an illegal move, but if done out of motive or in a way to really hurt the other player, it could lead to a minor penalty — a timeout — or game misconduct. But it all depends on how bad the situation is.”

“So he won’t play until the end of the game?”

“Nah, he’ll probably be out in like a few minutes,” Hyunjin answered for you and clapped as the red team scored, evening out the score board to five-five.

“Then the blue team will be a player short up until then?.”

“Pretty much,” Felix confirmed and popped a chip in his mouth.

You didn’t see how that could be fair, but then again, ice hockey wasn’t your forthe and as no one in the crowd was making a fuss over Mingi’s penalty — except for pointing out his poor judgment — you didn’t say much else, but hum in agreement. For twelve minutes, you didn’t pay attention to what was happening on the ice, only applauding when the crowd did and slumped back in your seat as the supporters groaned in disappointment. Your full attention was set on the lone player in the plastic box. 

Worry, confusion and pity circled your mind and you wondered if this was how everyone felt seeing the placement of your figure skating competition. As soon as the thought made home in your head, you shooed it away, reminding yourself to focus on the happy things and not everything that was blue. 

Forcing your eyes from Mingi, the most blue thing in the arena (both clothing and emotion wise) you zoned out and the players blurred into small vivid spots twirling on the ice like flies above a bowl of fruit. You didn’t understand where the worry came from or why it decided to take shelter in your stomach. It probably wasn’t Mingi’s first rodeo in the penalty box and wouldn’t be the last on either, and you recognized his sudden outburst as the one you saw a glimpse of at the party, right before you left him with that blonde police officer. 

Mingi never lashed out in anger and if he did, you were never on the receiving end of it despite giving him back a tenfold of insults he greeted you with. Seeing him quite literally floor a guy his size, made your guts twist in discomfort. It was an emotion that didn’t look good on him at all. 

The game was growing more intense with each minute passing and the atmosphere amongst the audience was also getting rowdier as the teams were practically neck and neck, neither willing to let up. The second Mingi stepped foot on the ice again, the whole arena blew up with cheers. It was like the almost extinguished torch of hope re-awakened into a bright and lively fire, and you too held onto the light of hope that the Blue Wolves would take it home, definitely because of your loyalty to Tiny University and not the growing affection for a certain defender in said school. 

The puck was flying from one side of the rink to the other in just a matter of seconds with all players, excluding the goalkeepers, circling around and cashing the rubber like stone. 

“Here, wanna help me hold this up?”

You didn’t know how you missed the big sign leaning against Felix’s legs, but you did. With a nod of agreement, you both took hold of each side of the white cardboard cutout and quickly looked at the glittery blue writing on it. 

I am Chan’s #1 fan. 

“Don’t judge, I made it like last second.” A blush kissed his cheeks and his eyes squeezed into crescent moons as you read the corny line.

“No, no! I think it’s cute.”

With ten seconds left of the game everyone in the arena stood up which made you and Felix raise the sign even higher. When everyone thought the game would end in a tie, a player from the defending line of the blue team somehow managed to steal the puck from two red players and sent it hurling across the rink, right in the sanctuary of his teammate’s stick who calculatedly launched it towards the red goal and past its keeper. The buzzer went off and chaos ensued. From what you could see all the Blue Wolves players crowded the scorer and dunked the defender who sent the winning assist, while the fans raised the volume through the roof. Whistling, cheers, laughter, even some old fashion booing circulated the arena.

Not all that upset with the outcome of the game, Felix applauded and turned to his friend who seemed to be quite butthurt. “Song really is crazy good, isn’t he Bin-ie?”

“Whatever, he’s lucky Jake sprained his ankle and couldn’t play today or he’d have them all eating ice. Ha! Get it, cause they’re playing on i–”

The rest of the conversation was tuned out as you focused on the celebrating team, trying to catch sight of eighty-nine. Your eyes traveled from one bulky player to another and then, as if your prayers were answered, the player came right into view. 

Mingi walked beside a shorter guy clad in blue and you assumed it was Chan by the sole way he pointed up at you and the other guys. Your suspicion was confirmed as the helmet was removed and Chan’s face was illuminated by the strong lights. You could just make out the faint movement of his mouth, saying something to the giant beside him. 

“Good to know your girl is cheering for the right team, Mings.”

Mingi followed the invisible line leading to where you stood and scanned the group of friends. He immediately recognized Hyunjin and the buff one, and he didn’t even manage to take a proper look at the third boy as his eyes found yours. Beautiful as ever, he thought and admired as much of you as possible. Your face, clothes, make-up and everything about you was perfect, and the passive aggressive comment was almost brushed to the side until he zeroed in on the paper in your hands. It was in that moment that the rose-tinted glasses slipped down his nose, jealousy quick to seep into every corner of his existence and he remembered why he’d been avoiding you for weeks.

Before he could send you a sharp (and unjustified) glare, he redirected his anger to the guy beside him. 

“Oh, don’t be like that. She was the one to look at me first.

Mingi wasn’t a violent person, he really wasn’t, but there was no acceptable excuse for why he did what he did. 

As if born ready for this day, Mingi used his teeth to tear off his gloves and pounced on Chan. One hand grabbed around the collar of his red jersey as the other was colliding with his cheek. He managed to get in two more punches — the first successfully collided with Chan’s jaw and the second just barely missed the bone of his nose — before Chan used his own limbs to defend himself. The red winger grabbed hold of Mingi’s helmet and snatched it off his head, and seized the chance to send a fist flying in his face, returning the punches he received from the blue defender. Red bruises quickly littered across their knuckles and warm blood covered their skin, the thick liquid pouring from both Chan’s nose and Mingi’s lip.

The crowd was going wild, the whistles of the referees were being ignored and it didn’t take long before the remaining players of each team were trying to separate the two brutes. 

“Oh my God!” 

Felix and Changbin flinched at your gasp. 

“He’s fucking crazy. Hey! What the hell?!” Changbin jumped between the seats and rocketed down towards the ice with the rest of you hot on his heels.

The silence was deafening. Everyone was curious as to what was going on and why a fight ensued now that the game was over, usually the nose breaking happened on ice and not off. Whispers and rumors spread like a wildfire, some claimed it was the aftermath of adrenaline while others thought of something more extreme like hard drugs taking over. Nonetheless, the crowd riled them on, clearly finding joy in the brawl. You weren’t anywhere near when the referees and teammates broke them up, Mingi being forcefully sent towards the locker room as Chan stayed laying on the ground, crimson face and teeth no longer pearly white.

“What the hell, Mingi,” you muttered under your breath and slipped through the mass of people, running to where you assumed he’d be. 

Your head was working a hundred miles an hour with the images of Mingi hunched over Chan, fists violently beating the blonde and a lot of blood covering his face. You were sure you’d never get them out of your head and you shuddered at the amount of red that ran down Chan’s nose. For the sake of the giant asshole you grew attached to, you hoped it wouldn’t put a stop to his career, both school- and sportwise. It would by far be his dumbest decision yet. For what even?

A group of reporters stood outside a door you assumed was reserved for the Blue Wolves and if that wasn’t enough of a give away then it was the loud cheers and victory singing echoing out to the hallway. In reality you wanted nothing more than to barge inside and interrupt their celebration — how they could celebrate after that bloodbath was still something you couldn’t wrap your head around — but you did no such thing. The moment the door opened you pushed the reporters aside and flew in with your head first, paying no mind to the perverse wolf whistles and cheers of the adrenaline drunken boys. You didn’t even bother with them as your eyes scanned the room that smelled of sweat and axe deodorant for him. Jungkook, seemingly the most normal one there (which spoke volumes), quickly understood why you were there and approached you with no teasing glint or malice in his gaze.

“Try looking by the abandoned gym on the ground floor. There’s a vending machine there we usually go to so I assume if he’s taken off somewhere it should be there.” 

You wasted no time in turning on your heel and practically sprinting down the route you repeated like a mantra. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine.

Lo and behold, he was right there and if it weren’t for the worry growing in your belly you’d go back upstairs and reward the playboy with a big smooch to his rosy lips. 

Mingi sat down on the floor, legs up to his chest and forearms folded on his knees. His sweaty forehead was leaning against the skin of his arm and an anxious rhythm of his heart beat in his chest. It was hard to miss the red on his knuckles. Inhaling a shaky breath as if it would steady your own heart, your feet stopped before him falling right in his line of sight. Surprised at the unexpected company, Mingi looked up and got a first row ticket of the concern swimming in your eyes. You didn’t know what to expect going after him, but the annoyed — almost disgusted — scoff he let out cut through you like a knife and twisted as he looked back down. Despite the act of annoyance aimed at you, Mingi wasn’t actually that annoyed with you but rather with himself because after everything he still had the urge to reach for your touch and he hated it. His jaw clenched at the circumstance and his nails dug in the palms of his hands. You weren’t even supposed to be here, it made everything ten times harder than it should’ve been.

Having had enough of his pity party Mingi and the weight of your gaze judging him, he pushed up from his position and walked right past you. No hello, no second glances, just walking as if you were a ghost he couldn’t see let alone feel. His movements halted when you latched onto one of his wrists, knowing that if he truly wanted to get away he’d shake you off like a ragdoll and be on his merry way. Although he was with his back facing you, the fact that he stood  rooted to the ground was the approval you seeked to continue with your winged attempt at getting him to speak.

“Mingi, what the hell was that?” 

The two of you weren’t heavy on the use of honorifics, but hearing you spit his name out like that surely sent a shiver down his spine. You weren’t pissed off, he noticed, you were actually worried and it was quite amusing. The nerve you had of showing up after that fiasco to interrogate him about his actions. Who the hell did you think you were?

“Huh? Why did you do that?” Shaking his arm, you tried again. “Can you please say something? I’m worried for you and your silence isn’t helping, please just say something.”

Mingi didn’t budge and you were starting to lose it. The avoidance wasn't enough, now he was blatantly ignoring your attempt at helping too.

“What is your problem?! I’m trying to help you, something’s obviously happened so why won’t you tell me!”

Ripping his wrist out of your hold, he turned around and it took every particle in you not to cower at his sharp eyes staring you down. 

“You want to know what my problem is?” His loud voice bounced off the walls and punched you right in the gut. 

There was so much anger in his gaze, his tone and his body. Everything screamed of anger and you didn’t even know why you were on the receiving end of his emotions. You were just trying to help.

“You! You are my fucking problem!”

“What?”

“As if you don’t know what you’re doing. Acting all nice and cutesy like we are friends, like you’re interested in ever befriending me which now that I think about is so stupid because you and I? What a joke. We’re a fucking joke!”

“What are you even talking about?!”

Mingi scoffed again. He looked to the side, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. There were so many thoughts going through his head and all he could think about was what words to use to hurt you the most. To make you feel the hurt he did.

“First, you invite me to your stupid competition and then you come to my game sitting with him! Was this all a game, huh? To get back at me for all the dumb shit I did to you because if it is then wow, you’ve really proven yourself to be more shallow and boneless than I ever thought. I mean, you’re really going out of your way to get under my skin and act like a fucking–”

Mingi closed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut, the veins on his neck were more prominent than ever and his face was almost identical to the red color of Dasom’s hair. He really needed to calm down before he said something he’d regret. Not that it mattered, the damage was already done and he knew the aftermath was already biting him in the ass. Shit, the look of your glossy eyes was quick to make his inside burn with remorse.

Each insult was a poisoned arrow aimed at your heart. The words physically hurt you more than ever before and you weren’t aware just how mean Mingi could be. Your previous bickering never stooped on a level this low before and it brought tears to your eyes but even that wasn't enough to stop his rant. Not wanting to be caught vulnerable in front of the guy who was practically stepping on you with his shoes, you quickly wiped away the tears that managed to escape.

Mingi knew he was taking his frustration out on you and he knew it wasn’t fair because you hadn’t done anything wrong. It all kept piling on his shoulders. All the instances he saw you two together; the joint practices, your embarrassed giggles any time Hyunjin breathed, watching him console you in the hallways like a poor reenactment of a romcom, sitting so close together at his game, shoulders touching a little too close for Mingi’s liking… If that stupid piece of cardboard was a bomb waiting to be activated, then Chan was the flame that set everything off. 

“Oh, great. This is really great now you’re fucking crying too. You think some tears are going to make me feel bad? They won’t, I don’t care anymore okay? I’m done with you and your fucking shit. So go back to your prince fucking charming and don’t even bother looking for me, you hear? I’m fucking done!” 

You shrunk back at his unwavering and stern voice. Having nothing more to say Mingi stormed away, blood boiling and hands shaking as the final words set in. The last you saw of him before gut-wrenching sobs wrecked your body was the door slamming up against the wall and back the doorframe so hard the walls vibrated. And later that same night when Mingi got home, he wouldn’t even be surprised if you decided to never look at him again, let alone speak with him. 

Different emotions tore you apart and it was hard to make sense of anything that happened in the past ten minutes. The questions — what, why, how — were endless and you wanted to go home, preferably dig a hole in your bed and not come out until better days, whenever that would be you didn’t know. Tears burned your cheeks like lava and snot tickled your nose, dropping off your chin and onto your shirt. With the already wet sleeve of your sweater you wiped everything off your face, not in the right mind to care about what Keeho would say about his precious shirt. Like a baby cub seeking its momma bear for comfort, you retreated home yearning for the closest touch of a mother you could find.

“You have reached the voicemail of Choi Dasom. Please leave a message after the beep.”

After the fifth attempted call, you gave up and continued trudging home. Dark clouds hovered over Seoul and the light pelts of rain quickly became a downpour. Being picked up on Dasom’s bike didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Unlocking the front door of your shared apartment you were greeted with Hongjoong and Dasom sitting awfully close on the couch. They jumped apart as you harshly dropped the keys in the fruit bowl and froze at the sight of you; bawling, wet and shivering. Skipping the formalities you wasted no time diving in the shower and by the time you ventured back out, Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen as if the boy was never there to begin with and you couldn’t have been more relieved. You’ve had enough boys for the next ten years of your life.

“Beans?” 

It was probably the dumbest thing to cry about, but your lips still quivered and the tears you just managed to stop surfaced at the nickname. The girl caught you in her arms and you buried your head in her shoulder as your cries got louder. Dasom offered you solace with gentle rubs to your back and patiently waited until your labored breathing became even. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” she whispered and slowly guided you to your bedroom. 

Attentive as always she helped you get under the covers and shuffled in beside you to which you immediately buried your face in her bosom, her hand slank under your neck and connected with the other at the back of your head. You lay there in each other’s presence and listened to the coexisting beat of your hearts. Dasom didn’t try coaxing the troubles out of you and you heaved out a big breath. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at the constant tears and after waking up from passing out of exhaustion, you knew you’d be a victim of an unbearable headache and heavy feet. The whisper of your name was loud in the silent room and you hummed in reply, letting the other girl know you were in fact awake.

“You wanna talk about it?”

The most obvious thing would be to talk about it; talk about why you burst through the door, face wet and not entirely because of the rain. Your mom always told you to never sleep with an empty stomach, a busy mind or a heavy heart and while you didn’t appreciate the advice at the minute, future-you would (hopefully) think back to this moment and thank you for your courage. Dasom followed in tow as you sat up criss-crossed, taking your hands in hers and giving them comforting squeezes every once in a while. By the time she was pulled through the story of your evening — meeting Changbin and Felix, having a good time with Hyunjin, to seeing Mingi beat the living shit out of Chan and then him lashing out on you — the clock struck somewhere between two and three in the morning, courtesy of a few short crying breaks in between. Glancing up at your friend who was still digesting the events, you felt lighter at the thought of having your very own sun sharing warmth and hope wherever she went.

“He likes you,” she eventually said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You sniffled and wiped at your nose again, hands falling to play with the bedsheet. 

“He doesn’t.”

“How do you know who I’m talking about?”

You thought you ran out of tears hours ago but were proven wrong as a new batch stung your eyes and eventually trickled down your sore cheeks. Dasom pulled you in another soul crushing hug and held the back of your head, nails gently massaging your scalp.

“Why are you crying, bean?”

Through tears and her thick cardigan you replied. “Because we aren’t talking about Hyunjin, are we? He’s the one we should be talking about.”

“But we aren’t and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

It felt wrong crying over someone who held no significance in your life just a few months ago. The same guy who riled you up like it was his daily dose of sunshine and who set it as his life mission to have you curse him out. The guy who called you stupidly cute nicknames and walked you home at night, offering up his jacket to keep you warm and safe from colds. The guy who didn't turn up to your competition and then lived in your head like an annoying song playing on repeat refusing to disappear. The same guy who shook you to your core with his angry words and fiery gaze.

“Why am I like this?”

“Like what?” 

Dasom wasn’t foolish. She knew what you were going through and could only hope you’d come to terms with the unknown feelings rather than to be the one revealing the reason behind your heartbreak. 

“Drawn to a guy who’s mean and an asshole when I have the perfect one right there, waiting and catering to my every need.”

“I know I’m supposed to hate him for the things he’s said to you and I do, I really do bean…. so if you think I won’t at least glare him down in the hallways then I’m revoking your position as my best friend… But I’m going to be completely honest with you, bean because that’s what you deserve. I think something else must have triggered him to lash out, it couldn’t just have been because you were simply sitting beside Hyunjin.”

She gently played with your hair as the words sank in.

“He really hurt me.”

“I know, bubs and I’m so sorry. Know that nothing excuses that behavior.”

“Then why do I still think of him even when he’s shit. Why won’t my brain let me be happy with Hyunjin?” You broke from the huge and fell back on the bed, hands gripping the sheets as if they held all the answers to your questions. 

“Hyunjin is safe. We all like the safe and predictable, right?” 

Your nod of agreement spurred her on. 

“But Mingi, oh Mingi, is exciting. He drives you crazy, keeps you on your toes and throws you off course yet you can’t ever really get enough of him no matter how much it annoys you. I see it and I’ve been seeing it for months now and I promise this is the most objective version of me speaking right now.”

“But I like Hyunjin,” you whined, refusing to accept your own feelings.

“And you like me and Kyo too,” Dasom whispered softly, like a breeze passing through a field. “But we don’t fall in Mingi’s category.”

The days leading up to the holidays were spent within the four walls of your room waiting for the time to pass until you’d take your suitcase and haul ass across the country, definitely not because you were afraid to stumble across the very person you were avoiding. After the not so pleasant discovery you didn’t know what to make of yourself or your feelings. You couldn’t just phone him and proclaim your undying love because last time you checked, he explicitly made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you. You from a few months ago would throw a party big enough to think it was for a quinceañera or a sweet sixteen celebration with this information, but the present-you acted like Bella Swan during the disappearance of Edward Cullen just a tad bit less depressing.

Dasom was the first to leave. Her parents surprised her with a vacation to Jeju-island and her flight left the first morning of winter break. Keeho was still in the city but with college out of the way, he took on more working hours than usual. His immediate family lived in Canada and the plane ticket would be more expensive than the salary he’d get over the next two weeks. With your two friends unavailable you passed time thinking about the one who shall not be named and realized how unfortunate the whole situation was. You also realized you probably wouldn’t act upon your feelings as you didn’t with Hyunjin and would just let them flow until evaporating into thin air. 

Speaking of Hyunjin, you and him still texted back and forth albeit the conversations were slow and not nearly as exciting as you once found them to be. Your sudden disappearance at the hockey game was covered with a quick lie of ‘not feeling well’, which he immediately believed because, why wouldn’t he? Christmas wasn't anything special. It started with an early message of Hyunjin wishing you a Merry Christmas attached with a selfie of him in a Santa hat and fake beard, and the rest of the day was spent inside with your family watching movies and drinking hot cocoa. 

The new year was welcomed on the couch where a bump would sooner or later be formed and that alone was enough to explain the excitement level in the household. You all went to sleep a little after midnight and as you laid in your childhood bedroom, feet almost sticking out of the small bed, you mindlessly scrolled down the explore section of Instagram. A pang of sadness struck you at the picture staring back at you through the screen. It was a post of Mingi and his friend — the golden retriever looking one — posing on a snowy mountain both clad in skiing gear. The taller of the two had an arm slung over Mingi’s shoulder who, in return, sported a boyish grin and held up a peace sign. The split lip had healed perfectly and the only indicator of him being in a fight was the slight plum colored mark under his eye (courtesy of a nice punch delivered to his nose). At least someone was happy with you out of their lives. 

Angry, sad and just tired, you exited the app and shoved your phone under the pillow drowning out your scream. You didn’t even know why his post landed on your feed. Wasn’t the explore page supposed to show videos of millennials doing cringy trends and not the most recent activity of the dude that shit all over you.

This continued on for days. While you were decomposing in your room he was updating his Instagram account as if a celebrity. Pictures and videos of him clubbing until the early hours of the morning, pretty girls and tables full of alcohol captured in short stories and then a complete 180; sharing clips of him flying down snowy mountains, doing stunts and whatnot.

If he was so upset with you, why were you the one wasting days self wallowing? It wasn’t like you could party away the worry. Your hometown was the size of a nut meaning A) you knew everyone and their mother, and B) every person in a ten mile radius was well-over the age of forty and the closest thing that came as a party would be the retirement home down the street. Then again, playing bingo with the grannies was better than binge watching gut-wrenching dramas. At least you’d be clearing your ‘to watch-list’.

The weeks passed in a blur and, before you knew it, you were back in the comfort of your apartment with two days to spare until classes started rolling again. Dasom would be home the day after and Keeho was either passed out in his apartment or working his second shift of the day, leaving you to unpack the chaos sealed inside your suitcase. Swirls of snow beat violently against the windows, turning the outside world into a winter wonderland. The heavy weather picked up on your journey home and as you traveled halfway back to Seoul, the ground was slowly being covered in white flakes. You only got so far with your unpacking when a series of knocks rattled against the front door. 

“What’s uuuuup?!” Keeho screeched as you opened the door and an equally excited Dasom rolled in with her red large suitcase. 

“What are you doing here?!” 

They pulled you into a hug. Keeho’s loudness and Dasom’s giggles warmed up the place in no time and you immediately felt better.

“Surprise!”

“I hate you guys!” You exclaimed and squeezed their waists, head resting on Keeho’s shoulder with Dasom’s nose buried against your chest.

“Don’t lie, we know you love us. Now let’s get this bitch started!”

Scurrying to the kitchen Keeho brought back three animated cups; one with Naruto, Totoro and–

“You’re not drinking beer from the cup plastered with a picture of my dead cat!”

“Of course not, that one’s yours. Mine’s the Naruto one and Dasom gets Totoro, for obvious reasons.”

Said girl skipped quickly to the pantry and pulled out multiple bags of snacks. The huge smile on her face got you all curious.

“What’s got you all happy?”

“Nothing, I've just missed you guys! Jeju was fun but it would’ve been better with you there,” she pouted and poured the snacks into separate bowls.

“Pfft, don’t listen to her. She’s been texting that Cruella de Vil boy all winter break.”

Her smile grew and grew until it was a full blown grin and you squealed in delight, genuinely happy for your friend despite the green monster gnawing at the back of your head. 

“Tell me everything, c’mon!”

“Ah, ah, ah!” The fun and what would be the start of a girls’ night was interrupted by Keeho. “I should be the one asking you that, little miss I’m in love with my greatest enemy.”

Gasping, you turned to Dasom. “You told him?!”

“So it’s true?!” 

He leaned towards you and nearly snickered as your hands covered your mouth — if it weren’t for the serious circumstance — and stared at him with wide eyes. You walked right into his trap and as you told him everything that happened — the good and the bad — Dasom threw her hand out, palm facing upward..

“Pay up, pretty boy!”

“They aren’t even together!”

Dasom, a feral little chihuahua, jumped on him and a wrestling match took place in the middle of the living room. You couldn’t find it in you to be mad or upset. Leaning back against your arms, you watched them with a smile tugging at your lips. This is what you missed back in your childhood home. As much as you loved your family, the one you built in the heart of Seoul was very dear to you.

The ding of your phone snapped you out of your love-struck daze.

Hyunjin [07:16 PM] you back home yet?

You [07:16 PM] yeah, arrived a few hours ago

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] im glad

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] how was it?

You [07:17 PM] Good to see the family again but God did I miss my bed

You [07:17 PM] What were you up to?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] yeah no kiddin ik exactly what u mean

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] Nothing much, did a lot of practice on the choreo w Iseul

You [07:17 PM] Ohhhh how’s that coming along?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] it’s good but nowhere near perfect

You scoffed at the reply.

You [07:17 PM] I’m sure you’ll get it down in no time

Keeho harshly grabbed your shoulders, peering down at the screen but not comprehending any of the words.

“And who are you texting?” 

“Hyunjin.”

“Hyunjin!” Dasom sang, already tipsy from the soju she downed while you were busy typing away.

“And what does Mr. Popular want?"

Hyunjin [07:19 PM] wanna help me practice? 

Author's note pt.2: There's one thing I'd like to say regarding this chapter. When it comes to significant others, situation ships, partners, etc do not ever let anyone speak to you in a condescending matter. It doesn't matter how upset they are or what you've done for them to explode, you should never, and I really mean NEVER let anyone talk down to you. The only reason I didn't make MC obliterate Mingi is for the sake of the story, otherwise I'd have her drag him along the streets of Seoul like a dog, lmao. Anyway, if anyone speaks to you like Mingi did to MC in their fighting scene, please either leave/break up or put them in their place. You deserve to be treated with respect and love as much as anyone else.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[enihk-writes]

[before the year ends]

seasonal fics : 除夕 (chú xī) / lunar new year's eve edition

paring: various!hwasan men x gn!reader

summary: things that happen on the last day of the year.

characters: chung myung (can be read as both pbss and mhdd) // chung mun // chung jin // tang bo // tang gunak // jang ilso // jin hyeon // lee songbaek // jin geumryong // baek cheon

author's note: my personal music recommendations for the day are lovers in seoul by off the menu , hot potato by n.flying , coconut love by seoulmoon , mercury by bye bye badman and t + tik tak tok by silica gel feat. So!YoON! (doing this for fun because my other hobby is looking for new music and putting them in a playlist partly because one of my teenage dreams was to open up a cd shop in an art street or own a music-vinyl brunch cafe by the seaside ugggh but you need money like do you know how expensive seaside properties are in singapore!!! i don't have that cash!!! so i have to work!!!! fuck!!!!)

CHUNG MYUNG doesn't like to be cooped up indoors during the festive period. so that afternoon he slipped out to visit the next town over, hearing about their night market and looking forward to getting drunk off his rocker before returning home. only to come face-to-face with you. to his credit he tried to divert your attention to slip away with a bold-faced lie but to be honest, he isn't very good at that. he ends up letting you tag along to buy your silence. which wasn't that bad of a decision — he found himself enjoying the private time he had with you more than he'd expected, like walking through the markets with pinkies interlocked, visiting taverns and teahouses getting mistaken for a couple to get discounts, even the passionate drunken kisses you both shared on the inn balcony which left him quite dazed. when he gets back he would have to have a talk with you about what happened here. though right now he's a little preoccupied with leaving marks all up your neck, hands under your clothes going to places he probably shouldn't, revelling in your embarrassment a little too much. thank goodness he had the foresight to rent out a room to stay in so the both of you could do whatever you wanted in here to the heart's content all night long.

CHUNG MUN watches as you scurry around the sect grounds checking in on the workers who were all preparing for the banquet that was to be held over the new year. as the sect leader he shouldn't interrupt another elder's duties, but as your husband he wanted you to pay attention to him too — it was new years eve and your spouse can't even ask for some alone time with you? you were so cruel, was this how he was to spend the last day of the year? he sighed and turned back to his papers, finishing up with his own work until it was finally time for bed. you met him in the front of your shared house, he finds himself cracking a smile when you bury your face into his chest, he walks you over to sit together on the bench, where you plop your head down on his lap, very much like a certain youngest, pouring your heart out on the annoyances that you've faced today so what has your dear husband have in mind to reward their hardworking partner? the man only chuckles at your ranting, running his fingers until you fell asleep, carrying your tired body to tuck you in bed. he looks over at your peaceful form one more time, kisses your hand and leaves for his own quarters to retire for the night.

CHUNG JIN had been pulled out from under the pile of books he's buried under to take a day off at the behest of the other elders and disciples. not knowing what to do, he hovers around your side, not really wanting to go down the mountain without a solid plan. you thought he looked a little like a lost sparrow then, so you let him stay around as you went about your day. he aided you with small tasks here and there — wasn't he supposed to be on break? old habits die hard, you supposed. he ended up helping you finish your job earlier than intended, bringing the leftovers from the kitchen along, the two of you headed down the forested path at the back of the mountain to wile away the rest of the afternoon as you ate the food and engaged in small talk about nothing in particular. the sun felt warm on your skin, and as it began to set, the sounds of the flowing stream nearby lulled the two elders into a dreamless sleep.

TANG BO stifled a laugh as he looked at your sorry state. only an idiot falls sick on new year's eve — was what he'd told you. you wanted to strangle him right then and there, never mind that he was your husband. he offered to nurse you for the day, supposedly from the kindness of his heart. bullshit. this guy had something up his sleeve, you were so sure of it. but whatever you thought he'd do never happened. your husband truly did take care of you that whole day. he'd wipe off your cold sweat, change towels, feed you food and medication on time, among other things. you thought he'd turn over a new leaf and was just about to praise him when he snickers at you again. maybe you should get sick more often, you're so much nicer when you're quiet like this. too bad for him your fingers were faster as you shove them up his nose to choke him in retaliation. fortune favours the just. the next morning you woke up feeling good as new — your fever had gone away just in time to celebrate the new year. your husband, on the other hand, didn't seem to be doing too well, seemingly catching your cold from yesterday. hmph, serves him right for teasing you like that.

TANG GUNAK could not catch a break even on new year's eve. there was always work to do, the world did not stop on holidays, after all. you slipped into the room quietly with refreshments in hand, hoping to get him to take a short break from his paperwork. the man had sharp ears — recognising the weighted rhythm of your footsteps even as you were on the far end of the hallway. he sets down his brush, getting up to greet you. my love, he'd call out softly, expertly placing away the tray in your hands. you laugh as he pulls you into his embrace, his face burrowing into your shoulder. you try to hug him back with as much vigour you could muster, pulling away just so you could place a few pecks on his face. it wasn't a very long break, but he was grateful for it nonetheless. he sipped on the tea you brewed, listening to your excited recounting of a new novel you had been reading. new years was a time to give thanks for the blessings in life, and he was more than thankful for the way your shoulder felt pressed against his arm as you two sat side by side.

JANG ILSO cared little for the festivities. he wasn't in the mood for any banquet, or party or whatever loud activity. he had been itching to do something, but he couldn't pinpoint what he wanted to do and the idea of going outside annoyed him. you didn't really know, nor cared to find out about your employer's stormy tantrum going on right at that moment. unfortunately for you, you were one of his go-to people to piss off and annoy whenever he wanted to cause trouble. your boss was a temperamental man, and you always walked on eggshells around him. little did you know that you were third on his list of people he liked, so in the off chance that you did piss him off, he wasn't going to get rid of you. not that soon or quickly anyways. he barged into your office with attendants trailing behind him with boxes of drinks, food and entertainment for that evening. he was here to bother you, if you so kindly didn't mind. most of what happened was blurry — you only remembered drinking the sweet wine, going down far too easily, possibly knocking over papers and ink all over your desk and then passing out. the next time you came to, you were in a guest bedroom near your boss' own. the hangover medicine and new clothes already laid out on the table for you. there was no way you had created a moment that your boss could hold over your head as blackmail. no, you detested the teasing that was sure to come from him in the coming year.

JIN HYEON had been out on an errand on behalf of the elders, and finally, he was going back to wudang just in time for new years. he stops by the small diner in the town next door, he often had his meals here whenever he's going out, outwardly he said it's because he liked the lotus root soup with pork ribs served with warm rice. in reality, he just wanted to find a chance to talk to you, the owner — a familiar face he had known since both of you were mere apprentices. though now you had taken over the restaurant your adoptive grandfather had left behind for you while he had risen up to the rank of a second-grade disciple. the diner was small, and the business was decent enough to make ends meet, but it wasn't so busy that you didn't have time to sit across him to have a short chat before he headed off. you asked him if he would stay and visit the night market this year. he shook his head sadly, feeling bad that he was turning down your offer yet again. you shook your disappointment off, opting to change the topic. the hour passed far too quickly, and he had to report back to the elders before night fall. you walk him towards the door, just as the wind picks up from where your back was turned, pushing you into his chest. the man takes the opportunity to pull you a little closer, accidentally placing a peck on your forehead. you didn't think he'd be this affectionate today but who cared? it was new years eve and it's been a while since he had walked you home. maybe next year you could ask him again to come with you to the night market.

LEE SONGBAEK had gone to his hometown for the new year celebrations. he had been given permission by the elders to do so, along with a good majority of the other disciples. things had been really quiet back in the sect with nobody really wanting to do anything with them. speaking of which, he hadn't seen his family in years by now, and he wondered how they were all doing. he didn't plan to spend too much time — have dinner, catch up, stay overnight and leave the next morning. he didn't expect to see that you would also be in his house, helping out with the new year's eve dinner. he could smell the dough and sesame paste drying out in the sun for the tang-yuan they'd all have later. actually, he thinks most of the village was congregated at his house. the disciples who had tagged along with him were a little taken aback at the size of the crowd, much to his embarrassment. he didn't think his village would be so stoked to have him back on new years with his sect brothers. you slipped out of the kitchen to greet him as the elders fussed over the boys that had come to visit. he leans over to greet you, feeling a small smile pull at his lips when you tousle his hair. his original plan might have been a little thwarted, but since you were here, he didn't really mind. ah, when he goes back to the sect, he should ask if the tailor was accepting any apprentices — if he were, and you came over, he might see you around more often in the coming year.

JIN GEUMRYONG wished he was anywhere else but here right now. but, as the eldest and prodigal son he should behave appropriately. he slips out of the banquet hall at the first opportunity, making shoddy excuses like needing to go to the restroom. he finds a spot in the quietest part of the estate, taking a moment to collect himself from the incessant social interaction he's had the whole day. soft footsteps approach him — really? he feels annoyed, but tries to reign back his distaste when he sees your smiling face beaming at him. go away. he tells you, not in the mood to deal with whatever you were about to drag him into. please? you'd beg, your hand pulling at his arm to get him on his feet. there was something you wanted to show him, and if he didn't go with you now, he was going to miss it! the man agreed reluctantly, letting you take him to the lake behind the hills. the night sky was clear and he could see every sparkling star in the sky. you sit on a fallen log, seemingly waiting for something to happen. he sits right by you, choosing not to question your actions. and then — there it was. the stars fell from the sky one after another, painting the night in long white painter's lines. he'd never seen anything like this in his life thus far, and he might not ever see it again. but it didn't matter. when you asked, doesn't it look amazing? he could only hum, unable to take his eyes off you all while your gaze was turned to the spectacle in the skies.

BAEK CHEON, for the life of him, can't decide which tassel he wanted to buy and ended up just getting a roll of thread in plum-blossom pink to make one on his own. the handiwork was clumsy, clearly amateurish with the bronze coin woven into the accessory. it certainly resembled the shape of a tassel — if you didn't look at the finer details too closely and for too long. you could see him look embarrassed at the quality and was already regretting giving it to you. but how could you not want his sincere gift? you loved it, flaws and all, because it was from him and you wanted to be reminded of the idea that this perfectionist still could make mistakes. you pull him down for a kiss. and then another. and another, until you were peppering his whole face in kisses because your heart couldn't handle this gap in his personality. your poor love, look at how red his face had become. he didn't know whether to be happy that you liked his gift this much, or feel shy at the public show of affection in a place where everyone in the sect could possibly see? you can't help but snicker mischievously as you skipped away from the scene — leaving the poor boy in a flustered mess.

[soulkeeper801]

Distance - Im Nayeon

Im Nayeon x f!reader

Fluff

Nayeon loved to tour. 

Being away with the girls was almost like a break from the routine she had already set for herself in Seoul. Even if the first days would be filled with jet lag and getting up early felt even harder, she enjoyed the feeling of being overseas. 

Wandering through the streets of LA reminded her how her hard work had paid off, she saw herself on the biggest screens of the city and noticed how people recognized her while walking by. 

She took a picture of the sunset with her phone and sent it to you.

“I wish you were here right now,” she texted.

If she wasn’t wrong, you should be having breakfast at home. 

“Love your view, baby!” you texted back immediately. “I’m gonna have brunch with Chaeryeong in a while, let’s talk later?”

Nayeon sighed. 

“Sure, love. Say hi to Chaer for me”.

She took a look at the colors that the sun painted on the clouds and smiled softly at them. At least you were both under the same sky.

Nayeon arrived at her hotel room a couple of hours later. She went to have dinner at a fancy restaurant with Momo and Chaeyoung and spent a while shopping around the city. Her mind relaxed for a moment and she forgot about all her responsibilities while enjoying a short time out.

She took a seat in front of her mirror and prepared herself to take her makeup off. As she did so, she video called you to see your face before going to bed.

“My love,” you said, while you were trying to place the phone against the flower vase on the table of your shared apartment, trying to make it stand.

She smiled widely at the sight of you with a bowl of what seemed to be cereal. A sandwich on a plate next to it. For a second it felt like she was back home.

“Unnie!” a voice shouted in the back, “I’m taking good care of Y/N so you don’t have to worry!”

Chaeryeong. 

Nayeon’s smile faded away slowly.

“I thought you were going out for brunch,” Nayeon said, grabbing a piece of cotton dipped in micellar water.

“Oh, no, no,” Chaeryeong replied before you, “I decided to cook something here and let Y/N have a little taste of what I can do”.

Nayeon gulped. That didn’t have a double meaning, did it?

“How was your day, babe?” you asked, noticing how her mood had changed due to Chaeryeong’s answer.

“Fine, I got us matching bracelets for our second anniversary. I wanted it to be a surprise but I’m just too excited,” she said, her wide smile returning to her face as she left the cotton pad on the drawer bringing the phone closer to her face.

“Beautiful,” you whispered. 

She blushed at the comment even if she was expecting it.

“Unnie, I’m going to the store real quick to get more milk, do you need anything?”

You shook your head and Chaeryeong grabbed your keys before making her way out.

“She’s driving your car?” Nayeon asked, raising an eyebrow at the action.

“Babe,” you said, dragging out your words. “You’re not mad she’s spending time with me, are you?”

“Am I mad that the girl who used to have the biggest crush on you only happens to hang out with you when I’m not around?” she asked sarcastically, tapping her index finger on her chin repeatedly. “What do you think?”

You chuckled. “I love you, alright? She’s just being the friendly kid she is. I know I’m like a sister to her”.

Nayeon rolled her eyes. “You’re mine, alright? I don’t share”.

“I know, 100% yours”.

She smirked at your words. “Now show me what you’re wearing”.

“Im Nayeon!” you shouted, “she’s going to be back any minute!”

She chuckled at your reaction. “I’ll call you before you go to bed, be ready for me, alright?”

[hobaworld7]

hii!! Can I request a date night with shinee? Your other shinee imagines was so good! I really enjoy reading it! Thank you! 💗

I swear every time I see SHINee request, it just makes my heart so so happy. Enjoy dear shawols!

SHINee reaction - Date night

JINKI

A date with Jinki would be something fun!

Cooking class, pottery class, art class, etc.

He didn't care if you were both good or not at the class!

He wants to be able to talk with you and laugh a loooot

Always trying to make you laugh

Buuut like even if he doesn't try onew is funny

And it would end with a coffee or some pastries in a near restaurant

Walking you home

Kissing you on the cheek before you enter your apartment/house

Funny and a bit of a romantic

___

KIBUM

Idk if i'm biased because Kibum is my ultimate bias buuut (clearly I am)

Like Key is amazing at everything so obviously he would be the most romantic of them all

He would come at your door, with your favorite flowers and a big hug

Then he would have plan the en-ti-er day

Starting with going out to eat, cute brunch spot with some amazing alcoholic drinks

After that, a walk around Seoul or Han River or

I feel like he would be the kind of guy to hold your hand and put it in his pocket, to warm it up. And give you his other gloves; And even his scarf if you need

He really wants you to be comfy and enjoy the day

___

MINHO

I feel like Minho is a 50/50

50% of a romantic date

50% of a funny and crazy date

For your dates, both

He would definitely bring you to a field and play soccer

And having a picnic just after

He would make sure that you are comfortable

Maybe laying on a blanket and watching the sunset and the stars too

Because he's flaming charisma, and he knows it.

___

TAEMIN

Taemin is such a sweetheart omg

He would take you for a tour around Seoul

Wanting to see your favorite spot

And show you his

Eating street food all day long

Hands in hands

And he will buy you a plush

He will ask you if you wanna come over for a movie

And cuddle with you all evening

___

If you want to read more, here is the link of my masterlist : https://www.tumblr.com/kimtaehyung-taetae-writing/710423978560421888/masterlist?source=share

thank you shawol and army!

[calpicowater]

Week 25.6/52: June 17th - June 23rd 2024 | First Full Day in Seoul

lots of rain

some bibimbap for brunch

starfield library 📖

coex mall (hi ryan!)

DDP

street food rice cakes... can't believe all these ajummas speak so much chinese???? like it's easier for me to order in chinese than to struggle in english or my broken korean...

ihwa mural village... so hard to climb seoul stairs...

nice view of seoul tho!

mini tanghulu near hongdae

[gvldenglimmr]

[  kim yoojung,  cis woman,  she / her,  muse 14  ] welcome  to  show  name,  ANNABELLE SEO —  or  should  i  say  the  hopeless romantic?  …  a  quick  google  search  tells  me  you’re  a  TWENTY FIVE  year  old  HOTEL HEIRESS who’s worth 12M.  you've  called  avalon  home  for  TWO YEARS,  however  something  tells  me  there’s  more  to  you  than  a  flashy  resume  and  penthouse  15A  on  your  door  ?  it  seems  you’ve  managed  to  earn  a  reputation  around  the   city   for  being  WISHFUL,  yet,  upon  further  investigation  it  seems  you're  also  quite  STEADFAST.  but  hey,  thats  the  kind  of  mix  that  keeps  people  guessing.  i'm  sure  as  a  PISCES  you're  used  to  people  commenting  on  your  HERMES MINI KELLY IN BLACK ALLIGATOR  /  GLOSSY LIPS WITH MATCHING FLUSHED CHEEKS ; A BEAT UP SKETCHBOOK FILLED WITH SIDE PROFILES OF STRANGERS FROM MEMORY ; WISTFUL GLANCES FILLED WITH A DECADE OF YEARNING ; MIMOSAS IN THE MIDMORNING SUNLIGHT ; BIRKIN BAGS IN AN ARRAY OF NEUTRALS  .  but  still  we  can't  wait  to  watch  you  flourish  (  or  fail  )  these  next  few  weeks  …

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . BASICS

Name :: Seo Ae-Cha aka Annabelle SeoAge :: twenty - five Gender && Pronouns :: cis woman && she / her Sexuality :: bisexual Apartment :: 15A Occupation :: hotel heiress Birthdate :: march 3rd Birthplace :: gangnam district, seoul, south korea Current Residency :: manhatten, new york

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . Personality

Traits :: wishful, hardworking, jealous, romantic, crafty, mildly insecure, intellegent, organized, sometimes impulsive, easily embarassed, observant, loyal Labels :: the hopeless romantic, the jealous Habits :: daydreaming, gossiping, toys with her hair when she's anxious, nail picking when lying, falling in love with strangers Hobbies :: sketching, reading, brunching with the girls, journaling, shopping Love Languages :: physical touch, words of affirmation, quality time

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . Important Tidbits

born in gangnam, but didn't live in south korea for very long. the seo family were in the middle of growing their international chain of hotels and resorts, and moved to new york city to center their base of operations within the states.

the eldest of two ( her brother being fifteen ), annabelle is set to inherit the buisness from her father once he's ready to retire. this will inevitably boost her net worth to over $200m.

tended to be top of her class, graduated valedictorian from high school & ended up attending colombia. currently holds her bachelors in financial economics as per the request of her father.

spends her time as a socialite & minor influencer while she waits for the buisness to be handed down to her. her current net worth has been earned on her own ( for the most part ) thanks to her own business choices.

while she's extremely school and business smart, she struggles to find her footing with her personal life. she tends to feel rather insecure in her friendships and gets jealous easily when she feels like they're slipping away, making her do whatever she needs in order to cling to these relationships.

she's also far too romantic for her own good. she's the type of girl to meet someone on the street and spend the rest of the day thinking about what an entire life with them would look like. she tends to carry around a sketchbook that is filled to the brim with sketches of her day-to-day crushes.

her father tends to criticize her daydreaming habits, demanding that she grow up so that she doesn't run his business into the ground ( something that would be impossible for her to do on her own thanks to the board ).

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . Connection Ideas

brunch friends, just a group of people she meets up with regularly to enjoy fancy food & complain about their lives & gossip relentlessly.

the ever rotating flock of day to day crushes that she inevitably has. they can be fleeting, one off instances or reoccurring as fit.

someone that her father inevitably compares her to. while she's successful in her own right, she's very much not up to her standards. think of it as a rival

exes, varying in levels of friendliness ( what's a lovergirl without a history right? )

one very specific ex that she goes back to almost religiously when she's feeling neglected & rejected. a mistake every single time, it's only a temporary bandaid for her feelings and leaves her miserable every time

[aeinova]

welcome to novatober!

here is a timeline of events that will happen for nova as she turns 30. woohoo! don't worry, October will be a light month in terms of character development, especially because she will have a rough November and partially rough December due to the accident being heard in court.

for now though, have some breakdowns of two parties (one exclusive in the Hamptons, the other in Seoul).

#1: the Hamptons!

only a few select muses were invited to this one. if your muse did not receive an invite via Twitter DMS or isn't a plus one to those said muses, please skip ahead.

this party is directly inspired from the Ralph Lauren fashion show that happened a few weeks ago in the Hamptons. the theme for this party will essentially be Ralph Lauren, to match the pictures that exist already of Krystal:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by KRYSTAL (@vousmevoyez)

so think what your muse would wear to something such as a Wimbledon match or a very chic fashion show. it will happen on Saturday, October 19 (EST because that is my current time zone). i will link a few instagram posts, and these are free to use for inspo or for your muse to post:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Ralph Lauren Home (@ralphlaurenhome)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Ralph Lauren Home (@ralphlaurenhome)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Polo Ralph Lauren (@poloralphlauren)

a general timeline:

• Arrival for muses: October 18 or October 19 in the morning.

• October 18 — Free day: Nova will be heading to NYC for shopping with any muses who would like to tag along. She will shop in the fashion district where ultimately she opts for the brown gown seen in the Ralph Lauren videos.

• October 19 — Party starts at 6pm EST: Arrivals for all muses. Cue an orchestra at arrival. A few celebrity NPCs will be there, such as the CEO of Ralph Lauren, Jessica, Aespa members, Models, Nova's team, etc. The party will include food and music. It's generally going to be quite entertaining.

• October 20 — Brunch @ Poolside. Let your muses enjoy the last bits of warmth the New York state can offer. The pool is heated, and so is the hot tub. The breakfast buffet is endlessly with tons of staff on hand.

• October 21 —. Departure. 🤍

accommodations:

your muse will have the option to either stay at the Jung's private residence in the Hamptons:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Goldbar Real Estate Coaching (@goldbar)

or, stay at their own choice of hotel/house. all expenses are paid by Nova's sponsors.

#2 The Four Seasons – Seoul!

this will be a general party for those who still want to celebrate Nova on the day of her birthday, October 24 @ 8pm korean time. this party will also have the same sort of theme, except imagine it as a full Itaewon club. the music will be blasting, there is VIP rooms and the booze is endless in the main ballroom of the Four Seasons:

https://www.fourseasons.com/seoul/meetings-and-events/function-rooms/third-floor/grand_ballroom/

i will let this party be something muses can freely plan and roleplay around a bit. you can have them be messy, go into VIP areas and do whatever they want, have them dance all night, let them have a really good time or a really bad time— up to you! drama is allowed.

at some point, everyone will sing happy birthday to Nova, so let that be something to include in any posts made.

andddd that's about it. it's supposed to really just show what kind of idea i have going on. if you have any questions, feel free to DM me!

[aleahalfano]

#002 Brunch Club.

Dress - Roslyn - Ensley Outfit [NEW] @ Seoul Sessions

Hair - Doux - Bellami

Boots - Tetra - Lara High Boots

Bag - Rue - A Tote Bag

Phone - Hive - stay hydrated . phone+key

[alphabetboyluvr]

Hiii, I’m headed to South Korea in a couple days and wondering if you have any must-do/see/eat recommendations in the Seoul or Busan area! :)

ahh exciting, I hope you have the best time! the weather's cooling so youve chosen a great time ^^

for seoul, ikseondong is a really sweet hanok-lined neighbourhood crammed full of places to eat / things to do. you can easily lose a day here! there's a tteok shop that sells traditional rice cakes - I loveeee tteok so much, so you should deffo try some!

one of my fave cafe chains is camel coffee. they've got branches dotted all over the place in seoul - the seongsu branch is tiny and I love it, the one near seoul forest (no.7) is probably my fave.

my must-visit place for a bts lover is DAEO bookstore/cafe. its where I take all of my bts friends on their first visits - namjoon has been a couple of times and the vibe is just immaculate.

it's probably already on your list, but hyuga, the cafe in the old bts dorm is worth a visit - you might see an old post it note from me there hehe.

The Royal in itaewon is one of my fave brunch spots, and Plant too (but you're often waiting for a table).

for busan - DADAEPO!!!! it's my fave beach and you get the most gorgeous sunset over a mountainous horizon. just stunning!! ride the orange line right to the end, and you'll find it ^^

now the weather is cooling, I'd suggest the igidae coastal trail, too. I'm not a hiker at all, but it's a pretty chill trail and has the most amazing views.

there's a cafe called little aus that I highly recommend - again, a good brunch spot!!

I'm very much a cafe throughout the day as opposed to a big meal in the evening kinda girlie haha.

for general branches all over the country, ttangttangs chicken do my fave chicken - the herb chicken is to die for and the herb fries, my gaaaawd I love them. they've got branches in loads of places, but there's one right near haeundae beach front. dooki tteokbokki is a chain of serve yourself / buffet style tteokbokki. Good for small groups!

if you want, you can message me off anon and I can send you a list of navermaps pins for my faves ^^

enjoy your trip!!!

[tsevents]

street fashion floods dongdaemun design plaza and nightclubs amp up for the last great afterparties of summer. with seoul fashion week just around the corner as the first event on the global fashion week calendar for the s/s 2024 season, the the goal is to go bigger and better than ever. to turn more eyes than ever to the event, a partnership with several management agencies based in seoul has been announced, not the least of which are the four companies calling the new the four building in seoul home.

seoul fashion week officially takes place from september 5 to september 9. unofficially, a kickoff brunch is being held the day prior, beginning the week in earnest for the celebrity masses of seoul. talent from adagio, culture creative, everlast entertainment, and secret garden have all been courted to take place in the event to help raise the event's profile. naturally, in exchange for front row seats at shows and top-tier access to all of the week's activities, the talent rosters of these companies, regardless of typical vicinity to the fashion industry, are expected to show up and participate in organized events and press calls.

event schedule:

the following are event highlights to prompt thread and plot setting ideas. this is not necessarily all-inclusive of all possible seoul fashion week-related settings that can be used for the event. everyone is welcome to explore the seoul fashion week website and related news for further ideas.

sept. 4 - marie claire korea brunch: hosted by the popular fashion magazine, the marie claire korea brunch will be held the day before fashion week kicks off. the brunch will be held at the rooftop event facilities of the four's northwest tour (housing adagio's offices and facilities). brunch will be prepared by private chefs and mixologists to launch the week off right. after taking the mandatory pictures at the small red carpet photo op area, the atmosphere will be fairly casual and attendees may mingle as they wish, though marie claire korea staff and fashion press will be present. attendees will include celebrities, social elites, designers, and fashion journalists. free goodie bags will be on offer from several brands, spanning beauty, jewelry, and food industries. as this brunch is held at the recently opening the four and is meant to spark the buzz for fashion week, attendance here will be most expected. sept. 5 - 9 - runway shows & exhibiton: a complete schedule of runway shows and the adsb andersson bell exhibition can be found here. a number of front row seats to each show will be dispersed among celebrity guests as seen fit, as will admission tickets to private visiting hours to the exhibition. it is common for brands to welcome celebrity guests to dinner or reception after the show. sep. 9 - dazed korea x ul:kin x cahiers seoul fashion week afterparty: as fashion week comes to an end, seoul collection brands ul:kin and cahiers join fashion magazine dazed korea to serve host to the most exclusive afterparty of the week at a high-end hotel and club venue in seoul. a night of dancing and djs, this is a guest list only party for seoul's top stars... and anyone else who might belong to a top seoul entertainment agency. after a week of photo ops and always being on, the afterparty promises to be a lively end to a busy week.

event prompts:

the following prompts can be completed until the end of the event. completion of each prompt will result in earning one booking point, for a total of up to five booking points. for ease of access, please tag completions of these prompts with #thefoursfw.

threads: complete at least five threads related to the event. each of the threads must be with a different muse and you must make at least three posts of your own towards each thread (starter / reply / reply or reply / reply / reply). this prompt may overlap with the other thread prompt below. new interactions: participate in threads with at least three muses your muse has not previously threaded with. you must make at least three posts of your own towards each thread (starter / reply / reply or reply / reply / reply). this prompt may overlap with the other thread prompt above. participation proposal: submit a proposal for your muse to be involved in seoul fashion week festivities in some way other than watching a runway show or attending the brunch or afterparty by using this form. feel free to get creative, as long as it can reasonably fit within the scale and budget of seoul fashion week. some example ideas are: modeling in a runway show, having a runway show for their own brand, giving an opening or closing ceremony performance, giving a performance as part of a runway show, djing an afterparty, acting in or directing a campaign film for a seoul fashion week brand, filming a fashion week vlog, etc. character development item: create and post a character development item related to the event. if the muse completes the participation proposal, this can be related to that. if not, you're welcome to make the item related to the skeleton of the event itself. some general example ideas for character development items can be found here. the source submission: submit an article, forum post, or blind item to the source blog related to the event.

ooc info

this event will run until saturday, september 16 at 6am kst (acceptance time). please tag event-related posts with #thefoursfw. participation in this event is optional, though encouraged.

[yutafrita]

The Eternal Tragedy- CHAPTER THREE

⋆☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡°✩🪐°. ⋆ ･: ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡°✩⋆ ･:

CHAPTER One/ Two/ Three/ Four/ P / B

SEE YOU COWGIRL, SOMEDAY, SOMEWHERE!

Pairing(s): Mafia!Yuta x Reader, Mafia!Sungchan x Reader Reader Pronouns: She/ Her Genre: Angst, Sci-Fi, Fantasy Chapter Word Count: 9.4K Warnings: GRAPHIC depictions violence, GRAPHIC depictions of death, a LOT of blood towards the end of this chapter, alcohol use, mentions of a fraternity, suggestive scenes (?idk how else to describe this one it's like 3/4 in)

Masterlist

⋆☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡°✩🪐°. ⋆ ･: ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡°✩⋆ ･:

It was odd to see Shotaro in the daylight. He had insisted on taking you and the waitstaff out for breakfast before your last day as a waitress, and while you and the rest of the waitstaff would get together on occasion, seeing the young man smiling out with all of you was definitely weird.

“I expect a whole parade when I leave,” Seulgi teased, her mimosa swirling in the glass in her hand. Shotaro had selected a rooftop restaurant in the fashion district of Neuvo Seoul, giving you all a view of the bustling city below.

“I don’t think you should participate in a parade at 100 years old,” Chaein taunted, earning laughs from everyone else.

“Are you excited?” Jisung asked you. He had been relatively quiet this morning, likely feeling nervous that he would soon be taking your place as a part of the waitstaff full time.

“Well, I’m excited to go to Mercury,” you lied, your smile still forced. “I just need to brush up on my accounting skills.”

“Being an accountant is just counting money, right? I do that everyday,” Irene sent you a reassuring smile. She was the most helpful when you told the staff about your robbery and that you would be taking the new job, even offering to go with you whenever you were sent to other planets for work.

According to Sungchan, the files and information you would need are in different places of the solar system as the syndicate never kept its information online. Since you would also be expected to… play with some numbers, you would need to visit the syndicates legal venues to help you do so. 

“There’s this really cool theme park there, I highly recommend going to it if you have free time,” Shotaro added.

“What is with you and theme parks, man?” Jisung questioned, seeming to be annoyed by his supervisor.

“Hey, life’s short! Let the man go to his little theme parks,” Goeun chided. She glanced your way, and you sent her the somber smile you had been wearing all morning. You liked your job. You liked your coworkers. Hell, you even liked your syndicate supervisor. The thought of not being able to work alongside them made your chest feel a heavy weight.

“You’re not dying, we’ll all still be bothering you,” Seulgi jumped in, catching the look you still had on.

You smiled again, “none of you guys could ever really bother me,” you shot a glance over to Jisung, “not even the little mouse.”

“They’re supposed to be rat ears,” Jisung sighed, his hands reaching up to cover the tiny mouse ears on his head. You all laughed again, watching a red heat rise on his ears.

Shotaro lifted his glass, “well, this is not a goodbye, this is just us wishing you good luck.” 

Luck, something that seemed to not be on your side lately. For the past week since your break in, you had been staying with Goeun and her younger sister, choosing to crash on their couch rather than be alone in the apartment. Sungchan, much to your dismay, put Yuta in charge of upgrading the security system of the place, and while it was certainly safer, the little nagging part of your brain could not get over the fact that your place had been violated. You even tried calling your mother afterwards, ready to swallow your pride and beg for her financial help, but she wouldn’t even answer your plethora of phone calls.

But, you need to be an adult again. So, after brunch and before your final shift for work that day, you went back to Goeun’s to pack up your small backpack.

“You can stay one more night,” Goeun pleaded, watching as you shoved your sneakers away. Her younger sister, Dosie, was unable to hide the joy she felt watching you pack, though. You loved her like she was your own sibling, but she made it very clear to you that she was unhappy with their current arrangement.

“Let her be, Goeun. Do you need any help packing?” she offered, removing the water bottle you had left on the floor without a proper coaster.

You shook your head, standing up as you finished gathering your things. “Thanks you guys, I’ll see you tonight Goeun.”

The sisters lived in a complex two blocks over from the Sosa subway station, so you started your walk over. Neuvo Seoul was fully alive now, and you melted together with the crowds of citizens and tourists alike moving about their day. You and Goeun both grew up on the other side of the planet in Paris-York, and while they certainly had their differences, you were convinced that large cities were all the same. All overstuffed with people, mostly a lack of regard for fellow pedestrians, random patches of town that smelled like piss, and a disinterested upper class.

You took your time getting through your commute, trying to bide your time and delay the inevitable. You wiped the sweat off the palms of your hands onto the bottom of the floral dress you still had on from the morning, nervous as your complex came into view. Stealing a glance at a newspaper stand, everything around you seemed the same. Your entire sense of self was crushed within a few brief moments, but not a thing around you seemed to have changed. 

You entered your apartment complex, waving hello to neighbors you passed on your way in. You moved up the steps at a sluggish pace, staring intently at your feet as you did so. 

“Ah, look who's back,” the cheery voice snapped your eyes up. Yuta was leaning against your door, his tail wagging once he saw the surprise in your eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“You really thought Sungchan wanted to leave your place unguarded after a break in?” Yuta scoffed. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “I haven’t been home since the break-in.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“Have you been staking out in front of my apartment for a week?” you whispered, moving closer to the fox. 

“Me and a few other people,” Yuta shrugged. You resisted the urge to facepalm, already fighting off a headache at what your neighbors had to think. “Still haven’t found the robbers yet, sadly.”

“I know, Sungchan has been texting me that same message like every hour,” you grumbled, taking your keys out from your pocket. “Am I allowed to go into my own place now?”

“I guess I can allow it,” he sarcastically bit, moving to the side for you to quickly enter your place, “I’ll be out here if you need anything.”

“I won’t,” you bristled, shutting the door behind you. Alone in your apartment, any strength you felt was gone as you assessed your space. After the break-in, Sungchan had a few syndicate members help put your apartment back together as best as they could since the robbers also decided to break a few cups and picture frames on their way out. There was a faint echo in the space as you padded to your room, and an ache in your chest formed as you saw the empty wall which formerly held a painting your grandfather made.

A couple of earrings. Your favorite pair of heels. Several dresses. All of your vintage movies. Your grandfather’s painting. All of your flowers. All of your money.

It was an eclectic assortment of items to steal to say the least. You assessed the syndicate members' attempt to hang up your broken picture frames, frowning as you glared at the photo of you and your parents at your high school graduation. You went to your community college for two years before transferring to a university in Neuvo Seoul, but you remember how much this annoyed your mother. You wanted to save money, but she wanted a daughter she could proudly flaunt to her rich friends.

As the day progressed, you started mindlessly making dinner, watching the clock as you did. Then, you remembered the man outside your door.

Releasing a sigh, you cracked the front door open, “do you want ramen?”

Yuta happily took up your offer, perching himself on the chair in your kitchen island as you quickly served the two even plates. It was eerie. The peeling red paint of the apartment complimented the man very well: accenting the designer blood red suit he wore and his red fox ears and tail. He knew that your apartment wasn’t perfect, but his face still held one of fascination as his eyes scanned the kitchen.

“It was my grandparents. They bought it in 2060,” you don’t know why you decided to tell Yuta this. Maybe it was the way his eyes grew wide as you spoke, and how he quietly observed and listened. “My grandpa moved in with my parents a few years before he died, but he still had the lease to this place and left it to me.”

“Where do your parents live?” he asked, slurping up the ramen. You picked at your noodles, your elbows leaning heavily on your kitchen island.

“Paris-York, I moved here when I went to university.”

“Hm, Sungchan’s from Paris-York,” Yuta noted, and you raised an eyebrow in response. “He moved here when he was much younger, but I’m pretty sure that’s where he’s from.”

“It’s a… fine city,” you shrugged.

“Are you excited to go to Mercury?” he prompted. You noted that within a few minutes he had nearly finished his bowl despite you hardly even beginning to poke at your own food. You forced yourself to take a mouthful of noodles as you thought over his question. While you told the waitstaff that you were excited, you felt that you couldn’t hide the pit in your stomach anymore when it came to flying to Mercury.

“I guess. It’ll be my first time visiting another planet,” you admitted, your lip twitching. You felt too old to admit this. Most people have visited other planets and interplanetary travel had become extremely safe, yet you couldn’t shake the anxiety it made you feel.

“Are you afraid of ships, angel?” Yuta caught.

You frowned, “humans weren’t meant to travel between planets like this.”

Yuta pointed his chopstick at you, shaking his head as he did so. “You see, that line of thinking is what stops human innovation.”

******

Your last shift as a waitress in the garden was surreal. Taeyeon had given you a free dandelion tea, you were tipped supremely well working the bar, and you laughed with a smile brighter than ever as you walked back home afterwards with the rest of the waitstaff.

“I’ll see you guys soon,” you chirped. The girls all tugged you into a group hug, and parted ways from you. You lingered outside your complex for a moment, watching the group of girls chat and finish the short trek to the subway station. A shadow you had felt since you left the club now hovered your shoulder. 

You sighed, “what time do I need to report to the ship station?”

“Sungchan’s having a car pick you up, angel. I think 1000 should be fine,” Yuta’s voice chimed, not even phased that you hadn’t turned back to face him.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” you grumbled, fiddling with the keys in your bag before you let yourself into your apartment building. Yuta slinked in behind you, humming as he did so.

“I like how much it bothers you,” he replied, and you didn’t even have to look at him to know that he wore a devilish smile. You pinched the bridge of your nose once you stood at your front door.

“Why don’t you just… go home? And rest? I think I’ll be fine on my own for a few hours.”

Yuta shook his head, “no can do, angel.”

You frowned, opening your front door. “Do you want to just sit inside then?”

A look of fear crossed Yuta’s face, and you saw him glance behind himself as if someone was listening to you two. You rolled your eyes at this.

“I’m not asking you to fuck me. I just feel bad at the thought of you standing out here in the cold for hours.”

Yuta pressed his lips into a tight line, seeming to weigh his options. You sighed, stepping one foot into your apartment before you glanced back at the fox man, “the door’s unlocked, if you decide to come in.”

It had taken Yuta about a half an hour, but he quietly entered your apartment as you were packing your suitcase. You were perched on the edge of your couch, nodding once you met his gaze. You had changed into decidedly more comfortable clothing that was vastly different from what you typically wore at work, but Yuta didn’t bat an eye at your sweats.

“You should be sleeping by now,” he commented, his back pressed against your front door.

“I could say the same to you. Seriously, when was the last time you slept a full eight hours?”

Yuta looked up, mulling over a response as you chuckled. 

“Before my initiation, I think.”

“Ah, of course,” you hummed, folding the last of your clothes. Shutting the suitcase, you set yourself on top to help press it together and make it easier to zip up. The center part of the luggage was refusing to close, and you hunched over it as you tried to shut it. 

So quiet you hadn’t even noticed he moved, Yuta had crossed the kitchen and living room to kneel in front of you, his hands meeting yours to quickly shut the suitcase without any hesitation. 

You flopped back onto the couch, sighing in defeat. “Thanks.”

Yuta stayed kneeling for a moment before moving to the furthest corner of the couch. “It’s no problem.”

“You know I don’t bite, right?” Your eyes were drooping, exhaustion already starting to take over as you stared up at the popcorn ceiling.

“I know you don’t.”

You yawned, “and you know I’m no one's property either, right?”

You heard Yuta sigh, as if this was an internal debate he had been dealing with already. “I know.”

“Then why are you even afraid of sitting near me?”

Yuta was quiet for a while, and in that time your eyes slowly started to shut, your breathing slowly evening out.

“I dreamt about you,” Yuta’s soft voice forced your eyes back open, your eyes meeting his. “It’s silly to put so much weight into dreams… but it was just so surreal.”

“Mmm,” you grunted, your eyes meeting his. “I dreamed about you too, but I’m not being weird about it.”

He chuckled then, shifting himself ever so slightly on the couch so that he could be closer to you. “You’re right.”

“I know,” you replied. Slowly, you began drifting off to sleep, the hum of your apartment lights sending you deep into your dreams.

Now, you stood on the top of a hill, a strong wind pushing your hair and dress around. The fresh air was powerful, filing your lungs as you stared up at the big, blue, open sky.

“I miss this,” a silvery voice next to you spoke. You glanced over. Sungchan stood with his hands in his pockets, the wind wrapping his hair around the horns on his head and fluffing the feathers on his wings. 

“No other planet in this solar system is quite as lovely as earth,” he turned his eyes to meet your gaze, “nor is any face as lovely as yours.”

“Even my dream version of you is overly flirty and… weird,” you sighed, “earth’s been uninhabitable since 2062 ”

“... it’s cute that you dream of me, even if it’s only after you dream of Yuta.”

“At least you aren’t covered in blood.”

“I’ve been on earth before,” he interjected. You glanced back over to the young man, watching as his jaw clenched tightly.

“We’re here now,” you replied, seeing the clouds roll over in the sky. 

Sungchan sniggered, “this version of you is adorable.”

“The dream version of you is weirder, actually.”

His arm wrapped around your waist, and he tugged you closely to him. You braced your arms, placing your hands on his chest in an attempt to push yourself off to no avail. Sungchan tightened his grip, pulling you closer despite you fighting against him.

“As long as you still think this is a dream, I’ll treat this as one,” he set his chin on the crown of your head, his voice vibrating against his chest and your cheek that was pressed against him.

“This is not what I’d want in a dream,” you huffed, dropping your arms in defeat. Sungchan’s hand hooked under your chin, lifting your eyes up to see him. “Let go of me,” you whispered.

“You’ll have to kill me first, for once.”

******

Your first day in Mercury, Sungchan had left you alone to deal with mountains of senseless documents at the syndicate's beer garden. Santiago de Mercurio was the capital of the planet and prided itself in being “classier” than other big cities in the galaxy, which really just meant more stuck up, brighter lights, and an underbelly you had to go digging for. In Neuvo Seoul, it was easy to just stumble into syndicate dealings and even easier to turn a blind eye. Here though, the Mercurio Beer Garden held an air of seriousness that The Garden you had known and worked at all these years, would never touch.

Johnny, the man you had met while training Jisung and also the night Sungchan had you pose for him, was the man in charge of the Mercurio Beer Garden. He had shown you the office filled to the brim with disorganized papers while wearing a sheepish grin.

“When was the last time you had someone managing the finances?” you asked the tall man.

He scratched the back of his neck, thinking this over. “I wanna say about four months?”

Johnny had set down what he deemed “necessary paperwork” in one corner and asked if you needed anything else. He seemed kind, and stood out to you from the other syndicate members you’ve slowly been acquainting yourself with, although his tattoo was just as prominent as everyone else’s. It was his lack of accentors that took you back. They were such a sign of wealth and status in the solar system that seeing someone as visibly well off as him not having any still surprised you.

“How’s Yuta, by the way?” Johnny asked you before he left you to your own devices. You brought out your calculator and reading glasses, already focusing on your task at hand.

“He’s fine, I think. I haven’t spoken to him since I left Mars,” you replied blankly. Johnny nodded, seeming content with this news before he stepped out of the office and left you alone. You did miss the fox man’s presence. You found him annoying sometimes, but other times, you found him comforting and kind- you liked speaking with him. 

Speaking with other members of the syndicate was difficult.

The interplanetary ship you were all on made you sick most of the time, and when you did try to be sociable to the two other people on board who were not Sungchan, they often hardly looked your way. Kun, the former accountant and the one currently piloting the ship, hardly says so much as a good morning if you weren’t asking him about previously filed paperwork. Ten, Sungchan’s general syndicate right hand, would only speak to you if he wanted help locating Sungchan.

Sungchan was true to his word when he said you only had to work thirty hours a week, but in the week you were on Mercury to avoid being cornered by the man you often kept yourself busy with overtime. It’s not like you had nothing to do- the numbers were a mess and made no sense. But, being alone with Sungchan still made you nervous, especially when at night, you would hear him and Ten having to deal with some potential traitors or snitches.

It was your last night in Mercury, and you shut the binder on your last updated financial information for the Mercurio Beer Garden. Most of the papers Johnny had shown you were next to useless and you ended up spending several hours shredding paperwork. The office was much more organized, and you were hoping that when you passed by next quarter, Johnny would properly maintain the information in the format and… style you had.

There was a knock at the door and you absentmindedly told them to enter. You had expected it to be Johnny or possibly even Sungchan.

“Working hard, or hardly working, angel?” the stupid nickname had you pause. You glanced up from the chair, blinking quickly to confirm that it was, indeed, Yuta.

“What are you doing here?” you laughed, hoping the smile you wore would offset any potential bite your question held. Yuta was dressed in a more casual manner with a designer long sleeve and sweatpants to still indicate his wealth.

“Johnny asked me to pass by Mercury for the weekend,” he moved and set himself on the chair in front of you, whistling as he examined the state of the office. “How did you manage to clean this up?

You two spoke casually for a few minutes. The club was doing well, he said, and that Jisung had picked up the slack surprisingly quickly.

“Oh, and we’re still monitoring your apartment. Not 24/7 but enough.”

“No updates on the robbers?” you asked, holding out a bit of hope that you’d get your money and painting back. Yuta shook his head, looking away in shame. “That’s all right I guess… I just want my grandpa’s painting back.”

“... I promise I’ll get it back,” Yuta affirmed, his eyes rounded as he looked at you with a seriousness that took you by surprise.

You shrugged. “At least I still have his apartment.”

You spoke for a few minutes smiling and leaning over your desk as you did so.

“Can I try something?” he asked suddenly, and you raised a curious eyebrow.

“I guess,” you went to reach for one of the binders, assuming that’s what he meant. His hand steadied under your chin, and your eyes widened in shock before the softness of his lips met yours. It took you by surprise, and you didn’t have much time to register it before he moved away from you just as quickly. Your mouth was agape in confusion, and Yuta chuckled at your expression.

There was a knock at the door, and in bursted a chuckling Johnny who didn’t seem to notice the tension in the air.

“Yooo, man you have to come out here! Ten and Kun’s game of darts is getting intense!” Johnny cheered, shooting you a small smile. “Leave the little lady to finish cleaning the books.”

“Yeah, I’ll be out there soon,” Yuta nodded. Johnny left the two of you alone with a shut door, and you watched as Yuta took a blank sticky note from the desk, snatching the pen in your hand to scribble something down. “If you ever need me for anything,” he set the pen back down, “call me, and I’ll be there.”

He moved towards the door before he turned back to you, “I would have beaten myself if I didn’t try that at least once. So, thanks.”

Quickly, and without thinking, you grabbed Yuta’s hand to stop him. He paused, looking back at you with surprise. Hesitating, you leaned over the desk, and met your lips to his again, this time fully kissing the man you had been thinking about non-stop for the past few months.

His lips were just as soft as you had hoped they would be, and he kissed you back without hesitancy, his hands cradling your face. He broke from the kiss, his forehead leaning against yours as his breath fanned over your lips.

“I gotta go before you get me into trouble, angel.”

******

You hated Mercury and Venus. Maybe it was the fact that on each planet you spent hours sifting through wordless, senseless documents that barely helped you in fixing the syndicates books. Maybe it was the fact that one room over in every hotel room you had to hear Sungchan or Ten “taking care of problems” that happened to crop up on both planets. Or, and this was what you figured was most likely the issue, was that intersolar traveling always got you sick.

Hunched over the toilet on the ship, you vomited out the contents of your stomach. Sungchan let Ten take a break from managing dinner for the night, and decided to cook everyone's steaks. It was surprisingly good, but no matter how good the food has been, your stomach has refused to hold any food while flying between planets. 

“Fuck me,” you muttered, crumbling back down to the floor, your back pressed against the metal bathroom wall. There was a slight shift in the air, and you opened your eyes to see Sungchan standing at the open door of the bathroom, holding on to a towel and a small bottle.

He looked up as if in thought, “maybe not right now, but later.”

You would be snippy if not for the fact that you felt like such utter shit. Sungchan sighed and sat next to you, offering you the towel. This was not the first time he had seen you hunched over the toilet. Everytime you found yourself sick from the centripetal force of the ship, Sungchan seemed to also find himself next to you with a towel and an awkward attempt to comfort you.

Blowing your nose on the towel, you noted the pill bottle in the man’s hand.

“What’s that?” you asked, coughing. The burn in your throat wasn’t helped by the throbbing in your head.

“Ah, Jaemin finally got his hands on some proper nausea medication,” Sungchan paused, seeing the furrow in your brows, “Jaemin is our medic.”

“Ah.”

“One of the possible side effects is sleep walking, though.”

“If it keeps my stomach inside my body for one more day, I don’t care,” you reached your hand out to grab the pill bottle, only for Sungchan to pull his hand away, keeping it out of reach. “Please?”

“It’s not wise for you to sleepwalk around a ship in outer space. You’re staying in my room tonight so I can at least keep an eye on you.”

“I am not sleeping with you,” you hissed before your stomach turned again, knocking you back over the toilet bowl. Sungchan’s hand was placed on your lower back, sending a chill down your spine despite the bile coming out of you.

The interplanetary spaceship had two levels. The bottom level had the kitchen, tiny living space, and meeting room. The top level contained the hanger bay for the smaller ships as well as a mediocre living quarters. 

There was a small shuffling of footsteps and you looked up from the toilet, your eyes stinging as you saw Ten glaring at you from the doorframe. He was a high level member of the syndicate and besides managing the food on the ship, when he was on land he served as the ears of the group, you learned. Ten’s head was tilted down at you, the shadows of the dim bathroom lighting making his ram horns look more eerie than usual. 

“Listen, I know you still aren’t used to interplanetary travel, but this is our only toilet and I have to take a shit.”

The mucus covered towel in your hand vanished and in a moment was tossed at Ten’s annoyed face. 

“Fuck off,” Sungchan muttered, leading to a disgruntled Ten.

“Fine, I’ll take a dump in the bucket- again. We’ll just have Kun manage yet another interplanetary sanitation fine,” Ten shuffled away from the bathroom, his feet echoing against the metal.

Sungchan turned his head back towards you, his hand shaking the pill bottle. “I’m not sleeping with you,” you repeated.

“You’ll be on the bed, I’ll be on the couch. I’m a gentleman.”

“You beat the shit out of a frontdoorsman for pronouncing your name wrong.”

“Do you want to stop throwing up or not?”

You curled up in the smallest corner of the large bed, your back to the open window. You hated looking out at the stars and seeing where you all stood in the empty void of a universe. You hated everything. You were miserable. Just two more planets to go and you’d be back on Mars, closer to getting that stupid deed.

“How’s your stomach?” Sungchan asked, breaking you from your train of thought. You glanced over. He was laying on his back with his arms tucked under the back of his head, his body visibly too long for the couch as his legs dangled off the arm.

“It’s… fine. Look,” you sighed, annoyed by your conscience, “let me take the couch. Or let me be in my own room.”

“You wish,” Sungchan chuckled, staring up at the ceiling. Sungchan was typically aggressive and irritable with even the highest members of the syndicate, yet with you, he was nothing less than doting to an unfortunately obsessive degree. He was difficult to read. “I’d kill Jaemin if you sleep-walked out of this ship.”

“I believe you. But you don’t even fit on the couch,” you noted. Sungchan wagged his toes, still chuckling to himself. “I’ll be fine.”

“I can fight, if you try anything.”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

“Good night, Sungchan.”

******

You were in love with Titan- or more specifically, Titan’s city of Jikanopolis. Titan was a moon of Saturn that humanity had managed to properly colonize. The buildings weren’t soaring like the ones in Paris-York, and the public transportation was better than what Neuvo Seoul offered. You loved the patches of greenery shoved into as many corners of the city as possible. You didn’t even mind the fact that technically the entire city was located under a ginormous greenhouse dome.

Sungchan noticed your sudden change of mood that first evening on the planet. You decided to have dinner in the patio of the bar the syndicate owned rather than staying holed up in the office as you had chosen to do these past few weeks at the other establishments. The night air was crisp, and while there were other patrons on the outside patio, you didn’t mind as you stared up at the deep golden night sky.

119 Bar and restaurant was at the heart of Jikanopolis on a gorgeous rooftop that overlooked the city. The Mercurio Beer Garden was high brow and certainly fancy- but the view and energy of 119 was miles ahead of anything on Mercury. 

“You look happy,” Sungchan stated, his blazer strung over his shoulders. You shrugged, looking back down at your nearly empty plate. Even the syndicate members of 119 were completely different from their other counterparts throughout the Solar system- all kind, boisterous, and easy going. Wonbin, the chef at 119, instead of greeting you casually, asked what your favorite meal was. Hours later, when you had originally planned to step out to grab take out, the man had fully prepared the meal for you, smiling brightly when he saw the joy on your face. 

Sungchan stood out like a sore thumb here in Titan.

“It’s… nice here,” you decided to reply, glancing back up. Sungchan removed his blazer, hanging it on the plastic chair in front of you at the table before he sat himself down. He leaned his elbows on the table, staring intently at the plate you were still working on. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and while he seemed to zone out, you fully stole a glance at his dragon tattoo. Having to be around quite a few syndicate members these past few weeks, you’ve seen how they all distinguish themselves in their rankings. Yuta, Ten and Johnny were the only members you had seen with black ink for their dragons, small lines of red accenting the mouth. Jisung and a few lower level members had blue ink used as the primary colors on their tattoos. A few mid level members like Kun and even Wonbin’s tattoos were a blend of red with green accents.

Sungchan was the only member you saw with his tattoo to be made up only of one color- red.

“My eyes are up here,” Sungchan waved his hand in front of your face, and you blinked quickly in embarrassment. “Saturn, god what a bastard.”

“Huh?” you raised your eyebrow. You weren’t sure why you bothered humoring him- Sungchan randomly speaking cryptically around you was something you should be used to by now. 

“Sometimes I just think about the namesake of the planets… humanity named them after their roman counterparts, not even their Greek counterparts.”

You mulled over this, “Mars just has a better ring to it than Ares.”

“Jupiter has a better ring to it than Zeus I guess,” he hummed, and you physically felt a chill rush down your spine. “Are you cold?”

“I’m fine,” you replied briskly. “Saturn… which God is that one?”

Sungchan let out a deep sigh, leaning back on his chair and staring back up at the night sky. “He was the Dad of Jupiter, Neptune, Pluto, Vesta, Ceres, and Juno. God of time, generation, dissolution, wealth, liberation… he ate up all his kids except for the youngest one,-.”

“Jupiter,” you finished, meeting his gaze. He nodded. “I guess that makes sense as to why Saturn’s moon is named Titan.”

“I think you know the rest of that myth.”

“Yeah yeah yeah- Saturn ate a rock that his wife gave him, Jupiter kicked his ass and everyone lived happily ever after.”

Sungchan cracked a smile, his eyes not leaving yours. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“Here’s that drink you wanted, Sungchan,” one of the staff members approached, his nodding at you as they set down the alcohol he seemed to have asked to be sent there.

You looked back up at the night sky. The light pollution of the city was so minimal compared to the other planets you visited, that you were able to clearly make out stars and the planet of Saturn from where you sat. You hadn’t been able to enjoy the view of them so much on the ship on account of you trying to not throw up from motion sickness, but being able to see them from here from the comfort of a moon made you smile. A genuine smile you hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages.

“You love Titan, don’t you?” Sungchan’s voice was calm, and when you looked back at him for a moment, it seemed like a pained expression flashed on his face before being replaced with his usual stillness. 

“I think so,” you admitted, looking back up, “the stars are just so lovely from here.”

“You do look quite lovely, even if it’s on Titan,” Sungchan grumbled. 

******

You and Ten were the only ones at the hotel for a while that night.

Sungchan and Kun had stayed behind at 119, and you decided to watch the large TV in the living room for the time being. You were half listening to the TV, half glancing out at the window behind the TV, taking in the night sky in the comfort of your PJs. There was a shift on the couch, and you looked over to see Ten, frowning at the screen.

“Why are you watching the news?” he judged, crossing his legs on the couch to get comfortable.

You shrugged, “I guess I just wanted to see what goes on around here.”

“It’s Titan, it’s like, the lamest place in the solar system.”

“Mercury was pretty lame,” you countered. The news channel was a local one, discussing fun activities occurring in the area over the upcoming weekend- simple. You loved it.

“Oh please,” Ten leaned forward, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “Titan does have one good thing I’ll admit,” he flipped through a few channels before settling on a grainy film, “this channel only runs on this planet due to some weird copyright law. It’s all the old movies and shows from earth that managed to survive time.”

Your eyes focused on the screen, listening to the over exaggerated voices, the awkward laugh track, and the fascinating dynamic between the wife character and her husband.

“How did you even find this?” you asked, settling in on the couch now.

“Yuta talks about it all the time, he’s from Jikanopolis,” Ten answered before laughing along with the cheesy punchline. 

You had been tempted to call the fox-man several times since getting his phone number, but each time you began to write the number out on your phone, you’d panic and clear it out. You tried and failed to get the feeling of his lips on yours out of your mind to no avail.

Titan. Maybe you could start the conversation about his home? You frowned at yourself, feeling embarrassed about your overthinking.

“What? You don’t like I love Lucy?” Ten snapped.

“Huh?”

“This show, you don’t like this show.”

“I wasn’t paying attention,” you admitted.

Ten then chuckled, “I mentioned Yuta and you immediately zoned out.”

You scoffed, “I’m just tired- your organization has horrible management when it comes to its paperwork.”

Ten was about to reply back with something witty before the hotel door opened. You two turned around on the couch, watching a chuckling, close-eyed Sungchan leaning on an annoyed Kun.

“Ten, help,” Kun grunted, struggling to handle the taller man who was muttering incoherently. Kun set his hand on Sungchan’s horns that were blocking his vision, pushing the young man’s head to lean forward instead of on Kun’s own shoulder, squishing Kun’s swan wings in the process.

“Mmm…Mhhh,” Sungchan muttered, his eyes struggling to open. “More… beer.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sure buddy,” Ten sighed, leaping over the back of the couch to help Kun guide their boss into his room. “How did you manage to be the one to lead us again?”

“Kick… Kicked his ass,” Sungchan giggled, smiling an infectious smile that made even Kun’s lips twitch.

“Sure, man. Let’s get you to bed,” Kun and Ten started through the foyer, half carrying, half guiding him to his room. 

Besides some small shuffling, you didn’t hear much else as the duo got Sungchan into his bed. In the moment that they were in Sungchan’s room,you quietly moved into your own room, shutting the door silently as you did.

As tired as you were from interplanetary travel, you found yourself sitting in front of the floor to ceiling window in your room, staring out at the night sky again. The stars twinkled brighter here. The planet felt more complete than any of the other ones you visited. Even though in the sky you would catch glimpses of other ships, it never bothered you to see them like they would on Mars.

You felt like you were in a daze as you stared at the stars and the passing ships. Drunk by the soft sky and dazzling flecks of light. 

“I thought you’d be sleeping,” his softened voice surprised you. You stood up quickly, stunned to see Sungchan looking at you solemnly, his gaze illuminated solely by the light bouncing off of Saturn onto the planet.

“I thought you’d be sleeping,” you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady. Sungchan had shut and locked your bedroom door when he entered, this much you could tell from where you stood. He had his blazer slung over his shoulder and wings, his hooded eyes watching you closely. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you,” he pouted, tossing the blazer onto your bed.

You glared at the loose garment before looking back, “you should get back to sleep.”

Sungchan burped before he replied, “dance with me.”

“Wha-?” Before you could properly be confused, Sungchan closed the small steps between the two of you, wrapping you in his embrace and moving to guide you. “Let go of me,” you sighed, trying to push off of his chest.

“Humor me,” he whispered, resting a hand on the top of your head. You hesitated, before moving your arms awkwardly to your side, allowing Sungchan to sway your stiff body side to side. You inhaled carefully, afraid of moving too much and Sungchan retaliating in some way. Instead, the stupor you felt while staring at the night sky seemed to return in full force, as his ambrosial scent filled your lungs. 

You had been so close to Sungchan that you noticed his smell, but as you instinctually wrapped your arms around him (stopping at his wings) you found yourself enraptured in thoughts of him. Imagining you and Sungchan running through fields like the ones in your dream, sitting in libraries and sharing wistful gazes, wrapped endlessly in each other's arms.

You tilted your head upwards at Sungchan in an odd attempt to stifle the sudden yearning that flooded your system. His eyes were half shut, a sad smirk on his face.

“Dance with me,” he repeated, his voice now hardly above a whisper.

“There’s no music, and I have two left feet,” your voice surprised you. You were staring so deeply into the young man’s eyes, it was a wonder to you that you even managed to utter any coherent sounds, let alone an actual response.

“You’ll be just fine,” and with that, he swiftly laced his fingers through your own, guiding you. “This is a waltz,” he explained. It was strange, at his note, you found yourself almost perfectly matching his footing and hand coordination.

You chuckled at the absurdity, “I guess I’m a natural.”

“You always were,” he sighed, spinning you quickly before you faced each other again. The silent song that only Sungchan seemed to hear was enchanting to you, as you stared up at the tipsy man and matched his movements.

“You haven’t known me for long,” you pointed.

“I’ve known you for much, much longer than you think,” he continued leading the dance despite his eyes training so intently on you. 

Sungchan had stopped the dance, holding you tightly to him in a suffocating hug. Again, your brain went to different fantasies with Sungchan, each more surreal than the last: the two of you on earth at a bar, the two of you on earth riding bikes, the two of you on earth riding horses. You buried your nose in his shirt, earning a chuckle from him as you tried to get to the root of these invasive fantasies.

“You’d think you were the tipsy one,” Sungchan’s voice vibrated through his chest and against your face. His hand brushed against your neck, sending a chill down your spine as his fingers then trailed along your jaw, moving to tilt your chin upwards to meet his gaze. “What’s on your mind?”

Am I drunk? What the hell is wrong with me? Your brain was fighting itself as you stared up at the young syndicate leader. You had felt nearly nothing but contempt and fear of him, yet, despite him waltzing into your room announced, you felt hypnotized by just the thought of him. Being near him now, you felt your knees shake as his thumb grazed your bottom lip.

“I should leave,” he muttered, although he made no moves to do so.

Shamefully, you knew how he must see you in this moment- vulnerable, wide-eyed- and you relished in this. Sungchan had been doting on you without reason since the first time you met him, and now, in the silence in the penthouse on Titan, you saw briefly what everyone else actively saw- the head of a crime organization looking down at his prey.

You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat, and raised your own hand to hold up the one he had under your chin. His thumb stopped its circular motions of your bottom lip, and Sungchan stared with open eyes as you slowly parted your lips, sinking his thumb into your mouth and onto your tongue.

Even in the dim lighting you watched his pupils dilate, his entire body tense in surprise as your tongue swirled his thumb in your mouth.

“What are you doing to me?” He didn't seem to expect an answer, rather choosing to watch you with great intrigue as you released his thumb, moving to then insert his pointer and middle digits into your mouth instead. 

Taking in Sungchan’s euphoric aroma was one thing, but it was another to have a piece of him dancing on your tongue. He had stopped passively letting you maneuver as he did before, and had his fingers instead grace themselves however he saw fit in your mouth, pulling them out slowly afterwards in awe.

Sungchan brought his fingers back to his own lips, his eyes meeting yours as his other arm tightened its grip on your waist, keeping you as close as possible to him as he took in every bit of your saliva from his fingers to blend with his.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed,” he whispered, his now drenched fingers moving to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

You motioned to speak, before Sungchan’s eyes shut, his entire body slumping over your shoulder. You let out a small yelp, realizing that the literal head of the syndicate seemed to just… pass out on your shoulder. 

The heat on your cheeks and between your legs made you let out a frustrated groan as you struggled to move the man off of you. He was tall, firm, and was fully putting his entire weight on your body. 

“Shit!” you muttered, crumbling to the floor with the man on top of you, snoring loudly as his wings acted as a makeshift cage around your body. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you whispered.

You poked at the man's cheek in an attempt to wake him, only making him cuddle into your crushed figure as he muttered nonsense. 

“Terra… I’ll let you go… Terra.”

*****

It was 1999, and Sungchan pounded another vodka shot. He had been invited to yet another New Years Eve Party, and after having to endure hundreds of them in different mortal bodies, he had gotten tired of them. The only good thing about being twenty-two yet again, was that he still hadn’t grown a proper tolerance to alcohol. When you were all originally cursed, it was stipulated that he would be the only one to retain all of his memories, making sure that even when he was reborn, his infant brain would still remember who he truly was, and further torture him with the mind of a God, in the body of a useless mortal body.

It was 1999, and the humans around him at this shitty house were partying like it was the end of the world. Venus slung his arm over Sungchan’s shoulder, howling with joy at the sight of the younger man’s two empty vodka shots in his hands.

“It was just vodka, Johnny,” Sungchan sighed, waiting patiently to feel the familiar buzz. He still hadn’t encountered you in this lifetime, and while he was overjoyed to know that you were still alive (that this curse could be broken), he wasn’t holding his breath. So, he drank.

“Remember when a sip of beer had you on your ass? Little Bambi is all grown up!” Johnny fake cried, earning the attention of their nearby fraternity brother. Sungchan had joined a few in different lifetimes, and he figured he’d collect as many collegiate letters as possible- like a fun game for his miserable existence.

“Uh uh! He’s not a freshman anymore- can’t call him Bambi!” Pluto slurred, earning a laugh from Johnny.

“I don’t mind being called Bambi,” Sungchan sighed, glancing over his shoulder once a round of hollers were heard from the party crowd behind them. The party was at the fraternity house and the trio stood near the foyer, so Sungchan was staring up in awe as he saw you on the stairs making out with Mars. “Oh my Gods.”

Yuta furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, and craned his own neck upwards to chuckle, “oh yeah, that Jaemin’s ‘best friend’.”

“I knew they’d fuck eventually,” Johnny took another sip of his drink, “he kept swearing they were just childhood pals but.. I mean- that tension is insane.”

Sungchan was staring up at you two without any shame, his mouth hanging open as he fought every urge to rip Jaemin off of you and whisk you away.

“You’re gonna catch flies,” Yuta teased before manually shutting Sungchan’s jaw. Sungchan sent a glare to Yuta, earning a collected laugh from the pair. 

For the rest of the party, Sungchan hovered nearby, forcing casual conversation with other fraternity members or party goers around him to not look suspicious, and hoping that Jaemin would leave you alone long enough for Sungchan to speak to you… just once. 

You could break the curse this time. He knew it. You just needed a push.

“... have to grab something,” Sungchan’s ears perked up at Jaemin telling you this. He couldn’t hear your reply over the blasting music, but he could hear your small voice whine. Sungchan covered his mouth, fighting the small smile he found wanting to cross his lips- you were just so cute. From the corner of his eye, Jaemin passed Sungchan, and he quickly took this as his cue to pass through the string of people blocking his path in the hallway, landing directly in front of this new version of you. Before you could respond, Sungchan handed you a soda can of your favorite soda.

“Uh… thank you? How did you even guess that this was my favorite soda?” you cautiously took the drink from his hands, leaning against the wall as you popped the can open.

“Lucky guess. So, what guy left you alone here?” Sungchan knew better than to tell you that he knew everything about you- your favorite drinks, your favorite flowers, the type of books you liked to read, your favorite places to be touched. He’s tried that before- and it never went well.

“Jaemin- but he’s gonna be right back,” you added quickly, your lip tugging in the way it did when you were unsure about something.

“That’s a shame.”

“How so?” you were curious, furrowing your brow as you sipped on the soda that had gotten warm from Sungchan hanging onto it for so long.

“Well, if it were me, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight.”

You scoffed, but he caught the small blush forming on your ears. “You’re Sungchan, right?”

This caught Sungchan off guard. While he had known Jaemin for about two years now, he had never encountered you- this he would remember.

“I… I’ve seen you in Jaemin’s frat yearbooks,” you seemed embarrassed, and if Sungchan wasn’t holding back he would pinch your cheeks and hold you closely to him. Instead he cleared his throat and looked away, catching Jaemin’s head at the end of the hallway and struggling to maneuver through the throng of people.

“I have a yearbook from the 50s- do you wanna see it?” Sungchan took your small nod as a yes, and gently took your hand, guiding you down the hall and to his bedroom. It was a generally small space and didn’t have much in it beyond stacks of books and a neatly made full sized bed.

“This is the cleanest guys room I’ve ever seen,” you giggled, standing in front of the shut door as the music from downstairs was now muffled.

“I’m not a huge fan of messes,” Sungchan untucked the yearbook from his shelf, sitting on his bed to open it up. He glanced up at you, watching you hesitate. “You can stay standing, but I’m not gonna touch you or anything you don’t want.”

This seemed to quell your nerves as you sat next Sungchan, the bed creaking slightly at the new weight. He quietly flipped through the yearbook, and landed on the page he thought you’d like.

“Gosh those football uniforms were so terrible,” you giggled, leaning so closely to Sungchan that he stopped breathing. He could feel your breath fanning over his arm, your heat radiating off of you, and his mind nearly started spinning. Your hand then brushed over his as you turned the page over, gushing over the sweethearts page.

“I bet most of these people's kids are in this frat now,” you noted, your fingers tracing the hearts over the page.

“I think Jaemin’s one of them,” Sungchan noted, looking up to meet your gaze. This seemed to strike something in you, and you pressed your lips tightly together. Sungchan tilted his head, “did I say something wrong?”

“No… No. Um- did you see us…” your voice trailed off, looking away from Sungchan as you tried to piece something together.

“You guys making out for everyone to see? Yeah,” Sungchan chuckled despite the fire this caused in his chest. You scratched the back of your neck, sighing as if you were defeated.

“Can I… tell you something?” You asked, and Sungchan nodded, closing the yearbook. “I know you don’t know me-,” Sungchan held back a snort, “but… I've wanted to kiss Jaemin for years but… it didn’t feel as right as I hoped it would.”

Sungchan whistled, knowing that this was a very heavy topic to you. “That sounds rough. Maybe you should kiss someone else and compare?” Sungchan made sure it sounded like a joke, and you giggled, slightly punching his arm.

“All of you guys have been telling us to get together for years, so I doubt anyone here would-.”

“I would,” Sungchan cut you off, this took you aback, and you both looked towards the door as the music was cut off. “They’re probably gonna start the countdown soon,” he slid the yearbook under his bed, intending to stand up then until you grabbed his wrist.

“... have we met before?”

Sungchan froze, and sputtered out, “not in this lifetime.”

You laughed then, Sungchan’s favorite sound he mentally noted as he admired you.

“Kiss me,” this boldness surprised Sungchan, and while he didn’t smell any alcohol on  your breath he still asked. “Gosh, just be a normal frat guy and kiss me,” you taunted, hooking your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his. 

Sungchan wrapped his arms around you, laying you down on his bed and earning a small gasp from your lips. You were addictive, Sungchan’s head was swimming as he swiped his tongue into your mouth, taking him deeper into full ecstasy as he tasted more of you. 

He knew this feeling. He knows it too well. He couldn’t stand it- he could fight it.

Your hands trailed from his face slowly moving past his chest and moving towards his waistband. This woke Sungchan up, and he jumped off you, accidentally rolling off of his own bed and landing on his back.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” you moved to the edge of the bed, worry striking your features as you studied Sungchan’s dazed expression. Sungchan swallowed deeply, looking up at you as the same feeling that took your life over and over again began to cloud his judgment.

“Kill me,” his voice was so quiet that you didn’t even hear him.

“Come again?” you asked, leaning closer to the edge of the bed. 

Sungchan leaned himself up on his elbows and your noses brushed against each other before he repeated, “kill. Me.”

You laughed, thinking he was making some weird joke.

“Falling off a bed is embarrassing but not enough for you to die over it,” you chuckled, reaching out and lightly tapping his shoulder. You glanced back at the door, sighing, “we should probably go and join for the countdown.”

Darkness. Sungchan’s senses all vanished again, the same way it had all these past times. He was trapped, truly, for whoever knows how long. He was in the darkness.

His sense of touch came back first and he immediately recoiled, his hands coated in something warm, his knees to the ground. There was a burning along his arms and neck, and he knew they were scratch marks. Then, his sense of smell returned, the reek of blood swarming and overwhelming his senses along with the saltiness of the tears streaming down his face. His hearing followed then, the silence in the room and the countdown starting from ten downstairs already confirming what his vision did shortly thereafter.

Your body had been yanked down from the bed, and your throat sliced by Sungchan’s broken lamp shards. Sungchan sobbed quietly, lifting your dead body to his chest in agony at having to see you dead, again, in his arms, by his own hands.

CHAPTER FOUR: SLEEPING BEAST

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