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chronicvagabonds · 1 year ago

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Imagine laying in bed procrastinating and just out of curiosity checking out one of your favorite writers' page just in time for them to release a new fic?? Coincidentally and funnily enough, I was procrastinating on studying for my law final lmao SO I'm just going to convince myself that reading this thriller/crime fic (when I should have been studying) was actually productive!! yepyepyep

I actually opened a new word doc so I could annotate as I was reading so the following will be my attempt at somehow deciphering my own keysmashing and allcapsing from last night..

Before I could even dig into the story, I was already losing it at the moodboard and description bc kisjsljsjslks i am in love, i love me some visual aesthetic and the moodboard really brought in the color contrast that follows the plot from soft nudes to crude browns but the warmth of orange lighting and almost gives you an oldschool sepia-like movie vibe also is it just me or is your word count gradually increasing with every fic (not that i would ever complain about that)

"he is a serial killer with morals" YUP IM AT THE RIGHT PLACE

Don't move into a stranger's house who makes you barely pay rent in exchange for playing maid and cooking, cleaning for him unless they're a reknown and attractive-looking doctor called jeong yunho, kids. You're going to end up filling his living room with plants and refurniture his house, trying your hardest to make this place a HOME while he ungratefully complains and gruffs to you about it.

I couldn't help but imagine that yunho was constantly rolling his eyes, pinching his nose bridge or rubbing his eyes at reader's antics kjskljjs also him being so flabbergasted by reader being a-okay with upholding his rules and the dedication right off the bat leading to his eventual demise where he wants to throw all his rules and limitations across board but reader remains oblivious kekeke

guilty of being an absolute sucker, the biggest loser and enthusiast for fic!yunho calling reader "tiny" - (adjectively or as petname) idc if it's corny as hell, i will never not kick my feet in the air when i read it, sue me!

YUNHO BEING THE ABSOLUTE SWEETEST TO ELDERLY COUPLE NEIGHBOURS KJSLKSJSJS BIKER YUNHO SKLSJSKJLSKJ ABSOLUTELY WHIPPED FOR ANGY READER LSJLKSJKJS

of course, wooyoung would be the one to completely dismiss the fact that he's clocked in at work to sit down and spill the tea as well as have it served to him, this little shit istg

“I mean… we’re going to the same place, so… I could make an exception this time- like the other exceptions I’m making,” Yunho narrowed his eyes at you. “I will pretend today didn’t happen.”

TUCKING MY HAIR BEHIND MY EAR. BITING MY TONGUE. LASHES FLUTTERING. THE PRINCESS TREATMENT HAS BEGUN!

when i tell you my heart dropped down to my ass and back up my throat when the dinner scene happened and yunho's eyes zero'd in on the knife block, i think i forgot to breathe bc of how uncanny loud yunho is to me, i was sweaaating

reader bringing so much (literal) life into yunho's house, not believing how much feeling at home changed his loathing mood and his behaviour in which he actually started to take care of himself and have meals regularly - brb, second round of crying

oooooooooooo, and when yunho started to compare himself to reader and talking bad of himself, calling himself a monster and corrupted when reader was like an angel and so innocent in his eyes and the GUILT omg the admission of GUILT to be pretending to be someone he wasn't AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!

He looked perfect, and if it weren’t for all the rules that would cost you a living space, you would have crossed a lot of boundaries by now..

YOU AND ME!!! And there was something so fvcking sinister about Yunho insisting that Reader finishes their meal after his outburst. I really didn't feel safe and was dreading that something BAD was going to happen but him just plating the meal.. watching intently as they ate with the knife he murdered with.. you fuvkcing freak, it's so twisted in the best way and i am utterly in love with him

But the way you got excited when you talked in detail about a certain type of wound or method of torture… he often found himself zoning out and simply staring at you while you talked..

if you find a puddle on the floor that's just me, please kindly sweep me to the side

As you finished eating, you asked him what urged him to really bring you here tonight. Yunho looked at you as if to make you reconsider your question but when you held your front, he finally gave in. “Just wanted to say thanks.”

i loveloveloved seeing the amount of times reader caught yunho completely off-guard with how perceptive they were, i was cackling because i could imagine his dumbfound face a bit too well before he could collect himself

“I think you’re getting a little too comfortable with me though…” “Yeah?” You walked towards the bike. “Says the guy who basically took me on a date.”

WHO'S BREAKING WHOSE RULES NOW, HM??? DOCTOR?? JEONG YUNHO?

But when you wore your helmet and settled down behind him, clutching at the sides of his jacket, he held your hands in his and you couldn’t even digest how his big hands engulfed your small ones before he wrapped your arms around his waist.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

Yunho couldn’t take it anymore- he’d heard enough, and the whimper that left you made his vision dark for a moment..

CLAPPING MY HANDS WITH SO MUCH FORCE THE SOUND RESONATES BEYOND THE MILKY WAY!! STANDING OVATION!! FINALLY THE PROTECTIVENESS KICKED IN FULLY KSNLMSLKMS

“How dare you make my girl cry?” [maniacal witch cackling]

“Of course,” you nodded. “No one would like that. You don’t have to explain it to me, Yunho. You don’t have to tell me anything-” “Forget the rules,” he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

I'M BUT JUST A LITTLE FLY BUZZING ITS WINGS AND RUBBING ITS LITTLE HANDS TOGETHER ON THE KITCHEN WALLPAPER PLEASE DO NOT MIND ME GO OOOOOOON!!!

Yunho buried his face in his hands- he couldn’t look at you now. He couldn’t-

THE AGONY! THE WARMTH! THE RED ON HIS EARS! THE HEAT! I CAN PHYSICALLY GRASP IT! MAKE IT STOP OMG LKSJLSJMKM

Also, while we’re talking about that- and yes, I’m rambing, but you really need to stop touching me so casually- I hope you have a rule about that somewhere too-”

i love reader so much man, the way they just throw out the most comical comments during tense moments, i wanna be friends with them lmao

All Yunho wanted was to obey..

YUMI YUMI YUMI UYYUMI KSJKL YUMIII YUMI KLSJSJMGMN IM NOT SANE ENOUGH FOR THAT SENTENCE PLEASEKSLJLS

“Tell me about these books,”

and everything that followed after this? yeah? what else do you need in life, hm? where can i get me one of these?

“I don’t think we’d be doing this if we were ‘just housemates’.” “My point exactly,”

reader asking all the right questions is the most relatable part yet man like yes please, spell it out to me bc i can NOT take the hint ok

“But I have a feeling that you and I aren’t so different, Yunho.”

??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

“I’m afraid…” Yunho confessed in a voice so small you were wondering if you were hearing things. “I’m afraid you’ll run away when you learn who I am.”

wondering if the ateez doctor's office has someone that specializes in heart surgery bc mine just bursted into a million splinters?

SNEAKY ATEEZ DIARY WAREHOUSE HIDEOUT MENTION!!! OH MY LORETINY HEART IS SO HAPPY TT I WIN

“It’s kind of ironic then, that you all are doctors, right?”

i need every teezer to move ASIDE bc i want to be reader's lover now (i am so gay for a fictional char, so help me god)

“Because I love you,” Yunho breathed. “And I couldn’t bear to see that broken look in your eyes.” BAWLING OCEANS

“I think she writes gore to cope,” Yeosang commented. “I’ve been seeing a pattern and- wait, was I not supposed to point that out?” You looked at Mingi for help who looked moments away from bursting into laughter. “You might want to switch your psychiatrist, y/n.”

this being so yeosang coded, i can't stop giggling about it please i am so endeared with him TT and mingi being of no help immediately, i'm losing the will

this was fun trying out, heh. not too sure if writing things cleanly and organized or instead just letting my gremlin brain ramble about fics in response are the preferred method for feedback but i might try and alternate between the two lmao :) trying to fight the insecurity of perceiving someone else's work or possibly interpreting fiction inappropriately, blame anxiety

I feel like I just keep repeating myself whenever I tell you how amazed I am with your writing and how much I love your storytelling, worldbuilding, plot guiding [content sigh] but you really deserve to hear no end to the compliments and praise ever. ♡

p.s. i might have sneakily read what you wrote on your other blog about this and i'm skjslsjmngkn the deleted scene? the idea that this could have been EVEN darker?!?? LKSJSJ;MNS;N

Guerrilla

serialkiller!dr.yunho x writer!reader

he is a serial killer with morals okay almost a vigilante

dni if you're not comfortable with this trope.

genres and warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, violence warnings, atz as doctors cameos, some gory descriptions, twisted morals, past trauma, questionable stuff honestly esp yunho's intrusive thoughts, read at your own risk.

word count: ~27k

synopsis: you're a crime fiction writer and you move in with dr. jeong yunho despite his strange, strict house rules. he's very private and you don't mind that, but he's also very cold and unapproachable and you're determined to crack through his walls. little did you know your obsession with gore and crime would melt his heart. Soon, you find yourself tangled in lies, secrets and a detective from your past who suspects yunho and his gang as you navigate thru your relationship with him.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (i had a dream. we talked about it and this happened-)

“You know, if you could just help me bring my bags inside instead of staring at me like I’m about to commit a homicide, maybe you wouldn’t have to complain about the noise and not being able to focus on… whatever the heck you wanted to do.”

Yunho blinked. Was he hearing you right? When you cocked your head waiting for a response, he licked his suddenly dry lips. “I’m just worried about the amount of bags you’ve brought at this hour of night.”

The ungodly hours after midnight. You tucked your hair behind your ears before dragging one of the heavier bags to your room, the floorboard creaking unceremoniously. You heard the groan of your house owner who finally got up after a solid ten minutes of judging you and went to the porch to pick up a bag-

And almost fell on his knees.

“What the fuck did you put in here?”

“What do you think?” You asked, throwing the bag in your room and going to the porch, snatching the bag and dragging it yourself.

“A body?”

“Or two,” you muttered under your breath and again, Yunho thought he was hearing things. “It’s just my books. I thought I mentioned in the form that I’m an aspiring writer and would be coped up in my room reading or writing most hours of the day. I really won’t bother you much, just help me get my bags inside before the rain gets any worse. I don’t want my books getting ruined.”

Begrudgingly, Yunho obeyed, dragging two bags at once just to show you he wasn’t weak. You, however, did not bat an eye, much to his annoyance. After bringing in the last bags, he stood in your room looking around.

“I’m not sure this room is big enough for your books…”

“Don’t worry, I’ve lived in smaller rooms with more books,” you finally cracked a smile. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Jeong. I thought you’re usually doing night shifts?”

“I had a day off today and planned to sleep, but unfortunately, you disturbed my sleep.”

“You’re welcome,” you weren’t going to let him damper the mood. “Since you’re awake now, might as well tell me any rules about the house so I can finally go fix up a meal for myself. And an apology meal for you, though, as the owner of this house, you should be in the kitchen fixing something for your newly arrived housemate. But… I won’t complain.”

Yunho folded his arms, considering you. There was something about you that didn’t make him want to kill you in the most painful way, which was odd for him. He recalled the last time someone moved in with him and he almost dissected him alive. “Nice to meet you too, y/n. I’m trusting you read the rules before you decided to move in?”

“‘Minimal noise especially during the day, no intervening in each other’s business, an absolute no to bringing over people even if they are your family- if you have to, on a three-days notice, and… no getting to know each other. The workshop in the garage and the upper floor is off-limits.’ I believe I got them right?”

“You have an exceptional memory,” Yunho was impressed for once. “Why did you move here?”

“I’m sure you read my response in your form too, but to put it simply, I can’t afford a nicer place, though I’m curious why a doctor is living in such a dodgy little house in a shady town-”

“I, too, need to make ends meet,” Yunho explained even though he could have easily ignored your question. “Circumstances. Besides, I get a whole house instead of a cramped apartment in the city, and my workplace is close.”

“I know! Cramped apartments are suffocating. Even though I’ll only own a room here and share the floor, at least it’s a… house.”

Yunho nodded. “I’ll give you three days to settle down and break any rules except the ones mentioned in the form. Now, I understand that you can cook?”

“Always been a good cook,” you said proudly.

“We can share the kitchen expenses and if you cook enough for the both of us, I can take 40 percent off your rent. Fair offer, isn’t it?”

“Peculiar is what it is,” you told him. “But I won’t question you. If I have to cook, might as well for the both of us. Saves me money in the long run, and I need to save every penny I can.”

“Right. There are a few cabinets locked in the kitchen, please don’t try to open them. I can’t think of any other rules right now, but try to keep it down, will you? And again, the upper floor is absolutely off-limits.”

“Got it,” you nodded. “Let me know your usual schedule so I don’t think there’s a serial killer entering my apartment in the middle of the night.”

Once again, Yunho had to stop himself from twitching in surprise. “What’s your obsession with serial killers and murders? You’ve mentioned them numerous times in the past half an hour.”

“I think the rules go both ways, Dr. Jeong Yunho,” you smiled teasingly, opening one of the bags and taking a deep breath at the amount of books in it. “But if you have to know… my genres are crime fiction and mystery. I hope I don’t scare you away, especially if I ask you something odd about human anatomy.”

Yunho almost gaped at you before shaking his head and exiting your room, absolutely unnerved by you in a mere half an hour. It was crazy- usually, he was the one making people feel alarmed or discomposed, but you were an odd one for sure. However, as with every past housemate, he was sure you were going to get on his nerves and he would have to either bury your bones in the backyard- consequently breaking the ‘code’- or plan something elaborate and chase you out.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to be a pleasant person to share the house with. But when he opened the door at about 1am to a distraught looking girl that didn’t even reach his shoulders carrying six bags, some bigger than her… he wondered if he should kick you right out and remove the ad he had put in on a few websites looking for a ‘peaceful’ housemate. He was sure you must have some thoughts about him too- he wasn’t the most welcoming person and people would eventually get curious about his closed-off personality and start snooping around.

For now, Yunho peeked into your room from the stairs- you had your hands on your hips and were assessing the room, probably planning how you could fit everything in there. He checked the time- he needed to leave soon. Praying silently that you would just fall asleep or something instead of snooping around, he went to his room to get ready.

You, though, had no plans to sleep tonight. You needed to set your room and get some sleep so you could meet the deadline of your draft that was due this weekend- only three days away. You assessed the space in the room again- if you could move the bed to the corner, you could place your computer table and chair there which would be arriving in the morning. You could line the books along the rest of the walls on the floor. You didn’t need any fancy shelves. Thankfully, this room had its own closet so you wouldn’t need to worry about where to fit your clothes.

You exited the room into the living room space, wanting to get the bearings of this house. The toilet was right in front of your room and one of the reasons you moved into this dodgy house was that it was… a good house. A toilet all to yourself was a blessing, and upon checking it looked clean.

The living room wasn’t too big but it looked cosy. You noticed a lack of personal belongings and decided to add a few potted plants on the windows soon. There was no TV but you had a projector and if you moved the couch, you could have a whole plain wall which was perfect to watch dramas when Yunho would be away. The kitchen space was at the opposite end with a large countertop in between and it looked like Yunho had most of the kitchen appliances already.

And at the end where the main door was, there were stairs leading up to the doctor’s space. Off-limits. You wondered why he was so uptight but you figured that as long as he was letting you live almost for free in return for home-cooked meals and maintaining the house, you could tolerate him. It was strange if you thought about it but you didn’t have the luxury to overthink right now.

You finally had a place- better than an apartment, yet something you could afford. You found yourself smiling. You just need to meet your deadlines now and hopefully publish your book by the end of the year- before the publishers change their mind.

But first… coffee.

You went to your room to get the bottle of your favourite coffee blend, which was really a mixture from a few different brands that you had come up with after years of experimentation. You set two cups on the counter and checked the fridge for milk. You weren’t sure about the doctor’s preferences so you made a simple latte like your own. You were just finishing up when you heard the dull footsteps of him descending the stairs.

“I made coffee…” you trailed off- now that he was in a white button down and black slacks with his hair styled, it finally settled in.

Doctor Jeong Yunho was pretty damn attractive.

“Uh…” he looked around awkwardly before grabbing the mug and taking a sip, raising his brows in surprise. “This… is actually pretty good.”

You grinned. “My own blend.”

He made an impressed face and you took that opportunity to ask. “You don’t mind if I make a few changes to this floor, right? Nothing major, just a few plants here and there, maybe get a chair or two, move the furniture around to make space for the projector?”

“Isn’t it too early for that?” Yunho frowned. “I might kick you out before that. Or you might end up leaving-”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” you dismissed. “What I mean is, I’m staying out of your way so you would have no reason to kick me out because I really, really cannot get a better deal than I got with you.”

“Sure, then,” he finished his coffee. “Do whatever you like as long as you stick to the rules. I’ll be on my way then.”

You relaxed, mind already buzzing with ideas as you headed towards your room to fix your draft.

—-------------------------------

The trial period Yunho had given you was over and you were now seated in the kitchen with your third cup of coffee since midnight, awaiting your judgement.

Really, you were telling yourself that you shouldn’t worry. If you had to be your own judge, you had done a spectacular job of staying out of the doctor’s way except when unavoidable- which was usually right before he left for work around midnight when you would both eat dinner, or his usual shift in the later hours of morning. He insisted that he was fine eating alone and you didn’t have to wait for him to eat your own dinner, and yes, he sounded like he could be anywhere but there, but you told him that if you were cooking for him, you’d rather he eat at least one meal with you. For what reason, you didn’t give and he didn’t ask.

You didn’t give because you may be a self-proclaimed good cook but you were also someone who was sensitive. And that meant that if Yunho didn’t like something you cooked, you would be ready to take constructive criticism and improve.

And he didn’t ask because he could see that you were a sensitive one. He knew the moment he told you off for filling the house with potted plants within one day and you almost teared up asking if he didn’t like the signs of life around the house. He actually almost laughed at that but when he realised you were serious, he told you he wouldn’t take care of the plants. You told him you wouldn’t expect him to because the plants were ‘your babies’ and had moved two houses with you already.

So yes, you stayed out of his way. You cooked for him. You cleaned the house quite a bit- so much that Yunho almost didn’t recognise his own porch because of how different it looked in the span of a few hours that he was absent from the house. He made a point of telling you right after that your trial period wasn’t up, and you made a point of retorting with how you were just waiting for him to give in, to which you earned a scowl. By now, you knew that the doctor was not very friendly- at least not immediately. You wondered if that was the reason why he had troubles with his past housemates.

When you heard the sound of keys jingling and the door unlocking, you straightened and started heating up the dinner- you kept it traditional today- rice, beef and a lot of side dishes. Perhaps, it was your last attempt to win him over, and your heart was beating loudly with anticipation. You never waited for him to come home and share a meal in the early hours of morning but today, you made an exception. You turned around to greet him-

Finding his clothes stained with what had to be blood. His hair was all messed up as well and he had a bruise on his cheek. You exhaled. “Looks like somebody had a long night shift.”

“What are you doing this early in the morning?” He took off his shoes that you noticed were quite muddy. It hadn’t rained in a few days so you briefly wondered where he had been, but you shook your head.

No questions asked. That was the rule.

“Prepared breakfast? For you,” you scratched your suddenly itchy neck. “For obvious reasons. Last attempt to bribe you before you announce your decision.”

Yunho scanned you for a few moments before he said, “I should change first.”

“Of course,” you nodded. “I’ll set the table in the meantime.”

Yunho nodded and went upstairs, going to the room at the end of the hallway and dumping his shirt and trousers in the washing machine, turning it on. He needed to get rid of the blood as soon as possible and detergent wouldn’t be enough so he grabbed a soap and rubbed the stains on his shirt for good measure- now, the clothes would wash themselves.

It was almost a mechanical routine now, he scoffed at how his hands worked on their own now. He went to his room, unlocking it and changing into sweats. Usually, he didn’t eat much before sleeping- after all, due to his night shifts, he slept for most hours of the day and breakfast wasn’t something he cared about, but the smell of beef was making his stomach rumble. He figured he could make an exception today.

By the time he joined you at the table, there were a variety of dishes in front of him and he raised a brow at you. “You really went all out, huh?”

“Of course I would,” you shrugged. “But I’ll be honest. I got most of these side dishes as a gift from one of my friends from work.”

Yunho nodded, thanking you for the meal and eating silently, waiting and waiting but you never asked him about his bloody clothes. Did you dismiss it because you thought it might be from a patient? Or because you simply didn’t care? Was he lucky then, having found you as his housemate? Because one of the qualities he needed in his housemate that he simply couldn’t have stated in the form was a lack of curiosity or inquisitiveness. It was different than being nosy- he could deal with nosy but not someone who would overstep their boundaries because they were curious.

It was why he was apprehensive of you at first. You were a writer. Writers had to be curious and inquisitive, and you were. He knew you were only beginning right now, but the few occasions you had been curious, he was thrown off. And for the right reasons-

“As a doctor, do you think it’s more painful to bleed to death or to drown?”

“As a doctor… do you think a sharp pencil stab to the jugular vein could be fatal?”

That was really all you ever asked him. His opinion as a doctor. You asked with such simplicity that he couldn’t help but stop whatever he was doing and really think about the answer-

“I personally think it’s more painful to drown. The water burns you from the inside. Bleeding to death… you stop feeling things at a certain point and it gets easier from there.”

“Well, it depends on the location of the stab but I reckon if it’s around the base of the neck, it could be fatal. But it would have to be embedded quite deep, and then extracted so a person can bleed to death. If it stays in, there’s no point.”

And his answers would earn him your satisfaction and suddenly, you would be muttering to yourself and going for your room, probably to note it down. He had done his research there too- if he was going to have you as his housemate, he needed to do a background check on you. He didn’t find anything odd in your socials- you tended to stay anonymous and most of your blogs were writing-focused. And when he snooped in your room while you were away grocery shopping, he only found various notes and books on crime and methods of serial killers. He was ashamed to admit he spent quite some time on that book and learned a lot.

So now, having finished the delicious breakfast (you really were a good cook) and finding you uninterested in his whereabouts and the aching bruise on his cheek, he finally cracked the first smile in three days.

“I’ll let you live if you take care of the house like you have been so far. And you really don’t need to wait for me during meals. The rules are still the same.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding and laughed in relief. “Thank you. I’ll stick by the rules, and I’ll probably have dinner with you if I’m not busy- I don’t like eating alone, to be honest. You can pretend I’m not there if that’s what bothers you. Also…”

When Yunho urged you to continue, your shoulders relaxed in relief but your brows crunched in annoyance. “Do you have to bring your muddy shoes inside? I just cleaned.”

Yunho looked towards the doorway. “I can’t leave them out.”

“Well, I can’t have muddy shoes inside, so you’ll have to do something about it yourself or else I’ll be annoyed and have to clean them myself and you do not want me cleaning your shoes-”

“Okay,” Yunho waved a hand to shut you up. “I’ll take them off on the porch next time.”

“Good,” you folded your arms, considering him. “I think we’re good then.”

Yunho narrowed his eyes. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying that…”

“Well, now that we’ve settled everything, I hope you and I will get along,” you extended your hand and he warily shook it, aware of how small your hand was in his. “Now, since you’re a doctor, I must ask if you’ll take care of the loud bruise on your cheek before you sleep. We don’t want it looking worse than it already is.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he assured, and he couldn’t help but continue. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“I’ll admit that I’m curious, but I won’t break a rule- and I won’t be tricked into breaking one either,” you winked at him and once again, he found himself smiling. “I’ll just assume you had a bad day at work or a rough case. You must often get them as a… surgeon?”

He nodded and you started stacking the dishes. “You can go rest now. I’ve installed a clothesline in the backyard- I really wonder where you’ve been drying your clothes all this time, but I won’t ask. You should try hanging your clothes outside this time.”

For a moment, Yunho wondered if he should have kicked you out.

“I just have a question before you disappear,” you turned and he paused in his tracks, wondering if his stealth was worsening. “It’s an odd one, for my book, but… approximately how long would a healthy man suffer with a stab wound to this area-” you rubbed the left side of your stomach, “- given the weapon is an old 12-inch kitchen knife that’s been sharpened way too many times?”

For a moment, Yunho wondered if he had forgotten to lock the cabinet in the kitchen that contained all of his knives. “You’re uh… oddly specific.”

“I have to be,” you shrugged.

“Well…” Yunho rubbed his chin, thinking of all the patients and victims he had dealt with so far. “Can I sleep on it?”

—-----------------------

Your life was finally not falling apart, for once.

In fact, perhaps this was the calmest that things had been for a good few years now, you mused to yourself as you mopped the floor, your usual instrumental playlist on a considerable volume playing in the living room. Ever since you graduated and had to face the reality of navigating through life as an adult, mostly on your own, you had to tackle a lot of struggles and obstacles. Sure, things got better when you finally signed a contract with a publishing company and started writing for them, but whenever you thought things calmed down, there was always something happening to make you feel like everything was falling apart once again.

Like a few weeks ago when you had to move out of your apartment that you had lived in for three years because the owner decided to sell the building and every tenant had to empty their apartment on a rather short notice. You were compensated but that wasn’t enough because everything was so expensive now. You couldn’t go back to your hometown- if you went back, you would never be able to leave again. So you scoured the internet and found your current place.

And things were finally okay. You did not have to worry about rent- you were doing a good job at maintaining the house and feeding the owner proper meals and so far, he had no complaints with you (he told you if he ever did, he would make sure you knew). You were now able to keep up with your weekly deadlines and finally able to overcome your writer’s block- all thanks to Yunho.

Over the past two weeks, while you could not say that Yunho had warmed up to you, he was getting there alright. You could tell because he stopped complaining about you overcleaning- or perhaps, he admitted defeat. He also stopped protesting when you joined him for dinner before he left for work at night and it was then you would ask him all the questions you had- mostly injuries related, sometimes medical law, but you found that he was knowledgeable in legal law as well. He was never curious about why you asked him all your odd questions, but one day, he asked you what exactly you were writing.

“I’m writing about a female detective who’s assigned to a case of serial killings in her precinct. The serial killer is a strange one because he does not have a fixed method of killing and his victim pool has no pattern, and at first the detective believes that there is a group of them which may or may not be working together, but towards the end, I reveal that there was only one… and the serial killer was from the same station as her so he always knew what to avoid.”

And that was the only time Yunho looked remotely impressed with what you did- if you didn’t count the time he saw you carrying a tower of books and wondered how a tiny thing like you could carry so much. After that, whenever you told him about your progress during dinner (you insisted you needed to talk out loud about it and if he didn’t want to hear it, he could say so because you were used to talking to the walls) he would offer clarifications at least about the things that concerned him. You asked him if he had dealt with a lot of fatal wounds in surgery.

“When I was a beginner, that’s when I got the worst of them,” he admitted. “But I don’t work in the fancy hospitals anymore. With some of my colleagues, we opened our own private clinic. The hospital life wasn’t for me- at least not right now.”

That was all he offered about his personal life and you didn’t ask why he couldn’t handle a hospital life right now. Perhaps, he was going through some of his own troubles like you were too. He tended to spend most of his free time out anyway so you figured that medical practice wasn’t the only thing he was doing.

Plus, he had a thing for cars- old, beaten up cars that he would fix in his garage that he called his ‘workshop’. He would dedicate his weekend to those cars and would become so absorbed that he would forget to eat. One time, you made a smoothie for him because he had skipped his meal and when you went to the garage and cleared your throat, he appeared in your vision, all rough and messed up. You stifled your smile and raised the glass in your hand. He simply asked you to leave it in the corner and go away.

He forgot to drink that and you found it the next day in the same spot, to your dismay.

You sighed to yourself when you recalled that day, placing the mop next to the wall while you cleaned the window in the living room. You spotted a car in front of your neighbour’s house where the old couple lived and you figured it might finally be their son paying them a visit. You had actually met the couple while on your way to the convenience store and they asked you if the doctor was giving you any trouble.

“I don’t know why he couldn’t have a housemate for so long,” the old woman shook his head in worry. “He’s such a kind young man. He checks on us every weekend even though he is busy and he makes sure we go to our monthly checkups.”

“Really?” That was unexpected. “Sounds like a kind young man indeed.”

She laughed. “You must be a good person if you’ve stuck around for this long. If he gives you any trouble, just let me know and I’ll give him an earful, yeah?”

You let out a short laugh, wanting to tell her that it was probably the other way round, but it had you wondering why his previous housemates didn’t last long enough with him. He wasn’t a very strict person and the rules weren’t something one couldn’t obey. Was it because of his cold demeanour? You had to admit that he was very mysterious and sometimes, you wondered just what exactly he did other than his medical practice.

Maybe curiosity does kill the cat, so you would let it go.

You were just stacking the mops back in the shed when you heard the sound of Yunho’s bike- you could recognise the sound of his bike now- it wasn’t too loud like other bikes but had a deep sound. You turned to find him parking it in the garage and you checked your wristwatch.

“You’re… early today.”

It was half past four, the sun just starting to illuminate the sky. He usually came back when the sun was fully out. He took off his helmet and ran his hand through his hair, scanning you.

“Yes, I am,” he got off the bike, not offering an explanation. You didn’t need one either. He simply nodded at you once in greeting before going inside-

Leaving a trail of muddy boot prints again.

Cursing at him, you grabbed the mop and started cleaning after him, noticing he took off his shoes on the porch this time. You made a face at the shoes, wishing you could have made it at him and picked them up and wiped them on the grass to get most of the mud off before setting them back on the porch. When you got inside, Yunho cleared his throat.

“You don’t have to take care of my shoes, I’ve said it multiple times-”

“I just cleaned,” you clenched your jaw, turning to him. “Look. You’ve got rules in this house, and as your housemate, I’ll state my rules too.”

“Oh?” He looked amused. “Please, carry on.”

“Wipe your shoes on the grass before you take them off on the porch,” you exhaled, a weight off your shoulders. “I hate it when I have just cleaned the entire house and you come from work with your muddy shoes trampling all over my hard work.”

“Trampling might be a strong word…”

“You get my point,” you glared at him and he straightened, nodding. This was the first time he saw you angry and-

He was trying his best not to laugh right now.

“Any other rules?” He managed to ask without cracking up.

“Just…” you looked around. “Oh yes, I’ve got one. When you wash your hands in the sink, you should wipe your hands with that towel-” you pointed at the twin bunny hand towels hanging by the hook you attached on the wall next to the sink. “You can use the blue one. I have the towel for the purpose that you don’t go around spreading a water trail after yourself.”

This time, Yunho turned around and finally let out the laugh he had been holding back and you stood gaping at him, wondering if you should congratulate yourself for finally making him laugh or if the bubbling thing in your throat was your anger worsening. “What? If you don’t like that, you can kick me out.”

“No,” he turned around to face you, looking down. “I’m… sorry. I won’t do that again, I’ll abide by the rules. You don’t have to get so angry-”

“I’m not angry-”

Yunho stifled another smile, shaking his head as if to stop himself from laughing again and you narrowed your eyes.

“You can laugh in front of me. I don’t bite.”

But perhaps, that was the wrong thing to say. His smile faded and he went back to being the same, cold doctor. “You should go to sleep now.”

Just like that, he dismissed you. He dismissed you like any other time you almost cracked through his cold, mysterious demeanour. And just like always, you let him dismiss you and left him alone.

He might not kick you out for setting these rules but if you continued to try to get him to break this wall he had built all around him… he would have no other option. Curiosity could kill you, you knew, but you were so curious about what kind of a person he was. You didn’t have many neighbours but the old couple insisted he was very kind and friendly when Yunho had been anything but friendly to you. He had been distant, unapproachable, sometimes talkative but rarely smiling like he had today. You refused to believe that this was who he was. He had the brightest smile and the most heartwarming laugh that you heard today, and you vowed to yourself that even though he might kick you out for crossing boundaries…

You would make him laugh. Slowly, and surely, you would break him.

—--------------------------

Yunho had had a few eventful days and perhaps, work was the only place he felt at home now, surrounded by all of his friends who knew him. Knew who he was. Knew and didn’t judge him for being the kind of person that he was. Sure, in his own home, he felt comfortable too (except for when a certain someone started nagging) but his true home was with his people.

And to find you pop up at his workplace without a notice made his eyes twitch in annoyance and realise that the urge to kill you might not be as strong as before but it was there alright.

“What are you doing here?” He said through gritted teeth, surprising not only the old lady from next door but also the staff who walked past you.

“Jeong Yunho, that is no way to talk to a lady!” The woman said, shaking her head in disappointment and when you saw Yunho’s features soften when he met her gaze, you scoffed. “She was kind enough to walk me here- I’m having a lot of trouble with my vision all of a sudden.”

“You should have called the ambulance then,” Yunho frowned, taking the woman’s hand and guiding her across the hallway, disappearing at the end and you pursed your lips, deciding to take a seat in the waiting area.

You looked around- the clinic was big enough and the staff had been kind. It looked like it ran well. There weren’t many people here right now- only a few patients in the waiting and you read the board to see that there were a number of doctors available- a gynaecologist, dentist, paediatrician, psychiatrist, nephrologist, eye specialist, ent specialist and orthopaedic surgeon. You were reading the names of all the doctors when you felt eyes on you and you saw a man in a lab coat watching you with mild amusement. You looked away but when you realised he was still staring, you raised a brow at him and he finally approached you.

“I happened to see your interaction with Yunho earlier, and couldn’t help but wonder if you were the new housemate we’ve heard so much about?”

You were rendered speechless- first of all, he seemed to be pretty damn close with Yunho. Either that or he was nosy, but you knew Yunho wasn’t the type to keep nosy people around. And then…

The housemate ‘we’ had heard so much about?

“Uh… You’re telling me that Dr. Jeong Yunho talks about me? Here? At his workplace? Who might you be?”

“I’m Dr. Jung Wooyoung,” he extended his hand and you shook it. “I’m the dentist here, and an old friend of Yunho’s. I don’t know if he mentioned but our friend group opened up this clinic here.”

“He mentioned colleagues, not friends,” you told him and he shook his head in disappointment. “But nice to meet you, doctor. I’m y/n, the housemate Yunho talks about a lot- all good things, I hope?”

Thus, Wooyoung started retelling every conversation he had with him about you and you found him very easy to talk to. There was just something about him that invited you to relax and let loose, and soon after you heard that Yunho had told them all about you being a nagger and a clean-freak weirdo writer, you were complaining about how Yunho was borderline mean to you and you found it hard to believe that he was the warm, kind and funny person that Wooyoung insisted he was.

“I mean… the lady that I brought with me? Our neighbour? I told her she was wrong when she said that Yunho was a kind young man, but you’re saying he’s the funny one? I haven’t seen him smile in days, Wooyoung.”

“He’ll get used to you in no time,” Wooyoung waved his hand in dismissal. “You just gotta keep trying. Me? I cracked him in two days.”

“No way,” you laughed. “I’ve only made him laugh once and it’s been about a month-”

“Haven’t you got patients waiting for you, Dr. Jung?”

You froze, turning around slowly to see a tense Yunho standing at the corner, watching you two for god knows how long. You were about to apologise to Wooyoung for keeping him back but Wooyoung scoffed at Yunho.

“I expected better from you, mate. I like this one- I’m taking her to Hongjoong’s room,” Wooyoung said, getting up and helping you up too, steering you by your shoulders towards the hallway even though you protested and when you looked back to catch a glimpse of Yunho, you caught him shaking his head in disappointment-

But he let out a chuckle. He probably thought you couldn’t see him. He probably laughed because of Wooyoung. But he was going to get so mad at you-

“Don’t worry, he won’t kick you out,” Wooyoung almost whispered, winking at you. “If he tries anything, you come to me, okay? I’ll handle him.”

“Thanks,” you smiled awkwardly. “Where exactly are you taking me?”

“I would have taken you to Mingi, who’s Yunho’s oldest friend and would have given you tips on how to make Yunho give you the princess treatment, but he’s a little occupied right now so I’m taking you to Yunho’s second-oldest friend, Hongjoong.”

“When I accompanied the neighbour lady, I didn’t mean to intrude,” you paused in your tracks, looking at Wooyoung. “I’m not sure I should be here-”

“It’s okay,” Wooyoung assured you with a wide smile. “Relax. Yunho is not some big angry dude who’ll give you an earful at home. I’ll explain- and by now, he probably knows that I’m the one who’s basically kidnapped you.”

You laughed, allowing him to guide you to the eye specialist’s room and when you went inside, you saw the doctor packing his belongings. When he raised his head and brushed the dark strands away, he frowned at Wooyoung.

“The guest doesn’t look too pleased to be here, Wooyoung.”

“This is Yunho’s housemate,” Wooyoung grinned cheekily and Hongjoong said a loud ‘oh’, greeting you. “She’s the writer, Hongjoong. The crime fiction writer.”

“Ah,” Hongjoong nodded. “I read your book when Yunho told us who you were- ‘In the Silent Hours’? Amazing read.”

You were genuinely touched. “Thank you so much. I wish I could say something, but Yunho hasn’t told me anything about you all.”

“We know,” he laughed. “He can be like that. I hope you had a good experience visiting us, though, and if you have any concerns, you know where to come.”

You looked at Wooyoung who was smiling proudly. “I have way too many questions but I won’t ask- Yunho has a ‘no interfering in personal lives’ policy,” you said and they laughed as if that was the funniest thing Yunho could have done. “I’ll drop by with cookies some day, if you’re okay with that?”

“Sounds great!” Wooyoung clapped.

“I should really get going now and catch up with Yunho on our neighbour’s condition,” you said, excusing yourself and they enthusiastically said goodbye, making you unable to contain your smile as you made your way back to the entrance where Yunho was discussing something with a nurse-

Goodness, he looked so fucking hot in that lab coat with his hair done. You were positive his outworldly proportions were what made a boring lab coat look so attractive-

He caught you staring and when he finished talking with the nurse, he slowly made his way to you.

“Where’s grandma?” You asked. “Did you find out what’s wrong?”

“We’ve referred her to the nearest hospital and called her family- it seems to be a case of infarct and she’s lucky that she’s still walking and functioning like normal save for her eyes.”

“Oh-”

“And thanks to you bringing her so soon, we’ve managed to minimise the damage,” Yunho actually smiled this time and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding. “She’s resting right now- they’ll take care of her until her family comes.”

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Well…” Yunho checked the time and you did the same- it was almost 2 which meant he would be off soon. “It’s almost time to go home. You walked here?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I should get going then.”

When Yunho didn’t say anything, you said bye and turned to leave but then you heard the familiar voice of Wooyoung shout ‘take her home, don’t be an ass!’ and you stifled a grin, facing Yunho to assure you that you would be okay walking-

“Oh, please, I’ll walk myself home-”

“I’m kidding,” Yunho smiled and you wondered if it was the place that made him comfortable enough to joke with you. “I would have considered dissecting you alive if you dropped by for no reason, but really, you did a good thing today. Think of it as returning the sentiment.”

“I really don’t get you,” you said, ignoring the reference he made to your last inquiry about dissections, waiting for him when he said he would get his things from his room. When he returned with his bag, helmet and without the lab coat, you followed him outside, repeating that. “I really don’t get you, Yunho. You seem like two different people in one body.”

“Perhaps, I am,” he mused. “And perhaps, you’re lucky I’m in a good mood today. Here, wear this.”

He handed you his helmet and you took it, watching him get on his bike. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you can wear this, I’ll be fine-”

“Y/n,” he warned, the sudden change in his pitch sending butterflies in your stomach. “Just do as I say. Now, get on and hold on tight. I’m not slowing down for you.”

And perhaps, you should have insisted more on walking back home because he sped through the streets, making you grip his jacket tighter with each passing second, but it was so thrilling that when you reached home, you almost asked for a second round. You took off the helmet and laughed out loud, shaking your head.

“It’s not my first time riding on a bike with someone, but it’s been ages. Can I get another ride one day?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Yunho warned, helping you get off and then parking the bike in his garage. “And I hope you don’t have any questions regarding my workplace today.”

“Oh, I have many, but…” you motioned to your lips, zipping them shut and Yunho nodded in approval, unlocking the house and going inside first. You muttered ‘ass’ and went to the kitchen, heating up everything you had made today, mind still plagued with the events of today.

—-----------------------

You finished plating the steaks, satisfied at your presentation, the cheese perfectly melted on top of the fried crust. It smelled heavenly and since you now knew that Yunho was an actual food enthusiast and a surprisingly gentle and constructive critic, the simple chore of cooking became something you started looking forward to.

When you lived alone, you never made much effort to cook for yourself, but now, things were different. Your house owner was reducing your rent in exchange for home-cooked meals and you could deliver, so you waited for Yunho who would be coming downstairs any minute- he had informed you that he had to leave for work early today so you prepared accordingly, though anyone could tell you were putting more effort into the meals now.

And that was because ever since the day in Yunho’s clinic, it looked like he was finally starting to consider you more than a housemate. You couldn’t exactly call yourselves friends- the rules were still the same, but perhaps, Yunho liked that you were a person of your word. You never talked about that day in the hospital, neither did you ask him about his friends. You never asked him what happened if he came back home at an odd time or if he suddenly went out in the middle of the night. You both respected each other’s boundaries and perhaps, that was what made him start opening up to you.

It wasn’t much, no. It was the little things- him offering to help you arrange the grocery or join you when you watched netflix. He would scroll on his phone, occasionally comment on whatever you were watching and then leave. It was him actually cleaning after himself when he accidentally brought his muddy shoes inside- you gave him a thumbs-up to acknowledge his effort and even that got him flustered, which you thought was cute. And it was him actually taking interest in what you were writing instead of giving answers to the questions you asked.

When you heard his footsteps down the stairs, you pretended to be busy setting the table and he made an impressed face as he took a seat.

“This is new,” he commented, waiting for you to sit before he could dig in.

“I’ve had this recipe for a while and finally felt the urge to try it,” you told him. When he took the first bite and nodded in approval, you relaxed and began eating yourself.

“It’s been about two months. You don’t have to worry about what I think about your cooking. I’ll have it even if it doesn’t taste like something straight out of a restaurant.”

“Can’t tell if it’s a joke or not, but I like it when the other person starts first- when I cook,” you said. He understood. He always seemed to understand where you came from, which was why you both rarely ever disagreed on things.

“It’s really good,” he said. “Also, I wanted to, uh, inform you- there’s a fundraiser happening at the clinic to help the patients who can’t afford to pay their bills. If you would like to participate…”

You passed him a side-eye. “That’s not you talking, is it?”

“You’re right,” he looked guilty. “Wooyoung and Hongjoong forced me to. Something about… cookies?”

“Oh? They remember?”

“They said it’s a good opportunity to flaunt your baking skills if you’re up for it,” Yunho shook his head in thought. “I personally think it’s okay if you don’t want to bake for strangers-”

“When is it?”

“This weekend.”

“I can do it,” you said and when he looked like he was regretting asking you, you continued, “If you have some qualms about me personally attending it, I could just bake the cookies and you could take them with you.”

“No, it’s not that,” he scratched his neck. “It’s…”

“I know, and I don’t mind,” you assured him. “I agreed to your terms when I decided to move in here. I won’t interfere in your workspace if that is what you want-”

“No, it’s okay. It’s just… new for me too,” he admitted and you paused, a bit surprised to hear that. “I’ll let you know the timings-”

His gaze stuck on the kitchen counter for a few moments, prompting you to follow it and see that he was staring holes into the knife holder. You looked at Yunho again to make sure if that was what he was staring at and then his gaze went to the cabinet at the left end of the kitchen-

“Where did you get those knives?”

For a moment, you wondered if his change of tone was something you were imagining until he got up and slowly walked to the counter where the knife holder was, taking out one of the knives and examining it and then almost rushing towards the cabinet at the left end and opening it-

“I told you not to touch the locked cabinets, didn’t I?”

You would have perhaps trembled under his dark gaze if you weren’t so confused right now. “The locked cabinets, yes? But that one was unlocked?”

Yunho glared at you, knife still in his hand. “When did you check it?”

“I was looking for a knife strong enough to cut meat and I found this cabinet unlocked-”

“You used this knife to cut the meat?”

You could feel your hands get clammy by now, lower lip almost quivering and you hated how small your voice sounded when you said yes. He turned around and almost grunted in pain and you wondered just what you had done so wrong. Almost mechanically, you took another bite of your now cold steak. Yunho came back to his seat but instead of sitting, he dropped the knife on the table with a clang.

“You knew that cabinet used to be locked, didn’t you?” His loud voice shook you and you wondered what effect he would have if he shouted. “You keep breaking rules without breaking them-”

“Well it’s not my fault it was unlocked, okay?” You shouted this time, dropping your utensils on the table, frustrated. “You should have locked it properly then!”

Before he could respond, you stormed off to your room, shutting your door with a bang and he slumped down on his chair, trying to take deep breaths, trying to suppress the feeling of disgust he got when he looked at his half-eaten meal-

Because you fucking used his knife to make a meal for him.

The knife he had killed several people with.

How could he forget to lock it? He couldn’t recall not locking it, but still, how could he be so careless? How could he-

He heard a muffled sound- it was hard to miss because the house was usually very silent, but it had to be the sound of you sobbing and to his surprise, despite everything, something in his heart ached at the sound. Now that the cloud of anger was disappearing, he realised he had reacted irrationally. It was his fault for not making sure the cabinet with his murder weapons was locked. He kept them in the kitchen so it wouldn’t be suspicious if someone saw, but still, he should have hidden them well. And then what he said about you continuing to break rules when he himself invited you to the fundraiser-

Yes, Wooyoung suggested it but it was ultimately him who invited you. Yunho shook his head, disappointed in himself and wondered what to do. He came to the conclusion that for now, he needed to collect his thoughts while you sobbed. Shit, he thought. He must have scared you a lot. He had been told way too many times that he was a scary person when angry, and you did not have to see that when you spent an hour making him such a good meal.

So, disappointed and praying to the heavens above that you at least washed the knives properly before you used them, he resumed eating, almost gagging through the rest of the meal and when he was done and had one glass of cool water down his system to calm himself, he finally mustered the courage to get up, be a man and apologise to you.

The thing about you, he realised since you moved here, was that you were odd in a charming way. When he was looking for a housemate who would maintain the house and cook, he didn’t expect someone who was so dedicated to the task. You were busy too, but it looked like you had shifted your schedule to adjust to his. When he was gone to work, you slept, and when he came back, you would be waiting for him. You had added life to this house and he couldn’t believe how much his mood had changed now that the house looked like a home and he ate well.

You always gave and gave, expecting nothing in return. Perhaps, that’s just who you were. A good person, someone he could only wish to be. Someone who only wrote about horrible crimes instead of actually committing them. Someone who believed that her house owner was a respectable doctor and not a part-time serial killer as well.

That was debatable too. He had a purpose- he didn’t kill randomly. He only killed the people who deserved it. But that was a story for later- he couldn’t come into your room and tell you that reason, so what the hell was he doing standing in front of your door?

Yunho knocked gently and when you fell silent but didn’t respond, he knocked again.

“Y/n? Can I come in?”

Silence.

“Please?”

It was the gentleness in his voice that made you mutter a small yes, but only after you wiped your tears away. Truth be told, you weren’t that sensitive. You weren’t sure why you ended up throwing a tantrum and crying tonight but you figured it was long due now. You just wished you could explain to him without becoming a mess again-

And then he opened the door, looking worriedly at you. Worriedly, with his brows scrunched and actions hesitant and you found your vision getting blurry with tears again.

Dammit.

You looked away but from the corner of your eye you saw him look around the room once before hesitantly walking to where you were- on the floor, back resting against the bed. To your surprise, he sank down next to you, mirroring your position.

“I don’t know how to say it, but I’m sorry,” he almost whispered. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way. It’s my fault.”

A fresh stream of tears left your eyes and you weren’t sure if it was because of what happened earlier or what he said now. He couldn’t simply come inside your room and apologise and act like it wouldn’t affect you.

“Will you look at me?”

You wiped your tears and turned to face him, hesitating to meet his eyes. He understood. He shifted a bit towards you. “No explanation will make it better, and I’m ashamed that I reacted this way when it’s my fault that I left that cabinet unlocked. I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you when you do so much for me without asking.”

“Yes,” your voice was quivering as much as your lips. “It’s your fault. I mean… I won’t ask but they are just knives, Yunho.”

And then you were crying again at the absurdity of it all and Yunho decided to take responsibility. He patted your head awkwardly and when you buried your head between your knees, he drew closer and wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he attempted to sound sincere- he was, but you didn’t need to know that he was also stifling grins. “I scared you, right?”

“You did!” You cried. “Do you know how awful you look when you’re angry? And holding that knife? I thought you were going to stab me, Yunho.”

And this time, Yunho laughed heartily, making you laugh as well and push him away. He put a hand on the side of your face to cup it, still laughing as he said, “Please. Who would cook for me if I killed you?”

“I don’t know,” you pouted. “You have a lot of friends. Maybe one of them could cook for you.”

Yunho smiled at that, wiping your tears away and you suddenly felt conscious of the position you two were in, though he didn’t seem to realise it yet- or he was ignoring it, for once. “Sorry for almost yelling at you. And sorry for saying everything that I did.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, scanning his features now that you were looking at him up close for the first time. You noticed how warm his eyes could look, how soft his features actually were. He looked perfect, and if it weren’t for all the rules that would cost you a living space, you would have crossed a lot of boundaries by now. “I’m sure you had your reasons- and I should have asked when I found the cabinet unlocked.”

“But that doesn’t justify my behaviour one bit,” he shook his head. “Now, will you come out and finish your dinner?”

“But-”

“I have finished mine,” he told you. “And now you should too. I’ll go heat it up.”

With a pat to your cheek, he left the room, leaving you wrapped in his clean and manly scent. You sighed deeply, avoiding the mirror but wiping your face before taking a seat back at the table. You watched him set the table for you.

“You should go now,” you said. “You had to leave early. I’ve probably held you back a lot, I’m sorry-”

“I’ll go when you finish eating,” he insisted and you shot him a glare before picking up your fork.

“Just so you know,” you said as you took a bite, Yunho watching you earnestly. “I don’t usually become a crying mess like I just did. I’m stronger than that.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I am,” you glared at him again. “But I have my limit too. And today was all the pent up emotions from the previous two months.”

“All because of me, huh?”

“Don’t think too highly of yourself,” you teased. “I have other things to worry about too.”

“Of course you do,” he smiled.

“Yep. Like deadlines. And chores.”

“I hope the fundraiser won’t conflict with your deadline?”

“It won’t,” you told him. “You’re assuming I’ll attend.”

“I’ll make sure you do,” he said as you finished eating the last bite. “Because I’m the one who’s inviting you.”

Perhaps, this was another step towards a relationship more meaningful than housemates. Perhaps…

He was finally starting to consider you a friend.

—-------------------------------

Sometimes, Yunho wondered if it was a good decision to have you as his housemate.

It wasn’t that you were doing anything wrong, no. You were perfect. Goodness, you were perfect and he both loved and hated that. He had no idea how he got lucky with you- and he was not thinking about the fact that he got to have delicious meals at home or his place looked maintained.

It was about the things he could talk to you about, and hell, he didn’t even talk to you much. You probably had no idea how much he enjoyed your little questions about what was the most painful way to die or how you would kill someone in a certain context- it was the only time, perhaps, that he could be himself. He had spent a long time being convinced by his friends that he was not a bad person inside, and perhaps, they were right. But if they were…

Why did he enjoy talking to you about this stuff so much? Was it because these secrets were a burden to him, even though his friends knew? He never told them the details so perhaps, talking about killing people and hurting them in detail with you helped him in some twisted, cathartic way. Whatever it was, he was certain that he was getting addicted to watching you get impressed by his knowledge about such things he claimed was from years of his surgery practice, and he was also ashamedly addicted about how unhinged you sounded when you talked about the criminals in your fiction.

He was positive you couldn’t be an undercover-something. You couldn’t even hurt a fly, let alone a human. But the way you got excited when you talked in detail about a certain type of wound or method of torture… he often found himself zoning out and simply staring at you while you talked. Perhaps, he was the unhinged one, but he found you so attractive when you talked about what you loved writing about, and he was very close to asking you about what made you write such gory crime fiction novels. He would be breaking his own rule of not interfering in each other’s personal lives, but all rules be damned- he had to know what drove you to write all of this.

He was also pretty sure you weren’t as naive as you looked and probably found his habits weird. There was no way he could look redeemable after the knife incident. While you were gone the next day, he personally sanitised all of them because he was sure you were going to keep using those knives. He figured it turned out to be okay in the end- he had to change his murder weapons and method soon anyway. The police were starting to connect a few dots and he was sure they would come with a search warrant any day.

But perhaps, it was a good decision to have you in this house. If the police ever came, you could help with Yunho’s image. He felt guilty for using you for that purpose now that he was almost starting to care about you despite his principles but… in the end, it was all turning out to be good. All was well.

A bit too well, if he had to say, as he watched you get a little too chummy with Mingi and Wooyoung. You had done a good job at the fundraiser, having baked dozens of cookies and with some strange ribbon packaging you claimed was cute. He took care of the stall but you still brought a lot of decoration from the house to give it a personal touch, and not only the visitors but the staff were also impressed by your skills. Now that the event was done and you were wrapping up everything, Mingi and Wooyoung had casually joined you to help and to praise your work. Yunho didn’t miss the subtle glances they threw in his direction as if to tease him, and what could he say?

It was working.

“Are you gonna keep watching her like she’s your next target or are you going to make a move?”

Yunho shut his eyes in mild annoyance before looking to his right where Seonghwa stood with his trademark smile, nodding at the visitors who greeted him before they left. If anyone knew that behind the kind smile of the paeds doctor was one of the masterminds of their team that essentially rooted out the evil from the society…

“I’d rather watch. I know Mingi or Wooyoung will say something stupid if I approach them now.”

Seonghwa chuckled at that. “She’s done a good job today. She’s extraordinary, Yunho.”

Yunho narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me that you two were discussing her novel when you took a break in the cafe.”

“You know what I think?” Seonghwa almost whispered as if letting him in on a secret. “If she was a part of our team, we could actually succeed in working with the police.”

“How?”

“Think about it,” he bowed at one of the elders who passed by. “Imagine her next work is about what we do. Crime fiction to others, but something the police could use to clean up our mess, yeah?”

Once again, Yunho was in awe of the way Seonghwa’s mind worked. “The police would use that to arrest us.”

“Or they would turn a blind eye and let us do their dirty work. Two sides of the coin,” Seonghwa patted Yunho’s back and left to join Hongjoong and Yunho considered what he had said. When he saw Mingi pick something out of your hair, though, he decided he’d had enough.

“Ah, you’re here,” Wooyoung had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Y/n, now is your time to tell us if you’d like to change your houseowner.”

“Nah, I’m good,” you grinned, meeting Yunho’s eyes who looked pleased to hear that. “This one is good at pretending I don’t exist so sometimes I feel like I own the house myself.”

Mingi laughed loudly at that and Yunho smiled in embarrassment. He was guilty, yes. When you noticed his ears getting red, you laughed. “I’m just kidding. I really couldn’t have a better person as a housemate.”

“You’re lying,” Wooyoung smacked your arm playfully and you put the last of the things in your duffel bag.

“You won’t understand,” you simply told Wooyoung and chanced a glance at Yunho who no longer looked embarrassed and offered to take your bag. You let him and said your goodbyes to the two, waving at the rest of the staff who told you to come again (with baked treats) and you followed Yunho to the parking lot. This time, you had made sure he had a spare helmet and when he noticed you grinning, he asked you what was so funny.

“Nothing, I’m just excited to ride your bike again,” you giggled like a kid. “I kind of have a thing for bikes.”

And there it was. Another reason Yunho felt his heart pound rather uncharacteristically.

Perhaps, that was what prompted him to break one of his biggest rules and ask, “Would you like to have dinner somewhere… with me? You must be too tired to make dinner at home, and I know a quiet spot if you’re up for it- if not… that’s okay too, we could order something instead-”

He paused when he noticed your smile growing and he raised a brow in question. You wanted to tell him that he was rambling (which was cute as hell) but you only nodded. “I’d love to. You’re right, I’m tired- and a quiet spot sounds nice at this hour. I won’t say no to a longer bike ride too.”

Yunho chuckled at that as he put on his helmet. You followed and got on the bike behind him. “It’s not gonna be a short trip if you’re okay.”

“I’m good!” You assured and he told you to hang on tight as he started the heavy bike and started driving towards the darkening horizon. You put your hands on Yunho’s shoulders but as he sped on the emptier roads, you resorted to clutching the sides of his jacket and rested your head on his back, watching the view. You loved how quiet it got in your head at times like these and it almost made you wish this moment would never end.

You didn’t know how much time passed but finally, Yunho started slowing down and you looked up, finding yourself at the riverside. When he parked in an empty space, he got down first and helped you down. You took off your helmet and smoothened your hair, looking around. It seemed to be a remote spot that the tourists had not yet discovered and the pretty lightning bordering the sidewalk illuminated the benches at the distance and-

“Fried chicken!” You grinned. “I didn’t know what I was craving until I smelt it.”

Yunho smiled, motioning you to follow him. He led you inside where you placed your orders and you both decided to take one of the tables outside. There weren’t many people here anyway so you were going to enjoy the cool river breeze.

Now that you sat in front of him, it finally settled in that you were outside with Yunho for the first time. That he offered to take you out for dinner. It didn’t help that he looked absolutely dreamy with his dark hair falling messily on his forehead and his shoulder looking even broader in the black jacket he wore, and when he ran a hand through his hair, swiping it away from his forehead-

He met your eyes and you realised you had been staring. You awkwardly sipped your water and looked towards your left, urging yourself to focus on the sound of the waves instead of the sound of your erratic heartbeat. You cleared your throat. “How did you find this spot? It’s beautiful.”

“I used to live near here when I was little,” he smiled and you thought there was something sad about it.

“Oh, your parents must still live around here then?” You wondered and when his smile fell, you knew you had asked a question you shouldn’t have.

But to your surprise, he answered, “They passed away when I was in highschool. I had to move out soon, so I couldn’t come back here for a good few years.”

“Oh, I’m… sorry to hear that,” you said and he told you it was okay. “I can tell why this place is close to your heart though. It’s wonderful here.”

“Yeah, it is,” he said and you were glad your chicken arrived at that moment, breaking the awkwardness from your conversation. “How did today go? You’re quite popular at the clinic now.”

You grinned, “Nobody can resist chocolate chip cookies, apparently. Wooyoung said I helped raise a lot of money.”

“You did,” Yunho confirmed and you both took a bite of the chicken. You groaned in appreciation.

“I don’t know if it's the river or the vibe,” you said after swallowing the first bite. “But doesn’t the chicken taste so good here?”

“There’s a reason I brought you here,” he laughed at the way you stared at the chicken. “Good food and a killer view.”

It took you both a few pieces to get comfortable and this time, when you asked him about the clinic and all his friends, he answered all your questions. You learned that Yunho and Mingi were school friends and Yunho met Hongjoong at the end of highschool. Their group expanded over the years and today, after years of studying and working together, they had their own place.

Yunho also asked you about your recent progress and you complained about your publishers. He then asked where you were originally from and he learned that you were from a small town at the outskirts of the city and had a younger brother but your relationship with your family was a bit strained so you didn’t visit them often. He also found that you didn’t have many friends, just a few you met annually. He realised then why it was so easy for you to get comfortable with Wooyoung and Mingi- perhaps, they reminded you of your friends, or maybe you missed normal human interaction.

“For what?”

“For everything,” he shrugged. “You do a lot. I haven’t done anything in return.”

“Uh, forty percent off?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Just accept the sentiment and shut up.”

“Yes sir,” you saluted and he paid the bill, insisting it was his treat even though you asked to split the bill. “Well, if you won’t let me pay, maybe we can walk a little before we go?”

“That makes no sense, but okay,” Yunho said, shaking his head in amusement and you took the lead, going towards the edge to peek down at the river and then you started your stroll.

“Isn’t it nice to get some fresh air?” You commented, taking a deep breath. “No worries, just the river and us.”

Yunho nodded silently and you grinned. “If you have more spots like these… don’t hide them from me.”

“Just this one,” he admitted and you nodded, satisfied. “What about you? Do you have a spot like this?”

You had… until everything went horribly wrong. You had a place so close to your heart that you hadn’t visited in years-

“You okay?” Yunho asked worriedly, having noticed your smile drop.

“Uh, yeah,” you pursed your lips. “I had one. I don’t go there anymore- bad memories.”

“Ah… sorry I asked-”

“It’s okay,” you assured. “If I grow the guts one day… I’ll take you there.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Just shut up and accept the offer,” you winked at him and he grinned at your statement. You noticed you had already walked around the area, the parking lot in your vision now. Before you could walk towards it, Yunho called your name, making you pause in your tracks.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure?”

“Did you mean it when you said… earlier at the clinic…” Yunho put his hands in his pockets awkwardly, trying to phrase it better. “When you-”

“When I said you were a good housemate?” You asked, internally smiling because you just knew he would end up asking you to elaborate. “I meant it.”

“Why? I have been anything but nice.”

“That’s a lie,” you pointed out. “Just because you have a few rules you’re strict about doesn’t mean you’re not nice company when you’re in a good mood. And you answer all my weird questions without judgement!” You clapped your hands. “What more could I ask for?”

When you saw that he didn’t look convinced, you took a deep breath. “To be honest, my life was falling apart before I moved in with you. Everything started going wrong at the same time. It was too much and I really thought I would have to go back to my hometown- and I would go anywhere but there. So when we made a deal? Yes, I thought you were strange at first but I couldn’t complain, and now that we’ve… warmed up to each other a bit, you’re not bad company at all, Yunho. You may still be an asshole about your rules,” you laughed and he joined, the corners of his lips curving downwards- was he flustered? “But I can see why the people at the clinic like you. You’re quite dependable.”

“That’s…”

“Too much?” You laughed. “In short, you gave me a nice deal and my life is finally back to normal, and you’re a good person, you idiot. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I think you’re getting a little too comfortable with me though…”

“Yeah?” You walked towards the bike. “Says the guy who basically took me on a date.”

And there it was again- the flustered smile of his that was so endearing, the ears turning red and the nervous laugh as he wondered what to do, where to look. You laughed out loud, finding it quite funny.

“You’re a very easy prey, Dr. Jeong,” you teased. “Quite easy to get to.”

“Did you really think of this as a date?” He held his helmet, waiting for your answer and you thought about it.

“Platonic date?” You wondered. “Outing? Icebreaking party? Whatever you wanna name it…”

You faltered when he stepped closer and looked down at you, scanning your face. Suddenly, you were so conscious of the proximity between you two. The dim lights made his gaze look darker and you wished you could take a peak in his mind. He brought his hand up and tucked your hair behind your ear ever so gently, lightly caressing your cheek-

And then he poked you in the middle of the forehead, making you wince out loud.

“I’m still the grumpy mysterious owner,” he quoted what you had said to Wooyoung today and you gaped at him, wondering if he had heard the entirety of the conversation. “So don’t get too ahead of yourself, okay?”

You rubbed your forehead, muttering okay and complaining about how he could have just said so. But when you wore your helmet and settled down behind him, clutching at the sides of his jacket, he held your hands in his and you couldn’t even digest how his big hands engulfed your small ones before he wrapped your arms around his waist.

“It’s better this way- I’m speeding,” he said.

“I really don’t get you, Yunho,” you told him and he cast you a glance before starting to drive, speeding as promised. You were pretty sure he wouldn’t have cared if you held on to the sides of his jacket like earlier or his shoulders for dear life but…

But you wouldn’t complain. So you rested your head against his back again, bodies flush against each other and you let yourself feel whatever you were feeling for the ride back home.

—----------------------------

It was a good day today- somewhat productive because you were almost done writing your book and the editor was pleased with your work too. Yunho was having dinner with his colleagues tonight so you decided not to cook and just have the leftovers from yesterday for dinner then and went to your room to finally sort out the mess you had been avoiding ever since you moved in-

The books.

While you had lined all your books along the walls, creating towers of them that you were scared would one day fall on you if you ever made a clumsy mistake, you had realised that perhaps it was time you let go of some of the books. You could already feel your heart being broken at the thought but your room was starting to look too congested compared to the rest of the spacious house so you would have to make a little sacrifice.

So you spent hours sorting through the books and almost didn’t hear Yunho coming downstairs until he knocked on your room, eyes widening at the books around you.

“Yeah, I know I’m a mess,” you said. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah,” Yunho nodded, laughing in what seemed to be shock. “Do you need… help?”

“No, I’m just sorting them out,” you dismissed, though surprised at the offer. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Yunho was still lingering at the doorway. “Well, I don’t know when I’ll be back, so…”

“Have fun,” you looked at him, grinning. “I’ll be fine. This is something I do annually.”

“If you say so. Don’t get lost in there,” he teased and you rolled your eyes, shooing him away.

And that was that. You didn’t even realise how much time passed- you kept getting distracted as you held each book in hand and recalled the memories associated with it. It was only when the doorbell rang that you frowned, checking the clock. It was 09:47 pm- who could it be? Not Yunho- he had his keys. Maybe the woman from next door?

But when you opened the door to two grown men with badges around their necks, you did a quick scan, realising two things- that they were detectives, and one of the faces was way too familiar.

“Good evening, miss,” the younger one said. “We’re Detectives Lee and Seo from the station-”

“Y/n?” The older one- the familiar face called your name and suddenly, it clicked-

It clicked. Everything you had buried deep inside you, somewhere so deep that you hadn’t thought about it in perhaps a year, was suddenly out and washing over you like a wave of cold water. Everything from about two decades ago started flashing in front of your eyes and you gulped down the thing stuck in your throat with immense effort.

“Detective Seo?” Your voice sounded small even to your ears.

“It’s been a while,” he looked as confused as you. “I didn’t expect to see you here- doesn’t this house belong to a Doctor Jeong Yunho?”

“You’re right,” you told him. “I live on the first floor on rent.”

“I see… Can we come in then?”

“If you’re here to meet Dr. Jeong, he’s not home right now-”

“We can wait,” he told you. “Besides… it’s been a while- won’t you invite us for tea?”

“You can’t just visit so late at night and expect tea,” you folded your arms, finally getting a grip. “What is the purpose of your visit, really?”

“We really needed a statement, or anything from the doctor,” Detective Seo said. “Let us wait for him for half an hour, and then we’ll leave.”

You considered kicking them out but then figured they could wait. Yunho would probably be late and they would have to go back after half an hour without anything. Plus, it didn’t look like Detective Seo was about to budge anytime soon. The other detective also looked intrigued and you gave in, allowing them to the living room though just like two decades ago, Detective Seo made a point of roaming around-

“That your room?” He pointed at the mess of books and you stifled the urge to pass a biting remark.

“Yes, I was a little busy as you can probably see. Please, take a seat.”

While you asked Detective Lee if he would like some tea, you kept an eye on the older detective who was now looking around the living room. You turned on the kettle- there was no way you were going to serve them the fancier teas you had. They would have to make do with teabags.

“How long since you moved here?”

“Is that related to your current investigation?” You asked and he scoffed.

“Come on, y/n. Don’t act like we’re strangers here. Are you still in contact with your family?”

And there it was.

“Not really,” you simply said. “I moved out for college and only visit annually.”

“How’s your mother doing?”

Your mother. Your brother. The people who destroyed you.

“She’s okay, probably,” you said. Your voice was already starting to crack, and that was not a good sign. The kettle turned off and you poured the boiling water carefully into the cups, wondering if Yunho returning early would make things better or worse.

“I moved here around that time too,” he said, taking the cup from you with thanks and after giving the other to Detective Lee, you went to stand near the kitchen, folding your arms again. “I visit a lot though. I heard your brother got into a good college.”

“Yeah, well,” you pursed your lips. “I suppose he did.”

“Do you still blame yourself for what happened back then?”

You pretended to not hear that question and asked the detective to take a seat. It was getting annoying now that he walked casually towards the kitchen, scanning the notes stuck on the fridge- Yunho’s “eat your dinner pls” that you only noticed now, your to-do list and grocery list, and the silly magnets. He made a face and placed his empty cup on the sink-

And then he spotted the knife holder.

“That’s a lot of knives,” he commented.

“I cook. A lot,” you said, wishing you had made that teabag tea for yourself too- anything to keep you from squirming. The detective looked at you suspiciously before taking his hand out of his pocket-

“Do not touch my knives, Detective,” you glared at him. “Can you please get out of the kitchen and wait in the living room?”

“I’m just looking,” he dismissed you and to your annoyance, took out one of the knives to examine, and then the other, then the other-

“I said, do not touch my knives.”

Yunho, who was standing outside the house near the kitchen window that was slightly ajar so he could hear everything, felt his heart swell in pride and admiration- he had never heard you state anything as strongly before. He contained in his sigh of relief, wondering if now was the right time to barge in.

Truth be told, he had spotted their car as soon as he entered the street and at first he thought that you had broken one of the rules and invited someone but upon a closer look, he realised with dread that the car belonged to the detectives who had just recently connected one of the cases with his clinic. He parked his bike in the garage and when he heard voices from the kitchen window, he went to eavesdrop and realised that they had just entered.

“No need to get so angry over some kitchen knives,” Detective Seo’s voice was stern. “What do you need so many for anyway? Are they yours?”

“I’m the only one who can cook,” you were seething now. “And what’s it to you?”

“Well, this one looks oddly familiar.”

“Yeah? It’s for cutting vegetables, Detective. I bet your wife owns it too- if you have one. That one’s for dicing, the one on top for fish because I feel like it remains stinky so it’s only for fish. You have a problem with that?”

Yunho stifled a smile- you were rambling now. He wondered why you didn’t simply tell them that they were his knives originally. He was positive the detectives would be connecting the dots right away and going back for an arrest warrant-

“Well, you see,” Detective Seo picked the longest knife out. “This one?”

“For meat,” you muttered.

“This one matches the murder weapon in the case we’re investigating,” he looked at you. “12 inches, dull but sharpened far too many times.”

“Yeah?” You scoffed. “So someone’s committed murder with a kitchen knife? They’re a genius.”

“How so?”

“Who doesn’t own a kitchen knife?” You almost cried. “They’re probably making a fool out of you, go back to your home and look in your kitchen. You probably have a 12 inch dull meat knife too.”

“How would you know?” Detective Lee asked this time. “That they’re making a fool out of us?”

“Why else would they use such an inconvenient weapon? Either for the thrill, or to make a fool out of you. Or both. Just… put the knife back, okay?”

“You’ve always been an odd one, and you always knew way too much,” Detective Seo put the knife back but narrowed his eyes at you. “Where were you on the 17th around midnight?”

“Around midnight, every day of every year for the past few years, I’ve been home. And I hope you go raiding everyone’s kitchen now that you know what your murder weapon looks like. Also, why are you even here? To investigate me? Again?”

“We came for Dr. Jeong-”

“You think he goes around committing murder only to operate on them later in his clinic? He’s a doctor, for Christ’s sake,” you shut your eyes, feeling a burning sensation in both your throat and eyes. “Please, leave. You can meet Dr. Jeong elsewhere- I’ll ask him to contact you.”

“And why are you getting so jittery?” Detective Seo asked. “Is there something you’re hiding again? Someone you’re protecting again? Or are you just protecting yourself-”

Yunho couldn’t take it anymore- he’d heard enough, and the whimper that left you made his vision dark for a moment. Rushing to the front door, he unlocked it and entered, shutting it a bit loudly to prove a point-

And saw you standing in the middle of the room, curling in on yourself, eyes weary. If hearing you sound like that wasn’t enough, having to look at you in this state was worse and he wished he had acted earlier. He didn’t know what took over him but he rushed to you and wrapped you in his arms-

And when you buried your face in his chest, relaxing instantly in his grasp, red hot anger ran through his veins as he assessed the detectives who stood awkwardly around him.

“How dare you make my girl cry?” He almost growled, wrapping his arms tighter, almost possessively around you. “What are you doing here?”

Detective Seo shook his head in disbelief and Detective Lee took the lead. “We came to talk to you about a few things- it’s very hard to reach you-”

“So you come barging into my house and bombard someone unrelated with questions and make her cry?” Yunho scoffed. “A phone call? Summoning me to the station? Or at least a search warrant, which I bet you don’t have, just like before. Shall I report you for misconduct?”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Detective Seo finally butted in. “Y/n and I were just catching up- we’re actually acquaintances-”

You shook your head in Yunho’s grasp to let him know that you did not want to be a part of this ‘catching up’ and Yunho patted your back.

“She says otherwise,” Yunho caressed your hair. “I don’t care if you’ve met before. You’re clearly unwanted. Please, leave. You have my number, you can contact me later, but do not make the mistake of coming here again. And do not try to make contact with her again.”

Shrugging, the detectives left, Detective Lee muttering a silent apology on behalf of them both. When you heard the doors sound shut, you tried getting out of Yunho’s grasp to let him know he didn’t need to do that anymore-

But he only deepened the hug, leaning down this time to hold you better and you sighed at that. He rocked you gently back and forth, all the while caressing your head gently as if he meant to lull you to some calm space- and oh, was he successful. You were no longer crying.

Hesitantly, he broke away a bit to see if you were okay. Your eyes fluttered open, a bit red from crying and he cupped your face, wiping your tears.

“Why did you let them in, y/n?”

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s okay,” he assured you. “Did they force themselves inside?”

“Not really, but they were insisting on coming inside and waiting,” you sniffed. “Detective Seo- the older one… he knows me from when I was a kid and he started to get a bit too comfortable-”

“I know,” he told you and when you frowned in confusion, he said, “I actually heard a bit of it while I was parking.”

“A bit?”

“Most of it,” he admitted, breaking into a smile. “You did not have to defend my kitchen knives with all your might, y/n.”

You chuckled at that. “I don’t know, I got so angry! He kept walking around and it was annoying me so much- I thought giving him tea would make him sit, but no, he had to walk around with a cup in his hand-”

Yunho shook with laughter, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re too adorable at times.”

“And… I can’t believe I’m hearing the word adorable come out of your mouth,” you looked at him in disbelief. “Who are you? And where is Dr. Jeong?”

“It’s just Yunho,” he smiled and you smiled back, spending a moment just looking at him and realising that you were still way too close, in his arms, your heart fluttering uncontrollably.

“Well… just Yunho,” you said, your hands on his waist feeling clammy. “Thank you for coming at the right time. And thank you for… what you did.”

Yunho took a deep breath. “Are you okay?”

You pursed your lips, looking away. You could not answer that, because even if you lied to him, you would break down anyway. Detective Seo had opened the dam of unwanted, ugly memories and you were definitely not okay. You wouldn’t be for a while now-

But it looked like Yunho had made it his life’s mission to make sure you would feel okay. He brought you back in a hug and this time, you didn’t cry. You simply wrapped your arms around his waist better and listened to the sound of his heartbeat which somehow calmed you. To your surprise, he planted a kiss on the top of your head before he squeezed you in assurance.

You broke away to look at him. “What’s got you so… clingy and fluffy all of a sudden? Not that I don’t like it, but…”

Yunho tucked your hair away from your face, kissing your forehead this time and pretending he hadn’t heard that. It wasn’t the first time he got a closer look at you yet he committed everything to memory as if it was his first time seeing you. He couldn’t answer your question either, because…

He was pretty sure he had fallen for you a little when he heard you earlier. The way you never let the detectives think about him for even a second when you were being cornered with the knives- he was absolutely sure that you had not done that unintentionally. Sure, he had initially thought that if he ever got in trouble with the police, you could make a good cover, but now you had protected him on purpose. He would ask you about that, but first…

“Did you eat dinner?”

“Uh… no. I forgot.”

Yunho shook his head in disappointment. “I go away for one meal and you forget to eat.”

You pouted and he led you to the chair, making you sit. He poured a glass of water for you and after you drank it, he asked if you made something today. You told him you didn’t cook today and he sighed.

“So you only cook for me?”

“I like cooking… and I like cooking for you,” you pouted again, feeling exposed.

“But not cooking for yourself?” Yunho asked, making you look at him. “Why won’t you cook for yourself?”

You shrugged. You didn’t have an answer for that.

“Well, I’m not a good cook, but I’ll see what I can do…” he got up and you told him he did not have to, that what he did for you tonight was enough, but he told you to shut up and opened the fridge, taking out the kimchi and then looking through the cabinets-

“Ramyeon sounds good? That’s one thing I can cook well,” he grinned.

You nodded, getting comfortable and watching him roll his sleeves before he washed his hands in the sink, drying them with the blue bunny towel and then you stopped noticing what he was doing and instead noticed the veins on his arms, the faded scar near the elbow that probably ran up his upper arm, his broad shoulders and narrow waist, the dark hair that curled at the nape of his neck-

And those beautiful, beautiful hands that were now setting the pot on the table. You blinked, coming back to reality, and thanked him for the meal. He watched you eat for a few moments before he said, “I’m sorry you had to go through what you did today. It’s my fault.”

“Yunho,” you sighed, “It’s not.”

“It is,” he shook his head. “The detectives seemed to have created some ambiguous connection between me and their recent murder case. The victim used to be my patient, so they’ve been trying to visit me for a while but I kept putting it off- I really don’t like when they visit my workplace-”

“Of course,” you nodded. “No one would like that. You don’t have to explain it to me, Yunho. You don’t have to tell me anything-”

“Forget the rules,” he clicked his tongue in annoyance. “I want to explain because you can’t just put yourself between me and the detectives. How could you try to protect me without knowing what’s going on? And don’t try to deny that you weren’t doing exactly that.”

You took a bite and thought about it while you chewed. Once you swallowed, you answered. “I’ve known Detective Seo for twenty years. I’ve known you for what? Four months? Five? Guess who I trust more out of the two.”

Yunho looked away, somewhat in disbelief but again, overwhelmed by the way his heart was fluttering and his stomach was in knots. “Even when I’ve given you nothing?”

“It’s enough- I don’t need to hear your life story to trust you,” you finished eating the noodles. “I know who you are, and that’s enough.”

Yunho sighed internally- Wooyoung had warned him of this. He had practically manifested it. He had told Yunho that the way he talked about you and the way he treated you were very different and he needed to start manning up and ignoring whatever he was feeling inside. That had been in the earlier months. And now?

You claimed you knew him. What did you know, really? The person who set strict rules and got angry when he thought you broke one of them and made you cry? The doctor who got angry at you for bringing a patient to his clinic and later thanking you because you saved her from something worse? The person who took you to the place he loved yet told you nothing about it? What did you really know-

“I know you,” you began and Yunho wondered if he had said those thoughts out loud. “You’re the person who I thought was an asshole but I trusted because you… you have the kindest eyes. Even when you almost stabbed me to death-”

“That’s on you overthinking-”

“Yeah, I’m joking,” you laughed. “But… you get what I mean. I don’t need to know who you were, I know who you are. The doctor who’s too busy to take care of himself and his space. The person who’s everyone’s favourite at the clinic. The house owner who’s actually quite funny but takes a while to open up. The friend who helps me with my work in so many more ways than he realises. And… the man who is surprisingly protective and caring.”

Yunho buried his face in his hands- he couldn’t look at you now. He couldn’t-

“I don’t know why you keep holding yourself back, but can I ask what prompted you to do whatever you did earlier? You didn’t have to hug me like that,” you drank the rest of the water in the glass, waiting but he didn’t look at you. “You didn’t have to call me ‘your girl’ and shoo them away. You can’t just do things like that and expect me to remain normal and pretend it didn’t happen the next day- because I’ve had enough too. I’ve had enough of you staring at me like I’m either someone you want to kill or someone you want to… do things to. Also, while we’re talking about that- and yes, I’m rambing, but you really need to stop touching me so casually- I hope you have a rule about that somewhere too-”

Yunho finally removed his hands from his face and locked eyes with you. When you didn’t look away, wondering if you were going to regret this, he got up, making your heart sink thinking you really had made an awful mistake this time-

And then he leaned down towards you and to your utter surprise, he pecked your lips gently- once, twice. And then he pulled away to lock eyes with your wide ones.

“Can I take responsibility then? For my actions?”

When you nodded without realising that you had, he smiled, going around the table and sinking down to his knees. For you. You found your hands moving of their own accord, cupping his face with almost trembling hands for the first time and running a hand through his hair, finding them softer than you had imagined. You laughed in disbelief and knelt down to kiss his forehead- you didn’t have to kneel down much thanks to him being so tall. You joined your foreheads and just let that moment sink in, waiting for him to do something but it was as if he had completely submitted himself to you.

“Yunho,” you breathed, “Won’t you kiss me?”

All Yunho wanted was to obey. He tilted his head, your lips brushing and then he brought his hands to your bare knees, sending shivers through your entire being. While he caressed the skin, he pecked your lips cautiously and you almost cried at how hesitant he was. You took it upon yourself to lock your lips with his and that was all he needed to kiss you back, immediately taking lead and kissing you almost desperately as if he had waited a lifetime for this moment. You moved your lips along his, settling in a comfortable rhythm and you realised you quite liked the position-

But Yunho had other plans. He broke apart, gripping your legs in one arm and getting up, making you latch on to him with a squeal which earned a laugh from him as he settled you on the empty kitchen counter, now able to meet your eyes better. He stared at you intently for a few moments, his arms caging you between them and brought your arms to rest on his shoulders, linking them around his neck.

“I’d say something about how it took you way too long,” you kissed the tip of his nose. “But I’m afraid you’ll think I’ve always fantasised about this and leave me here and go in your cave.”

“Never again,” he promised, capturing your lips in a slow and gentle kiss. You had all the time in the world now and a morbid part of your mind wanted to thank Detective Seo for paying a visit tonight even though you despised him. Yunho swiped his tongue across your lips and you gladly opened up for him, the kiss getting heated as his tongue explored your mouth, clashing with your tongue. You couldn’t help but marvel how you both fit with each other so well.

You didn’t know how long you made out like that. Neither did you care, but naturally, you both broke apart and shared a giggle. He opened his arms for you and you gladly hugged him- his hugs were probably your most favourite thing about life now. He laughed at how you wrapped yourself around him like a cat so that he didn’t even have to hold you, simply wrap his arms around your back as he walked to the living room but you muttered ‘my room’ and he obeyed, walking in that direction-

And halting.

“What do you want me to do? Throw you in the pool of books and make out? Might hurt a little…”

“Oh, goodness,” you twisted in his arms to see the mess that your room was in right now. “I was sorting out books because I really have no space anymore and I was going to give away some tonight-”

“But you could put them in the living room? The shelves have some space?”

You hadn’t even considered that. You looked at him. “Can I use that space?”

“I mean… you’ve taken over the whole floor anyway,” he shrugged. “What harm a few books are gonna do?”

You smacked his arm and he laughed, putting you down on the floor. “Well, I should clean my mess then. Don’t want you complaining about how unruly your housemate is.”

“I’ll help,” he insisted and you scoffed.

“There’s no space for you to set a foot-”

“Then make some.”

“Oh?” You shot him a dirty look. “No plans to leave?”

“Do you want me to leave?” He asked cockily and you shook your head, immediately shoving a few books away and making space on the rug where he settled down and pulled you down in his lap, snuggling his face in your neck.

“Tell me about these books,” he muttered, his breath caressing your neck and before you could comment on the position, he kissed your neck lazily.

Well… perhaps it was better to shut up and obey.

“They are a part of me,” you smiled, picking the nearest one and reading the title while he continued kissing and sucking at your neck. “This one I read recently. I think you’ll like it- it’s about doctors- ah.”

Yunho smiled against your neck when you squirmed in his grasp. He had been teasing your sweet spot for far too long now and finally got to hear your pretty moan. “Really? What’s it about?”

“Doctors,” you muttered, tilting your neck and he dived back in. “And the problems they face, the power dynamics- Jeong Yunho, I swear to god-”

Yunho laughed deeply against your skin, drawing away to observe the reddening spot. You tried shifting in his grasp but he held you in your position. “Tell me about another book.”

“Yeah?” You scoffed when he started peppering kisses along your shoulders. “What if I just smack you on the head with one?”

“Tsk, tsk. Already?”

You shifted in his lap successfully this time and before you could yell at him, he was kissing you on the lips again and as you melted in his hold, you tossed the book in your hand away to cup his face.

Sorting the books and cleaning the mess could definitely wait.

—-----------------------------

Though you and Yunho had crossed some obvious boundaries now, you were unsure how that would affect the rules of living in his house. You weren’t only his housemate now, so perhaps, the rules could change?

You started wondering about that after a few days. You hadn’t made anything official yet- he was still working a lot and barely had any time for himself but whenever he got home, he would find you and wrap you in his arms while he asked you about your day. When you asked him the same, he would simply smile and say something like ‘just the usual’ or ‘busy day today’.

Nothing more. He probably recognised the look in your eyes- the look that said that you wanted more. Perhaps he ignored it on purpose. Perhaps, whenever he kissed you after, it was to make up for the lack of an answer.

If you thought about it objectively… you didn’t really mind. Work is work- what could doctors really share about their work? But you knew he wasn’t simply going to work, especially when he sometimes came home looking like he had been running for miles or with blood on his clothes. Surely, doctors wore a gown or something while operating or handling patients. His lab coat never had blood on it, so why would he have blood on his clothes and why would he sometimes look like he got in a fight? He could definitely feel your apprehension even though you pretended to be okay about it.

Perhaps, he liked you because you didn’t ask. That didn’t mean you weren’t curious- now more so than ever. It wasn’t like being whatever you were to him now gave you any right to probe, but you couldn’t help pay a visit to his clinic tonight and see if he was really working a night shift- he had gone out in a rush earlier muttering something about an emergency. You only went to make sure he was okay, was what you told yourself-

It was certainly not because of your growing suspicion of what he really did. Nor was it because you wanted to double-check how Detective Seo told you that Yunho’s clinic had separate staff for night shifts and he definitely didn’t need to be present every night. It definitely wasn’t because Yeosang slipped when he accidentally told you Yunho had no shift a few nights ago when Yunho himself had told you he had one. And it definitely was not how you suddenly realised one day while writing your novel that Yunho’s answers to your odd questions were a bit too specific- like when you asked him about being stabbed in a certain location with a certain weapon and he slept on it and had a rather specific answer the next day. His answers were always a bit too detailed.

You would have ignored all of it but you found yourself inside the clinic and learned from the kind lady at the reception who thought it was cute that you came to check on him that Yunho only had one night shift a week. But according to what he told you, he had night shifts five days a week.

Just what was he doing?

You absently walked home and instead of writing, you just mindlessly cleaned the nooks and crannies in the living room, your mind too numb to think of possibilities. Perhaps, you needed to start defining things with Yunho- beginning with what your relationship was, exactly, and if it was more than housemates you both definitely needed to talk about a few things-

When you heard the door unlock, you looked at the time- it was almost 4 in the morning. You hadn’t realised how quickly time passed. Yunho entered, looking pretty much the same as he did when he left. You managed a smile and he told you he would be right back, rushing upstairs. You went to wash your hands in the meantime, wondering if you should ask him- would he be angry to learn you went out looking for him? Would he appreciate your concern, or would he shut himself away like he has always done-

“Y/n?” Yunho’s voice brought you back to your senses and you realised you had been zoning out in front of the sink, the tap still running water. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired,” you told him, drying your hands and going towards the kitchen to get yourself water. You needed to get a grip.

“You don’t look okay,” Yunho’s brows were furrowed in concern. “Did something happen while I was away?”

“I promise I’m fine,” you said, though you were sure your smile was still unconvincing- or maybe Yunho was just too good at looking right through you. “How was your night shift? Did you get a lot of patients tonight?”

“It was okay,” Yunho exhaled deeply. “A few. Not too busy.”

You nodded slowly. For a moment, you wondered if he was doing night shifts in a different workplace. Perhaps, he had never lied and you just hadn’t figured out that he had jobs at two different places-

“You’re staring,” Yunho commented, tilting his head in thought. You broke eye contact, scanning his clothes- as neat as when he left for ‘work’. “You didn’t meet Detective Seo, did you?”

“No, why?”

“That’s the only time I’ve seen you look like this. Come on, you’re making me worried,” Yunho took a step closer, tucking your hair behind your ear. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid,” you laughed, deciding to tackle at least one thing tonight. “You’ll make fun of me or you'll shut yourself in your cave.”

“You need to stop calling it a cave,” Yunho laughed a bit.

“Until I see it, it’s a cave to me,” you shrugged. “Who knows what you do there?”

“You want to see it?” He asked, absently caressing your cheekbone and your eyes widened.

“That… is not what I meant- I’m curious, yes, but I don’t want to invite myself up there.”

“Well,” Yunho put his hands on your shoulders. “It looks horrible right now- it’s messy and if I bring you upstairs, you’ll forget you’re tired and start cleaning the mess. Some other day?”

“Whenever is okay, it’s probably boring and plain,” you said dismissively and he nodded in satisfaction.

“Then what is really weighing on your mind?”

“Shit, I thought you forgot about it,” you muttered but he wasn’t going to let you go. His grip on your shoulders tightened a fraction. “Look, I’m not trying to be that person and I really, really don’t mind how we are and what we are-”

“Get to the point-”

“What are we?”

Yunho blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“What are we?” You sighed. “I love what we are. I don’t mind it one bit, but I feel like we’re still housemates and there’s still this wall between us and if that’s how things should be… I can work with that. I just… I wish there wasn’t such ambiguity- stop grinning like an idiot, will you?”

“Well,” Yunho stifled another grin. “What do you think we are?”

“I don’t know,” you pouted. “That’s what I’m asking.”

“I don’t know,” Yunho shrugged, straightening and bringing you closer so you were almost flush against him. “I don’t think we’d be doing this if we were ‘just housemates’.”

“My point exactly,” you muttered. “I’m confused. What rules still apply? Can I interfere in your personal life? Can I ask you more than I should? There’s still so much I don’t know about you and sometimes I feel like you’re miles away, Yunho.”

Yunho’s heart ached- he wanted nothing more than to bare his entire soul in front of you. He had considered that seriously over the past few days. He was pretty sure if anyone in this world would understand his reasons for what he did and still want to be with him, it would be you, but what if he was wrong about you? What if he had signed himself to an inevitable heartbreak? If so, how could he ever recover?

“I’m right here,” Yunho kissed your forehead. “You can ask me anything but can I answer at my pace?”

That was enough. You nodded and he smiled, pecking your lips. “Thank you.”

“I’ll wait for you,” you told him. “And I know you’re curious about a few things too- you can ask me anything and I’ll answer at my own pace. Okay?”

Yunho couldn’t help it- he cupped your face and kissed you, wondering how you were so perfect. How could you trust him like this? He sometimes wondered if he was dreaming- there was no way you were real. And he told you that every day, just like he did now, and just like always, you smacked his arm as you blushed.

“You should tell me something else- I’m kind of tired of hearing that,” you laughed.

“Nothing else makes you laugh like this,” Yunho kissed you again, lingering. “You know I love it when you laugh.”

You kissed him back, forgetting all your worries and you felt the exhaustion wash away from your bones as he bent down to pick you up so he could kiss you better. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let him take you to the living room- to the couch which was probably your favourite place in this house now, where Yunho and you would spend hours with each other.

As he settled you down on the couch, he broke apart and locked eyes with you. “Well, do you still think we’re just housemates?”

“God, you really got stuck on that one, huh?” You poked his chest. “Okay. You’re what? My boyfriend?”

Yunho’s lips parted and a smile crawled on his lips. “I kind of like the sound of that.”

“Geez, have you never been in a relationship,” you teased and he laughed out loud.

“Just not like this one, no,” he traced your lips with his thumb. “You’re… different.”

“Bet you told that to everyone before me,” you scoffed and he pecked your lips to shut you up. You smiled into the kiss, your hands wandering down his chest and stopping at his hips, snaking up his shirt on his bare skin which earned a light groan from him. You instinctively squeezed his side-

And he stopped kissing you right then. You wondered if you had done something wrong and when you drew apart, you realised he looked as if he was in pain. You frowned, your hands still there while Yunho stifled another groan and when you pressed on both his sides, he finally exhaled-

“You’re hurt, aren’t you?” You whispered, drawing his shirt up without permission and gasping when you saw a big red bruise on his right side as if he had been punched.

“Y/n,” Yunho called in warning but you weren’t having any of it anymore- you pulled his shirt up and if Yunho hadn’t been bracing himself up on either sides of you to keep himself from falling on top of you, he would have stopped you, but now you were staring at his upper body in horror and worry.

You let go of the shirt and it fell down to cover his secrets. You looked at Yunho who couldn’t meet your eyes. “Won’t you let me help you? Won’t you let me take care of you?”

Yunho simply sighed, wondering what to do, what to say. He knew this day would come eventually but he hadn’t imagined it to be like this. He let you gently push him back on the couch and without a word, you went to your room. He slumped down, rubbing his face-

Of all the days, it had to be today. Had to be tonight when he made a mistake and hurt himself. You reappeared out of your room with a medical kit and settled down next to him.

“You’re the doctor, Yunho,” you said and showed him the ointments and medicines in the kit, noticing a number of scars on his body and finally getting a good look at the scar that ran up his arm all the way to the middle of his upper arm. “Tell me how to take care of you.”

Yunho passed you a look, finding the lack of expressions on your face kind of disturbing. Just what were you thinking? He sighed and took out the ointment for the bruise- one he had in his room as well and would have used had he not been distracted by you. You nodded and took the ointment, spreading it along his bruise and gently rubbing it in. Once done, you got up and inspected the rest of his upper body.

“Are you sure that’s the only place you’re hurt?”

“Yep,” he assured you. “You can relax now.”

You scoffed at that, putting the kit aside and folding your arms as you looked at him. “Look… If you don’t want me to, I won’t ask, but you’re not just a doctor. I’m right about that, aren’t I?”

When he didn’t respond, you understood. You were right, and he probably couldn’t say anything. “Do you trust me, Yunho?”

“Y/n, it’s not about trust-”

“Just tell me- do you trust me?”

He locked eyes with you. “Of course I do. If I didn’t… I would have kicked you out long ago, y/n, and I would have never....”

That seemed to satisfy you and when he found the faintest hint of a smile on your lips, he finally relaxed a bit. “I trust you, but there are things I cannot tell you- not right now.”

“I know,” you nodded. “You can stop lying about your night shifts- just say you’re going somewhere. I won’t ask until you tell me.”

Yunho blinked in surprise- just how long ago had you figured him out?

“Also… I would appreciate it if the next time you get hurt, you let me know instead of surprising me like this.”

“Do you… know something you’re not telling me, y/n?”

You smiled at Yunho. If he wasn’t so genuine with his words and his feelings, you would have demanded answers, but what you had with him was special in its own way. No questions asked wasn’t such a bad rule- because you knew that when he answered your questions, you would have to answer his too.

“Do I? I don’t know,” you shrugged. “But I have a feeling that you and I aren’t so different, Yunho.”

Yunho wished he could tell you who he was- his friends insisted he was not a ‘murderer’ like he would often call himself but a vigilante. A hero to most, an enemy to the others- especially the police who had been on his tail for a while now. How could you possibly be the same as him? He had killed people with his own hands, and though it could be argued that he only killed the worst of criminals, if Hongjoong hadn’t been there the night his parents were killed, he could very well be in prison for attempted murder or worse.

All these years, as he killed one corrupted individual after another, he was convinced that he was the one who was truly corrupted inside. He was the one who needed to meet the fate that anyone who encountered him did. His friends, especially Hongjoong, were aware that there was a twisted part inside him that took joy in the simple act of killing people- people who stole from others. Stole their loved ones, their life, their hard work. You couldn’t possibly be as bad as him, could you? There was absolutely no way-

“Stop thinking so much,” you whispered, placing your hand on his and he immediately shifted so he was holding your hand, squeezing it as if he needed some assurance. “I just want you to be careful, okay? Whatever you do… stay safe, will you?”

“How can you trust me so blindly?” Yunho asked.

“I told you, right?” You smiled. “I know who you are- at least to me. That’s enough for me.”

Yunho smiled back, burying his face in the crook of your neck and you wrapped your arm around his bare shoulders, burying your hand in his hair and caressing them gently. You let go of Yunho’s hand only to trace the long scar on his arm, wishing you could ask how he got it but you would wait. You kissed his temple and he sighed, nuzzling against you.

“I’m afraid…” Yunho confessed in a voice so small you were wondering if you were hearing things. “I’m afraid you’ll run away when you learn who I am.”

Your heart sank at his words. He was just like you. In all your previous relationships, you made people run away from you. You could never give them what you wanted. They would find you too secretive or too accepting. Little did they know that you were only hiding your ugly past and trying your best not to let it interfere with your life.

“You couldn’t possibly be worse than me,” you told him and that prompted him to lift his head to look at you. “I’m convinced I’m a monster. Could you love a monster, Yunho?”

Yunho took in your blank gaze as you said those words and he realised that perhaps, you were right. Perhaps, you were just like him too, with some twisted part inside you, something that had you convinced that you were a monster.

And if that was the case… he could love you. He wanted nothing more than to love you and tell you that you made him feel human even at his worst, so he leaned forward to kiss you slowly, letting you know what he felt through the way he held your waist and brought you on top of him, through the way he held you so close to him and sighed when you wrapped your arms around his, through the way he started trailing kisses everywhere on your skin. And when you gave him more, he accepted it. If that was the last time you would ever look at him and not feel horrified, he was going to make sure he made you feel loved so he forgot about all his worries and smiled at you playfully, beyond relieved when you bit your lips in excitement.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Yunho whispered, sucking at your neck- he had a thing for that certain spot, you had realised now.

“We haven’t even begun, though,” you commented and Yunho paused, considering your words. He experimentally snaked his hand up your thigh and when you only kissed his temple in response, he understood.

An invitation.

“Shall we take this to bed, then?”

You nodded, sharing an open-mouthed kiss before he got up and started going towards your room.

If only he knew that your invitation was for the same reasons as his.

—---------------------------

For all your talk about trust, you sure were walking on the fine line that marked trust from betrayal.

And if things hadn’t turned out the way they had been turning out for the past two weeks, you would have never been here. You scoffed internally as you took another turn into a dark alley, a safe distance behind Yunho so he wouldn’t notice your presence- anything to convince yourself that you were only doing this to make sure he would be safe. To make sure he wouldn’t hurt himself again-

Because you had a gut feeling that something was going to happen tonight, and your gut was never, ever wrong. Your gut had saved (or doomed, it could be argued) you two decades ago. You could trust yourself with that.

Though, again, that was debatable as well. Was it your gut that had you all nervous and hypervigilant or was it the growing suspicions about Yunho?

Because a few days ago, Detective Seo called you and requested that you visit the station. You would have ignored him had he not been so polite for once. Ultimately, the reason you visited him was because you wanted to clear his suspicions of you and get him off your tail- you had finally settled in this town at peace and you couldn’t have the detective ruining that.

And also, a small part of you wanted to learn more about why he suspected Yunho.

You discovered during your visit that you were right- your involvement in his investigation of Yunho made him suspicious of you. You learned that the reason he was so intent on having Yunho come to the station and give a proper statement was because a few of his alibis no longer held any validity- he had said something about a night shift when he had none. The detective didn’t like how the doctors and a few of the staff members around him were so uncooperative and secretive. If that wasn’t enough, the detective was still curious about the 12-inch knife in your kitchen.

He joked about how he or his colleagues didn’t own a 12-inch meat knife at home- apparently a non-professional one was usually 7 to 10 inches long. You told him that it was irrelevant but when he mentioned how his suspect had stopped using kitchen knives a few months ago and switched to a dagger of a unique built, it had you wondering-

The detective didn’t know those knives actually belonged to Yunho, which was why he was also suspecting you now. What if you told him? What if the timing of the change of the murder weapon matched?

You only asked the detective if he really believed you were capable of wielding daggers and he shook his head in denial. You then asked if he really thought the surgeon could be a suspect in his case.

“I can’t tell you what it is, but we have substantial evidence to keep an eye on him, at least. If it’s him, he’s not alone.”

And that’s what got you thinking if you were wrong about who Yunho and his friends were. Especially when only a couple days later you went to visit them at the clinic with some fresh cookies and you got a peek at the register at reception that had a schedule of all doctors and you learned that Yunho had no night shift for the rest of the week-

Only to find him lying about it and hearing the news about the murder of a renowned politician while he was god knows where.

You didn’t ask Yunho why he lied about the night shift because he had agreed not to make up that excuse again. You casually confirmed with Wooyoung if he had really been at the clinic that night and he told you he had, but you weren’t done there. You double-checked with the young girl at reception in the clinic- she was quite a fan of your cookies and now that she knew you and Yunho were close, she willingly confirmed that Yunho had indeed not been at the clinic that night. Neither had any of his friends.

You wished you could simply confront Yunho and ask but he was still hesitant. And really, you would have let everything be. You would have waited for him, but tonight?

Tonight he told you he was going to the clinic to meet up with Wooyoung and give him some company during his boring night shift. Pretty believable, but your gut twisted as soon as he stepped out and you knew that you just had to make sure that he was going to the clinic. You covered yourself with a jacket and scarf, grabbed the keys and wore your shoes-

Changing your mind and going to the kitchen to grab a little something before finally stepping out.

And that’s how you got here, one bus ride and a good walk later, deep in some abandoned part of the town following Yunho through the alleys until he stopped abruptly, making you take a few steps back and hide yourself in a corner. Strangely, Yunho seemed to be inspecting the area. What for, you didn’t know. He looked around and checked if the gate at the end of the alley was really locked. After thorough inspection which made you wonder if he was looking for someone or something, he started walking in your direction, probably to leave. You discreetly slid down and away so he would cross you without looking in your direction, and thankfully, he did.

You sighed, wondering if tonight had been a waste in which case your guilty conscience wouldn’t let you sleep for a good few days unless you came clean to Yunho. You were just following him back because you were pretty sure you would get lost otherwise when you spotted another man at the opposite end of the street. Instinctively, you hid again and waited for the man to continue along that street and get out of your way-

Except he turned in the street in Yunho’s direction.

You made a face and decided to fall behind the two- surely the man would be on his own way soon, except there was something odd about the way he was walking-

He was walking just like you had been- short, quick and silent steps, a good distance behind Yunho to avoid encountering him. Was he following Yunho too? How did he know Yunho would be here? Had he seen you- did he know you were here? It was too dark to make out who he was.

The two turned to another street and the man kept following him even after the crossroads, confirming your suspicions that Yunho was being followed. Perhaps, Yunho had been waiting for this man when he had been looking around the alley-

A sharp glint near the man’s thigh caught your attention and with a sinking heart, you realised-

The man was wielding a weapon. Something sharp that looked an awful lot like the very knife you had hidden inside your jacket.

You froze for a few moments that you knew would cost you something. There was just too much to consider- the feeling of impending doom, the worry for Yunho’s life, the fight-or-flight response making its way to control your future actions and worst of all, the feeling that you were back where you had been when you were still a child trying to protect your father from a situation just like this.

And as the man’s pace quickened and the distance between him and Yunho got shorter, you let the child that had murdered a grown man to protect a loved one take over. Just like that night, you raised your knife in the air without realising when you actually took it out of your jacket. And just like that time, you found yourself running towards the man- this time, experienced and calculating. You would have to congratulate yourself for being so certain about what you were doing-

“Yunho, watch out!”

Though Yunho recognised your voice immediately, the fear in your voice was unfamiliar and he turned around with dread pooling in his nerves, his eyes widening as he tried to process an unfamiliar face of a man with a weapon aimed at him- way too close- and then your figure, perhaps as unfamiliar this time, running towards the man. Yunho instinctively dodged the attack and before he could react further, you collided with the man, crashing on the floor with grunts.

Every nerve in your body screamed as you both clawed at each other while trying not to hurt yourselves, getting nicked here and there and before the man could actually think and overpower you, you buried the length of your knife between his collarbones, effectively disarming him and the man’s eyes widened as he whimpered in pain-

No.

“Y/n,” Yunho almost cried as he sank down next to you, spotting the horror in your eyes and in that moment, he knew only one thing- that he couldn’t let you burden yourself with having to live with blood on your hands. He inspected the stab on the man’s neck, sucking in his breath when he realised the knife in your hand was from your kitchen- the same damned knife he had spilled blood with. The man coughed blood and your grip on the knife finally loosened as you realised just what you had done.

While you remained frozen in your spot, Yunho realised that the man was beyond help though with the current position of the knife in his throat, he was going to bleed to death for a long while before he could let go. So Yunho made a decision and gently unwrapped your hands from the knife, squeezing them to make you look at him.

“Y/n? Are you with me?”

His voice felt miles away, drowned by the ringing in your ears and you could only blink. Yunho took a deep, shaky breath. “Do you trust me?”

You didn’t know how long you stared at him but he gently shook your shoulder, making you crawl away from the shivering body of the man. “Y/n, do you trust me?”

This time, you did hear him and you nodded slowly, still in a trance. “Yunho- save him, please-”

Yunho had his answer. He slid the knife out of the spot between his collarbones only to stab him on another spot in his neck not far from the original and you watched in horror as the man groaned once before falling limp. Yunho put a hand over the wounds as if that could possibly stop the bleeding and then he asked you to take off your scarf. You weren’t sure you heard him right but with his free hand he started to unwind the scarf from around your neck. You didn’t make any effort to help him- you simply watched him wrap your scarf around his neck to stop further bleeding-

“He’s dead,” you practically spat out. “Why do you need to stop the bleeding now?”

Yunho didn’t answer. Once his hands were free, he bent down to pick the man and started walking back to the alley, stopping when he realised you weren’t following him. He turned to look at you, eyes void of emotions. “Aren’t you going to come?”

You got up with immense struggle, looking around- why was there no one to help? Why was this abandoned area so empty in the middle of the night? You grabbed the man’s knife and started following Yunho, your hands and legs shaking uncontrollably and each step got harder to take. When you reached the spot Yunho had checked out earlier, he laid the man’s body down and you finally sank to the floor, drawing your knees to your chest and trying to breathe. You could hear him talking into the phone to someone, giving them the address.

All you knew was that you had killed someone. Again. And this time, your father wasn’t there to protect you and take the blame. This time, you weren’t a child who needed such protection. You were an adult and you had killed-

You felt arms wrap around your figure and you finally let out a shaky sob though your eyes remained dry. Yunho rubbed your back and asked you to breathe with him, drawing away and rubbing your cold hands in his to share some warmth- though his were just as cold. You could only see the blood on your hands, on your clothes-

“Y/n, listen to me carefully,” his deep voice echoed inside you. “You didn’t kill the man, okay?”

“You’re lying,” your teeth were chattering with cold and fear now. “I killed him.”

“No,” Yunho shook his head. “You protected me. I killed him.”

“You can’t do this to me, not you too,” you finally cried. “Not you too. I killed again, and this time, I’ll take responsibility.”

Yunho took a moment to process what you had said as he scanned your figure- everything finally started to make sense though there was still so much he needed answers to. “Listen to me. You didn’t deliver the killing blow. I did. I’m the one who killed him.”

“You and I both know he would have died anyway,” you locked eyes with him and Yunho knew then that it was no use trying to convince you that you weren’t to blame. “You just made it easier for him.”

Yunho didn’t respond to that. He simply kept rubbing your hands as if that could turn back time and make things right. When you heard the sound of footsteps, you got tense and almost panicked but Yunho assured you it was just his friends and everything would be okay soon. You watched Wooyoung and Mingi assess the situation, not reacting much and numbly, you let Wooyoung accompany you to his car. You kept looking for Yunho though and Wooyoung smiled a bit despite the situation, assuring you that he would be right there.

While on your way, Wooyoung made sure you were warm and made you eat a few bites of chocolate, telling you you would need it. You asked him how he was so calm right now- was it not his first time that something like this happened?

“Something tells me it’s not your first time either, y/n,” he simply responded and you fell silent after that.

You shut your eyes and let your mind wander about what was going to happen next. Sure, you felt a sense of security being around Yunho- he had done something you could never have imagined- but there was still a small part of you thinking about how this was the end for you. You were going to go to prison. Perhaps you would meet the same fate as your father. Your mother and brother would certainly be pleased to see you behind bars. You could hear their laughter and the ‘I told you so’ even now-

“Y/n?” Yunho’s gentle voice made you open your eyes. “We’re here.”

You looked at ‘here’ which was another abandoned area with dimly lit streets and a warehouse which Hongjoong was unlocking the doors of. Yunho helped you out of the car- you definitely needed that since your legs were still wobbly. You noticed that not everyone made it back and you asked him where they were.

“They’re taking a detour- they’ll be here in a few minutes.”

You nodded and followed him inside and if the circumstances would have been different, you could have appreciated how well organised the inside of the warehouse was, looking like a home with couches and games and fridge and enough space to do anything and everything. It looked like a hideout and you smiled faintly before sitting on the couch. Hongjoong brought you beer and you gladly accepted, taking a few gulps and letting Wooyoung wrap a blanket around you, letting Yunho clean the blood off your hands and spotting the cuts littering your hands and arms. Now that there was enough light, he could spot the numbness in your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, suddenly breaking out of your trance. “Are you? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m okay,” he breathed. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m good, I…” you looked at your scarred hands. “I’m… okay.”

“Y/n,” Yunho took your hands in his again and you met his worried eyes. “How did you know? Why did you follow me?”

“I… I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” you sighed and he squeezed your hands. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright, but I need to know what happened tonight so I can help you, okay?” Yunho said and you nodded, straightening.

“I knew you had no night shift today- I saw in the register by chance,” you told him and he nodded. “So when you said you were going, I knew you were lying. I would have let you go, trust me, but… I had a feeling something was about to happen. Or maybe… maybe I was just too suspicious- because Detective Seo said if it was you, you weren’t alone-”

“You met Detective Seo again?” He asked, his tone still gentle but you spotted Seonghwa looking at you apprehensively. “Why?”

“He called me to the station a few days ago because he was suspicious of me- the knives,” you let out a nervous laugh and Yunho nodded, understanding. “He told me his suspect’s murder weapon and method had changed and the timing was just a bit off. He knew it couldn’t be me but we have history so he just needed to make sure.”

“Did you tell him about Yunho- or anything?” Seonghwa asked.

Yunho gently warned Seonghwa but you told him it was okay. “He doesn’t know the knives belong to Yunho and he is just suspecting him because apparently your alibis are invalid now. That’s all he’s got on you, actually.”

They all sighed in relief and you heard the doors open, the rest of them joining you and exchanging drinks. “You’re all oddly calm about all of this.”

“We’re doctors,” Yeosang commented. “We have to be calm at times like this.”

“You’re oddly calm too,” San noticed.

“That’s what I said,” Wooyoung quipped in and Yunho asked you if the boys were overwhelming you but you shook your head no.

“Can you tell me what happened next? Why did you follow me?”

You took a deep breath. “I said Detective Seo and I have history. When I was little… about two decades ago, I… we lived in a small town, the four of us. My father was in debt and he often had to run away from gangsters and loan sharks. One day, he got cornered by one of the men and he had a gun- he looked like he was about to shoot my dad. My mom was protecting us- me and my brother, but I… I did what I could to protect him. I went to the kitchen, grabbed the first knife I saw and stabbed that man multiple times in the back.”

“Oh, y/n,” Yunho’s voice sounded pained and you heard a chorus of sucked breaths and exhales. Your hands started trembling again and Yunho squeezed them, planting a kiss to your knuckles which just made tears pool in your eyes.

“I did that to protect him,” your voice was just as shaky as your hands now. “That man died and my father ended up taking all the blame to protect me from the police. Detective Seo was in charge of that case and he always suspected me- especially because my mother and brother started hating me for putting my dad in such a situation. He found all of it odd. So tonight… I had a feeling just like that night- like something bad was about to happen. Or maybe I’m just making up that excuse to cover the fact that I betrayed your trust and followed you to see just what you were up to-”

“No,” Yunho embraced you, planting a kiss on top of your head. “Even if you followed me because you were suspicious, you were right to do so. I shouldn’t have lied about the night shift- anyone would have suspected me after that. It just slipped- it’s my fault.”

“It’s not,” you wiped your eyes, drawing away. “I shouldn’t have followed you-”

“You saved me,” Yunho smiled at you. “Your gut feeling, your suspicions… they were right. If it weren’t for you-”

“But I killed him,” you cried. “You cannot take the blame for it now.”

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “We’ve uh… identified the man. Yunho, you might want to tell her who you really are.”

Yunho nodded, wiping your tears away. “Do you want to stay here? Or do you want to go home?”

“I think I’d like to go home… if that’s alright with you guys,” you said and the boys assured you that it was. Yunho got up and took the car keys from Seonghwa, sharing a few words with him and Wooyoung and Mingi asked you if you needed anything. You told them you were fine but you would like to be in the comfort of your own home right now and they understood.

“If Yunho bothers you too much, you can call us,” Mingi teased. “We’ll take care of him.”

“I think it’s the other way round, but thank you,” you finally laughed. “Can I ask- what will happen to that man? The body…”

“Yunho will let you know- you don’t have to worry about anything,” Wooyoung assured you and when Yunho extended his hand, you took a deep breath and took it.

You were going home, and you were finally going to learn who Yunho was.

—--------------------------

It was surreal to enter your home now, Yunho by your side and the weight of the events from the past few hours hanging over your shoulders. You both went to change first and you found yourself unable to look at your reflection in the mirror as you washed your face and hands. You took a few deep breaths to calm down, as best as you could manage in that moment before leaving and finding the smell of chamomile tea in the living room. Yunho motioned for you to join him on the couch and you passed a tight-lipped smile before obeying. You sipped the tea and waited for Yunho to gather his thoughts.

“When I was in high school,” Yunho finally began and you shifted towards him to watch him. “One night, a serial killer decided my parents were his next victims. He followed my mom home and killed both of them, and I… I wasn’t home- by the time I came home, he was done killing them.”

“Oh, dear,” you held Yunho’s hand. You couldn’t imagine what he must have felt.

“I saw him leaving,” Yunho sighed deeply. “Hongjoong was with me- he witnessed everything. He tried to stop me from going after the killer but I grabbed a metal rod and went after the man. He had a knife and that’s how I got this scar,” Yunho pointed at his arm. “Hongjoong saved me that night but I lost a part of me that night. A part that was human. I became almost animalistic, trying to find the killer.”

“Did you ever find him then?” You asked.

“I did, but after he died,” Yunho slumped back on the couch. “I couldn’t get my revenge. It wasn’t long after that incident. I lost my mind and was about to become the very killer I hated. Hongjoong saved me yet again- he knew that I wouldn’t stop at anything now. I was getting into a lot of fights and basically ruining my life.”

“How did he save you then?”

“He handed me a dagger and told me to do what I must with it,” Yunho admitted. “I was shocked because usually he was the one hiding anything that could become a weapon from me. But then I realised that I was only trying to protect innocent people like my parents. I would aimlessly walk the streets and help anyone who needed it.”

“That’s… very you,” you smiled and Yunho shook his head.

“I’m not a good person, though,” he said. “Somehow, we found each other, the eight of us. We select targets- corrupt politicians, rapists, offenders… especially the people who are public figures and lead double lives. We send hints to the police so they can do their job but when they don’t… we take the matter into our own hands.”

“Oh,” you frowned. “The politician a few days ago-”

“Not me,” Yunho shook his head. “Though he was my next target.”

“So you… kill them?”

“We only kill when someone is powerful enough to get away with all their crimes,” Yunho admitted and your heart sank dangerously- hearing it from his own mouth now, it finally started to feel real.

“Isn’t that… okay?” You wondered. “The police can’t do anything and they would only cause further harm if they are alive.”

“Yes, but…” Yunho tucked your hair behind your ear. “I shouldn’t enjoy it so much, should I? I think I’m twisted like that, y/n. I feel no remorse.”

You looked at him- how could you tell him that you understood? That you were okay with that? He would tell you over and over again that it was wrong, because he knew that too. You knew that too, yet…

“It’s kind of ironic then, that you all are doctors, right?” You finally said and he coughed, making you laugh a little- more in disbelief than in amusement. “So all your night shifts…?”

“We meet up at the warehouse to plan and work on new cases,” Yunho said.

“And the man that I…”

“We identified him- the boys are digging up further but we’re suspecting he’s the copycat killer.”

“The copycat killer?” You repeated in disbelief. “Copying who- oh.”

Yunho pursed his lips guiltily. “Those kitchen knives… they were murder weapons. Now you know why I got so angry when you used them to cook.”

“Oh, goodness-”

“Don’t worry, I sanitised them,” he said as if that could make things better. “When I stopped using them, someone kept murdering people with similar weapons. And not just carefully selected scum- innocent people. It was why Detective Seo suspected me at first and then let me go easily because it just didn’t match. He probably figured out that someone is copying the real killer.”

You took a deep breath. “I killed… a serial killer?”

“Yes,” Yunho held your hands, making you face him. “Do you know how badly the events of tonight could have turned out?”

“But he was going to kill you,” you said. “He had it all planned- he was waiting for you, Yunho. You could have been seriously hurt tonight- do you realise that?”

“I can’t believe you’re still worried about me,” Yunho almost cried. “Do you have any idea what went through my head when I saw you throwing yourself in the way to protect me… I thought I was going to lose you, y/n. Why did you do that?”

“I can’t lose you,” you simply said. “It felt like I was back to being that kid trying to protect my father. Why did you kill him without knowing who he was? Why did you try to take the blame, Yunho? Do you know how scared I was when you did that?”

When Yunho didn’t respond, his eyes tearing up, you continued. “I thought it was happening all over again. You would take the blame and I would have to live with the guilt. I’ve lived with guilt for far too long, Yunho. My father… he never made it out of prison. He was never a criminal and I guess the other prisoners found out, and they… they killed him. My mother and brother never forgave me after that. Do you think I could live with something like this again?”

Yunho wiped his eyes. “I understand, y/n, I really do,” he nodded. “But you have to understand that I was scared for you tonight. You shouldn’t have done any of that- the police will find the man’s body with all his crimes soon, but even if he was someone innocent, you shouldn’t have done that-”

“I did that to protect you,” you smiled. “What’s so hard to understand about that? Just like you delivered the killing blow to protect me, yeah? Why did you do that?”

“Because I love you,” Yunho breathed. “And I couldn’t bear to see that broken look in your eyes.”

“But we’re both broken in our own ways,” the tears finally rolled down your cheeks at his confession and he laughed a little, wiping them away as he cupped your face. “Is that why you’ve been so distant? So unapproachable? You thought you were broken and no one could love you?”

When Yunho nodded, you shook your head. “Well, I might be just like you then. And I love you for who you are. I love you for the way you tried to protect me, and I love you for still loving me when I told you who I am.”

Yunho finally relaxed and laughed, bringing you in for a hug and you got in his lap, wrapping your limbs around each other. You hugged him good and tight, telling him that he didn’t have to be so guarded anymore- he could be himself with you. He kissed you and told you that you could stop being so scared as well. You found yourself content in his embrace as you both shared your pasts and concerns, assuring each other that everything would be okay and helping each other process the events of tonight, Yunho treating the various places you got nicked and patching you up. You were still scared and anxious but he was there for you, holding you even as you fell asleep.

There was no place he would rather be anyway.

—----------------------------

“The snake in the suit was cornered now. With a grim realisation, he wondered if he should have listened to the lanky cop on his case that he couldn’t even bother to remember the name of– he probably meant well when he suggested the snake be careful now. What would the snake need to be afraid of? The snake was a predator. It only needed to worry about finding prey.

However, the predator had become the prey now, defenceless in front of the masked spider who wielded his weapon of justice- a beautifully carved dagger with a golden hilt. For the first time in his life, the snake wished it had been a gun instead so his end would have been quick. However, just like the snake had enjoyed wearing the face of justice to the public while circulating drugs to the desperate, the spider enjoyed wearing no mask when he prosecuted his targets. The spider had one purpose to serve- so why not enjoy it?

The spider leaned into the snake’s ears, holding the tip of his dagger under the snake’s chin as he whispered, “I sent you countless warnings, didn’t I? I told you what fate you would meet if you continued down this road. Prison would have been a playground for you compared to the hell I’m about to show you.”

Any ramblings of mercy went up the spider’s head- he couldn’t hear anything anymore. With a kick to the snake’s stomach, he made him sink to his knees before he swiped the dagger along his cheekbone, producing a spurt of blood. The snake let out a choked whimper and the spider cocked his head, wondering which part of his body to ruin next– hey, y/n… I’m pretty sure it’s not that deep.”

“It’s fiction, Wooyoung,” you simply winked but Wooyoung wasn’t having any of it.

“Yunho, tell me, did you really cock your head and wonder which part of him you’d like to ruin next?”

Yunho only bothered shooting Wooyoung a dirty look in between arguing with San and Jongho about a recent case they had at their clinic- something about how to perform a specific type of stitch that would be seamless.

“What do you think, Yeosang?” Wooyoung elbowed the man next to him. “Don’t you think she’s overdoing some of it?”

“Well, what do you want me to write? ‘Yunho went and killed the politician who had been circulating drugs all around the province’. Plain and simple like that?”

“I think she writes gore to cope,” Yeosang commented. “I’ve been seeing a pattern and- wait, was I not supposed to point that out?”

You looked at Mingi for help who looked moments away from bursting into laughter. “You might want to switch your psychiatrist, y/n.”

“I think I’m good with you,” you grimaced at Yeosang who looked like a deer caught in headlights. “This one should stick to the kidney stuff instead of treating the mind.”

“You heard her,” Mingi clapped, finally bursting out laughing. “Stick to being a nephrologist.”

“I don’t even know how people can have you as their psychiatrist,” Yeosang narrowed his eyes at Mingi and you shook your head in amusement- this banter wasn’t new. “What do you tell them? This too shall pass?”

Wooyoung snorted at that while Mingi raised his finger at him, trying to come up with a retort but failing and sulk-walking to Yunho, resting his head against his shoulder. You smiled at how Yunho naturally adjusted to have both of them in a comfortable position while continuing arguing with the Chois.

It had been a couple of months since that fateful night. You were still trying to process most of what happened that night and the boys were always there to help you with that, going above and beyond. While at first you had been apprehensive of them- rightfully so- now they were almost like family to you. You found that all of them were extremely hardworking and ambitious, but also very gentle and kind. Or perhaps, you were receiving special treatment as Yunho often joked.

Yunho gave you all the time and space you needed to sort your thoughts out while continuing being there for you- you were amazed at how good he was with that balance. He never let you feel overwhelmed or alone. He answered all of your questions about him and he just knew when you wanted to talk about your own feelings. He would ask you what you were afraid to find the answers to and then help you navigate through the tangled web that your thoughts were. When he suggested you go to Mingi for ‘therapy sessions’, you asked him if he genuinely thought you needed therapy and if Mingi was really the right person to go considering his role in what they did.

“I mean… Mingi is sort of my therapist too,” Yunho admitted to your surprise. “One thing about him is that he understands. No matter how sick or twisted you think you may be, he understands and he guides you to your own solution to that. Surprisingly, he’s the one who helped me overcome my rage and trauma of my parents, not Hongjoong.”

That really got you thinking and when you went to your appointment with Mingi in his clinic, he asked you what role you would like him to play- a stranger and just a therapist, or who he really was. You preferred the latter and soon, you found yourself looking forward to going to those sessions. You could now talk about what happened with your father without feeling an immense sense of guilt because even though all this time you knew it was not your fault, you simply hadn’t made peace with that. Mingi also helped you realise that what they did- the ‘vigilante’ stuff- it wasn’t lawful. It might even be wrong and you needed to acknowledge and remember that.

And you did. So when Seonghwa and Hongjoong came to you with an odd proposition, you took your time thinking about it. You spent a few days away from everything, back in your hometown to visit your mother and brother and this time, you could actually talk back to them when they mocked you about going to your father’s grave when, according to them, you were his murderer. That time away helped you sort through the final knots in your mind.

And when Yunho came back home that day to the smell of a freshly cooked meal in his house, he had to take a moment for himself. He spread his arms as soon as he saw you and you crushed him in a hug, giggling like kids. You were back in his arms and that was all that mattered to him. You informing him that you agreed to Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s proposition was a bonus.

“She’s a crime-gore fiction writer, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong finally said. “You can’t expect anything less from her. Besides, the details make it look less believable, which means less people will suspect that what she writes is not wholly fictional.”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “Good one by the way, Yeosang.”

“Yeah, I was going to say that,” Hongjoong laughed. “I once went to Mingi too. He told me that exact line and that’s when I decided I didn’t really need therapy.”

“Ah, I didn’t know that,” Yeosang laughed. “No wonder he’s sulking so much.”

“He’ll be fine,” Seonghwa chuckled and you didn’t miss the adoration in his eyes as he glanced at Mingi. Seonghwa turned to you, closing your book and placing it on the table in front of him. “I think you did a great job. It’s a very engaging story and the facts are present for the wise ones if they can connect the dots. I quite like it, y/n.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I owe it to you both. You’re really good editors- it’s too bad you both refuse to take credit.”

“It would only raise suspicion,” Hongjoong dismissed. “You’re the writer. We’re only, uh… inspirations?”

“Inspirations,” Wooyoung repeated. “I know exactly who would be pleased to hear that. Our favourite detective.”

“I heard from a source that he spent two hours trying to convince his coworkers that what you were writing wasn’t fiction,” Hongjoong scoffed. “He’s been quite silent lately.”

“The excitement must have dulled now- it’s been weeks since this book has been out,” you said. “I think he might be starting to take pointers now. He texted me a few days ago asking which politician he should keep an eye out for next.”

“What did you say?” Yeosang asked.

“I told him the next book could be about a detective who refuses to leave a poor girl alone,” you grinned, the group bursting into a chorus of laughter. “He enjoyed that joke, actually. I think he’s warming up to me now.”

“He better not,” Yunho finally joined, putting his hands on your shoulders from behind you. “I don’t want him obsessing about what kitchen tools we use these days. Shall we go home now?”

You nodded, saying goodnight to the boys and exiting the warehouse with Yunho. A bike ride later in the chilly night, you were home and just like always, grinning as you entered- you still loved the bike rides.

“Oh, tomorrow’s Sunday,” you clapped, suddenly remembering. “We get to sleep in. What do you wanna do tonight? Movie?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Yunho pretended to think, a grin creeping up on his face as he tackled you in a back hug and swung you around once, making your laugh echo in the house. “I think I’ll skip.”

“What’s got you so mushy tonight?” You asked- Yunho was swinging you both back and forth, his cheek resting against yours.

“Nothing,” he muttered. “I just still can’t get used to the fact that you’re real.”

You chuckled at that- you knew that Yunho absolutely loved the sight of you getting along with his friends, working with them, and actually supporting them. You insisted it was because the world really needed less criminals prowling around and while Yunho agreed, he also knew that part of the reason you agreed in the first place was because of him and he told you that he sometimes couldn’t believe that you could love him despite what he did.

You only told him once that a sick part of you definitely enjoyed killing those men if that meant you got to protect your loved ones. He remembered what you said- that everyone had something ugly like that in them- they just hadn’t been desperate enough to realise it yet. And thanks to you, Yunho was discovering a new side of himself- someone passionate and gentle and human. Sure, he had been that with his friends before, but with you, it was definitely different and new.

“Says the 6 foot tall handsome doctor slash biker slash vigilante. It can’t get hotter than that,” you teased.

“Bet you moved in because of that.”

“Maybe I did,” you teased. “Wasn’t it the best decision you made, agreeing to let me move in?”

Yunho thought about it for a few moments, humming to himself. “I could think of a few better decisions I’ve made-”

You smacked his arm, getting out of his grasp and muttering you were going to bed first and Yunho laughed loudly at your antics, following you as you walked towards the stairs and when you noticed him, you sped up, giggling when he started running after you. You barely made it to his room when he had you in his arms again and was peppering kisses all over your face.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said. “The best decision I made was probably letting Detective Seo rattle you out while I stood outside and listened.”

You gasped loudly. “You did all of that just to have an excuse to kiss me, didn’t you?”

“Who knows?” Yunho shrugged teasingly. “Might not have gotten a better chance.”

“Come on, say it,” you started unbuttoning his shirt. “When exactly did you fall for me?”

“Let’s see…” he thought about it while you took off his shirt and ran your hands across his toned chest, tracing all his scars like you always did. “Could have been when you scolded me about the boots and the water trail and ordered me to use the bunny towel.”

“Sheesh, you’re that easy?”

“Yeah, I’m simple like that,” Yunho muttered before drawing in to capture your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. “It’s the little things you did that made me a mess way before you defended me with all your might.”

“That was the first time you laughed,” you smiled at the memory, turning him around so you could make him sit on his bed. You got in his lap and he squeezed your thighs in appreciation. “I think you had me right there too.”

Yunho shook his head at your confession and you grinned, pushing him to make him lie down. He loved it when you did that and took your time appreciating him, kissing all his scars and massaging his scalp as you drove him a little crazy, rolling your hips on his crotch suggestively once in a while. And he let you take your time because once he took charge, once he flipped you so you were under him and let his hands run all over your body as he kissed every inch of it, and once you were skin to skin-

That’s when you were done for.

#★ ┆ chroncom #ateez fanfic #yunho fanfic #author:#sorryimananti-romantic #-☁️🌻#afternote:#law is sexy #my bells: yumi 🩷

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makeitmingi · 9 months ago

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omg i didn't realise we were mutuals! that's just making me 10x happier bc i'm genuinely such a fan 😭🩷

really meant every word of the feedback i gave and googling the food in the fic was so fun hehe. i'm glad the reblog made you feel better :') here's sth to make you feel even better

HAHAHAHA i honestly didn't realise too until i saw your main and was like 'hang on... i know that username...'

thank you so much T-T im glad you had fun with the googling hehehe and yes, the reblog and your kind words made me feel SO much better. (and thank you for yeo, san, woo) they're the sweetest really <3

#inbox #replies #sorryimananti-romantic #mutuals ✨#awww #thank you

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mydayinthebuilding · 2 years ago

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5 drinks to get to know me!

tagged by @dumbledavisjr 🤪

1. Water. Except sometimes I drink none and other days I drink way too much and then forget to pee

2. Sprite! muahaha this is my go-to at fast food places

3. Koolaid sharkleberry fin :D the most heavenly taste in my mouth ever since childhood

4. Shirley temple teehee! Olive Garden go-to, and when there are the machines to customize your drink I do strawberry or cherry sprite heheh

5. Apple juice. Nom nom nom

Tag five people: um. I’ll do three @raven-anastasia-oc @fanoof777 and @sorryimananti-romantic ;)

#one time my mom made snow cones using the koolaid one #delicious. I recommend #sorryimananti-romantic: this is the game I guess!!

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hwaslayer · 11 months ago

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YOU'RE XPEACHESNCREAM??? IM ALSO EMBARRASSED THAT IM FINDING OUT NOW WE'VE BEEN MUTUALS THIS WHOLE TIME???

IM A BIG FAN 😭❤️ I CANT WAIT TO FINISH PMYLM AND I CANT WAIT TO READ HOME NOW THAT IM FREE-ISH 😭😭

YUMI BABYLOVE 😭

hahaha yes thats me 🥺 YOU ARE SO CUTE WHY ARE YOU GUYS EMBARRASSED!!!!! i dont expect anyone to know!!! lil ol me LOL this is so sweet though, thank you!!!! im happy you can enjoy my work! i hope you enjoy the rest of pmylm and home 🫶🏼💕

#hahaha i swear these make me giggle its so cute #hwaslayer: secrets #sorryimananti-romantic 🖤

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cosmicrecs · 7 days ago

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i have read that one and EUGHHH i think it was maybe my first fic i read of urs and i literally thought abt it for a week straight after i read it it is so my taste 🫶🏻 i tried looking for other fics like it too but nothing held a candle to urs and the emotions it made me feel 😫

omg.... all of ur work is so good i could never choose a fave if i tried but ...... makeshift chemistry altered MY brain chemistry like i felt crazy 😭🫶🏻

(going to see what else of urs i have not read rn🏃🏻‍♀️💨)

Give Me Liberty Or Death

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - mysterious!jongho x ex!heartbroken!reader ◄ ► 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎/𝙰𝚄 - exes-to-strangers-??? trope, mafia au, plot with a side of smut (warnings below), heavy angst, Jongho's career choice is !unknown, regret, intense verbal fighting, reader is very !lonely, lots of crying, sexual tension so thick you can cut it with a knife, slice of life, slow burn, time lapses, path to healing, redemption, miscommunication, plot twist ◄ ► 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - PG-18+ so MDNI!!!, Jongho is an absolute DOM! and he has a !filthy mouth, degrading names (be warned), degradation kink, reader has !masochistic tendencies, spanking, hair pulling, hard biting, overstimulation, blowjob, choking, acarophilia, dacryphilia, creampie, no protection (DO NOT DO THIS!!!!), night terrors, mental breakdown, depressive state, mentions of self-ending (NOT DESCRIBED), extreme violence, gunfight scene (not towards reader) ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 27K+ words ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - A storm hits not only your town, but also your heart when Jongho knocks on your door in a panic after not seeing him for more than five years. Everything would have been fine, except he wasn't the Jongho you once knew and loved. He was tense, and paranoid like he was running away from something, and instead of your heart, he now carried a gun. ◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - I'm back from my vacation!!! This one might be on the more emotional side and I kept pausing because I got so into it, that it was actually affecting me. I wasn't going to put smut in this one, but it was so necessary. You'll see why. Also changed my name from "dearinsaniiiity" to this one. Hope you enjoy! ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @ginger-mingi @0rangemilk @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos ◄ ► 𝙽𝚎𝚝s - @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @whipped-kpop-creators @illusionnet @pirateeznet ◄

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝟑, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏

"We interrupt your afternoon delight with a weather forecast of heavy rain and zero visibility in most areas..."

A strong gust of wind that passed and shook my windows slightly broke me out of the trance I almost went into. With a heavy sigh, I got up and double-checked if I had closed them tightly, twisting and turning the lock just to make extra sure.

It's been pouring rain the last couple of days and everyone, including me, thought it was going to pass, but clearly not.

I was disheartened to find out that there was a hurricane in my area when I turned my television on. I looked out my window again, the wind was picking up and it was raining so hard that I could barely make out what was outside.

"Shit, shit!" I panicked when I saw smoke rise up my ceiling and realized that I had overcooked my dinner for tonight.

I hurriedly took out my baked salmon, or what was left of it, from the oven. It was basically inedible.

I sat on the dining table with my head buried in my hands in frustration. This week has been terrible for me.

Because of the oncoming storm, my boss from the local bakery decided that he was going to close for a couple of months and leave town to avoid the storm while vacationing somewhere. I didn't mind, I wasn't going to stay in that job forever, so I applied to a corporation in the next city over, but I was rejected today.

Life hasn't been easy on me, but I'm working towards it.

Just when I was about to burst into pitiful tears, my doorbell suddenly rang. I was alarmed; I wasn't expecting anyone, and nobody in their right mind would be out in an active hurricane.

"Alright, I'm coming, please hang on," I scurried to the door when the doorbell rang over and over again hurriedly, as if the person on the other side was on the verge of collapsing.

But who could this be? I didn't really have anybody close enough with me who would visit without any prior notice. I wasn't really reclused, I just saw no point if they're going to leave anyway eventually.

With a deep breath, I opened the door slowly to peep out and see who was knocking, but that was pointless. I quickly grew frigid and loosened my hold on the door as it swung open on its own.

I recoiled at the surprise - there was someone I was not expecting to see right now. I blinked my eyes over and over and over, and over again. I even went as far as to rub my eyes repeatedly, pressing onto them almost dangerously, just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

"J-Jongho?" I squeaked, my voice cracking pathetically towards the end.

I curled my hands into fists. All the pain, raw and real, came rushing towards me as I stared into the eyes of the man who hurt me the most five years ago.

"Hello, Y/N."

His voice sounded so far away, and if it weren't for him actually standing in front of me and looking at me straight in the eye with an expression I couldn't pinpoint, I would have knocked my head against the wall so I could wake myself up from this nightmare.

"I-Is that you? Jongho?"

"That is my name, yes," Jongho spoke as his eyes stared into my own again. There were a million emotions to be said yet none in his eyes.

His voice sent delicious shivers down my spine, my legs started going numb from the pressure and the intensity. It had been years, and his eyes still had this unique, telling amber hue to them from afar, but up this close, his eyes had gold specks swirling in the middle near his irises.

"W-What are you d-doing here?" I sputtered out, my voice clearly holding distress.

"I know this is very sudden and I really don't mean to bother you," he cleared his throat. "I just...didn't know where to go, I passed by and I didn't know there was a storm."

My heart ached uncontrollably. If it wasn't for the storm, he wouldn't even show his face in front of me. "Do you need a place to pass the storm?" I asked rhetorically.

"Do you mind?"

"N-No, not at all. I'm just surprised you still knew your way here, that's all..."

A flashing look of hurt crossed his expression before it completely disappeared. He knows he can't blame me - after all, this was the first time we were seeing each other after five years of complete radio silence from one another.

I hesitated, biting my lips in contemplation. It's not that I didn't want him here, it's just that I was too hurt to see him.

A strong gust of wind howled from a distance and it was so strong, it had nearly uprooted a nearby tree. I turned back to Jongho in panic and urged him to come inside before he got uprooted.

I waved my hand towards him as a gesture that he could move. "Come along, Jongie---Jongho."

When Jongho started to walk inside and pass me, he paused and stiffened at my mistake. We stared at each other wide-eyed, either of us unwilling to move for fear of what's going to happen next. It was the nickname I loved calling him when we were still together.

But one of us had to. I laughed nervously and broke eye contact as I closed the door behind me. It was so awkward and for a couple of minutes, none of us did anything. The only sound that could be heard was the storm happening outside and Jongho's coat rustling as he took it off and set it somewhere.

My mind was blank except for the constant buzzing that reminded me that this was real, my heart palpitated in an abnormal manner, and at this point I was sure I was going to pass out.

"C-Coffee? Tea?" I blabbered nervously as I tried to busy myself so I wouldn't make eye contact with Jongho.

He chose to sit cross-legged on the couch. In my peripheral vision, I saw him close his eyes momentarily to savour the sensation - I get it, that specific spot was his favourite. It was to the point that we used to joke that when we had kids, he would pass on his 'throne'. Clearly, that didn't work out for us.

"Tea is good," Jongho murmured. "A dash of honey, no sugar or lemon."

I raised a brow, Jongho and tea never used to be in the same sentence. But then again, five years had passed. A lot of things can change in five years. But this was my ex-boyfriend, and I knew Jongho. He was never the type to deviate from what he liked.

I went to work and I could feel Jongho's sharp eyes following my every movement. It was making me extremely nervous. It was very evident in my actions, especially with the way my hands shook. I accidentally dropped the kettle with how clammy my hands have become and I yelped when it clanged loudly.

I stood frozen at my spot, staring at the fallen kettle. A sigh resounds from the far corner of the room and then the footsteps I missed.

"Are you alright?" Jongho picked up the kettle and set it down. "Sit down. I'll do it."

My head short-circuited from how close Jongho was to me. I could smell his cologne, something that used to comfort me. I had to stop the emotions threatening to bubble up from my chest because this felt so intimate.

"No, please, my hands were just a little clammy. Just relax," I explained, still avoiding eye contact.

My breath was cut short when a hand held my shoulder and a finger gently lifted my chin. I was forced to look into Jongho's eyes and I was surprised at how close he actually was to me.

It was the first time I was taking a good look at him. Jongho's hair was slicked back, something he barely did before because he loved his bangs. I resisted the urge to frown. It wasn't the only thing that changed, Jongho was much bigger than me now. He's always been taller than me, but now his shoulders were much broader and his chest was definitely harder.

"Do I make you nervous?" Jongho whispered. His eyes searched my face for answers. My breath laboured when they stared a little too long on my lips before his eyes met mine again.

"Yeah," I nodded, my voice quiet. "You do."

I was rigid as I returned the gesture. I had long forgotten how his plump lips felt like against mine, and I forgot Jongho's face overall.

I forgot about how insanely, utterly, ridiculously good-looking he was - it made me want to pull my hair out. I felt beads of sweat starting to form slowly at my forehead, I must have looked so dumb staring at him with slightly wide eyes.

He pulled away. "Sit down, Y/N. I won't burn down your kitchen."

"I know you won't," I frowned with a slight blush on my cheek. "If you could just let me---"

Jongho snapped his head at me and stared straight into my eyes with an expression that startled me. "Sit down," he repeated, his voice leaving no space for arguments.

I did as told, but I couldn't even concentrate as Jongho prepared the tea, not even when he opened the correct cabinets and worked my stove as if he never left five years ago.

There was something about his eyes and demeanor that was scaring me a bit. I could argue that it might just be my own anxiety and surprise at seeing him, but no, that wasn't it. I couldn't explain it, when he told me to sit down, I had to.

I had to. It was either I follow or else.

I stared at Jongho as he stood by and waited for the water to boil. He had always been a very nonchalant person as he was quite mature for our age group, but he was different. I wasn't sure if it was the way he moved or the way he talked, but he was very much different from the carefree and easygoing man I once loved.

"Careful, it's very hot," he murmured as he handed me the mug. We both chose to sit at the dining table and I tried my best to stay unaffected than I actually was.

When I took a sip, I whipped my head fast at Jongho who was busy sipping his own tea. There was a ghost of a smirk on his face when I sipped again, this time, savouring the tea and allowing myself to relax a little.

"You remembered," I swallowed. "A sugar cube and a dash of lemon in mine."

Jongho stared at me for a couple of seconds before completely ignoring me. It was awkward, but I wasn't going to push it. There was this dread I'm feeling that I couldn't pinpoint. Moments later, he had completely finished his drink.

"How are you, Y/N?" Jongho asked softly. His voice sounded so calm like the ongoing rain, and I've always loved the sound of the rain.

"I've been good, well, mostly anyway. I'm trying to apply at the capital, but no luck so far," I answered truthfully. "Are you okay, though? The way you knocked got me so worried."

Jongho's face softens significantly. I didn't even notice how tense his body was until he relaxed. "You were worried?" he snorted quietly. "You haven't changed at all."

It hit a nerve. I wish I did change, because if I did, then there wouldn't be a single part of me that was so hurt by his presence right now.

There was still a part of me that will always mourn how he suddenly just left one day and never came back, that is, until today.

"How can you just act like nothing happened?" I looked up at him with inquisitive eyes. "I guess that part of you never changed."

"That's what you think," Jongho murmured. His soft, calm voice always sent shivers down my spine.

Once again, he started staring at me again with those deep eyes of his. I couldn't help but be taken aback. His eyes looked different - darker. It made me think, what in the world has he been doing after he left town?

I broke eye contact, awkwardly shifting my body in a different angle. "And what of you?" I asked, trying to change the topic. "How are you, Jongho?"

My tone held weight in it, and Jongho knew. We both knew the hidden meaning behind the question - I wanted to know the real reason why he gave up on us when we had it good. His demeanor falters a bit and he sighed deeply before responding.

"Exhausted," he replied like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. "I am very tired."

Silence. I didn't know what to say. This entire time, the way his eyes were reaching out and speaking to me made me want to take all his worries away, but I can't. I wasn't prepared for the day I would have to face him again, fuck, I haven't even moved on.

"Are you going to tell me why?" I whispered, my voice giving out my real intentions.

I knew he wouldn't say anything, but still, I wasn't ready for the instantaneous rejection. "No," Jongho denied, his tone firm and absolute.

I always had this gut feeling that Jongho was doing something behind my back. No, I knew it wasn't an affair. I never did ask why, until today.

"What are you really doing here, Choi Jongho?" I squinted my eyes at him.

He raised a brow in amusement. "I already told you---"

"You're lying!" I gritted my teeth, slighted, then banged my fist on the table. The sound didn't even startle Jongho. "Don't you at least owe me an explanation if you're staying in my house?"

"You would be correct," he agreed, his eyes shifting into something darker; sinister. I shifted uncomfortably on my seat as he slowly leaned forward until our faces were only inches apart. "But there are some things better left unsaid, Y/N."

Better left unsaid, my ass!

The urge to fight for him as we stared at each other unblinking was overtaking all my sense of rationality. As always, I had to back down, else we'd be like this all night up until the next night. Jongho would rather die than give in, even in the little things like this. It was petty and it was endearing before, but now, it just angered me.

I nodded robotically, effectively ending that conversation. "Right," I stood up from the chair as I looked out the window before turning to him. "It's getting late. Would you like to clean up before heading to sleep?"

The urge to pretend we were strangers was immense ,but I couldn't turn my back on him. It was a trait of mine I've always wanted to change - I'm a little too forgiving and caring. I always get hurt in the end.

Jongho had always been a man of few words, and tonight wasn't any different. He stared at me calculatingly, gauging my facial expressions, but I had already gauged his - he did not want to stay. My eyes must've looked more pleading than I wanted to because he looked away with a soft sigh.

"Oh," Jongho hummed awkwardly. "I'll have to go in my car to see if I have some spare clothes."

I shook my head immediately. "No need. Hang on a minute."

I descended towards my room with a blush with what I was about to do. I went into my room and grabbed the clothes I'd always kept at bay, I didn't even sweat looking for them; they've always been hidden away in the most immediate place of my closet.

I paused on the doorway, willing my shaking hands to stop, but to no avail. I had to mentally tell myself that it was okay, it was just Jongho, he needed help and you were just helping him. It was nothing more than that, nobody deserves to be in the middle of a raging hurricane with nowhere to go.

But why is the hurricane raging in my heart instead?

I could feel Jongho's eyes burning onto my hands - at the clothes I was carrying. When I handed them to him, it was the first time real emotions crossed his features.

"For all this time?" Jongho asked, his eyes holding turmoil and his voice strained with pain as he held his clothes that I've kept. I didn't have the heart to throw them away, I didn't want to.

My words kept getting stuck in my throat. I nodded my head and ignored his burning gaze. His body stiffened in realization before he moved in urgency towards a certain room in my small and modest house. I could only stare at him as he opened the door.

"You could sleep there," I offered, though he probably knew that already. "It's clean, I promise..."

My chest felt extremely heavy as emotions rushed through me, emotions that I've long forgotten because they died along with my soul a long, long time ago. Jongho stared at me, his hand gripping the doorknob so tight, I was afraid it would crush under his strength. His other hand was balled into a tight fist.

It was the master bedroom, our room when we were still together. However, it was mostly Jongho's room because it was his gaming room. I was starting college back then, mostly online, so I used the other room - the room I used ever since. Jongho would end up sleeping there so it made sense that all his stuff be moved there.

We were so secure in our relationship that we had no problem sleeping in separate rooms. Of course we'd sleep next to each other most of the time, but the principle behind it stood.

In hindsight, maybe we weren't so secure after all.

"When was the last time you were here?" Jongho asked in urgency. There was an underlying threat to his voice, like he was trying to hold himself back from exploding, but I don't care. I was too focused on my own hurt.

I hesitated. "Five years ago," I replied honestly. "When I...found your letter that said not to look for you."

It was the first time that that door was opened in so long, I couldn't bear to even look at the door because it held so many painful memories for me.

"Why?" Jongho questioned, the heat of his gaze almost melted me into a messy puddle, but I couldn't bear to look at him, he looked so hurt under all the surprise and the facade.

Because I was hoping you'd come back one day.

I shrugged, hoping that I could sell the notion that I didn't care. It was so far from the truth. I couldn't tell him what I really felt.

Jongho was about to say something but I immediately cut him off. "Anyway," I cleared my throat. Jongho frowns deeper but he lets me be. "I'm a bit tired, you know where the shower is."

I turned my back quickly to leave, but Jongho stopped me. "Wait, please."

I stuttered in my steps, only turning my head to look at him and not my whole body. He also wasn't the type to say 'please'. His mouth opened to say something, but he opted to close it. "Good night, Y/N. Sleep well," was all he ended up saying.

I ran to my room a little faster than I wanted to and closed the door a little harder than I intended to. I don't care if Jongho notices, he knows damn well what he was doing when came here.

There was a point in my life where I never wanted to see Jongho again, but at the same time, I needed him to let me heal. But not like this.

I couldn't sleep that night. Up until this point I was working with empathy as my fuel and my body on autopilot. Tonight, everything came crashing down on me now that I was alone. It was horrific, the heartbreak and the pain that came with it barreled down my body and I couldn't breathe.

I could still feel the biting cold of the harsh winter snowfall when we first laid our eyes on each other. We were just teenagers, no older than fourteen, and it wasn't love at first sight, but it was a slow burn; a gradual fall that would have happened eventually even before we knew it.

Jongho's love always gave me an out-of-body experience, for his love was true and passionate. It was something you'd have to experience yourself to know what I meant. He was the sweetest lover, he was so patient with me and he had the most beautiful smile that always made me cry tears of joy for having him.

I built a world in my head that revolved around Jongho. Him and I managed to graduate high school, but we never went to college because we didn't see the point of it. We did odd jobs here and there until we bought our first house to prepare for the rest of our lives together. We had it so good.

Until it wasn't. He took a part of my heart that I can never, ever get back again when I found a letter in his room one day when I woke up. There was no other explanation. The amount of tears I cried for years could rival the hurricane happening right now.

I'd always suspected it was because of his career. The way he got so irritated and angry whenever I'd want to talk about what he did back then petrified me. He told me he found solace in a bank, but I knew he was lying. I was pretty sure the bank didn't give him all the bruises he came home with all the time.

I did try the dating scene after two years or so, but no such luck. I left every man that I'd make a connection with all the time because I would end up comparing every single one of them to Jongho and it wasn't fair to them.

But everything was in the past now. As I closed my eyes to try and rest, I made up my resolve to try and not catch feelings for him. I would break his heart before he broke mine again.

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝟖, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏

It took approximately five days for the rain to finally stop and by this time, it was safe to go out and see the sun.

These five days were some of the most challenging days of my entire life, more so than when I was trying to move on from Jongho before. We were so awkward around one another, it was as if we were strangers that were forced to co-habituate.

The only consolidation was that both of us barely went out of our rooms, except when I made dinner, but even then, we'd still eat in our rooms. I don't know about him, but I refused to go out there willingly and interact with him. Living together again felt a little too intimate for my liking.

And now he was leaving again. It's like he never even came in my life.

"A-Are you sure you're going to be okay?" I asked apprehensively from across the dining table.

Jongho zipped up his duffle bag that contained some of his clothes that he took from the room. It hurt me more than I'd like to admit, it was like he was permanently uprooting what's left of him from this place - from me.

He looked up and nodded. "Yes," Jongho responded curtly. He hesitated a bit before speaking again. "You're going to go grocery shopping this morning, aren't you?"

I raised a brow in surprise. Jongho pointed at something and when I looked, it was a note I had put there from a week before to remind me to refill my fridge. The tips of my ears warm up with embarrassment. I nodded at him, not knowing where this was going.

"I'll drop you off so you don't have to walk," he offered, voice soft. "The town exit is by that area...I can drive off from there."

I hesitated, biting my lip to think about it. To be quite honest, I was hoping that he would just say his thanks and leave. In reality, I don't want to watch him leave, my unhealed soul won't be able to take it.

However, maybe seeing it would help me finally move on and heal. "Okay," I agreed, my voice barely audible even in the silence that enveloped us, but he heard it anyway.

It was how I found myself sitting in the car with him as he drove. It was a small town, I could have walked to the store if I wanted to, but driving was still more convenient for me.

"I hope life will be a bit nicer to you from now on," I whispered all of a sudden as I watched the scenery bristle past us. Even with what happened to us, I will always want Jongho to succeed and be happy.

I could feel his eyes burn through me and I tried not to look at him. "You've always been such an angel," Jongho remarked quietly. The statement made my stomach drop. "Thank you, Y/N. You had no reason to take me in, but you still did."

Before I could ask if I was going to see him again, Jongho halted the car all of a sudden. I yelped a bit when I jutted forward, thank God for seatbelts, and I wanted to look at him in intense confusion, but when I looked up, I understood why.

There was destruction that laid across the streets and the town. Thick, gigantic trees had fallen over and covered the entire divide. It gave me the shivers to look at, but what made both me and Jongho pale was that the exit bridge was entirely destroyed. This town was located at the very edge of the country, and that bridge was the only thing connecting them.

I was startled when a knock sounded from my window. It was a construction worker. I lowered the window and we said our respects.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," he began. "It's very dangerous here, please turn back before you get hurt."

"How long until everything is up and functioning?" Jongho asked, obvious tension and anger tainted in his voice even when he was trying to hold back. "I'm not a resident here. Is there any other exit?"

"Afraid not, dear sir. Please, turn back. And it would probably take a couple of months to fix everything..."

Jongho's grip on the steering wheel became dangerously tight. He knew the answer to that question, but he still asked anyway. I didn't pay attention, my ears were ringing loudly in my brain

"Fuck!" Jongho hit the steering wheel hard with the palm of his hands, the force of it so intense, it shook the car a little bit.

I jumped a bit when he did it again, harder than the last. I've never heard Jongho curse with this vehemence, hell, I've never even seen him lose his temper this quick. Rage was written all over his face, his blown out eyes were wide with adrenaline and thick veins angrily popped out from his temples.

My heart stopped beating for a full second when Jongho snapped his head towards me and ran his eyes all over my terrorized state. His glare held cold emptiness. Who was this man? The Jongho I knew only looked at me with nothing but love and even if he didn't anymore, surely I don't deserve this?

He forced himself to stop glaring at me. It was such an odd sight, as if he was trying to reign in the demons that threatened to overtake him. He tried and tried until all that was left was his softened gaze.

I got so lost in thought that I didn't even realize that Jongho had not only parked his car , but he had also gotten out and opened the door for me.

"Let's go," he gently coaxed out. "I'd like to be home before sundown."

Home? My head started hurting from all the overstimulation. I looked around me, surprised that we were in front of the grocery store. I stared at Jongho in confusion. "A-Are you going in with me?" I blurted out dumbly.

My skin tingles when Jongho placed his hand at the lower part of my back and started making me walk with me inside. "How am I going to pay for the stuff if I'm not here?"

He grabbed a cart and started pushing it with one hand while his other hand had now travelled a little higher as he gently guided me with him.

"I have my own money," I frowned. "If this is about you staying for a while now, I'm not asking for anything in return."

"So keep them and stash them somewhere as savings," he replied. His hand separated from my back and he paused at one aisle. "You like instant ramen?"

"Oh, yes—wait," I sputtered like an absolute idiot, face getting redder by the minute. "Don't change the topic."

He grabbed the biggest box of instant ramen. Not only did he do that, but he also got my favourite variety. There was a look of amusement painted on his face, it made him look so much younger; it made him look so good.

We carried on doing the groceries together. I was so distracted by how domesticated we both looked. We looked like we were a married couple just trying to replenish their groceries. Jongho grabbed everything I needed but more so the stuff he knew I liked because I would eye them a little longer. I couldn't freely do this, my job at the bakery provided just enough for me to survive but not splurge on things I didn't need.

By the time we were done, the cart was so full that Jongho found it difficult to steer the cart. "There's a lot of things here I'm not even sure how to cook," I deadpanned.

"The internet exists, blossom. We'll figure it out," he assured. He cocked his head towards the cashier area. "Come on."

I lagged behind him, I didn't want him to see how red my entire face had become. Blossom. I'm not sure if he did it on purpose, but it was what he called me during the entirety of our relationship.

"Hey, Y/N! Good to see you out and about," Choi San, the cashier and one of my best friends, greeted. He turned to Jongho and bowed a bit. "Thank you for shopping with us, Sir..."

I stopped the smile threatening to come out. If only San knew that he was technically older than Jongho. I can't blame him though, Jongho was born with an old soul, it was one of the things that made me love him so, so much.

San kept wiggling his eyebrows at me in a teasing manner while Jongho wasn't looking. I put my finger to my lips to shush him, but that seemed to spur him on even more.

"Hope the storm wasn't too bad on you, Sannie. How's Haneul?" I asked him to distract him.

"She wasn't here when it happened, thank God," he laughed a little. He stared at Jongho, me, and then back at Jongho with a sly smile. "Your boyfriend is very generous, Y/N."

I fumbled, redness immediately spreading across my face. I wanted to retort, but the idiot purposefully turned to Jongho to ask some questions.

"Haven't seen you around here before, where are you from?"

"Seoul, my work is based in the mid-city," Jongho patiently replied as barrages of questions were hurled at him.

Jongho never really stayed long in this town for people to recognize him, and even if he did, he barely went out anyway. As the conversation went on, I realized that Jongho never corrected San when he said that he was my boyfriend. It sent me into an intense mental whiplash.

"A total of ₩973,841," San stated after he was done doing his cashier things.

My heart thudded and my grip on my wallet became impossibly tight. I was on a restricted budget since the bakery isn't going to be open for a while, luckily I was good at saving, but still. I was about to open my mouth to retort but Jongho beat me to it.

"Do you accept dollars?" Jongho inquired. When San confirmed they did, he fished out a prestigious black card that everyone only dreamed of having.

Shame crept onto my face. It meant that Jongho was thriving in his career and even went international. It wasn't a surprise because Jongho had always been meant for greater things while I was still that painfully normal girl. We weren't even in the same level of status at this point.

"Stop thinking what you're thinking."

I was a bit startled when Jongho tucked a piece of my hair behind my ears. "I know you, and it's okay," he murmured. When my expression didn't relent, he sighed. "Make me dinner tonight then, but I'm telling you, I don't need anything."

I agreed. It was better than owing Jongho. He picked up all the heavy shopping bags effortlessly and San's widened eyes made me giggle. San was crazy strong, but Jongho's strength was something out of this world.

"Loaded and strong," San whistled. I blushed in embarrassment and playfully glared at San. His laughter was still ringing in my head even after we left the store.

The drive home was more peaceful this time, except for my internal turmoil. Jongho was going to live with me for God-knows-how-long.

"That cashier, your friend?" Jongho suddenly asked. "He seems nice."

"San? Yes, he is," I paused for a moment before I spoke again. "He's my ex, actually."

Jongho's brows raised in genuine surprise. "Oh? What happened?"

"Nothing," I shrugged. He side eyed me, unimpressed. "No, I'm serious. Nothing happened, which was why we broke up."

He didn't say anything, waiting for me to continue. "I met San through a mutual friend of ours. He just had his heart broken, and I was lonely, so we tried for each other. Instead of developing romance, we ended up being extremely good friends instead. It was a win-win for us."

It wasn't the entire truth. There were countless nights where San and I cried in each other's arms in desperation because we both wanted to move on and genuinely be with each other, but we just both couldn't. San's heart wasn't ready and I was still desperately in love with Jongho.

"What about you?" I asked with genuine interest. "Anyone within five years, or perhaps as of now?"

I was nervous to hear his answer, but it was only fair that I asked. "Had a few," he admitted. "None of which lasted for more than two weeks, I'm afraid. Last time I even bothered to try was three years ago."

"Why?" I bit my lip as I waited for his response, though I was a bit surprised. Jongho was shy, but he was extremely attractive so that's that.

He parked in front of the house before turning to look at me. "For the same reasons as yours," he whispered.

My heart started to beat a million miles per minute. "You don't even know mine," I frowned.

"But I do," he shook his head slowly. That darkness in his eyes was back. He stole my breath relentlessly when he grabbed my chin and tilted it towards him.

It wasn't normal; the gesture was rough and demanding. "I can see it in your eyes," he said with a small smirk. I gulped when he pressed his thumb on my bottom lip. "We were each other's anchor. You'd do best to believe that."

Jongho got out of the car and I remained frozen in my spot. That was weird, the Jongho I knew would never act like that! Just who was this man I took in for almost a week, and now, will be taking in for a couple of months?

But wait, was he implying that he can't find someone else either because he still loved me?

"Then why did you leave?" I bombarded him when I quickly ran to the house before he could do anything else.

Jongho stared at me blankly. It was uncomfortable, his eyes were the darkest I have ever seen. Without replying, he turned around and locked himself in his room.

I scoffed, tempted to pull my hair out, the nerve of this man! I might as well be talking to a wall! I decided to put all the groceries away and start on dinner.

I couldn't concentrate though, I genuinely thought we had a connection already. And his eyes, his demeanor, it was freaking me out.

Him walking out wasn't technically new, even before, he'd walk out when he didn't want to be confronted, but this was different. At least before, he used to smile and they would hold this softness to it that I never saw again in another man since he’s walked out of my life.

Dinner was silent. I made homemade ramen and I could see the surprise in his eyes. I smirked in satisfaction when his jaw hardened. He loved it but he doesn't want to admit it.

"Want to drink tonight?" Jongho blurted out all of a sudden in the middle of dinner.

Just when I thought we were strangers, he busts out things that bring me nostalgia.

"I suppose I don't mind," I shrugged. "Where?"

"Here. I bought alcohol earlier," Jongho put his dirty dishes in the sink before he turned to my confused expression. "You forgot to check the trunk, blossom. Again."

I blushed in embarrassment. Jongho and I loved drinking occasionally after dinner, we both held our alcohol well, and he has a habit of putting them in the trunk of his car instead. I don't know why, and he doesn't either.

Jongho went outside and when he came back, he was carrying two cases of soju. They were two different flavours, one for me and one for him specifically. My heart was confused if it wanted to soar or drop.

We both excitedly opened a bottle and clinked our bottles together. I couldn't hold back a smile when I began drinking. Jongho had the regular flavor, and I had the peach one. When I got another one, I couldn't open the bottle in a heated fervor.

Jongho saw my struggle and grabbed my bottle. "Really, Y/N? I have to do everything for you it seems," Jongho smirked at me as he gave me the bottle. "Think I should wipe your ass for you too?"

I squinted my eyes at him. He was definitely feeling buzzed, but so was I. "Better than doing it myself," I scoffed.

I got the shock of my life when Jongho reached out and wiped my face vigorously. My mouth drops at his grin, the nerve of this man!

I got up and walked to the fridge to get the dessert I made - homemade doughnuts - as he burst out laughing from behind me. I smiled a little, how I missed that sound coming from him. Too bad it was the alcohol acting.

"It looks like assholes," he blurted out when he got one and inspected that misshapen doughnut. I didn't mean for them to come out like that, I couldn't concentrate.

I snatched the doughnut from him. "Yeah?" I hissed. "I was thinking of you when I made them."

It was his turn to scoff, but I could see the mirth in his eyes. "Don't you think this is getting old?" Jongho smirked.

"So are you," I bit back.

This time, the comeback really made him snort and began laughing so loud that I see tears forming in his eyes. I couldn't help but laugh with him and then we were two idiots just laughing at anything and everything we see. When we stopped, all we did was look at each other and begin laughing all over again.

It was like five years ago all over again and I temporarily felt five years younger as I turned back in time with all the nostalgia flowing through my body with the alcohol.

"Remember that one time you told this kid in our class that he was weird for being right-handed?" I hiccupped, the alcohol taking its full effect on me.

Jongho turned red, if he wasn't already, and began laughing again. "Yeah, well I thought everyone was left-handed like me."

He leaned his elbow on the table and closer to me. "Remember the first time you gave me a 'love letter'?"

I was mortified and I buried my face in my hands with a loud groan. It triggered another laughing episode between the two of us. "Shut the fuck up," I groaned loudly, highly embarrassed. "I really didn't know!"

A year after we met, I already knew I loved Jongho and I knew he felt the same, but he wasn't making a move and I got extremely impatient. I wrote him a love letter and decided to put it in his jacket pocket when he wasn't looking.

Imagine my mortification when I found out that the letter was still in my purse and my sanitary pads were gone.

"You were probably so nervous, so you switched them up," he chuckled, amused by the memory even thirteen years later.

We began mellowing down and just enjoyed each other's presence. I was beginning to get woozy and halfway drunk while Jongho still looked okay, though I can tell he was restraining from getting drunk to a point like mine.

"Jongie? My baby bear?" I squeaked out, lids almost dropping down.

"Yes?" Jongho mused after he got over the initial shock of me calling him my favourite thing.

"Why did you leave me?"

He froze midway from drinking out of the soju bottle. He decided to set it back down the table and heaved a massive sigh. "I can't tell you that, blossom," he whispered, the agony of his words dampening the mood.

I swallowed, my tongue itching for one question I swore to ask him if I ever saw him again. "Did you ever love me?"

Silence. A chill in my blood traveled through my head and made me nauseous. I was coherent enough to ask and remember the next day, but I was far too gone to even care if Jongho answered or not.

"My love, you're pushing it," Jongho desperately shook his head. "Don't."

How dare he call me his love? His hypocrisy made me giggle out loud. "It's okay," I lied. "You can't break my heart like I can."

I walked every broken path for this man, fought everyone in my way just so I could have him and him I, yet when push came to shove, he was nowhere to be found.

The hurt and the pain cut deep like a razor blade. There were times that I wanted to end it, for dying felt more justifiable than not having Jongho in my life, but I was a coward; I couldn't do it.

"Hold on to me," Jongho murmured as he started to lift me from the chair and carry me to bed when I started to snooze from the alcohol.

But dying felt unnecessary, I was dead long gone before my conscious body did. Jongho knew how I'd feel if he left, and he still did it. He was content watching me wither away from afar.

He tucked me in like he usually did. He gave me a tender kiss on my head before pressing his forehead on mine. The gesture made my heart clench in my chest. He stayed like that for a while.

"Y/N?" Jongho whispered so softly. I hummed out a reply, I was too sleepy to talk. He shuts his eyes tight. "I am so sorry."

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝟐𝟐, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏

Two months with Jongho felt like a breeze. It wasn't all bad being with him. Ever since that night, we were both on edge for a while but all of that drifted apart when we relaxed a little and communicated more.

I never asked anything about his departure and his career ever again. It drove him away and even though I'm trying not to love him again, my gut always felt sick when I felt that Jongho slipped away when I asked.

Right now, summer was at its peak and I decided to work on my small garden that was directly in front of the driveway. Gardening was something I picked up from years ago to make myself busy and not think too much about Jongho.

And speak of the devil, and he shall come. I felt his presence by the door. "Is there a tech store here somewhere?" Jongho asked.

"Yeah. You know surprisingly, this town literally has everything," I giggled. "It's in the plaza near town square."

"Great. I need to upgrade my computer for my work, so I'm going out."

I froze. He's never gone out without me before, not because he liked taking me or I wanted to go, but because I wanted to show him around since, again, when we moved he wasn't here long enough to explore the town.

"H-How long are you g-going to take?" I brushed past him, not bothering to even face him, and washed my soiled hands in the sink. My heart was beating so fast in anxiety.

"Two hours, maximum. I'll pick up lunch on the way too so you don't have to cook. What do you want?"

Something ugly was beginning to rear its head inside me and I turned around to confront it with him, but for the second time, I froze.

His hair was styled into a purposeful tousle that stopped below his ears, his bangs parted in the middle. He wore this very, very tight shirt that emphasized his bulked out chest and arms. It fit him perfectly, and I swear, they were inviting me in so I can get enveloped in a welcoming embrace.

"Y/N?" Jongho's fingers were snapping to get my attention. "You okay?"

No, I wasn't. When Jongho was met with silence and my teary eyes, he sighed heavily with realization - that I was terrified at the prospect of him leaving and never coming back.

Pain shines in his eyes. He approaches me and grabs my hand to place something in it. "Keep this safe for me, okay?" Jongho murmured. He squeezed my hand and my heart squeezed along with it. "I will need it back."

When I looked down, it was the black card he uses to pay for things - which was everything at this point - and it's all he's been using. I stared at him as he wiped a lone tear from my eyes.

"I'll be back. Be a good girl," he said. Butterflies exploded in my stomach.

Suddenly his phone rang and his expression changed into relief, like he had been expecting that call. It's probably work. Jongho grabbed the back of my head gently and pulled towards him so he could kiss the top hastily before he left.

I stood on the same spot for well over half an hour after. I could still feel the ghost of his kiss on my head and in a daze, I inspected the heavy card. It looked like an ordinary card, but when I looked closer, it was thick, like there was something inside it...

I shook my head. No, Y/N, you need to sleep," I muttered to myself as I laid down on the couch

Soon enough I fell into a short slumber. It was one of those situations where I know I'm asleep but my mind can't stop working. I was scared to hear those screams again.

For the last two months, I've been waking up every single day in a cold sweat because in my dreams, I could hear Jongho scream for help. I felt so helpless every time because my body can't move and I can't seem to find the source of his anguished voice.

I hated nighttime, I hated closing my eyes because it's where he would haunt me the most.

"You excited?"

I nodded with unmatched enthusiasm. "Of course Jongie bear," I giggled. "I don't think we've ever gone out on a date by the beach before..."

It was beautiful. I could my skin crawl with excitement as I stared at the bluest waves, the finest sand against my feet, and the saltiest smell of the ocean before us.

"My blossom, my love, please be careful, I'm begging you," Jongho pleaded with mercy when I excitedly climbed over a railing and balanced on it. It was old with age, and thin with the constant water hitting it.

It resembled a plank more than a railing. "It's okay," I laughed, playfully rolling my eyes at my worried boyfriend. "You'd always catch me---"

Suddenly, I felt rumbling beneath me and the snap of eroded wood that you would never want to ever hear. And then I was falling to the ocean, and I couldn't swim.

But instead of water, I hit solid ground - more wood. It all happened in a split second, Jongho managed to catch up to me and toss me but he can't swim either.

"Jongho!" I screamed as I tried to grab onto his hand, but to no avail. "Jongho!"

There it was. That raw, guttural scream for help that I was forced to listen to as the love of my life slowly disappeared from my sight.

"Y/N! Help me, I can't wake her up!"

I felt someone shake my shoulder and another one try to gently pat my face in an attempt to wake me up from my nightmare. When I opened my eyes, I was met with sighs of relief and a comforting hug.

"You can't scare us like that!" Wooyoung squawked as he let go of my face.

Someone wiped my tears and I realized I was in someone's arms. "I've never seen you like that," Mingi admitted, rubbing my arms for comfort. "You just kept screaming."

"Drink this..."

I greedily took the water that San gave me and gulped the whole thing in one go. My head pounded, the four of us were so close that they just barged in without knocking to hang out, especially now since we're trapped in town with nothing to do.

"Thank you," I murmured.

Mingi was in some of my classes in high school and we were both surprised when we both saw each other move here. He introduced me to sweet Wooyoung and he claimed that I was his 'best friend' and I just went along with him. He was the mutual friend that introduced me to San.

I got out of Mingi's hold and paced back and forth in my living room. "I was screaming?" I was confused. "Was I screaming anything?"

The three of them looked at each other with hesitant faces. The atmosphere in the room got tense, and I frowned. "What?" I joked. "Please tell me I wasn't saying something embarrassing."

"No, you weren't," Wooyoung pursed his lips. "You were screaming Jongho's name over and over again."

It was like a time bomb set into motion, like that song. Truth be told, that dream was the scariest I've had of Jongho so far.

"Your ex?" San frowned. "I thought you had a boyfriend?"

Mingi and Wooyoung's head snapped towards me in record speed, both of their eyes wide in utmost shock. Betrayal coated their features and I gasped softly, I haven't told them about Jongho living with me!

"That big ass guy reminds me of a bear," San chuckled, unaware of my glare at him. "He always comes every other day to buy your favourite snacks."

Jongho had always been attentive. Obviously, my taste in food has changed in five years, but still, he just knew what I liked.

"Ya, we were supposed to tell everything to each other, you traitor," Wooyoung fake sulked.

"Do we know who it is?" Mingi wondered.

I froze. Mingi was dead spot on; he did know Jongho because of our classes, but I've never shown both San and Wooyoung what Jongho looked like because there was simply no need. All they needed to know was my pain.

"You might," San beamed, making me glare at him harder. "Though I haven't seen him before until a couple of months back..."

I was about to retort something to try and wiggle myself out of this sticky situation, when I heard the keys and the doorknob jiggling.

"Why are there so many shoes out here? Y/N?" Jongho's voice grumbled from outside. Shit, shit!

But it was too late. When Jongho entered, his body tensed with mild surprise at two grown adult men smiling ear to ear at him. Mingi's jaw slacked open and he turned to look at me.

"Ah, that's him," San grinned. "Hello, Y/N's boyfriend!"

"Hello, San," Jongho curtly replied in true Jongho fashion. I can tell he was getting annoyed with the onslaught of attention.

It was something that never changed with him - he hated interacting with people he didn't know. He looked around and his eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he composed himself.

"You? Mingi seethed. Wooyoung and San were surprised at the animosity but I wasn't because this was a long time coming.

Mingi charged quickly at Jongho before anyone could stop him and grabbed him by the collar. "You're a piece of work, aren't you?"

Jongho was taken aback a bit, but a nasty smirk covers his face and I can tell Mingi immediately faltered. "Am I?" Jongho taunted.

"What the hell is going on? You know each other?" Wooyoung frowned. He protectively put me behind him. "Stay here for now, okay?"

San took the initiative to try and break them. "Mingi! What are you doing?" San panicked a bit. "He's not bothering you, let go of him!"

Jongho laughed menacingly, his eyes getting sharper and his aura darkening before my very eyes. "You lot are the ones who are bothersome right now."

San's eyes widened and was visibly taken aback at Jongho's venomous attitude and Mingi's hands noticeably loosened its grip.

"How are you, Mingi?" Jongho patted Mingi's back threateningly with a smirk. "Miss me?"

"Bastard!" Mingi spat and harshly shoved Jongho away from him.

"Stop it!" Wooyoung hissed as he rubbed my arms in comfort. "Can you guys not do this in front of Y/N?"

Jongho quickly regained his footing but not before San tried to help him. Jongho roughly shoved San off of him. "Woah, woah buddy," San put his arms in defense. "I'm just---"

"Get away from him," Mingi gritted his teeth and pointed at Jongho. San, being the helpful person he is, refused until Mingi spoke. "You have one minute to explain why you're here, Choi Jongho."

San gasped and his arms turned limp from his sides. "What did you say?" he hissed, pointing vehemently at a bored looking Jongho. "This is your ex?"

Everyone turned to look at me, even Wooyoung. I looked down at the floor in shame and I nodded. Mingi marched towards me and grabbed my arm to go to the other corner of the room while the other three tried to settle in.

Jongho's eye twitched as he turned to look at San. "Why didn't you tell me?" San snarled.

"You never asked," Jongho scoffed. "I've been paying with my card with my name on it and you never saw?"

"So," Mingi turned to me with his arm crossed. I sheepishly smiled at him but it wasn't working. "When are you going to tell us that you're back with your ex?"

"I-I wasn't!" I sputtered out at his bluntness.

"Jongho sure as hell ain't denying it," Mingi deadpanned. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

"Nothing," I shook my head. "He won't be here for long anyway."

It pained me to say it, but it was true. Mingi bit his lip in apprehension. "And how do you feel about that? Do you still love him?"

I froze. It wasn't something I thought about ever since he came along two months ago. "I don't know," I admitted, much to Mingi's dismay.

"Goddamn it, Y/N," he cursed. "You're setting yourself up for failure, and this time, it might hurt more."

When Mingi and I got back, Wooyoung and Jongho were in a heated verbal match with San interjecting a piece of his mind occasionally.

"You should have never come back," Wooyoung hissed, his attitude rivaling Jongho's. "And then what? You're going to leave again?"

Jongho's eyes blazed. "Watch your tongue or have it cut from your head."

I choose to sit between Jongho and Wooyoung so they won't have a fist fight. "Jongho, please stop," I pleaded. "You're making it worse."

Jongho glared at Wooyoung, his eyes focused and unblinking. At first, Wooyoung stood his ground and stared back, but when Jongho grinned and bared his teeth, Wooyoung caved in and crumbled.

"You don't scare me," Wooyoung mumbled - a total lie.

"And I don't like you," Jongho scoffed arrogantly.

My eyes widened. Five years ago, Jongho was never this straightforward and I could tell Mingi was a bit taken aback too. Wooyoung squawked at the admission.

"I don't like you either," Wooyoung huffed. "You hurt my best friend!"

The whole afternoon was spent with San and Wooyoung arguing with Jongho back and forth, but I couldn't shake off what Mingi said. Jongho showed no signs of wanting to up and leave but what's to say that he's only biding his time until the bridge is done.

I shuddered. It was possible. With Jongho, the future is uncertain and nothing is set in stone.

"Forgive me for saying this," San said sarcastically. "We were here when you upped and left Y/N."

"Exactly," Wooyoung interjected. "You can't just show up like nothing ever happened!"

"I hate to say it, Jongho, but they're right," Mingi shrugged.

Jongho leaned forward. There was an unmistakable gleam of cynicism in his eyes. "So," he began. "You mean to tell me that all of you are opposed to me staying here?"

"Yes," all three of them said at the same time.

Jongho nodded. "Fantastic. I shall stay longer, then."

He stood up and made his way to his bedroom with all of our mouths agape with his audacity. "Call me when you've kicked these cretins out, I'm going to take a nap," he told me before he shut the door.

"What?!" Wooyoung screeched as he stood up from the couch so fast, I got a whiplash. "That bastard!"

It took a while but I had managed to convince these three that I was going to be fine. The moment they all left, I managed to let out the breath that I didn't even realize I was holding. The cat's out of the bag now, so that's one less thing to worry about.

I knocked softly on Jongho's door to see if he was okay, but there was no response, so I'm assuming he fell asleep.

Bored, I plopped down the couch and turned the television on. The last time I turned this on was when I was watching out for the storm and it was still as mundane as ever. I shook my head as I flipped through channels.

Finally, I managed to settle on one that's watchable enough. Animal Kingdom. Fine, I could live with that. I groaned hard when a commercial came in, but instead of the regular commercials, this was a newscast.

"Coming all the way from our Korean Intelligence Agency live is Deputy Director Jeong..."

I frowned. Now that I think about it, there was this ongoing case of a well-known mafia in the city that the government was trying to take down. I raised the volume up to hear.

"Sir, would you say that we are close to solving this? And what about the infamous bank heist by the south of Seoul?"

Now that caught my attention. Jongho used to work in that bank when we were still starting out our relationship.

"We are doing our very best. We are closer than ever to---"

I was confused when the television suddenly turned black. I looked behind me and Jongho was glaring holes at the television as he held the remote control.

"You should go to sleep," he said, voice tight. "It's getting late."

I didn't know how to react. This wasn't the first time that Jongho turned off either my television or his car radio when we drove somewhere.

Deep down, I knew he was hiding something. I'm not foolish enough to not speculate. "I'm not sleepy yet," I said. "Would you like to watch something else with me then?"

"No," Jongho gritted his teeth. I jumped a bit on how harsh his voice had become.

But something in me snapped. "Choi Jongho," I marched towards him until I was directly on his face. "I understand perfectly well that you have problems with your career or whatever, after all, you left me for it."

Jongho's lips twist into a sneer and then he scoffs, but I cut him off. "I don't deserve this, this is my house," I stood my ground. "You can't act like you own it when you haven't even told me why!"

"Your house?" Jongho growled in anger, his tongue pressing against cheek in arrogance. "My name is still in the deed."

"So what?" I retorted with equal arrogance. "I'm the one who made this a home rather than just a place to sleep in!"

"I'm not telling you anything, we've talked about this!" Jongho raised his voice in frustration as he turned to walk away from me. "Why are you so dead set on finding out?"

"Are you hearing yourself?" I screeched. "We belonged to each other at one point, the least you could do is tell me!"

"How much of me are you willing to take?" Jongho banged his palms on the dining table, the sound of it echoing in the distance. "There's nothing left for you to take, don't you understand?"

"Why are you acting like this is my fault?" I screamed in frustration. "I've taken your bullshit for you! You have no respect!"

I also went to the table and banged my hands on it as well, just to show that he can't push me around like he used to. "Give me your reason!"

"Because I hate that I need you! Then, and right now," Jongho confessed in one breath.

My arms went limp at the revelation of his thoughts all along. When Jongho looked at me again, his eyes rimmed red as his chest rose up and down

When we were young, Jongho was my solace - my salvation, my everything. In another life, we could have had children by now, we could have been that couple that grew old and gray. But the truth was right here in front of me, I was the only one to ever have these dreams.

He'd made up his choice a long time ago, I was the only one holding on to a distant memory. This one hurt far worse than when Jongho left, because right now, I can't drive a nail through his mistakes.

"Y/N, please," Jongho's voice brought me out of that darkness. He still sounded angry, but he also sounded desperate.

His hand reaches out to cup my face and his thumb strokes my skin. "You're the only thing that's keeping me alive. Please, go to sleep."

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝟑𝟏, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏

I awoke to cold sweat again, the stickiness of it uncomfortable with how my shirt had clung to my skin. I sighed, another nightmare.

There were nights I fell asleep only because I got too tired from staying awake. I couldn't concentrate much when I woke up from the lack of sleep and it was concerning me.

Jongho and I haven't been on speaking terms for a week or so. His words had plagued my mind since then, but that's not what woke me up tonight.

The screams were back. Jongho's screams in my head were back.

With a heavy sigh and a massive headache, I got up from my bed and left the room to grab a glass of water. I didn't even bother putting on pants, I knew Jongho wouldn't be out in the dead of night.

"Get away from me..."

I paused midway from the glass touching my lips. I looked around, spooked that I was hearing things that I wasn't supposed to because of the sleep deprivation. I waited a little to see if I was going to hear something again.

"Please!"

A high-pitched, grating scream resounded from the entire house and I dropped the glass in shock. The sound of the glass breaking got drowned out from, yet again, another guttural scream.

At first, I thought someone from outside was asking for help and their voice was loud enough to filter in the house, but when another scream resounded, I gasped and slapped my hands over my mouth in a heartbreaking discovery.

It was the same scream in my dreams. The scream was coming from Jongho's room, and all this time, it was never a dream.

"Jongho?" I worriedly knocked on his door. My knocks got louder and louder, more frantic, when he didn't respond. "Jongho, please!"

His repeated screams pierced my heart. I tried everything I could as I screamed his name in urgency - punching the door, jiggling the doorknob, even kicking the door even though I knew it would be fruitless - but nothing.

An idea popped in my head and I quickly acted upon it. Tears started freely flowing from my eyes pathetically as my hands shook too much from finding the right key in Jongho's room. All this time, Jongho was having nightmares and I didn't even realize or help.

"Fuck, fuck!" I hissed when I dropped the keys. No matter what I did, I couldn't stop my shaking hands.

I almost tripped on my feet when I quickly rushed into the bedroom. My heart broke when I looked at Jongho. He was contorted into an odd angle onto himself, his face red and his entire body sweating. He had no shirt on, but I couldn't even care about that right now.

"Jongho, love, please wake up," I tried shaking him gently so he wouldn't freak out when he woke up, but when that didn't work, I tried again.

I burst out in pitiful tears when Jongho let out an anguished groan. His voice was agonizing, primal even, and my heart couldn't handle seeing him like this.

"Jongho, come on now, wake up," I tapped his beautiful face a little harder this time. But that also didn't do anything.

In desperation, I peppered his face with little kisses while also shaking him. "Jongho!" I said out loud since gentle methods didn't work. But nothing.

What did work was when I thumped my fists on his hard chest. It was my turn to scream when Jongho suddenly grabbed me and flipped me on the bed so he was on top of me. He started choking me in a blinded rage and I clawed his hands in a panic.

"J-Jongho, i-it's me," I coughed, wheezing as I felt the oxygen leave my body. "B-Baby bear, p-please..."

The light seemed to come back to his eyes and they slowly melted from this hallucination to something more sentient. I took a big gulp of breath when he let go and wheezed uncontrollably. Jongho's horrified face put two and two together when he stared at the red marks on my neck.

"Oh God," he choked. He hurriedly grabbed my shoulders as he smoothed my hair out of my face so he could see. "I am so, so sorry, are you okay?"

I nodded and unconsciously held onto his arm. "Are you okay?" I worriedly asked.

"For fuck's sake, love, can you please try and worry about yourself for once? I choked you, for crying out loud!" Jongho said, irritation lacing his features.

"I'm good, seriously, I expected it," I assured him truthfully. I pressed a hand to his face and caressed it. "How are you feeling?"

His body froze at the gesture and a storm started to brew in his eyes as he hesitated to move. I bit my lip and nodded. It looked like a huge weight was lifted off of his shoulders as he closed his eyes and nuzzled his face in my hands.

A realization started to slowly dawn on me. The fear I felt as Jongho slowly slipped from my fingers just now was the proof of my love for him.

The intimacy of our setup right now also slowly dawns on me. A chill went up my spine when Jongho kissed my palm. The chill further down and I almost cursed when I realized that I was only wearing my shirt and my panties, no bra.

Jongho seemed to realize it at the same time. He slowly traced my skin with his eyes from my legs, my stiff nipples, and my face. I wasn't faring any better - Jongho's toned chest was up my face. I gulped, he was much bigger than I remembered him to be.

"May I?" Jongho tugged my shirt. When I nodded and raised my arms, Jongho hastily took my shirt off.

His breath hitched as he looked at me over, the desire in his eyes overpowering the nightmares that plagued his mind.

He hovered over me as I laid down flatly on the bed. I let out a breathy moan when he started to kiss the sweet spots on my neck as his rough hand gently kneaded my tits. I whispered his name directly in his ear when he rolled my nipples in between his fingers.

"You know," he pulled away to spread my legs so he could go in between them. "This was my favourite position when I was with you."

It caught me off guard. I blushed at his crudeness and straightforwardness. "Why?" I asked.

"Because," he began. I gasped when he humped my clothed pussy. "The way I could go deeper in you always made my head spin, especially when I see your fucked out face when you're close."

My eyes widened. Sure, back then, Jongho would talk dirty, but he never talked this dirty. I couldn't hold back a loud moan when he humped particularly hard against me.

He leaned down directly to my ear and whispered sensually. "But I especially love when you scream my name when you beg me to make you come."

"Kiss me," I blurted out.

Jongho growled before he held the back of my head and pulled my lips to his. It was passionate, but at the same time, filthy. It was years and years of longing and want. I felt wetness down there when I felt his hard cock twitch inside his sweatpants.

"Jongho," I moaned as I tried to pull away, but he kept trying to chase my lips with his. "Jongho..."

"Mmm," he complained in between his kisses. It took everything in me not to keep going.

"Maybe we should stop," I squealed when his hand brushed against my inner thigh and pussy.

"We should," he agreed, his voice hoarse with want. "One more and I will."

This time, he claimed my lips stronger. He groaned in my mouth when I pulled on his hair as we both blindly touched each other in random places. But eventually, Jongho had to reluctantly break the kiss.

One thing that never did change was his sweetness and aftercare. He put my shirt back on and we both laid down next to each other with his arm around me and my head on his chest.

"I've been having these nightmares for a while," Jongho said out loud all of a sudden. "I've done...things I will regret for the rest of my life."

He kissed the top of my head. "Things you don't want to know."

He was right. If it's supposed to be like this, then I don't want to know what's bothering him because the more he dives into it, the more I get hurt seeing him fight the demons I don't even dare expose myself to.

"I'm trying to help you," I said, despite my thoughts. "It always seems like you're always running away."

"Maybe because I am," he sighed. "I've been a prisoner in my own hands for a while now."

"I'm sorry," was all I could say. I wanted to say that he wasn't the only one; I've been trapped and enslaved in my own mind for so long that I'm surprised that I haven't lost my mind yet.

When Jongho didn't say anything else, I slowly got up from his hold. I already missed his warmth. "I should get going so you can rest," I mumbled.

When my feet were close to touching the floor, I felt his hands hold on my arm to stop me. "Wait," Jongho whispered.

I was taken aback by how soft his voice was, especially if I was comparing it from a week ago when we had that argument. He pulled me to his lap, his head nuzzling the corner of my neck. I blushed profusely, I didn't even feel this way when we made out.

"Stay," his muffled voice requested as his hug became tighter. "I need you right now."

"Jongho," I whined softly. There was nothing left to say, we were blurring the lines between a host helping an old friend out. I bit my lip, to be fair, we already blurred that line earlier when we made out.

"Just for tonight," he bargained. "Then we can ignore each other again tomorrow."

I know I shouldn't. The logical part of my ego is aware that this was a terrible idea, but the emotional part of my psyche wants me to give myself to my desires just this once.

I crawled out of his lap and positioned myself comfortably on the bed. "How can I go back to ignoring you after this?" I mumbled as he started to spoon me.

"You don't," he answered. "It was hell to know you're here with me but refused to talk."

I hummed. "You know it was your fault right?"

"Yes," he admitted. "Let's catch up on some sleep now, okay?"

"Are you insane?!" I buried my face in my hands. "Don't scare me like that ever again!"

Jongho laughed, his face breaking out into the most beautiful ray of sunshine as he smoothed his wet hair out of his face. He hugged me as tears started to flow from my eyes.

"Hush now, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd react this bad," he rubbed my back for added comfort.

"Are you kidding?" I sniffled, shuffling my feet to turn and point at the spot where Jongho had fallen by the ocean as a prank. "That scream you'd let out, I thought that was the end of you, you bastard!"

"I'm so sorry," he chuckled at my pouty face. He pouted, how could I resist him? "Let's go swimming properly now, okay? This beach is perfect for us."

I just knew after that, that I will never hear that scream ever again.

My eyes flew open for absolutely no reason this time. My heart was beating out of control when I did. I didn't feel good, I'm about to throw up.

Something was very wrong. There was a sense of impending doom looming over me that I can't explain.

Or maybe I'm just too exhausted and paranoid. I moved my hand to hug Jongho for comfort but my heart could burst out of my ribcage when all my hands touched were pillows and blankets.

I could feel tears forming in my eyes faster than my mind could comprehend as I rose up quickly from the bed. I did it so fast that blood rushed towards my head and it rendered me nauseous. I almost cursed when I tripped on my two feet, but no matter, I had to find Jongho.

There was only one thing in my mind - had he left me again?

It was definitely a panic attack rising. The room was spinning, the overwhelming doom and desperation was making me function, but it was difficult. What might be something as innocent as Jongho maybe using the bathroom had distorted into something horrifying in my mind.

It's terror, it's shame, it's desperation and it's death all at once.

"You know they're just going to find you, correct?"

I rejoiced at the voice I heard, but all that doom came rushing back when I realized that the voice did not belong to my beloved.

"Of course, I do. You play me for a fool."

That was Jongho, but the way he spoke terrified me. I quickly rushed to the backyard when I realized that the voices belonged there, but I stopped when I took a quick peek at the window overlooking there. My heart dropped, I wasn't expecting anything, but I definitely wasn't expecting another man to be with Jongho.

"What do you want?" Jongho snarled lowly, his voice taking a darker turn. "It must be important if you made your unwelcome presence known."

The man laughed heartily. "Oh Jongho, straightforward as always," he smirked. "Fear not, I won't take long. How's life as a domesticated man?"

"You shut your fucking mouth, or I'll make sure you never talk again," Jongho hissed. He took a step of two towards the man, who didn't even flinch. Rather, he looked amused, like he knew Jongho wouldn't go through with it.

As for me, I felt freezing water pour over me as the cold reality of what Jongho said rang through my head. My Jongho was sweet and kind, and this man in front of me was not him.

"Feisty," the man grinned sadistically. "You know I love that fire inside of you. Quite a shame that you don't want to be something more."

I didn't move or even breathe. More than what? Something tells me I wasn't supposed to be listening to this.

"You say that as if it's such a bad thing," Jongho smirked.

"It's not," the man admitted. "But for the life we lead, it can be."

"Cut the crap, Hongjoong. Tell me what you want."

"Say 'please' and I'll think about it."

Jongho's laugh afterwards made my body rigid. It was sinister - evil. This was the man who bared his heart and soul to me last night, and he wasn't one for feelings to begin with. I never thought I'd get scared of Jongho, until now.

I strained my ears when they talked in hushed tones. I couldn't hear any but if I moved even an inch, I might get discovered. If this was the choice that Jongho made after he left me, then God bless us all.

"In all seriousness," the man - Hongjoong - spoke. "That's all I know. I won't tell anyone you're here, but if I were you, I would do something about it."

"You think I give a fuck about all of this?" Jongho snapped, his loud voice piercing through the night. He looked nothing short of terrifying. "Do not lie to me, I'm the worst person you can lie to and you know it."

"Or you could just call it quits. You know what to do," Hongjoong tilted his head in amusement. He reminded me of an undertaker for some reason.

I gasped but quickly covered my mouth with my shaking hands. My heart stopped beating for a bit as I watched Jongho hold out a gun and point the other end at Hongjoong, whose expression changed from amused to irritated.

"Or you can tell me what you know or I'll put a hole on your head and look for it, myself," Jongho threatened, his hold on the gun firm and absolute.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Hongjoong's lips curl to a taunting sneer. "What would she say? What's her name again? Y/N?"

Flashes of memories go through my head one by one. I still remember the day we first kissed. Jongho was so shy at that time he didn't even want to look at me. It was slow, sweet, and sure. I also remember the first time we laid under the stars and watched the shooting star. My wish back then was for Jongho to stay the way he is. And he told me he would.

What a terrible lie that had been. The Jongho I knew held my hands, not the cold barrel of a pistol.

"Keep her out of this," Jongho snarled, his hands clearly shaking from where I was with rage. "No mafia is going to stop me from destroying all of you if you involve her, so whatever you're thinking, think again."

“You’re the one who should think twice, Jongho,” Hongjoong hissed as he tips the gun away from his face with his. “We have an audience.”

My heart exploded then and there when Hongjoong’s eyes met mine. He was smirking, but there was a hint of regret in his eyes, something he didn’t hide. How did he know I was here? Had he known I was eavesdropping all this time? It was as if he wanted me to hear everything.

Jongho visibly stiffened before he turned to also look at me with disbelieving eyes. I couldn’t help the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes - he looked utterly defeated and devastated at the sight of me. It was the face of a man whose whole world was falling right before his very eyes.

There was only one expression I could give him - fear.

“Blossom,” Jongho croaked as he dropped his gun, as if it disgusted him, but we both knew it didn’t. “I can explain…”

Before I knew it, I was running away from the scene - away from Jongho - like if I pretended that I wasn’t there, then surely none of those happened. I ran as fast as I with my wobbling legs as I heard the back door swing open and slam close, signaling that Jongho was here.

I felt like free falling, what had my beloved become? Who was this criminal living with me? What had he dragged me into now that there was someone like Hongjoong who knew I existed and how important I was to Jongho? I was no fool, despite my emotions, I knew what their conversation insinuated.

And then the regret came. If I had held onto Jongho a little tighter five years ago, would he be the same person I once knew? If I had just searched for him a little harder back then, would I have pulled him away from this darkness that clouded him?

It hurt seeing the love of my life transform into something I knew he wasn’t.

I screamed bloody murder when I felt a hand hold my arm like a vice, refusing to let go. “Y/N, look at me,” he demanded with the same authoritative voice he used outside. When he saw the fear in my eyes, he softened.

“No, Jongho, get away from me!” I cried out as I tried to pull my arm away, but it only resulted in him holding them tighter. “Jongho!”

“No,” he growled. “We’re going to talk---Y/N!”

Somehow, through pure adrenaline, I was able to twist my arm free from him to quickly enter my room and lock the door shut. My heart was about to fly out of my ribcage with the emotions I was feeling and I didn’t even know which one to acknowledge first.

“Y/N! Open the fucking door!” Jongho shouted as he violently rammed on the door like it was a punching bag. “You better not let me catch you once I break this fucking door! Open it!”

I broke down sobbing as all the energy left my body. I sank down by the corner of my room, burying my face in my knees while I covered my ears with both my hands to block out Jongho’s violent rage outside the door. Each bang had me jumping out of my skin, the terrifying sound rattling my head.

This wasn’t my Jongho, I kept chanting to myself like a crazed person, but I can’t deny it any longer.

I knew this wasn't him the moment he stepped inside the house. He was different - he was angrier, more temperamental, soulless - and all this time, I kept making excuses for him, but I can’t anymore.

I screamed in terror when the doorknob was kicked with force and Jongho used that opportunity to slam the door open. When he tried to march towards me, I screamed again as I backed away.

“Don’t come near me!” I sobbed pitifully, my shaking legs almost giving out from the weight of my emotions.

Jongho looked devastated. He kept reaching out to me but all I did was back away and shout at him. “Please, love, please,” his voice cracked. “I’m not going to hurt you, please don’t look at me like that…”

“Like what?” I glared at him as I felt my blood pressure rise to a dangerous level. Something in him snapped with how mad I sounded.

"Like I'm vile," he spat, his glare leveling mine. "Like I'm a monster. You don't know anything, so quit it."

I scoffed loudly. It ticked him off but I didn't stop. I feel like I was slowly losing myself to this massive disconnect from reality. I am losing my mind.

"Does the man become the monster, or the monster become man?" Uncontrollable tears were now falling from my eyes. Something snapped and all I saw was red.

But I wasn't the only one. "Yeah, you think you're smart?" Jongho laughed out loud like the maniac he had become in my eyes. It was the type that seeped through my bones. "You want to know what I did? You really want to know?"

Without breaking eye contact, he pulled out the same gun I saw earlier and he disassembled it right in front of me. He wasn't gentle with it either, he was rough; deliberate. I nearly jumped out of my skin when he slammed the remnants of it by the bedside table I had.

"I've used this far too many times that I can remember," he hissed. "You think that this is some sort of game that I can just pause just because this life isn't going according to what you want right now? You think that this world revolves around you?"

He spat on the ground as I felt the sinews of my heart break. "Did you honestly think I was that same man you knew before, Y/N? Did you honestly think that we could ever go back to being the same?"

"You said it yourself, didn't you?" I snapped. "There was nothing left to take---"

"So hate me for the things I've done!" Jongho raised his voice before he rubbed his face, frenzied. "But not for what I've now become."

I was at a loss for words, taken aback with how frantic we both had become in each other's presence. "We're basically strangers now," I gritted my teeth. "You have no right to talk about this like you're the victim!"

Jongho's face melted into something of concern when he realized that my sanity was slowly slipping away from me. I laughed, and then I laughed some more, and then I cried. I cried so hard even Jongho was surprised at all the hurt I was holding in.

"Everybody kept telling me to move on, to find someone else when they see how lonely I've become," I took a deep breath, but all that did was strengthen my resolve to break something. "They don't get it, I physically, mentally cannot move on."

"I gave you five years to do it," Jongho said as if it was so simple. Everything stopped all at once, except for the

That did it. I screamed, that spiral within me surging my voice to let out all the pain, the anger, the melancholy. The need to hit and destroy something became so overwhelming and worst of all, I had no idea how to let it all out.

"I hate you!" I wailed as I swiped everything I saw - glass, paper, furniture - anything. Jongho tried to go to me but all I did was hit him in the chest. "I hate you! You don't know, Choi Jongho, I was driven to madness with denial, you make me fucking sick!"

He narrowly avoided me as I tried to lunge at him. "Stop this!" Jongho hissed. I can feel the anger in me start to form. All the denial, the hate, was overtaking me.

I tried to thrash away in panic when I felt Jongho's hands steady me, the remorse and sorrow evident on his face, because he knows - he knows that he did this to me. He drove me to my insanity.

"Shh, baby, please," Jongho shushed as he tried to hold me, but my adrenaline was stronger than the both of us. "It's okay, shh, I'm sorry, I'm here now---"

"No!" I shrieked, my throat not being able to take it. I punched, kicked, scratched at anything, my vision was black. "You killed what was left of the good in me! Let me go!"

"I got you, my love, I got you," Jongho hushed me like I was a child that needed comfort and reaffirmation. "Just like that, let it out on me..."

My screams were muffled when Jongho brought me to his chest. He held my arms behind me for good measure and it was when everything came crashing down. I sobbed pitifully in the arms of the very man I swore to love and hate for as long as I lived.

"You're doing good, baby, let it out," Jongho rubbed all over my back. "Everything's going to be okay..."

"Jongho, please," I begged as he kissed the top of my head over and over again. "I'm so exhausted, please let me be broken..."

"How?" he whispered. "You're not broken, stop saying that."

I couldn't feel my body when Jongho laid me down on the bed. All I did was stare at the ceiling while he leaned his head on my chest. He stayed like that for a while, unmoving.

"Stay here," he murmured. I saw his misty eyes when I got up, but he tried his very best to hide it from me. Was he crying for me or was it for the burden I caused him?

I laid there for what felt like forever, the dissociation of my body from my conscious mind weighing heavily in my mind. Everything hurts - my body, my heart, my soul, Jongho. Shame trickled but I couldn't seem to care right now. I had just temporarily lost my mind on Jongho, how was I supposed to look him in the eye again?

All the things I've said, I can't take them back. Not that I would, everything I said was the God-honest truth.

So hate me for the things I've done, but not for what I've now become.

But I could never, ever hate him. It was such a sad way to live, because I knew I'd still love him from the bottom of my heart even if he's worse than a monster. I would take all of him and more, I would give him all of me just so he can always have more backups in case he ever felt empty.

I would kill for him. That's how much I loved him.

"I'm going to bathe you," he said rather than ask when he came back. "We can either do it here so you wouldn't have to walk, or we can go to the bathroom."

I stopped the urge to smile. Leave it to this man to still stay sane and rational even after a horrible mental crisis. I shook my head, indicating that I had no interest in walking, and he took that queue to start undressing me.

There was nothing malicious about it as he stripped me naked. He was deadest focused on soothing me and making me feel better by using the basin and damp cloth on my body. But why did it make me feel worse?

"Was it something I did?" I whispered. I was treading on dangerous waters here. "Was it my fault that you left me?"

While I knew I didn't influence Jongho directly on his decisions, I can't help but believe that everything was my fault as to why he'd turn into the darker side of life. "Where did I go wrong?"

He paused from dabbing the cloth on my chest. I didn't realize how close he was until he looked me straight in the eye. "Is that how you see it?" he asked, his breath fanning my lips as he tucked a stray hair from my face. "You think that this was your fault?"

Fresh set of tears flowed down my eyes, but instead of anger, they were from the loss of out blossoming love. "If not me, then who?" I smiled through them. "C-Can you tell me if there was something that I needed to change in myself back then?"

It stung to ask it, but I had to. Grief passed through Jongho's eyes as he completely stopped what he was doing. It made my heart ache because I've never seen him look this sad before. He set down the cloth back in the basin and he got into the bed beside me.

He grabbed my chin to make me look at him. "I hate that it seemed you were never enough," he pursed his lips. "Nothing I can do will ever put all your tears back in your eyes, but I can assure you, you were perfect."

In that split second before his touch, every nerve in my body and brain was awakened. It's the anticipation of being together in a way that's more than words - in a way that's so completely tangible. The tension was palpable.

"Then tell me all the things that you regret," I coaxed with gentle persuasion as his hand traveled all over my naked body. He hissed, like he was now just realizing that I was in my naked glory right in front of him.

Jongho shook his head. "The regrets are useless in my mind," he murmured, his breathing laboured. "But if I must confess, you never left my damn mind for five years. I never hated that I needed you."

"And if I'm being honest," Jongho leaned in to give my shoulders sweet kisses. "I'm not over you. Never will be."

I tried to cover my modesty by putting my arms on my chest, not that he hasn't seen anything before. He grabbed my hand firmly and set it down. "Don't," he warned.

The way he stared at me had me mesmerized. I've seen this look, but I never noticed how intense they were. His eyes could burn me down, and it was everything I ever needed and wanted. but at the same time, it was the sanest out of all the madness and possessiveness he held.

Jongho was my drug, I realized. I was instantly intoxicated. "You're going to break me," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Jongho's arms wrapped around my back and in one touch, everything was over. "Then I'm going to make sure I break you in the best way possible."

Our bodies still fit together even after all these years; our lips molded with each other. I was never meant to win - I need him but if I give in, then I lose everything. But losing everything seemed so little in comparison.

I feel his hand wrap around my hair and tug it lightly and it makes me sigh a little in between our kisses. "I love the little sounds you make," he murmured as he tugged my hair harder. He tugged it so hard, my head fell backwards.

"Jongho," I groaned at the inexplicable pleasure the pain brought.

My hands tightened their grip on his shirt as his hands traveled everywhere, each touch igniting a fire that cannot be extinguished. "You've always been mine," I felt his hand move from my cheeks to my mouth. "Even if you were with someone else, you were still mine. Tell me, did you let anyone touch you?"

I was at a loss for words. His thick, veiny hands suddenly wrapped itself around my throat, his eyes were cold as his gaze remained determined. I squeaked when Jongho tightened the choke. The pleasure was insurmountable. We've never had it rough during our time together and the very thought of happening now made my stomach churn in excitement.

"No," I breathed out. "Only you."

"That's right," he chuckled darkly. I let out a soft squeal when he licked a stripe on my exposed neck. "God knows what I'd do if I found out you did. Nobody touches my whore but me, yes?"

I felt a small tingle at the base of my spine and I let them spread all over my body. I bit my lip, highly turned on, and it didn't escape Jongho's attention. He smirked, a wicked look that overtook his soft features.

"Aw, is my little slut wet?" he mocked as his hand slowly went down and down. I whined when he stopped directly above my pubic area. He laughed when I tried to gyrate my hips up, but Jongho deliberately pushed me down. "Ah ah ah," he grinned sadistically. "You're not getting off unless I say so, got it?"

"Then what the hell are we doing this for?" I snapped.

The moment I said those, I instantly regretted it. His eyes widened at my defiance before he snapped out of it and roughly grabbed my cheeks and squeezed it. It whined because it hurt but it only encouraged him to squeeze even tighter.

”You misunderstand something,” he began. “I have no problem leaving you here dripping while you beg for your hole to get fucked, but let’s get one thing straight.”

His words sent a chill through me, and his voice was this smooth, dangerously low tone, but it was sharp and firm. “You’re mine. You know what that means? I get to do whatever I want with you. You just have to say ‘yes’.”

I know I shouldn’t as this was far from my personality, but I was to be a brat for him just to see how he’d discipline me. “Go fuck yourself,” I hissed.

He raised a brow, smirking at the game I was playing. He begins to pull me forward as his lips finally create their mark on my skin. And then, he bit my shoulders as hard as he could. Wetness rushed through my core at the intense pain, but when he didn’t let go, I screamed in protest.

"Say you're sorry," he murmurs softly. I feel the hairs at the back of my neck rise.

"I'm not saying sor--"

My voice is cut off as he shoves two fingers into my mouth. "If you’re not going to, then I’d rather you keep your mouth shut," he sneered in that condescending tone I know so well.

His thick wet fingers slid from my mouth when he saw me tremble. He effortlessly towered over me when he laid me down and for a second, his facade fell as his eyes searched mine for permission. Despite the haze, I smiled at him, and before I knew it, his lips were on mine.

It was more intense than when we made out before. It was raw and it left both of us breathless. It could have made tears in my eyes; I could tell he was pouring all the things he couldn’t tell me in this one single kiss. I mewled when I felt his roam all over me while our tongues were tangled in a fierce battle for dominance.

I felt his hand go lower and lower until I felt that telltale pleasure I’ve been craving for. “Mmm,” I let out a breathy moan when Jongho’s finger traced my slit. “P-Please…”

”Take it then,” he groaned when he put a finger inside. My fingers grip the sheets as every thrust of his finger made me moan louder and louder.

He didn’t stay long in there but he made up for it when he began to stroke my throbbing clit. His other hand made its way up one of my swollen nipples, flicking it the same time as he did down there made me almost come undone.

’”That’s enough,” he deadpanned as he suddenly stopped and then he pulled away.

”Jongho!” I whined in frustration, pressing my thighs together to find relief, but he grabbed them so I wouldn’t be able to do anything. The only sign that he was into this like I am was the big tent on his crotch.

I blushed profusely. Years and years of pent up sexual frustration was getting to me, and now that Jongho was right here in front of me watching me almost beg for his cock, the feeling was exhilarating.

“Come here,” he growled. I squealed when he suddenly spread my legs and got in between them.

It was embarrassing but I couldn’t even think of that because he suddenly buried his face in my pussy. He hooks my legs up his shoulders and the intensity of his tongue had me dizzy with pleasure. “Jongho—”

”Less talking, more moaning,” he demanded with a painful squeeze to my thighs.

I didn’t need to be told twice. Pleasure rips through me as he lapped on my cunt like he was a starved man. When I tried to wriggle away, he snaked his arms around my thighs, effectively locking me down into place. Suddenly, he slapped my ass, tongue still working on my clit.

“Fucking hell, Jongho, love,” a long moan came out from me when the sting of his slap added to my growing pleasure. He did it again, his palms smacking my behind so hard, I jut forward the bed. And he does it again, and again, and again. It left me a blubbering mess as I uttered his name like a prayer.

”You little slut,” he hissed. Slap. “Yes, take it.“ Slap. “Fuck, you look beautiful like this,” Slap. “Take it, take it.” Slap. “Fucking take it!”

”Jongho, please, please!” I cried in mixed pain and pleasure. I was pretty sure I’d bruise the next day because my skin felt very raw.

“Beg for it,” Jongho sucked and lapped my juices again. “Come on, Y/N, beg for it like the whore you are.”

”Please, please, please!” I sobbed, tears falling from my eyes. He groaned at my pitiful state. “Make me come, please! I really, really love you, please!”

I screamed when he inserted two fingers inside me and began sliding them in and out, the wet sounds of my pussy rivaling how loud my moans were. “That’s what I want to fucking hear,” he chuckled darkly. “Say it again. Look at me when you say it.”

I arched my back involuntarily as I chased that high Jongho was willing to give me. His fingers pistoned in and out and I rocked my hips against him to meet his thrusts. “I love you, Jongho, I love you,” I choked out. I was overstimulated, the line between pleasure and pain blurring out.

He goes faster, if it is possible. My moans were desperate, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Then come,” he demanded. “If you really love me, then fucking come for me.”

The force of my orgasm had me reeling with a loud scream. It had me seeing white for the first time in a while as my back arched into an angle where it would have been unnatural had it not been for the quivering climax Jongho's fingers subjected me into.

He leaned in and gave me sweet kisses all over my face. "You okay, love?" Jongho murmured softly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and nodded. "Good. Because now I need my fill."

It took me a minute to recover and my eyes widened at his crudeness. He smiles sadistically. "I don't care if you can't take it. I'm going to fuck you anyway."

I whimpered in response, my entire body flushing with heat as my pussy clenched onto nothing. I could not believe that I was getting off to Jongho being this dominant and rough. It certainly scratched that itch I've been trying to relieve for a while now.

I did not want to just have sex, I needed to get fucked.

"I can see it in your eyes, you know?" he chuckled as he slowly undressed himself. My mouth ran dry when I finally got a glimpse of his body - he was huge. That included his cock. "You need to be taken, pounded like the fucktoy you are."

He grabbed my hair and aligned my mouth to his throbbing erection. "Suck," he demanded. He didn't wait for me to accommodate him, he just straight up thrusted in my mouth until he bottomed out.

I gagged but he didn't stop right there. My muffled chokes spurred him on, my eyes started to water as tears rolled down my cheeks and saliva mixed with his salty precum started to drip to my chin. He groaned, low and breathy, picking up a good angle as his balls started to slap against my chin.

"You dirty little whore," he growled, gripping my hair tightly. "You love choking on my cock, don't you?"

I whispered a sound of agreement, because he was right. I did love it. Suddenly, he pulled out from me. I tried to breathe, but clearly, Jongho had other plans. He got on top of me and aligned his shaft to my entrance.

“Ready?” Jongho bit his lip when I nodded. We both let out a groan when he finally entered me, bottoming out in one go. “I missed this,” he thrusts once. “I can’t believe I lasted this long without this cunt.”

"P-Please move,” I moaned. “I need to feel you—”

I began to spiral at the intimacy and at how hard he was thrusting into me. The feel of him stretching my already abused pussy was what got me. His instantaneous domination towards me as he plunged deeper and deeper inside me almost tipped me to the very edge of that white chasm I’ve been craving to fall into.

“Fuck, baby, you’re fucking killing me like this,” he hissed when I squeezed my cunt on his cock. “You like my cock filling you up?”

It didn't take long before I was squealing with wild abandon and trembling with how rough he was being. It was filthy fucking; the only sounds in the room were skins slapping against each and other the bed creaking. He looked down at his cock sliding in and out of my dripping cunt and I could tell the sight pushed him over the edge.

"Jongho, fuck! Yes, fuck me harder,” I sobbed.

"Shut the fuck up,” he sneered. He fucked harder anyway and I gasped when he wraps his hands on my neck. “You do not tell me what to do, yeah?”

His hand squeezed my throat, his grip strengthening, but he really wasn't really choking me yet. It was more like holding me in my place. His eyes widened and I closed my eyes in shame when we both felt my pussy gush. “Holy hell,” he grinned. “Didn’t know you liked that.”

“Only when you do it,” I moaned.

At first, the sensation was ecstatic, but when Jongho actually started getting carried away, I tried to pull at his elbow. I didn’t want to come yet, so I tried again, but Jongho didn’t budge. “Take your hand off or I will actually choke you,” he threatened.

I bit back a whimper but I obeyed anyway. “J-Jongie, if you k-keep doing it, g-gonna come…”

“Hold it. I haven’t allowed you yet,” he leaned forward until his face was inches from mine. “You are going to obey. Not because I forced you, not because of any punishment, not because you need to, and not even because you want to.”

His lips claim mine in a stormy kiss. “You are going to do it because you are mine. Clear?”

I moaned, my lips pressed firm against his. Without breaking the kiss, Jongho reached around my waist, lowering it until he reached my ass. He pulled me closer and the angle of him pressing my ass up to meet his thrusts made him groan into my mouth erotically.

My hands weren't idle, reaching around him, one sliding to his head and running through his hair, and the other feeling the muscles in his back. I dug my nails onto his back when his cock touched my cervix and he growled against my skin.

“Do it again,” he groaned. I did as told and I scratched his back and dug my nails as hard as I could. “Fuck, Y/N, fuck!”

That did it for me. His high pitched moans always had me reeling, especially now that I felt the familiar tickle of another orgasm threatening to rip onto me and Jongho’s thrusts were getting sloppier as he chased his own high.

"Look at me real quick," he urged. I did as told. "I love you, Y/N. More than you’ll ever know," he whispered as he tucked the stray hairs away from my eyes. "No matter what happens, I will always love you."

The desperation in his eyes scared me a bit. I blinked back the sudden sting of my tears as my emotions drove me greater heights of pleasure. Those three words were what I longed to hear all these years. “You’re not going to leave?” I choked.

”Love, that broken bridge was repaired a month prior, and I’m still here,” he gulped. “You can come now, give it to me.”

I came on command. It was the most intense orgasm Jongho had ever delivered to me. I twisted and writhed underneath him as his thrusts began to speed up with his own orgasm.

He ignored my shrieks of overstimulation as he fucked me harder and harder. His thrusts were becoming more and more erratic, and with trembling hands, I reached down and massaged his balls. With one hard thrust and a loud roar, Jongho came inside me, splattering my walls with his cum.

Between ragged breaths, the both of us slowly came down from our euphoric high. "Was I too rough on you?" Jongho asked softly. Long gone was the sex demon. "Are you hurt?"

"No," I mumbled under my breath. "A bit sore since it's been a while. You were perfect."

"Mmm," he hummed in response. I gasped a bit when he suddenly stood up and began to carry me. "Let's get you cleaned up," was all he said before he started walking to the bathroom.

I was so out of it that the next thing I knew was that we were both soaking in the bathtub, just enjoying each other's presence. I have never felt so peaceful in my life until now.

"Do you want me to wash your hair?" he thoughtfully asked.

"No, not now," I shook my head. "Just relax with me, are you okay with that?"

He hummed again. This was how he was, he never really talked a lot, and I was perfectly fine with it. I sat perfectly still in between Jongho's legs, leaning my head back on his chest as he played with my hair.

"You know what my biggest fears were during the five years we were apart?" Jongho suddenly said out of the blue just when I was about to fall asleep.

"No," I frowned. I was under the assumption that he was too preoccupied to focus on my memory back then. "What were they?"

"That I'll only remember your face, but not your name," he kissed my temple and his lips lingered there. "That I'd forget you, but not the time we spent."

𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟏, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏

We fell in love in September. It was as if no time had passed between the two of us and we resumed that flame that once burned for our love.

"Smile," I urged him as I raised the camera so I could take an updated selfie of the two of us.

At first, he rolled his eyes at my antics, but he smiled anyway and leaned closer to me. "Happy?" Jongho flicked my nose playfully. "You owe me something."

I giggled and I leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek but my eyes widened when he suddenly turned so our lips met instead. I felt him smile through the kiss and I knew he wanted to make out but I was laughing too much to continue.

His love was so warm and call me corny, but everything he did was so cute to me and I just wanted to explode.

He was my home. I have never felt more alive than when I was with Jongho. I know what love feels like - it feels beautiful, but it also hurts like nothing else. I suppose this 'true love', we always endured despite everything.

He was becoming less and less tense, something I never thought ever since he lost his temper back then when that man - Hongjoong - came around to visit. I wasn't dumb, I knew Jongho was doing something shady, but I digress.

At this point, I don't want to know what Jongho has been doing in his spare time the last five years. Whatever it was, I can live not knowing what happened so long as Jongho stays with me like this for the rest of our days.

He may not be the Jongho I once and loved, but I was willing to love this new version of him even more.

"Why don't you get ready? Wear your best dress," he said when we broke apart. "Let's go out for dinner. My treat."

"You always treat me," I frowned. "Let's split."

"Would that make you feel better?" he wondered. "I don't believe in that stereotype, blossom. I just want food."

I laughed, but nodded anyway. "It would. You're my boyfriend, Jongho, not my bank account."

"It really isn't like that, but whatever you say," he shrugged. "How long will you take?"

I told him thirty minutes, but unfortunately, when he saw me in this black bodycon dress I purchased years ago, we got a bit frisky and let it out of our systems before we actually went out and drove.

"We're going to be late at our reservation, Jongie. Seriously?" I frowned as I hurried to do my makeup quickly using the side mirror of the car.

He scoffed after he parked. "Oh, please. You love my cum---"

"Anyway," I hissed, to which he laughed out loud. "Let's go, sex always makes me hungry."

"Well, I already had my fill," he shrugged. I stared at him, flabbergasted because there were people around us and they most definitely heard what he insinuated.

Jongho took me to the local steakhouse where Mingi worked part-time as a waiter. He was unimpressed as he begrudgingly trudged towards our table. "It's going to be chilly soon, you guys want to go inside?" Mingi offered.

"I've been cooped up in the house, fresh air is nice," I smiled as I gestured at the outdoor tables.

"What would you guys have?" Mingi asked in his professional mode. Jongho was about to speak when got cut off. "I wasn't asking you," he hissed.

"Song Mingi," I frowned. "Be nice."

"Let him," Jongho smirked as he chewed on the free bread given to us. "He was about to just leave, weren't you, Mingi?"

Mingi rolled his eyes but left anyway along with our order. I frowned when Jongho reached out for my hand across the table. "Did you really have to be like that to him?" I asked.

"No," he replied. "But I wanted to anyway."

"Choi Jongho!" I was slightly appalled. All Jongho did was stare blankly at me. Without breaking eye contact, he sensually kissed my palm. I reddened automatically.

"L/N Y/N," he teased playfully, taking great pleasure at my shyness.

"Come on, can't you be serious for once?" I pouted.

"I am being serious," he laughed, his beautiful smile filling in his precious face.

I stared at him, unimpressed. "Are you jealous of my closeness to Mingi?"

"Yes," he immediately answered. "A thousand percent."

My eyes widened in mild surprise. Something that never, ever changed in him was his jealousy. I wasn't expecting him to actually admit to it straight up because back then, he always denied being jealous.

"My baby bear, you know there's no point in feeling this way," I sighed, wrapping my hand in his. "You're the only one for me."

"It better stay that way," he smirked. He sat straighter to look at me, but then his smile dropped off a bit.

I didn't think of it at first, but then I gasped when his hold on my hand became tighter. I bit my lip, slightly ashamed that I was getting turned on by his light aggression. I waited for him to say something, but he stayed still in his seat.

I thought he was messing with me. I mean, the way he was staring at me could have melted me faster than the sun. It was intense, and if I'm being honest, it instilled fear in me.

"Jongho?" I called out softly when I realized that he wasn't going to say something. His eyes narrow down into dangerous slits. "You're scaring me..."

His grip on my hand tightens with a force. It wasn't enough to hurt, but it was enough for me to worry. My eyes widened at the gesture, and when I took a closer look at him, I realized that he wasn't directing his stare at me, but behind me.

Had he seen something, or worse, someone that made him so tense? I was genuinely concerned now, Jongho only acted like this whenever I tried to pry about his departure five years ago. I straightened up, maybe this was related to it?

"Do you trust me?" Jongho stopped me from looking behind me. I nodded, albeit hesitantly. His next words made me freeze.

"Then whatever happens, do not turn around. Act normal."

I tried my best to mask the fear that was overriding my body right now; the panic that scattered my brain. The hairs at the back of my neck suddenly rose, and I couldn't help but feel that someone was watching us from behind me. Or was that the paranoia talking?

Jongho suddenly motioned for me. "Pretend that you're going to give me a kiss," he ordered. When he saw my rigidness, his glare softened. "Please do as I say," he whispered, desperation evident in his voice.

"Jongho, what's going on?" My voice was shaky.

"I have no fucking time for this," he hissed, eyes widening in surging panic. "You either do it now, or we both die."

My breathing was erratic and the thumping of my heart was escalating. All the while, I thought that whatever Jongho was hiding from me was never going to hunt us down, or at least, not for a while. Suddenly, Hongjoong and Jongho's conversation floated in my head.

"You know they're just going to find you, correct?"

"Of course, I do. You play me for a fool."

"That's all I know. I won't tell anyone you're here, but if I were you, I would do something about it."

I thought wrong. With a deep breath, I stood up and leaned my head towards Jongho, as if I really was just going for an innocent kiss.

"Stay still," he whispered when I got close enough. My breath hitched when Jongho drew his gun and it dawned on me that he basically used me as a shield so whoever was watching couldn't see.

"Remember what I told you that night?" Jongho asked when I sat back down. I gulped and nodded, my eyes still staring at the concealed weapon that he hid in his inner pocket. "Answer me."

"Yes, I-I remember," I stammered, rubbing my hands together to stop them from shaking so much. "I'm scared..."

He told me he will always love me no matter what happened, how could I forget? His eyes softened. "On the count of three," he began. "Get up, run, and never look back."

My heart exploded then and there. "What? No!" I winced when he attempted to shush me. "I am not leaving you, Jongho, please!"

Jongho's brows furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something but he froze when he realized that Mingi was approaching us with our ordered food. He cursed under his breath and tried to signal Mingi to stop walking.

Mingi, though visibly confused, does stop walking. But it was a mistake on Jongho's end, because whoever was watching had caught on.

"Get down, get down!" Jongho yelled when the first shot rang from a distance. My gasp was cut off from Jongho grabbing my arm painfully and dragging me down with him under the table.

Screams erupted from all over as the other patrons who came to eat had panicked all around us. Mingi dropped the food, startled, and immediately came running to me. "You both okay?" he asked when he ducked down along with us.

His eyes widened when he saw Jongho holding a pistol and then narrowed into slits. "What the hell have you gotten yourself into?" Mingi growled in annoyance.

"No time to explain," Jongho looked left and right, up and down, to check for more gunmen. He turned to Mingi hurriedly. "This table," he tapped it with his gun. "Let's use this as a barricade."

Both of them wasted no time quickly grabbing the heavy wooden table we were supposed to eat on and pushing it down. I tried to help by kicking the chairs away from us. I got startled onto ducking back down when more shots were fired in the air.

"Fucking hell," Jongho cursed out loud, jutting the arm that held the gun and aimed at that distance with precision. Mingi and I looked at each with worry and we both turned our eyes on Jongho's murderous form.

"Where's the quickest exit?" Jongho recoiled his pistol and bullet shells fell on the ground. Shivers travelled through my spine at how experienced Jongho seemed at doing gunfights.

Mingi pointed quickly to a door that was near us. Jongho cursed loudly, it wasn't difficult to go to the door, but we would be exposed to the dangers of getting shot.

I flinched when another shot rang into the air and then screamed when a bullet landed inches away from where we were.

"On my count, both of you will run as fast as you both can to the door. I'll follow after," Jongho ordered both of us. But Mingi wasn't having it.

"Are you kidding me?" he gritted his teeth. "Whoever's out there will shoot us down!"

"And you'd rather we get shot here?" Jongho retorted back, rage etched on his face. It made him look terrifying, like I didn't know him to begin with.

Mingi raised his arm to try and push some sense into Jongho, but the latter put his gun up and pointed the barrel directly in between the former's brows. Mingi froze in his place. "I need her out of here," Jongho took one good look at me before glaring again at Mingi. "I won't hesitate to shoot you if it means getting your ass up to move."

"Fuck you," Mingi spat venomously at him.

Jongho pulled the safety lever and positioned his finger in the trigger and Mingi visibly flinched. My jaw dropped and I called out for him to stop, but he ignored me. "I'm not playing with you, Song Mingi," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Do it."

"Just calm down, okay?" Mingi nervously laughed. Jongho cocks his head in my direction and Mingi gets moving. I was terrified - I could tell Jongho wasn't joking; he will shoot Mingi.

He positioned me in front of him and lowered my head down so my whole body was completely hidden. "Ready?" Mingi asked me softly.

Tears started to blur my vision. Tonight was supposed to be a good time, but alas, nothing really lasts forever - even guilty pleasures.

Jongho started the countdown, and the moment he said three, me and Mingi started running as fast as we could.

I yelped when I heard Jongho fire another shot in the air. I made the mistake of looking back and I almost stuttered in my steps when I saw two masked men running faster and faster in our directions while their big rifles were pointed at us.

My stomach started to churn along with the burn of my running legs - people want Jongho dead. And Jongho want these people dead. A question kept lingering in my mind, how many has he killed? How long has he been doing this?

"Hurry!" Mingi's deep, booming voice screamed for Jongho, his arms motioning for Jongho to move faster when the both of us went through the exit door.

Jongho moved with deadly purpose. Little by little, my heart shattered as I watched him shoot two shots and hit someone square in the chest with his bullets. Mingi's hold on the door loosened as he watched the bloodbath along with me.

He was so close to the door too, all he had to do was sprint and Mingi would be able to close the door so the people firing at us wouldn't be able to enter the parking lot.

I slowly realized that the man I loved was killing people left and right like it was nothing to him. It made me sick to my stomach, but what got me was the fact that my love for him never lessened even one bit. Even if he killed twice the amount, I'd still love him. It was sickening.

"Close the fucking door and go!" Jongho screamed at us as he unloaded more bullets at anyone he saw fit to shoot. He made eye contact with me, and for a split second, there was a flash of pain, but it was gone before he could shoot one more time.

"I hate you, Jongho, but I don't want you to die," Mingi snapped. "So get in here before I actually close this door on you!

It all happened in a matter of seconds. It seemed to snap Jongho into moving towards us, and so he started to run. The moment his foot stepped past the door, Mingi shut the door firmly and the three of us started running.

"You okay, love?" Jongho quickly grabbed me and kissed my head as we sprinted towards no direction in mind.

I nodded, the fear clear as day in my eyes. It hurt to see Jongho's resignation as he put the gun away back in his holster, something I didn't even notice when we left the house.

"We can't use my car," Jongho sighed loudly in irritation. "They know what it looks like."

"Let's use mine then," Mingi began to run in the opposite direction of where we started from and Jongho and I had no choice but to follow him.

The aftermath was anticlimactic. Jongho directed Mingi to drive around in circles so we wouldn't have a tail, but we quickly went right back in track when we realized that we weren't even followed out. They both argued about what had just happened and in normal circumstances, I would have been happy about it. They were both like this even back in high school.

When Mingi dropped both of us at my house, I opted to enter first because those two were still fighting and I could hear them from the inside. I had no choice but to just watch from the window.

"You son of a bitch, what kind of trouble did you bring back to town?" Mingi shouted aggressively.

"Watch your fucking mouth," I heard Jongho hiss.

"Or what?" Mingi taunted, using one hand to viciously push Jongho around. "You're gonna shoot me?"

Jongho hissed in pain, clutching his arm where he had been pushed. Mingi gasped out so loud, it caught me off guard. His whole hand was red and covered in blood.

"Jongho?" Mingi worriedly went to him and quickly grabbed his arm. "You're bleeding---"

My world shattered right then and there and I blanked out as I hurriedly ran towards Jongho and stared at his bleeding arm. "Y-You were shot?" I squeaked in fear when I realized that his whole jacket was soaked wet with blood.

"Get out of here, Mingi," Jongho groaned in pain, making both me and the taller man panic. "In case they find us here, I can only protect one of you..."

Mingi hesitated, regret filling his entire face, but he knew Jongho was right. After quickly saying goodbye and informing us that he'll stay with Wooyoung for now, he drove off away from the house and hopefully away from trouble.

"Don't cry, my pretty love," Jongho chuckled when we finally relaxed and sat on the couch. "It was a graze, nothing to worry about..."

"Nothing to worry about?" Angry tears started to fall from my eyes. "Jongho, you scared the living hell out of me!"

Now that all of the adrenaline has worn off, my chest exploded and tears just started flowing out of me. I didn't want to cry, I wasn't the type to cry at anything in general, but I couldn't stop the overwhelming emotions that overtook all my senses.

"Nothing to be scared of, see?" Jongho tried to cheer me up when he took his jacket off and showed me that indeed, it was just a graze, but it didn't stop me from paling at the sight of his wound.

I blinked the remaining tears away, though at this point I wasn't sure where it was coming from - anxiety, exhaustion, or paranoia. It could be anything. I quickly got to work on the first aid kit and started patching him up.

"Are you ever going to tell me?" I sniffled as I wrapped the gauze all over his bulky arms. "That was an experience, Jongho, don't you think I deserve to know?"

Jongho flexed his arms before he lifted me up and sat me on his lap. He buried his head on my shoulders. "I'm sorry," his muffled voice said. "But I can't."

I sighed deeply, not at all surprised at his response. What he failed to understand was that I don't care about what he did, I just wanted to know if it was going to happen again. "You know I'm willing to endure everything for you?"

Jongho froze. He slowly lifted his head up to meet my eyes. There was an expression I thought I'd never, ever see in those beautiful eyes - fear.

His brows raised at the statement though, eyes roaming all over my face to search for any lies. "Yeah?"

I nodded, leaning down to give his lips a quick peck. "I mean it, Jongho. You could destroy this entire planet and I'd still stick by you."

His grip on my waist tightened and I thought it was because he was grateful for my words, but when Jongho's eyes hardened to a steely resolve, I started to panic. He was staring at me with this deep, unsettling eyes that I couldn't tell if it was awe, sadness, or anger.

"D-Did I say anything wrong?"

"No," he shook his head, his knuckles softly grazing my cheeks. "I just never realized how far I'd go to keep you safe."

I swallowed a lump in my throat. "Come on," I urged him to get up. "Let's go rest. It's been a long night."

Sleeping would prove to be difficult tonight. I had a lot of things to think about, but so did Jongho. The only difference was he had a lot of things that kept him awake at night and he was currently the reason why I couldn't sleep tonight.

"Y/N?" Jongho called out of the blue as we both laid down in the darkness. I hummed a response. "If I hadn't knocked on your door a couple of months ago, would you have already moved on from me by now?"

His question caught me completely off guard. "Probably not," I answered him truthfully. "You?"

"Ten years would have passed and I'd still love you the same, if not more," he whispered. "Have you ever hated me?"

"Absolutely," I replied without missing a beat. "I went mad being in love with you. I lost myself loving you and to this day, there are still parts of me I can never get back again."

Jongho heaved a weighted sigh. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You did what you felt was right, and I was well within my rights to bear whatever made me feel right."

"Right. Why didn't you give out your heart again?"

I couldn't help but chuckle without humour. "It's not that. I don't want to trust my heart to anyone. Why are you asking these anyway?"

"No reason," Jongho yawned. "I was just curious."

I didn't reply. I had a terrible feeling that sank in my stomach, but I decided to ignore it for now. Maybe it was just the adrenaline rush of it all, being in a near death situation puts your mind in dangerous places.

Moments later, Jongho’s breathing evened out and that’s how I knew he was already sleeping. I watched him sleep for a little, he looked so peaceful, as if he wasn’t the man who used a gun so flawlessly, you’d think he was in an action movie of some sorts. He was a ghost of the man I used to know.

It was the worst sleep of my life. It wasn’t even this bad when I was heartbroken when he left. All the events of what happened tonight kept replaying in my head and I kept waking up in a cold sweat. I would go back to sleep and then wake up again. It was such a vicious cycle.

“Is everything okay, blossom?” Jongho asked me the next day when he noticed me spacing out in our living room.

"Huh? Oh, yes. Everything's okay," I lied through my teeth.

I couldn't possibly tell him that I was apprehensive about something that I couldn't put my finger on. There was this feeling in my gut, and there was another in my heart and they were both so contradictory that I didn't know which one to believe in right now.

My gut said that something was wrong, but my heart was telling me to trust Jongho a little more this time.

"Are you sure?" Jongho hugged me from behind and kissed my shoulders. He pointed at the purse I was holding. "Going out?"

"The grocery store. I want to make dinner for you since we couldn't enjoy last night," I turned around and looped my arms around his neck and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. "Happy Birthday, my love."

He smirked. "You remembered?"

"Of course I did. I celebrated it every year even after you left," I admitted, shame suddenly creeping up on me.

His eyes softened and he grabbed my face and gave it little peppered kisses. "I love you," he whispered. "More than you will ever understand."

He pulled me into a hug. It was the tightest hug I've ever received from him. "For as long as we both exist in this life, I am all yours," he breathed me in. "I will always go to you. If I can't walk, I will crawl. If they take my sight, I'd give up my eyes to see you one more time. No matter how broken I am, I will never stop fighting for you..."

He kissed my forehead tenderly. "You're my everything."

Tears began to prick at the back of my eyes. "Is everything okay?" I frowned. "You're freaking me out."

"No. Just wanted to let you know how I felt for you," he chuckled. He urged me to the door. "Run along to the groceries, love. Wouldn't want to miss that dinner for anything else."

I shrugged and went out the door to hurry up and get going, but not before looking back, only to see Jongho already staring at me. For a moment, we just stared at each other. Something wasn't sitting right with +me.

He mouthed for me to go with a small smile and an even smaller wave of his hand. The further I walked away, it was as if Jongho's was also slowly slipping away from me.

I couldn't concentrate on shopping. The goal was to get some stuff for Jongho's birthday, yet every time I stopped in an aisle, I would pause and space out, only for me to forget what I was in there for. The process would repeat and I was losing my mind.

On the other hand, his declaration of love for me made my heart extremely warm. He wasn't one to confess his feelings like that, and so was I. I was so lost inside my head, when I looked down on my cart, there was barely enough stuff in it.

I spaced out so bad that I didn't notice that I bumped onto someone. "I'm sor---Sannie?"

"I've been trying to get your attention for a while now," San frowned. I remembered that he had a shift today. "Are you okay? You look ill."

"I-I don't know," I admitted. "I don't feel so good."

San held my arm and I leaned onto him for support. "Want me to call Wooyoung to take you home?" San offered. "Where's Jongho?"

Something clicked in me at the mention of Jongho's name. I began to pull away from San. "I-I need to go," I murmured before making a run towards the door, not caring if San screamed for my name or the other shoppers looking at me like I just lost my mind.

I ran like hell, tears starting to form in my eyes. That confession meant something. I could hardly breathe, my chest filling with that dread I felt five years ago as my legs started to carry me back to my house. I didn't even realize that I was already crying, salty tears trailed to my mouth as I ran even faster.

I had to pause in my driveway to catch my breath. What would have taken me fifteen minutes of leisure running from the store back here only took me seven minutes in my panic. As I approached the front door, I felt lightheaded from the lack of air in my lungs, my hands were shaking terribly as I pushed the door open.

"Jongho?" I called out. My vision was still blurry with tears, but I was sure Jongho wasn't in my line of sight? "Jongho?!"

The house felt eerie. Not even an hour ago, Jongho and I were here just confessing our love to one another. "Jongho!" I called out louder, kicking the door down to his room in my desperation.

There was no answer, and there was no Jongho.

"Jongho, please," I was sobbing now. "This isn't funny, Jongho!"

I looked all over the house, even though at the back of my head, I knew my love wasn't here anymore. I went back to his room, horrified to find that his clothes were all gone. "J-Jongho," my voice rasped as I ran through every corner of my house, hoping that all of this was a sick joke.

I broke down, my legs wobbling until I crumpled on the floor, and I cried my eyes out. Jongho was gone, and this time, I knew for a fact that he wasn't coming back.

A part of me was hoping that he would come back after a day or two, after all, he did come back to me after five years. But I knew better - that declaration earlier sounded final. I couldn't stop picturing his face when he told me he loved me, I couldn't stop hearing his voice, and that just made me cry even harder than before.

Deep, gut-wrenching sobs and wails slipped past my lips and I buried my face in my hands in a sorry attempt to conceal the harsh sounds of my cries, but it was useless. My heart was so broken, there was a gaping hole in my chest where it used to be.

The force of my own sobs were straining my head and neck, but I couldn't seem to stop. I knew this day would come eventually, that Jongho would one day leave, but I thought we had it so good that he's changed his mind.

And I knew he changed his mind. He wasn't going to leave me anymore. So where was he?

I heard the front door creak open and the gasp that followed at my devastated, crumpled form on the floor. I felt someone kneel next to me, their own sobs filling the room as they tried to help me sit up. At first, my heart had hope, but from the touch, I could instantly tell who it was, and it wasn't Jongho.

"Babe, what's going on?" Wooyoung's panicked voice asked me hurriedly. He was openly sobbing with me. "San called me in hysteria earlier. Come here, oh my God..."

He quickly pulled me into his arms and I fell onto him instantly, burying my face in his chest and clutching shirt as I bawled helplessly. Wooyoung's body was shaking against mine as I felt his own tears fall on my hair. I have never, ever cried like this in front of anyone, and I can tell it was stressing Wooyoung out.

"Just let it out, shh," he hushed me, rocking back and forth to help soothe me, but the only person who could successfully soothe me had left.

"W-Woo," I mewled. "J-Jongho..."

"Did he hurt you?" Wooyoung instantly snarled, ready to beat up the man that wasn't even here anymore.

"Here," I weakly pointed at the center of my chest. "My h-heart..."

I told him everything. From Hongjoong visiting Jongho randomly one night, the gunfight with Mingi - to which his eyes widened and he exclaimed that Mingi never told him, but he could tell the taller was anxious - all the way from today where San saw me spacing out.

"I am so, so sorry. Are you okay?" Wooyoung asked tentatively, worry in his eyes as he helped me to my room. I almost lost control of my emotions then and there.

"Sorry, Wooyoung. You guys are always there to catch me when I'm feeling down," I hiccupped as he wrapped a blanket all over my body to comfort me.

He kneeled in front of me and shook his head. "You're our best friend," he assured. "We're worried about you," he patted my thighs twice. "Let me just call San to tell him you're fine now, okay?"

I wanted to hate Jongho. All this sadness was turning into anger because it was easier to be mad at him than deal with all the grief and loss he bestowed on me. But I couldn't. I had fallen for him twice and it was difficult to ignore the loneliness that was creeping in my heart.

"Yeah, she's good," I heard Wooyoung from outside my door. "I'm more shaken up, you should've seen her, Sannie. She was so broken..."

I could hear San's worried voice from Wooyoung's phone as the former paced all over my house. Tears began to form in my eyes again, but I tried to stop them. I didn't want to worry anyone anymore.

"He left, yes, he did," Wooyoung gritted. "I knew that asshole was trouble, goddamn it, he should've just stayed where he was at---wait."

I frowned at Wooyoung's sudden pause. He began whispering onto the phone and I had to strain my ears to listen to what he was saying.

"...by the kitchen..." Wooyoung's voice trailed off.

I heard his footsteps get faster and faster and I realized that he was running. I was so confused, especially when I saw him approach me with a letter in his hand.

"I found this," he handed me the letter, not bearing to look me in the eye. "I think...I'll step out of the house for a bit while you read it."

I eyed the small piece of paper in my hand, not knowing what to do with it exactly. I know it's bad when Wooyoung has to step out. He had the most forlorn, lost, and broken look in his face and it made me so nervous. I wasn't stupid, I know Jongho left me another letter.

I slowly unfolded the paper, and I was correct. Jongho had this distinct penmanship - it was cursive, it was beautiful, and it was his. Tears flowed from my eyes and dripped onto the paper as I read, my hands shaking as I tried not to crumple the paper with how emotional I was being.

You will heal and you will learn how to live without me. Until then, I’m going to set things straight on my end and I will find you when time permits. My soul will find yours again.

𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏

The pain got worse as time went on. I had no idea how much time had passed, but I assumed it'd been a while.

I had no desire to do anything. My laundry was piled in one messy basket, my garden plants were all dead, any form of self care besides showering and brushing my teeth was beyond me. It wasn't a way to live, I was a shell of my former self.

Sleep wasn't better either. I hardly got enough hours every night. But by far the worst was my solitude. Being alone in my thoughts was such a dangerous thing.

There were multiple times where I wanted to end everything, but the fact that I wouldn't remember Jongho anymore stopped me. It was such a vicious cycle in my own head and I just want them to stop.

San would always get me my groceries for Wooyoung to cook and Mingi would always force me to eat something. The food was delicious, it was my stomach that was rejecting it because it would churn the moment anything went into it.

I was always worried for them because sometimes I'd hear one of them get emotional at my depressed state, so I knew I had to conquer my demons if I was to not make my friends worry, but how I was supposed to do that? I couldn't even go into Jongho's room without bawling my eyes out.

I wore a hoodie that Jongho left behind and laid myself down on his bed, something I've been doing to cope for the last couple of months. Tears automatically sprung in my eyes. Everything was always so warm in his clothes and on his bed, just like him.

What was worse was that I could still smell him like he was still here. It felt like a blow to my chest. His scent was so strong that I could have sworn he was still here. How long would it take for his presence to completely disappear? How long would it be until this room is nothing but a space full of unwanted memories?

A tear finally slipped down my cheeks. Jongho and I were talking a lot about our future and he always looked so alive whenever we did. I knew he was truly happy. Sometimes, I'd think I was dreaming because I still didn't want to let him go. We were through before we had truly begun.

Jongho told me that I had to live without him. How was I supposed to do that? This darkness always threatened to swallow me whole.

And so I cried. I cried for the love me and Jongho had always meant to have, but never will. I cried for Jongho and the path he took that overtook him. I cried for myself, most of all, because I knew that I was never going to be the same ever again.

As I was about to relapse into another mental breakdown, a loud knocking from my door interrupted me. I quickly wiped all of my tears away and hoped that my face wasn't swollen enough for Wooyoung to berate me, then cry with me.

"I'm coming," I grumbled loudly when more knocking ensued.

It was probably Mingi. I had a doorbell and he knew it, but he always thought of the stupidest things to try and get me up so I couldn't lay down in bed all day. It worked, but sometimes, it pissed me off to no end.

Imagine my surprise when I opened the door and saw that it was not, in fact, Mingi.

"L/N Y/N?" the random stranger asked. I nodded slowly, a little too depressed to even care and ask how this man knew my name and my address.

He wasn't a bad looking man, rather, he looked quite pleasant. He had the most intimidating persona I have ever seen, the aura and energy he gave out made me shrink from where I was standing. He wore this tight fitting business suit that reminded me of CEOs rather than businessmen.

"C-Can I help you, Sir?"

"It's more like me helping you instead of the other way around," the man gave me a wolfish grin. "We should talk inside."

I frowned, gripping the doorknob tightly and ready to slam it if this man tried something sketchy. Despite the haze of sadness, I was sentient enough to not let in random people, especially as arrogant as this one.

"You're going to want to hear me out," he tried to bargain. "It's about Jongho."

My expression must have been so crestfallen that the smirk that threatened to come out of him slowly disappeared the closer he stared at me. Despite myself, my bottom lip wobbled and I bit on it to stop it from doing it, but to no avail.

"Oh, Lord have mercy, he ruined you," the man sighed. "I give you my word that I am not going to hurt you in any sort of way, so please, let's talk inside."

I had nothing to lose because I had nothing to live for now, so I just let him in anyway. I was semi happy that he had the decency to remove his shoes and sat on my couch after I had sat on it. It was a basic form of respect.

"My name is Park Seonghwa and Jongho works under my department," the man started. "And I owe you an explanation."

I blinked at him multiple times. I don't know what I was expecting, and to be honest, I had no expectations, but I certainly was not expecting that.

"E-Excuse me?" I sputtered out. "Department?"

"Where's your television remote?" Seonghwa asked. I blankly pointed it at him and he clicked my TV open. "There's something I have to show you..."

He kept flipping through different channels until he found the one he was looking for. I was extremely confused, but I decided not to question it and just see what he wanted to show me. Something tells me that I wasn't going to like what I'm about to see.

It was some sort of press conference and it was live. There were reporters going absolutely crazy over a couple of people and guards trying to stop them from forming a horde. It was a hot mess. I side eyed Seonghwa and he was just staring blankly at the television, like he was already expecting things to happen.

Suddenly, the camera panned to a stage where a couple of people who wore suits and some people with handcuffs were getting swarmed by the crowd.

I knew what this was. It was the controversial fight between the Korean Force and the rising mafia family that orchestrated bank heists all over the city and a select few towns like where I was - like that bank Jongho used to work at.

At first I was still confused, that is, until I saw a familiar figure standing in the back. He was wearing a mask, but I knew it was him. My hands flew to my mouth before my eyes widened and more tears formed.

"I am Second Director Kang Yeosang, in charge of the capture of the most notorious group that has been running rampant in our city," a man spoke from the television.

"What is the meaning of this?" I gasped at Seonghwa. He didn't say anything and pointed at the television again.

"The credit goes to all our wonderful Agents who aided in their capture," the man gestured to where Jongho was. He looked so stiff, so rigid, but I knew he was the man I loved - the man who hurt me deeply.

The TV was suddenly turned off, but honestly, I couldn't bear to look at it for another second longer anyway, else I might break down completely, and I did not want to do that with a random stranger in my house.

“Do you have any idea as to why Jongho had to leave you all of a sudden five years ago?” Seonghwa asked me, his eyes showing genuine curiosity.

I gulped nervously. “Hell, if I knew,” I scoffed. Then, I realized something that made my heart drop. “Are you telling me that he left me for the mafia, or something?”

Seonghwa smirked. “Not quite. I would say he joined the group that stopped the mafia.”

No amount of self-control could have stopped me from the sheer surprise that crossed my face. “Impossible,” I shook my head in denial. “Jongho would never put himself in a position that purposely put his life in danger, let alone do something like that...”

“Are you sure about that?” Seonghwa crossed his arms. “I could tell you what happened, but do you want to hear it?”

No. Accepting what Seonghwa was saying means that I have to face the reality that Jongho really did choose to go his way and make his future without me, but not accepting it amps my fear for the truth. I nodded in resignation and Seonghwa began to talk.

“First of all, I would like you to know that Jongho joined us by method of force,” he said. “In fact, he wanted out so badly that he threatened us that he’ll bite his tongue. Literally.”

My heart dropped at the newly found information and my hands were already shaking, but I let him continue. “It was supposed to be a successful operation, we were tracking a series of money laundering crimes and we chose the bank that Jongho worked at as the place for our sting operation.”

“Long story short,” he continued. “Jongho saw something he wasn't supposed to. Did you know what his position was at the bank?”

“A t-teller,” I replied, my voice also shaking. I wanted to cry, Jongho had been carrying that burden all by himself.

“Right. Unfortunately, Jongho found out that we were having an operation that day. He suspected that something was wrong with the enemy’s bank information, so he started snooping and saw every illegal money deposit in it. We couldn't have that, it was either we killed him or he joined us.”

“What?” I couldn’t help but hiss at him. “It wasn’t his fault,” I snapped. “Your failure on your operation does not constitute an emergency on his part!”

All Seonghwa did was smirk at me and it pissed me off. I glared at him, but he just shrugged. “I’m not saying you’re wrong,” he stated. “In fact, I agree with you. I never wanted him, Jongho was just a boy.”

My face fell as I limply fell back on my seat, defeated and in disbelief. “I’m a failure,” I sarcastically laughed. “All this time I thought he left me because he didn’t want me as his partner anymore.”

“Not your fault,” Seonghwa sighed. “We were the ones who told him he had to leave you. It was either he told you, but then he’d have to take you, or keep you in the dark but you’ll be safe. Obviously, Jongho chose to keep you safe.”

I couldn’t stop all the tears that suddenly started to flow. It was both out of sadness and relief. After five long years, I now had the answers I’ve always wanted to desperately know.

But was it worth it?

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you any of this. My superiors don’t know I’m here,” Seonghwa said after he had waited for me to calm down and compose myself. I’ll give him that, I appreciated it. “Jongho loved you so, so much.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to continue. “Our training was in the United States, Lord knows how many times he got punished for trying to escape and come back here in Korea,” he chuckled. “You know, I grew to care for that kid. I owe this to him after years and years of denying him any contact with you.”

Jongho wanted to contact me all these years? I had to bite my thumb to stop myself from shedding more tears, but Seonghwa grabbed my sleeves to stop me from hurting myself further.

“That capture on the television, that was his doing. What would have usually taken ten years of a normal agent, Jongho cut in half all because he wanted to see you again.”

“Hongjoong told me you saw them talking that night?” Seonghwa asked. I nodded in conformation. “He didn’t mean any harm. Jongho wasn’t supposed to be here, let alone disappear for a couple of months. We covered for him, but it was only a matter of time until our higher ups found out.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. All these years I was wallowing myself in pity and Jongho had been suffering overseas because of something that wasn’t even his fault. All this time, this was what Jongho had been hiding.

”What was he doing here in the first place then?”

“He wanted to see you one more time before he went into hiding so we could erase all his ties to the CIA, so I allowed him. Imagine my surprise when he didn’t come back anymore. Hongjoong had barely found this place.”

I remember that day like it just happened. I will never forget the day I started being alive again when he showed up at my door. The storm had been an excuse after all, and that bridge falling over wasn’t part of his plans. It was no wonder he was extremely angry when it broke.

”And the shooting a couple of months back?” I asked. I didn’t even need to elaborate, his face already showed that he knew what I was talking about.

He shook his head. “That was the mafia set to eliminate Jongho.”

My blood ran cold. That meant that we were that close to actually losing our lives. My face fell, that almost meant that Jongho left me for the second time for the same reason he had the first time - to protect me.

Seonghwa patted my shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” he spoke silently. “It’s almost over, he’ll be back.”

I froze, craning my head in his direction, my breath hard and laboured. “Y-You mean that?”

He nodded. “You have my word. And I’ve never gone back on my word before.”

Hours after Seonghwa had said his goodbye and left, I still stayed unmoved from my spot, unwilling to get up just yet for fear that everything I just found out, I’d suddenly forget. I stared at the card that he had left on the table that contained his contact number, not knowing what to do with it exactly.

One good thing that came out of there was that the heavy weight that loomed over my shoulders was suddenly lifted and the relief it brought had made it easier for me to finally breathe.

I have everything I would wish for right now. All these years, I thought I was looking for happiness or the will to move on, but all this time, relief has always been the one I was after - it was what finally set me free.

I closed my eyes, I can almost picture Jongho’s smile when he looked at me for the last time before he went his way.

Life was so cruel, wasn't it? Fate had allowed me and Jongho to meet and fall in love again and gave me a taste of what it would have been like had he not left, only for the same fate to yank it all away.

What’s worse was that I would do it all over again, even when I knew that our love would end as a tragedy. I would give everything just to feel his warmth, even if it’s only a second. I would endure anything.

Suddenly, Jongho’s absence didn’t feel so heavy after all. For the first time in a while, there was a small smile on my face.

𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟗, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

The arches of my brows creased as I glanced up to the bright, blue sky. The tip of my nose was red, but it was okay.

My hands can't seem to feel themselves as I walk out. It wasn't even that bad, I thought, before I left my rented studio apartment without bringing my trusty wool coat. By the time I realized that the wind had picked up, it was already too late to turn back and grab it.

I can almost taste the bitter cold hitting my skin, but I was happy anyway. Autumn was my favourite season, I love the colours and the cozy pumpkin spice flavoured things, and most of all, it was also Jongho’s favourite season.

It’s been three years since that fateful day. I slowly got over the pain, but I never forgot what it felt like. I still had that note he gave me, I could never throw it away even if I wanted to.

I couldn't forget him, if I tried.

I did, however, decide to move away from South Korea all the way to the other side of the world in France. I couldn't bear to stay in the house where all the four corners had Jongho in it, so I decided to sell it. I made the impulse to apply for corporate work, courtesy of Choi San, and so far, Marseille has been nice to me.

And speaking of San, he took that giant leap and found love. The only thing surprising about it was that it was in Song Mingi. It wasn't because of anything bad, it was because I never even noticed the tension between them. I may or may not have cried at their obvious happiness.

Wooyoung was the only one who came with me to my journey in another country. For a while, we both lived together in my apartment here, but he got addicted to the feeling of traveling and now, he's been painting the town red somewhere in Italy.

I've never seen or heard from Jongho ever again. He hasn't contacted me whatsoever. The constant visits from Seonghwa doesn't really count, though I have grown a somewhat decent relationship with him and found out he was actually a nice man.

He hasn't found me and to be quite honest, I quit searching for him after a while. It was eating away at my life and it wasn't a healthy way for me to cope at his loss. I just hope he found somewhere safe to settle where the mafia couldn't reach or hurt him.

"Ticket for one?" the attendant from the museum entrance kindly asked me.

"Yes, please. Thank you," I smiled back. Today, I decided to treat myself to a day off by going to this local museum I've been eyeing for a while.

"Do you wish to get upgraded for the fair in the back?" they asked me after handing in my ticket.

I tilted my head in confusion. "Fair?"

"Ah, there is a local fair that comes here every year. The museum decided to collaborate this year to garner more people to come."

It was an easy yes for me. I haven't been to fairs in a while and I remembered loving them as a kid. It almost denied it though, all my memories of me going to one had all been with Jongho. He loved Ferris Wheels the most.

As I admired the museum collection, I couldn't help but rejoice because of how much I've grown into myself. Moving was definitely difficult at first, but I've managed to wiggle my way to success, or at least, my definition of success. Slowly, I began to put Jongho at the back of my mind.

I suddenly remembered what Jongho said to me three years ago about his fear.

That I'll only remember your face, but not your name. That I'd forget you, but not the time we spent.

I chuckled. What a terrible lie that had been on his end. There was no way I was forgetting him in any way, shape, or form.

There wasn't much in the museum, it was quite small, so I went straight to the fair and I was pleasantly surprised because it resembled a carnival more than anything. There was the usual fair food and the carnival-esque rides, like roller coasters and adult carousels.

But most of all, the biggest Ferris Wheels I have ever seen in my life was right here. I smiled, I will definitely have to come back to that.

It was great, as expected for fairs. The food was absolutely fantastic, and I have a thing for their huge cotton candies. I knew then and there that I made the correct decision to go here for my day off.

"Excuse me? Is this seat taken?"

I was so lost in my thoughts that I was a bit startled when a masculine voice sounded to my side. I turned my head and I swear my heart dropped to my foot instantly.

"N-No," I stammered, redness spreading all over my face. "Y-You can t-take it if you want."

The man smirked and took the seat anyway. I didn't say a word - I couldn't - but neither did he. Rather, we basked in the sun that was shining directly to where we were both seated even though it was cold.

He was absolutely gorgeous. I have never, ever seen a man so stunning that it rendered me speechless for a bit. His brown cashmere coat perfectly complemented his physique. His cropped out hair fitted him well, and the way he carried himself was what was interesting to me.

His eyes were something else. There was a swirling mixture of amber as the tiniest bit of sun hit him made it very mesmerizing to stare at.

And those same pair of eyes were now staring at my very own.

I was shocked. I felt the shame slowly creep in and my face turn the reddest it has ever been in my life. I looked away clearly flustered and looked down on the forgotten sweetness of the cotton candy I hadn't touched again since this man sat down next to me.

Darn it, darn him for giving me the subtlest smirk as I looked away. From my peripheral vision, I can see him still looking at me, unblinking. I got so conscious that I didn't realize that I was holding my breath steadily.

I definitely looked like I was creeping on him. I almost hit myself in frustration. This is what happens when you're touch starved from a man for so long. I should have smiled back at him, I mean I still could given the fact that I can feel the hairs on my arms stand up in attention to his still unrelenting stare at me.

"How are you liking the carnival?" he had asked.

His voice was calming and it had automatically brought a sense of peace in me. I almost chastised myself, there was no need to be on edge. After all, I was here to relax, not to be awkward with the people I encounter.

"It's good," I shrugged. "I kind of wish it wasn't as cold as it was today. You? What brings you here?"

It was his turn to shrug. "Just to relax. I need to unwind after my work and all. It's stressful, you know?"

I nodded, surprising the need to smile. "Oh? What do you do?"

He chuckled, putting his hands in his pockets, his form also visibly relaxing. "Nothing interesting. There's just a lot of paperwork involved in it, that's all."

"I see," I murmured, trying to avoid eye contact all over.

I'm not sure when the tension started. Perhaps it was a subliminal thing. Or maybe, it was the physical proximity. Despite the cold weather, I could feel the smoldering heat from where he sat. He's been pretty respectful of the distance though, aside from the occasional stare he would point at me, but so far, I don't mind it.

"You don't look like you're from here," I pointed out, trying to start up a conversation. "What brings you to France?"

He hummed before responding. "I'm trying to find my purpose. I lost it a couple of years ago and now I'm intent on getting that back in my life," the man gazed at me meaningfully. "Sometimes you don't know what you have before it's all gone."

I gave him a tight smile. "And this," I waved my hand around. "Purpose, so to speak, how important is it to you?"

"Everything," he replied so fast it actually scared me a bit. He was looking at me dead in the eye too. "It means everything to me. I...made a lot of mistakes in my past, but now I'm here to make up for all of those."

I stared at him for a couple of minutes and he held eye contact with me, unblinking and unmoving. Was this my sign to move on from the past?

"Well, I wish you all the luck," I told him sincerely. "I suppose I can relate. I put my life on halt a couple of years ago, myself. My purpose had left me."

The man frowned and then sighed wistfully. "And how did that make you feel?"

It was a question I wasn't expecting. Suddenly, it was just the two of us, the carnival fading onto the background. "I was devastated," I admitted truthfully. "But not anymore. I know my purpose will always find me wherever I go."

There was a pleasant surprise on the man's face before he broke out into the most painfully beautiful smile I had ever seen. "I'm sure this world has been dying to give you your purpose back."

I went rigid at his statement. This world had been the one that orchestrated me and Jongho's end. It let me love and be loved again in return, and that same blessing turned out to be my biggest curse. I was this close to having it all, and now, I just stood still on the ashes of all my memories.

"Did I say something wrong? I apologize," he frowned.

I waved my hand. "No, you didn't. I, uh, just remembered something very unpleasant on my end."

He hesitantly held his hand out for me and motioned for me to grab it. "It's a beautiful day today," he mused out. "Would you like to ride that thing with me?"

He pointed at the big 'ol Ferris Wheel that was situated at the end of the fair, though it wouldn't have mattered. It was big enough for everybody to see. The way he smiled at me was of unbridled confidence and I can tell then and there, that he doesn't know how to lose.

"Let's," I smiled brightly and held his hand with the perfect squeeze and prolonged eye contact.

I could tell that it caught him off guard, but it didn't stop him from squeezing my hand back and leading me towards the line so we could get on the ride.

"Mind if I do this?" he asked, hesitantly putting his arms across my shoulder.

I shook my head. "Not at all."

My heart flipped incessantly in my chest when I felt him squeeze my shoulder once before pulling me plush on his chest. I blushed profusely, I can smell his cologne. It was fresh with hints of something citrusy, and by God, I couldn't help but close my eyes.

"Getting comfortable there, aren't we?" I could hear the smirk in his voice when I leaned my head against his shoulders.

I looked up at him with a playful smile. "Would you like me to stop?"

"No," he replied instantaneously. It was my turn to smirk at him.

It was pretty uneventful afterwards, and the next thing I knew, we were sitting across each other inside the little passenger cabin, or whatever that was called, and up we went really, really slowly, but surely.

The view from up here provided a perspective that only something from this afar would provide. It makes me realize that we are nothing but specks in this world, and our problems are usually so small compared to what everyone else has.

"The last time I was here was with someone really dear to me," he suddenly began to speak as he stared at the view with me.

I squirmed in my seat, but I forced myself to look at him. "I'm sure they loved it here as much as you did," I said. "Do you miss them?"

"There has never been a day where I didn't," he said, melancholy seeping in his voice and in my heart. He crossed his arms and heaved a sigh. "What about you?" He gave me a pointed look. "Have you ever been in love before?"

"Of course I have," I whispered, my voice thick and raw in the empty cabin we were in. "He had some things to finish, things that didn't involve me. Sometimes I think he already forgot me."

"What makes you think that?"

I smiled morosely at him. He was looking at me like I just tore my heart from my chest and presented it to him on a silver platter. "It's just my heart yearning for him," I shrugged. "I will forever treasure the rare love we both had, keep it as long as I live."

I lifted my head and looked him in the eye. "Even after everything, he was still the greatest thing that has ever happened to me."

"And what of you?" I asked when I saw that he wasn't going to say anything. "Have you ever been in love?"

He began to chuckle darkly, until he was fully laughing like I just said the most outrageous thing ever known to mankind. "The question is, when have I ever not loved you?"

He was done playing this little game and so was I. All I could do was stare at Jongho, I couldn’t afford to be surprised when he suddenly sat with me earlier because we were in public, but now that it was just us, I couldn’t help all the hurt that suddenly came crashing down on me.

But I wasn’t the only one. Jongho was struggling to contain himself, his breathing was laboured and any attempt to control his stance was long gone. “For three damn years,” Jongho chuckled bitterly. “All I ever wanted was you.“

I felt heat surge in my blood. “You were the one who left me,” I muttered. “You gave me misery I don’t want my enemies to feel.”

I almost didn’t want to forgive him. I could feel my bottom lip tremble so I bit it. I was terrified that if I let go, the dam would burst. Jongho heaved a shaky sigh, his eyes looking at me with such longing that I almost felt bad.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was thick with emotion. “I am so, so sorry, Y/N. I’m so tired.”

His voice cracked towards the end and I put my knuckles in my mouth to prevent myself from crying. How could I get mad at him? None of it was his fault, everything he did, both the good and the bad, all of it was to keep me safe from something he didn’t even want nor could control.

“You were my lifeline, whether you knew it or not,” Jongho began. “I’ve done a lot of stuff, things I had to do, and were forced upon me, but whenever I’d think of you, everything seemed to be alright, and whenever I was this close to losing myself, your image in my head always put me back on solid ground.”

“So please,” Jongho was shaking, trembling, as he put his hands up together like he was praying. "I'm begging you, Y/N, please have me. I’m so exhausted of not having you with me, I can’t take it anymore.”

I have never seen him this desperate before, or was I only seeing what I wanted to? Upon closer inspection, underneath all his handsome features was a man who lost his mind so long ago. His eyes were sunken, lips chapped, skin pale.

I’d made up my mind. I’d always viewed his love as something celestial, and he always made me feel divine. Despite all that happened, his eyes still held that gentleness I loved him for. He was my sweet summer sun, I could lay with him and always feel his warmth.

“I can’t survive without you anymore, blossom, I’m at my limit,” Jongho’s eyes reddened with emotions. “You don’t have to love me back like you used to and you don’t have to belong to me, but please, let me be yours.”

My heart began to beat so fast, I was scared that it was going to pop out of my chest and I wouldn't have time to catch it

He held my hand and held it tight. “Director Jeong and Director Kang were pleased at my work, and they gave me a lot of payment for it. It’s also for the life they stole from me,” he swallowed tentatively. “We’re set for life.”

I was hesitant, but he wasn’t done. “I bought a house for us and our future family, if you’ll have me. I know you sold the old house,” he said, his first tear falling on my hands. “My dreams are so small, but it looks much bigger when I picture you with me.”

That did it for me, and then I was hysterically crying. My emotions were all over the place, at first, it was my grief. It felt so strong that I couldn't help but drown in it. I haven't cried in a while - years even. The familiarity of my tears comforted me in a messed up way.

I felt myself being pulled on a firm chest. "It's okay, love, hush now, you're okay," he rubbed my back soothingly. "I'm here now, I'm not leaving you ever again..."

"What took you so long?" I sobbed pitifully, hiccupping at every syllable. I thumped my fists on his chest. "Goddamn it, Jongho, stop doing this to me, my heart can only take so much---"

I was hastily pulled onto the best kiss of my life. We were so rough about it too, I could feel both of our teeth clash onto each other because of how much we wanted to breathe each other in, but I didn't care. These were three years of longing, yearning for each other as our tongues danced with each other in a battle for dominance.

I could feel his tears mesh with mine and eventually we broke our kiss. "It's over, love, it's over," Jongho's hands were shaking so badly when he leaned his forehead with mine as he cupped my face. "I'm out of the CIA, I'm sorry it took me three years, but I had to make sure nothing will separate us again."

I could feel the waves of my grief lessen as Jongho kept whispering sweet nothings in my ear, and they slowly ebb into relief as my chest gets flooded with overwhelming love for this man.

"Don't cry, my love, I'm here now," Jongho whispered as he wiped my tears with his thumbs. He gave me the sweetest kiss on the tip of my nose. "I'm not going anywhere this time."

I couldn't help but giggle. "You promise?" I sniffled loudly. "I-I can't do this again, Jongho. I'm going to die this time if you leave me again."

"I'm never letting you go," he smiled tightly. He pointed outside the cabin. "Look."

I stared in awe. We were at the highest point of the Ferris Wheel and the colourful sun was beginning to set.

I buried myself onto his chest and he envelops me in a hug. "We made it," I murmured. He hummed. "I love you so much, Jongho."

I felt butterflies rush into my tummy, as if this was our first time all over again. He brought his lips closer to my ear. "I love you, too."

"How did you know I was here?" I couldn't help but wonder. "How did you find me?"

His embrace tightened and I couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped me. If someone had told me days ago that I would be this happy, I would have laughed at their faces.

I never thought this day would come, and I'm not sure what the future holds, but I have a feeling that today marks the start of me and Jongho's happily ever after.

"I told you, didn't I?" Jongho smiled, grabbing my hand and planting a tender kiss on it. "My soul will always find yours."

Dividers from: @arcielee ❤️❤️❤️

#i literally have a holy quartet of writers for ateez im always coming back to #sorryimananti-romantic. sweetinsaniiity. bvidzsoo. & makeitmingi #UGH i love writers u are all so beautiful and sexc and smart and gorg #cosmicrecs #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez fic recs

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eightmakesonebraincell · 7 months ago

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asking boyfriend!ateez to buy you pads

genre: ot8 x fem!reader, crack, fluff, fake texts

c/w: the boys are trying their best okay, swearing, crude language, pet names

a/n: bc the only way to get through shark week 🦈🩸 is to pretend boyfie ateez will (try to) take care of you 😌☝️ also in other news i got rear-ended the other day LOL @sorryimananti-romantic can confirm the other driver was st00pid

taglist: at the end

apply for taglist | unable to be tagged

@thecarnivaloflies @binchanluvrr @ifykyunho @ppprimary @itza-meee

@lavishloving @okshu @mizumigi @everythingboutkpop @ayytease

@hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hongjoongsprincess @booyoungie @green-agent @darkmentalitystarfish-blog

@taytayy178 @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @sourkimchi @itstheghostofmypast

@kiki277 @kibs-and-bits @mlysalt @jjoongstar @aaa-sia

@nollamuumialaaksossa @skz1-4-3 @minkilicious @joongscheese @delulu18

@teenyfinds @shakalakaboomboo @fureastel @seomisaho @levishun

@readerofallthingss @potatos-on-clouds @apriecotte @smally97 @savluvsmingi

@pixie0627 @kyeos4ng @yunhowooyo @yeehawnana @telail

@drinkingrumandcocacola @iykyunho @myblovedjyh @enhacracy @satsuri3su

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minkiverse · 4 months ago

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CHOI SAN FIC RECS

Poly!Ateez Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Kim Hongjoong - Park Seonghwa - Jeong Yunho - Kang Yeosang - Song Mingi - Jung Wooyoung - Choi Jongho

Here it is the behemoth 😭😭 i knew this one was going to take some time but it had multiple delays due to irl stuf but IT IS HERE NOW!!!! except i could not fit it all in one post so a part 2 will come out eventually (after poly!ateez pt 2 most likely) n e ways Shout out this man who harassed my tiktok feed until i became double biased i lov him sosososososooooo much🥹🥹

DISCLAIMER none of these works are mine and majority are MATURE 18+, please read all warnings before reading!!!

Key:

✨ - My Favs

🔥 - Smut (MINORS DNI)

⛈️ - Angst

💗 - Fluff

🍑 - Humor

SERIES

ceilings pt 2 pt 3 - @yoongiseesawmp3 ✨🔥⛈️💗 Single Mom AU ✧ PE Teacher!San

i dont want to spoil anything but there is a good chance you can figure out this trope, which i know is not for everyone BUT I EAT THAT SHIT UP EVERYTIME!!!! this is just the cutest fluffiest lil series i ever read like I LOVE THEM!!!!

The Art of Climbing the Corporate Ladder pt 2 - @ennysbookstore ✨🔥⛈️💗 Office AU

i am still so mad at how long it took me to get around to reading this because man. I LOVE THIS FIC!!!!! i literally was telling my irls about it because the plot twist at the end of pt1 got me so fucking good 😭😭 i am truly in love with this san like i have no other words than please read this two shot it is incredible (also read every other work by this author pls)

ONE SHOTS/DRABBLES

what lies beneath us - @hongism 🔥⛈️💗 College AU

destiny - @tainsan ⛈️💗Time Travel AU ✧ Idol AU

Drowsy - @sxcret-garden 🔥

Am I your favorite? - @deja-yu 💗

Unholy Night - @kitten4sannie 🔥 Priest AU

Untitled - @yourfatherlucifer 🔥

Eggnog Confession - @stayteezdreams 💗

Mr. Jealousy - @sanhwaism 💗🍑

Convince Me - @littleocean-rose 🔥

Untitled - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Sunrise - @sorryimananti-romantic 🔥💗⛈️ Soldier AU

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

incubus: coming of age - @byuntrash101 🔥Incubus!San

in the quiet spaces - @honeyhotteoks 🔥💗

Stay Focused - @beginningofwonderland ✨🔥 Office AU ✧ Tutor AU

god the tension between these two 😩😩😩 their banter is so flirty like even when san is helping the mc out with uni stuff its just sooooooooooooo 🤌🤌🤌🤌 it gives off a bit of romcom vibes WHICH I LOVE!~

Dry Humping with San - @littleocean-rose 🔥

chocolate - @mingigoo 🔥 Brother's Best Friend AU

obsession - @cheollipop 🔥 Mafia AU

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

[7:30 am] - @destiny-fics 🔥

Untitled - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Tired - @thr34t2sanity 🔥

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

pool side - @beatteez 🔥

Depths of the Ocean - @joong-of-gold 💗 Office AU ✧ Single Dad!San

Untitled - @jeon-ify 🔥

superstar - @bro-atz 🔥

A Little Secret - @choism 🔥

Untitled - @cheollipop 🔥

Untitled - @orgverse 🔥

choi san boyfriend texts - @koizekomi 🍑

Wander though my body - @armpirate 🔥

misunderstandings w/ san - @beenbaanbuun ⛈️💗

Interlude | Opening Sequence - @luvt0kki 🔥⛈️ Sci-Fi AU

Untitled - @eightmakesonebraincell 💗 Friends to Lovers AU

prelude in e minor - @bro-atz 🔥⛈️ Professor AU ✧ Infidelity

motive - @yunhoszn 🔥 Gym Partner AU

u got it bad - @yoongiseesawmp3 ✨🔥💗 Baseball AU

I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH!!!!! how this author writes banter is just so real and funny and you just can't help but be charmed by san and mc!!! as a former sports anime fan, i love a sports au ok it will hit EVERYTIME!! and this is one the bests truly!

Love Death + Robots - @kitten4sannie 🔥⛈️ Cyberpunk AU ✧ Stripper!San

kiss me more - @miirohs 💗

Tall Trees - @sluttywoozi 🔥.⛈️💗 Personal Trainer AU

take a picture - @jeon-ify 🔥

y'know what they say about guitarists - @lomlhwa 🔥 Band AU

stretch marks w/ san - @beenbaanbuun 💗

[8:50pm] - @moamidzyism 🔥Neighbors AU

imagine being in a secret relationship - @byeolbeloved 🔥💗Badyboy!San

cockwarming w/ san - @beenbaanbuun 🔥💗

Boyfriend San - @cheeseceli 💗

roadtrip - @lomlhwa 🔥

leave the window open - @sungbeam 💗 Neighbor AU

crimson - @hwaslayer ✨🔥⛈️ Nightclub AU ✧ Stripper!MC

how these two just fall in love is so beautifully written 😭😭 its such an interesting dynamic but san so forthcoming with his feelings i could melt 🫠🫠 AND THE SMUT IS FUCKING INSANE 😩😩

backstage backshots with san - @kitten4sannie 🔥

the scentist - @k-hotchoisan 🔥Neighbor AU ✧ Scentist!San

steamed milk - @yunhoszn 🔥💗 Barista AU

Last Christmas - @kitten4sannie 🔥⛈️💗 Exes to Lovers AU

It's You - @minisugakoobies 💗 Roommate AU ✧ Best Friend's Brother AU

Stern, but sweet - @bvidzsoo 💗 Teacher AU

Trip Shenanigans - @hee0soo 💗 Dad!San

pretty kitty - @k-hotchoisan 🔥 Hybrid AU

periods w/ choi san - @beenbaanbuun 💗

untitled - @brainddeadd 🔥

Day 8 - @multifandomfantasies ✨🔥

as a large sub!ateez enthusiast this should not be shocking 🫠🫠 i just love a needy desperate san so much and this fic 😩😩 boy does it deliver

gold rush - @kitten4sannie 🔥 Cowboy AU

to taint you soul - @seonghwaddict ✨🔥⛈️ Incubus!San

when i went into reading this i just thought it would be pure demon smut, but like i fell in love with the mc and san so easily 😭😭 like the plot is devastating and how san like just takes care of the mc is soooo 🥺🥺🥺🥺 THE SMUT IS ALSOSDFJSFJOGSJRSGJGJ yeah its good highly recommend 👍👍

untitled - @teeskzagain 🔥

tied up - @beenbaanbuun 🔥

celebrate for you - @cheollipop 🔥💗

untitled - @sluttywonwoo 🔥

too sweet - @yoongiseesawmp3 💗 Model AU

Give in to Me - @hwallazia 🔥

Filthy Lips, Loving Touch - @ja3hwa 🔥💗

Ateez San as your BF - @kisshwa 🍑

boyfriend texts - @beenbaanbuun 🍑

realistic sex with san - @byuntrash101 🔥💗

Underwater - @bvidzsoo 🔥⛈️💗 Greek Mythology AU ✧ Ares!San

kitten fever - @kitten4sannie 🔥 Hybrid AU

head to head - @bro-atz 🔥

middle of the night - @kitten4sannie 🔥

untitled - @choism 🔥

rollin' - @bro-atz 🔥

handy - @hausofwoo 🔥💗

san x chubby!reader - @sluttywoozi 💗

Treat You Better - @starskq 🔥⛈️💗 Friends to Lovers AU

untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Stripper!San

knots - @bro-atz ✨🔥💗 Masseuse AU

i didnt think i had a thing for this au but i love it everytime! when mc just gets a really good fucking massage and then a real good fucking too aaadfsgsgfgdf but this is honestly so intimate and warm feeling and just san man 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

#ateez #ateez fic recs #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #choi san #san x reader #san smut #i usually queue these lists but bcs this is probably a heavily anticipated list its going up tomorrow #also bcs its been a while since i posted a list......#merengue makes lists

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vampwritesstuff · 5 months ago

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𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩’𝐬 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐬 (1)

a random collection of Ateez fics I have stumbled across and fell in love with. (I am clearly biased towards smau fics)

* marks mature/violent content, please heed warnings posted by the author. MDNI with the fics on this list that are marked like this. You are responsible for the media you consume!

Personal favorites are marked with 💜

Authors will not be tagged multiple times if they have already been tagged once before on this list, this is to ensure that I don’t flood notifications and so I can tag as many different authors as I can!

If any authors would like their works removed from this list or to be untagged, please feel free to tell me!! As well as let me know if any links are not working properly! (I do tend to check them frequently though as this list also helps me keep track of the ongoing fics I am reading)

While you’re here, also feel free to check out my own Ateez smau Forgotten Melodies! (Shameless self promo but oh well, it’s my rec list I can recommend my own fic if I want to)

OT8/Multiple Members

wonderwall * @atzfilm 💜 (ongoing series)

circus * @lani-heart 💜 (ongoing)

inception * @remedyx (ongoing)

hypothesis (woosan) @woneuntonzz (ongoing smau)

ateez mafia au @softsan (ongoing)

this night together * (yungi) @honeyhotteoks 💜 (ongoing)

the essence of youth is summers with you @eightmakesonebraincell 💜 (oneshot)

divine ruination * @seonghwaddict (ongoing)

blinding lights * (seongjoong) @kpoppers-anonymous (ongoing)

when eight becomes nine @bunnliix (ongoing)

for love of the game * (yunwoo) @kitten4sannie (oneshot)

makes him want to give up his sea legs @yeontantrash 💜 (drabble)

that’s what roommates are for * (yunsanmin) @bro-atz (oneshot)

house of cards @moontyun (ongoing)

incomplete @ldysmfrst (ongoing)

our leaves must fall before our flowers can bloom @ eightmakesonebraincell 💜 (oneshot)

Kim Hongjoong

a wild ride * @bombuni (oneshot)

while you were sleeping @ seonghwaddict (oneshot)

when flowers bloom in the dark @makeitmingi (ongoing)

kindergarten love story @xomakara (oneshot)

your gentle hands @yourlocaljonghoe 💜 (oneshot)

Park Seonghwa

the lamb and the wolf * @ seonghwaddict (oneshot)

the way to his heart * @edenesth (completed series)

the stranger in 43b @jae-bummer (oneshot)

i will wait @hwaightme (oneshot)

let me in @ makeitmingi (oneshot)

Jeong Yunho

espresso for two? @xuchiya (oneshot)

music of the heart @noonaishere 💜 (ongoing smau)

empires @peacheeeliz 💜 (completed smau)

hunted: haunting adeline au * @whatudowhennooneseesyou 💜 (oneshot)

let’s start a podcast @mars101 (ongoing smau)

Kang Yeosang

morning glory * @anyamaris (oneshot)

operation: passenger princess @sungbeam 💜 (oneshot)

yeosang & a situationship @yunhoszn (oneshot smau)

oddeleny @songmingisthighs 💜 (completed smau)

Choi San

online/offline @ noonaishere 💜 (ongoing smau)

leave the window open @ sungbeam (oneshot)

hold me @cheeseceli (oneshot)

no hesitation * @daemour (oneshot)

love beyond barriers @catsannie (ongoing smau)

Song Mingi

preying on you tonight * @bvidzsoo (oneshot)

and july @sara-wishes (oneshot)

wave @sorryimananti-romantic (oneshot)

[ 11:45 p.m. ] @mingtinys (timestamp)

hidden flames @imagine-a-life-like-this & @mxnsxngie (ongoing)

save a horse, ride your best friend @ seonghwaddict (oneshot)

Jung Wooyoung

written in the stars @ennysbookstore (ongoing)

247 @yothangie 💜 (ongoing smau)

unexpectedly @dancinglikebutterflywings 💜 (ongoing smau + currently on hiatus/being rewritten)

lover, please stay * @roomsofangel (ongoing)

that and then @halaboyz (oneshot)

plans changed @ dancinglikebutterflywings (oneshot)

bullseye! @lividstar 💜 (oneshot)

let the heart love again @ makeitmingi 💜 (oneshot)

vivrant thing @hwaslayer (ongoing)

i don’t want your sorrys, i want you safe @dvrktvnnel (oneshot + planned part two)

die for me * @jisungchan (oneshot)

Choi Jongho

oh shit, are we in love? * @mingigoo 💜 (oneshot)

thinking about how… @ cheeseceli (drabble)

the pool * @beenbaanbuun (oneshot)

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hwaightme · 2 years ago

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Thank YOU for writing them!!

I am deeply honoured that you say this, and please accept all of my gratitude, though I know for a fact that there will never be enough to describe and reflect just how meaningful your words are to me ;~; And I am beyond delighted to hear that you found this to be motivating!! When life is wave after wave of stress, and excitement turns to trepidation it is very easy to start seeing everything in duller, muted tones, so it brings me such joy to hear that even for a bit, through a little spark, my writing brought some of the precious colours of spring to you <3

I am so... really I am speechless. I have read and reread your words a number of times and each time I get misty-eyed, because this is just so inspiring to me and makes me feel an unbelievable warmth. I find that through exploring the world around us, and trying to find ways to carry the feeling it gives across through selection of words, phrases, themes, we are able to transport to places initially far from our imagination, and now, thanks to writing, in our mind palaces <3 I appreciate you and your kindest words so much, and wishing you good health, all the strength and the BEST OF LUCK in the coming busy month!!! I'll be cheering for you <3

P.S.: may I join you in said corner ;~; <3

Like the cherry blossom falls

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🌸 pairing: yunho x gn!reader 🌸 genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, naturalism/slice of life 🌸 summary: every spring is a beginning, and you cannot imagine it without jeong yunho, your friend through the many years. but as the cherry blossoms fall, what will happen when you fall the same? 🌸 wordcount: 5.3k 🌸 warnings/tags: language, memories, mutual pining, from school to college, a lot of spring musings, barely edited mention of food/eating, banter between friends, mention of exams, waiting for love, discussion of love, time, hope 🌸 taglist: @doom-fics @legohwas @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @hoshischeekss @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts 🌸 a/n: happy yunho day! our ray of sun, our spring day, the one who gives and works so hard... thank you for everything you do, and wishing you the brightest, happiest days filled with love to come <3 much love, big hugs, all reblogs, notes, comments welcome <3

It was the first warm day in spring. The breeze, which gently tousled your locks and made the bright green trees rustle, was still a little cool – the breath of nature after months of slumber, tucked under a snow-white blanket. The sun rays caressed your skin like a sweet embrace and turned the young flora into a glistening, gold toned paradise. It was a time for new beginnings, a time when dreams felt so marvelously within reach, and daily routines transformed into a pleasant waltzing sequence.

This bright spring day compelled one to metamorphose and take on change with newfound vigour – as you took in your surroundings, even though you were tucked away out of the action, sticking to the sitting area outside of your beloved convenience store, you could feel this energy buzzing all around. The enthusiastic chatter of locals resting under flourishing tree canopies, small groups ambling next to the picturesque riverbank, tired, but satisfied smiles on their faces, in wait for the offerings that the coming hours, days, weeks would undoubtedly bring.

Your decision to move to Seoul for your studies had been nothing short of awe-inspiring – a gift that kept on giving. And any time you felt like you could not go on, and the gloomy weather settled into your heart and clouded your mind, you would remember the tranquil spring days which had been there for you through thick and thin, since the very beginning. Just like the dancing cherry blossom petals soaring into the skies after a mischievous gust of wind would invite them for a twirl, your worries would dissipate and join the floral confetti, nothing more than memories dotting your vision. Full stops over which you stepped towards another season.

This breeze that spurred you on, encouraged you, kept you going and became your pair of wings throughout your life took on many forms. One, the most important of all, was in the form of a boy, now a man who had grown from pulling your hair for fun to now making your heart flutter. The man who had just so happened to inadvertently plan his near future with you and made the choice to follow you to the big city. The man who was sitting across from you, his brown doe eyes glinting with gold from the sun that filtered through one of the pink-hued trees, it having left a gift atop his crown of dark, lustrous hair in the form of one petal. You were not exactly sure how you got here, and how the years had only made you closer, but you would not trade it for the world.

A tranquil late afternoon by the peacefully meandering river, cheeks stuffed with cheap ramen that tasted like memories and a hope for forever, tears springing to your eyes as you struggled to not burst out laughing while your best friend imitated one of your lecturers. His mischief and boyish eagerness to elicit the biggest reaction from you was enough to make your heart hurt, and the way he had to splay his legs out in order to not fall from the flimsy plastic chair – your spot outside the convenience store that had become your shared safe haven, was simply endearing. It was impossible to ever get tired of the radiance, the unfiltered, puppy-like energy that this wonderful man who you had the honour of having in your life exuded.

Had anyone told you five years ago, let alone ten that you would be in love with Jeong Yunho you would have laughed in the poor messenger’s face. Your shared path with him was more accidental than anything. Similar journeys home, similar interests. Even answering the question of how, or when you had become friends perplexed you to this day, with you being unable to pinpoint a specific moment. Sometimes, in him you still saw the excited school kid, clad in a crisp ironed navy uniform, running towards you to show off a particularly cool stick that was totally shaped like a laser gun from an anime, or the kid who dragged you to the arcade as soon as lessons finished. But with one spring replacing another, and with each new refreshed blanket of pink on the ground appearing more gorgeous than before, an innate, growing longing bloomed in your chest. And thus, you had come to treat what you had previously deemed an accident, a mistake or a coincidence as serendipity.

As your gaze followed the stubborn petal, Yunho’s movements grounded to a halt until he was staring right back at you, confusion written across his features.

“Hey, I’m not explaining maths or anything, why so spaced out?”

“Hm? No, I’m not spacing out… Actually, this will keep on bothering me, wait-” your body moved on its own accord as you set down your chopsticks and the foil which you had folded into a makeshift bowl onto some plastic packaging. Leaning over the table, you gingerly pinched the spring snowflake and held it out for Yunho to observe, smiling softly as he lifted one of his hands and cradled it.

“Well, would you look at that! I had a little hat on and didn’t even know about it!” and just like that, the petal ended up on your friend’s hair once again, only this time it was hanging on for all its worth as he launched into a seated fashion show, hands on hips and flaunting the new look. “So, how is it?”

“Stunning. Immaculate drip.” You responded without missing a beat and raised your eyebrows once in approval.

Yunho chuckled, picking off the petal and letting it fall onto the table, landing right by his bottle of water. He took his time with lifting his eyes to meet yours, wondering if the outwardly comical statement contained any element of appreciation. For as long as he had known you, there was one thing that remained constant, and that was that you were someone who was immensely challenging to learn and read, unless you openly wished for it to happen. But he would be lying if he said that it was not enthralling. As he let the breeze cool his lightly blushing cheeks – something of a permanent installation when he was around you, Yunho placed his elbows onto the table and cradled his head in his hands.

“Now you have to sign an NDA, you’ve seen the new spring collection.” He joked, a nod to the job that you had taken on prior to the start of the academic year, which had resulted in many midnight coffee runs, one conversation after another of Yunho keeping you sane enough to last until the end of particularly exhausting days, and a revelation that what you had been feeling was indeed, not an illusion. Fortunately for you, while you were afraid of misinterpretation, you sensed that what you had come to realise only now might just be reciprocated.

“Oh gosh one more mention of that and I will scream.” You shook your head, and dramatically stretched out your arm to lie on the table, hair cascading over the sleeve as a jacket, cushioning your temple. While the situation behind Yunho’s words was less than pleasant, he made it sweet by preserving it – like a pressed flower or leaf in a book, he kept a precious collection of your and his happenings. Yunho had a talent for remembering anything and everything that you shared with him, to the point where you were certain that there were a number of events that he probably could recall much better than you ever could.

“Come on, your internship wasn’t that bad.” a chuckle, a gentle tap on your hand that lasted a little too long, giving you ample opportunity to muster some courage and grasp at his jacket’s sleeve to prevent him from breaking contact. The barely audible gasp, replaced by a bashful silence and a return of the pressure of his hand on your forearm was confirmation enough that your spontaneity was right. Nonchalant, you continued.

“Except that it was like I was stranded in a deathmatch at the hardest possible level, overwhelmed inside, disconnected from outside.”

“I mean… in principle… that means you reached the match and hey, normally those maps are cool?” he seemed to have returned from his daze in record speed, though beaming a little brighter and perky from the game reference.

“So was that place… until- ah, too gloomy.” You attempted to lift yourself up, but one glance to Yunho’s resting hand had you forgetting that idea altogether, so you settled for a simple raising of the head, “Whatever, you heard me rant about all of this anyways. Let’s discuss the quality style instead.”

The action made Yunho retract nonetheless – ever so polite, and so you took to keeping your head in one hand, admiring your friend through blissful, lenses the colour of cherry blossoms. You noted how Yunho moved the feast that you had bought further away, and turned so that you would be facing each other directly.

“Yes please, I will have to ask you to expand on that wonderful statement.” He winked: a lighthearted ruse to keep himself together and not give away the kind of effect that you had on him.

“I am this close to taking my words back.” Almost pinching your thumb and index finger together, you shot back.

“Nuh-huh, I wore my special denim jacket today you can’t do this.”

“Yes, I can. And can remind you of your much more iconic looks.”

“Curious. Which one?” as soon as the question left him, you languidly pushed yourself from the metal, and leaned in close, closer, and closer until you were the reason for Yunho being on the verge of short circuiting. You were rarely this forward; any semblance to seeking contact was the odd accidental brush as you would walk side by side, but this, this was something else entirely and he was not prepared. If anything, this was reminiscent of what his imagination would conjure – so far removed from common reality that he was thinking spring itself was playing tricks.

“You… wrapped up…” your voice dropped into a whisper, and Yunho held his breath in trepidation, “in a duvet at the library.”

It was surprising just how much relief an unexpected humorous memory could bring. Recalling the basic fact that he was a human, and that he was to be socially appropriate even around the closest, most precious person in his life, he let out a sharp exhale and an airy chuckle. At least he had the time you were inferring as clear as day in his brain.

“Ah, you mean the time you were wearing the fuzzy onesie?”

“It was-”

“-finals week. Second year. We really popped off on those fits.” He completed your sentence smugly. Any other time, he would have probably crossed his arms or raised them up in a mock victory, but you kept him frozen in place.

A quietude washed over you. Muted, mutual reminiscing. Time to relive what had been, turning into awe at the fact that in the flurry of ponderings, of long gone snippets that twirled around in your mind palace, most were with this beautiful man.

“Yeah.” “Yeah.”

Was all either of you could utter, before falling back into an expectant silence. There was always a shift between the winter and spring, at least that was how you liked to describe it. It was in the scent that graced your room as soon as you opened the window. It was in the longer days, with somnolent darkness being replaced by a budding brilliance, reflecting in soft leaf buds and the beginnings of pollen – nature’s fairy dust. And just like this, from the slumber of a comfortable, amiable and cosy winter time, a shift between you and Yunho could be detected. On the first warm day in spring, as the blossoms rained down, the petal that was on your table now rejoicing upon having found an adventurous companion that landed only millimetres away. While you could never answer the question of how you got so lucky to have Yunho, you were inspired to guess how the continuation of what you had could unfold, if you wished for this flower to bloom and meet the coming seasons. The mere notion made you feel warm, unlike the rapidly cooling ramen that you were unlikely to return to any time soon. Last wisps of steam were escaping the containers, along with the illusion that this spring was to be just like any other.

“By the way, just for the record, banter aside, you do look really good, okay?”

He wanted to poke fun at you for your habit of playfully attacking and then immediately falling back into a truce – fearful of the possibility that you had hurt your interlocutor’s feelings, but found it to be too endearing to ever comment on. It was normally the time when you were most vulnerable, and the time when you had let most of your true feelings slip through your friendly, yet naturally reserved demeanour. Your expression was unreadable, but there was a tantalising tension that was luring him in. Suddenly, the table was very much in Yunho’s way, and led him to spontaneously rise from his chair, pick it up, flinching as he overestimated the weight and nearly hit himself with the back, and step around the picnic table to set it down next to you. You raised an eyebrow, puzzled, but your intuition was good enough to figure out the response, so you simply seized the chance to give your secret everything a onceover, as if you were seeking confirmation for the statement that had already been established in unwavering truth.

“It’s the jacket you picked out, so of course. But thank you.” Deflecting the generalisation, Yunho focused on the article of clothing, the tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink as he inspected it.

“Oh? OH! Yeah! I spammed you with the link to it!” you clicked the fingers of your free hand, agreeing.

“Yeah, but it was not on sale then, so I hunted it down until it was.”

“Well damn don’t I have good taste.” You mumbled, questioning your own ambiguity. Did you really mean the jacket?

“Yep, and in people too.” And that was your answer. Yunho mirrored you, setting an elbow on the table, a gleam dancing on his lips.

“How sneaky! But you do have a very good point, the universe did do good on this one.”

Unable to refrain from the gesture, you reached out to pat the top of his head. It must had been somewhere in the beginning of high school that Yunho became known as the ‘golden retriever’ type, the puppy boy, the energiser. And right about then, you had started to find immense joy in ruffling his hair, be it to praise, or in encouragement, or just because you had not done it in a long time. And while he would normally pout or roll his eyes, not once did he not tilt his head into the sensation. As you took your hand away, you noticed that he intuitively followed. A smile settled on your features as you sank into the indescribable unity. Not needing words to communicate, you sank into his dark orbs, their magnificent glint shining brighter for you than the afternoon sun and the glittering river.

Had you not been looking so intently at him, and had he been able to take his own eyes away, Yunho would have been pinching himself repeatedly to gain confidence that this was all real. You were the one who he had always quietly admired, the one who he always spotted in a crowd, his desire to achieve, to try his best, his confidence and his blue sky. You were the reason why he had so much focus. He had never experienced the tumultuous feverish youthful love – it was easy when only one person could ever be his motivation, inspiration, the keeper of his adoration. He tried to be with other people, tried to be close with other people. But that was all it was, some ‘other’, when all that mattered was ‘you’.

If one were to assess his situation objectively, Yunho’s feelings towards you were ridiculous. A mess of emotion that he could never untie, the beginning of the knot having faded into a distant oblivion, and him having no intentions of ever tearing the threads apart. Having only ever been acquaintances, friends, best friends, he had no foundation to build his romantic feelings on, at least that was what he repeatedly told himself, and yet, here he was, years deep and pining like a fool.

The spring only made him reminisce about how his feelings had grown in the shade of his turbulent, busy life, amongst the daily worries and a packed schedule, budding flower rising through the cracks to turn into a garden in his psyche. He almost did not want to unlock its gates out of fear that the beauty he had cultivated would be dispelled, and, considering you and him having your respective dreams and aspirations, he had previously felt it would be unjust to impose himself upon you. But much like the cherry blossoms that twirled and fell to the ground that still retained some of the February chill, he only fell deeper, and if he did not make the decision for himself, the garden would do it for him and more and eventually, the flowers of his fascination would consume him whole.

“Do you remember how we met?”

“Why are you asking me this out of the blue?” when you only received a motion with the chin to proceed, you pretended as if you were trying to remember, “That was so long ago-”

“But do you?” he persisted, frustrated at having to drag the answer out of you.

“Do I… Honestly? No. I tried to remember but my mind draws a blank.”

Just as he was expecting, middle school was one big void, out of which only one constant remained, and that one constant was currently stifling a chuckle. It never failed to amaze Yunho how you could quote show after show, novel after novel, occasionally refer him to a particular page in a textbook because, apparently ‘the shape of the text was kind of funny so it stuck in your head’, but when it came to people, you drew a blank. Maybe it was just him. Or at least that was the part that hurt him, and the part that he needed to bring to light if he was going to lay all his card out on the table and risk your friendship.

“Classic, Y/N, classic.”

“Well you are my brain cell after all. An unhinged one that has long lunch breaks, but I’m taking what I can get.”

“That is an interesting way to compliment.”

“And I have heard you on voice chat on Valorant so I think we are pretty even.”

Whether it was his nerves or his infatuation that made him so easily affected by you, he could not tell, but the comment was enough to make him break into a fit of giggles, calmed down only by him massaging the back of his neck and reclining into his chair to collect his thoughts. If he were to be any closer to you physically, he was not confident in how he would act. Narrowing your eyes, you detected the change in his behaviour, the subtle tint of worry, and bit back any remarks.

“Fair. But now, no laughing, okay?”

“Okay? That is ominous, but… go for it?”

Everything had gained an unexpected loudness. From the colours that you were bathed in to the symphony of sound that accompanied your conversation, your heart was accelerating. Finely attuned to a series of delighted shouts from afar – a pair of teens strolling down the pathway at the riverbank, you imagined it to be you and Yunho. In fact, that had been you and Yunho back in your hometown. While you could not pinpoint quantitatively, with ease you recollected the warmth. The giddiness of youth that had gradually matured into being each other’s number one fans. Much like those adolescents by the Han River, you had given each other pep talks, screamed your heads off for therapeutic reasons, and watched the sun lazily move across the sky, waving you goodbye as you entered first school, then university.

It was with Yunho that you understood the idea of someone becoming something like a limb. Or a part of your identity. It was so easy being with Yunho, that you simply forgot how time passed. Much like how one was not conscious of when they were using their hand, instead focusing on the words typed out on a phone screen, you had experienced life with, and through Yunho. He was always there – a constant in the chaos, and without being aware of it, you had flourished independently thanks to him believing that you could. The one supporter of your radical ideas. Number one fan. Reassuring you through actions time and time again that he was always ready to help, and you could only hope that you had done the same.

“So… um… Y/N.”

“Are you about to give me a speech?” you interjected, making the young man whine.

“Shut up for a second I am processing at high speeds here.”

“Okay, okay.” You at upright, placing your hands on the armrests, as though you were about to stand up. Perhaps it was to be the case, as you could barely hear Yunho over the sound of your pulse in your ears.

“Anyways, as I was saying. Y/N. We didn’t exactly meet. We uh… well I ran into someone, and you were walking by. At least that is how I see it.”

Yunho’s eyes fluttered shut as he visualised the scene in front of him. The chase, the hit, the whistle of the referee. How just as he was trying to stand up, a girl his age, one he had seen sitting on the other side of the classroom, was already rushing towards him and yelling that he should stop moving or his injuries will get worse.

“Huh?”

“That time, I was in football practice and decided to, you know, touch some grass quite literally, but didn’t realise that grass and gravel would give pretty nasty cuts.”

“And?”

“You gave me cool band aids.”

“Huh? Did I?”

“Yeah, it had like… superheroes on it and stuff. So, needless to say you got instant respect from me.” That interaction gave him band aids, a packet of wet wipes and an interest in you that he struggled to resist. As you left the field, he had watched the charm on your backpack swaying back and forth, a pendulum hypnotising him.

“Glad to know… Is that the whole meeting?” you asked, Yunho’s certain delivery and courage making you cower.

“Let me continue. Okay, going from there, you also shut down some rumours basically at their source. Oh, and you had brought me homework and notes for two weeks straight while I was sick.”

“You lived nearby so it made sense to do-” putting one of his hands over yours was only natural, and any prior tentativeness had dissipated.

“And let me say, this is all in the span of one term. One school term. Just freshly started the school year and you’re out here being cute and shit and then totally oblivious.” His speech accelerated to the degree that you wanted to remind him that he was not presenting in class and fighting a time limit. If he were to take the step forward, he needed to be sure that this was what he wanted. The wind picked up its pace, and the trees shuddered.

“What are you getting at?” to encourage him, you flipped your hand around and intertwined your fingers with his, the action sending something reminiscent of an electric shock through your system. But you were not about to expose your exhilaration.

“Mmm… I think you know.” He shied away, gawking at the palms pressed together as though it was a work of art. You did the same, though managed to utter:

“I might do but finish your point.” Yunho huffed in agreement and squeezed a couple of times, confirming that this was real.

“So, you tell me that you don’t deserve my help or that I do too much right?” a new wave of passion flared up in his tone, demanding your attention. The rays that melt away the winter chill prevalent in the voice, any argument not feasible. However, you were not one to not try leaving your two cents, especially not when you could count the number of barriers and filters that you relied on dropping to an unmistakable zero.

“Yeah, right, because that’s true.”

“No, because that is bullshit. I am basically paying you back, and never will be able to. Because you have given me nothing but kindness. And every single bit is like a petal.” Words spilling over one another, Yunho shared his soul. With one swipe, he picked up a stray petal from the table and lifted it: “Yeah, see? Like this one.” Shaking it a couple of times, he flicked it away to let it spin to join its family on the ground. “And they just keep on falling and falling and falling and falling and I am falling along with them too. These little gestures, how you stayed up to make sure I came back to the dorms safe, how you… seriously it is impossible to list everything okay?!”

It was as if someone had lit a match, and your body contained nothing but gasoline. Your suspicions had been proven right, and the words were heavenly music.

“Wait… come back to the falling part again. As you say. Expand on that?”

“Shit…”

“Now that’s not romantic.”

“Oh, come on.” Yunho tried to pry himself away, awkward laughed bubbling up, but now that he had given you a glimpse into his feelings, you were not about to abandon them – not when he had recounted moments of when your actions were what reached his heart.

“Look, Yunho. We have known each other for long enough to read the vibe. And I can feel that you are terrified. Guess what. I am terrified too. In the same way. So, say it. For both of us.” You peered into his eyes, smiling, relieved that Yunho was more pleased than you imagined he would be.

“How about… we say it on the count of three?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. If we are about to ruin things, then let’s just say we crossed the finish line together.”

Ruin. If there was anything else to ruin, it was only the ramen that was definitely stale and soggy at this point. But love knew no earthly needs, only the game of chance and destiny.

“Well damn, okay. Fine. If that helps you.”

“One, two, three-”

“I like you.” “I like you.” The phrase resonated like a plucked guitar string, two voices turning into one, with neither of you capable of holding back laughter as the three words that previously were an unbearable load now joined the spring air, the vibrancy and rejoicing of nature, carried away by the breeze. Commenting on how both of you went for the safer option, you leaned closer to one another, a magnetism tugging you along.

“You look like you are debating whether to let your now-approved impulsive thoughts win or not.”

“And you look like you really want them to win.”

“You know it.”

“Are you su-”

Yunho’s eyes shot wide open as you leaned in and cut him off by locking your lips with his. Time stood still as he searched for any sign that he was dreaming, alas, none was to be found. It was your plush, rosy lips against his, a perfect harmony. Those lips that he had spent too long staring at, that haunted him, now capturing him whole. The brightest sun in his chest that rivalled the one that left your practically glowing. Relaxing into the newfound heaven, he brushed back a strand and returned the kiss, slowing its pace to a sultry exploration, a worship of the moment that, even compared to the years that had preceded it, was an eternity that he wanted to sink into and never come out of.

“Who’s impulsive now?” only when his, and your lungs were burning for oxygen did you pull away, and were face to face with a goofy, adorable grin, playfully taunting you.

“Not me. I am cool, calm, and calculated.” You replied, your voice still airy.

“And I waited long enough.”

This was you, in plural. Yunho guided you out of the white chairs and stood to wrap an arm around your waist. You had hugged before, as friends. As friends who wanted more. He wanted to scream out at every bird and passer-by that you felt the same as him. Elated, you melted into one another as your lips reconnected, the perfectly connected puzzle pieces. You tasted of memories and a hope for forever – also known as what you had been having for lunch, but suddenly, that interesting flavour choice was his favourite. Your arms snaked around him, and slipped under his jacket to protect themselves from the flurry of flowers. Even when you pulled away, your foreheads remained pressed together, eyelashes almost touching, and you rocked slowly, side to side, in a silent dance. Embraced by the spring of love. Yunho nuzzled into the crook of your neck, enveloping himself in all that was you. More than he could ever have hoped for. You wondered if he would tear up, but instead he mumbled, dumbfounded:

“So, we are like… a thing now.” You snorted, amused at the choice of words.

“Thing.” Yunho raised his head again to give you a worried glance.

“I am so scared to call you my girlfriend, I seriously think you will disappear if I do.” He explained, hugging you tighter.

It was charming, and simple enough to understand. Much like fearing snowfall in the early days of a floral reawakening, he could not bear the possibility of you fading into an extended frost. But now you were certain, that as much as he was your always, you were his. It could be that you had never considered romance before because you had already committed yourselves to one another so early, that they was never time to process. Hence why you judged your shared life only by the constant. By Yunho.

“But I was here the whole time?” you were no fool to believe that this was the same. Even in the year or so that you had carried the burden of hiding adoration, it was only yours to keep. You had been his, just the title and privileges were a little different.

“But now is even better. I get to call you mine officially.” After a pause where he got lost in his musings, he added, with a euphoric grin, “Too early to say I love you?”

“Ten years isn’t enough time?”

“I mean romantically…”

“Kiss me again and say the words, this is a threat.” You whispered, and pulled him in gently, your hands moving forward, and tugging at the collar of his jacket as you close the space once more, entranced by the magic.

Like the cherry blossoms fell around you, you fell for Jeong Yunho, and he for you. Through the years, you had seen one another’s ups, downs, spirals, and lines. You had adored the best and worked through the worst. No matter the season.

Spring was time for new beginnings. And while the comfort, the ease, the person were all the same, the future promised a myriad of fresh pink blossoms, the petals celebrating your new journey.

#hm/cherry-blossom #sorryimananti-romantic #i am speechless #i am just... thank you for this #so much <3 #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #yunho fluff

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atinyreads · 1 year ago

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sobbing wheeping squelching giggling ATEEZ FIC RECOS !

@atinyreads

note: these were supposed to be a part of my previous post but tumblr said i already reached the limit :( nonetheless, here are the rest of my favorites and my recent reads <3

note: don’t forget to support (reblog/comment) the blogs who write them ^^ i do not own any of the following recommendations.

cw: some fics contain themes that might trigger you read at your own risk

genre: contains angst, smut, fluff, yandere, and mafia themes.

Hongjoong

just a phone call away by @makeitmingi

drive to survive by @bvidzsoo

love, tailored by @arafilez

only look at me by @pyramid-of-starrs

our destiny by @mi-rae07

the captain’s favourite by @edenesth

Seonghwa

from the cradle to the grave by @prodsh00ky

fire and water by @wooyoungiewritings

yandere seonghwa by @mymoodwriting

dancing with the devil by @bro-atz

your desire by @bvidzsoo

the thing about pretty boys by @wonusite

blinding pavlov by @seohwang

we know by @baek-at-it-again95

like crazy by @gyupinkys

extraterrestrial rated by @latte-fairytaekwoon

idol seonghwa x actress reader trope by @skyechild (idrk why the username isn’t popping out 😭)

Yunho

four seasons of love by @starillusion13

let’s get physical, physical by @bro-atz

who? by @todomochi-uwu

the duke’s weakness by @edenesth

Yeosang

bf yeosang by @darkphoenix07

secret relationship au by @ateezmakemeweep

mafia au by @mingsolo

winter blossom by @atzfilm

angst/fluff reaction by @ateez-writings

moonlight by @miaatiny

San

sex after argument by @darkphoenix07

time’s the charm by @jaehunnyy

morning sex by @destiny-fics

let’s get physical, physical by @bro-atz

jealousy sex by @k-hotchoisan

limitless by @sorryimananti-romantic

the jealousy game by @emeraldelysian

underneath the moon by @hee0soo

blue bird by @seonghwaddict

Mingi

who? by @todomochi-uwu

burning desire by @mi-rae07

fight or flight by @mint-yooxgi

Wooyoung

heavy is the head that wears the crown by @bvidzsoo

siren!wooyoung by @ohmyamor

12:45 by @jinisnuggets

home for the holidays by @highvern

pitiful, you’re pitiful by @songmingisthighs

blue bird by @seonghwaddict

Jongho

torn patience by @thenewblackcanvas

needy jongho by @cuddlyjongho

regret by @mi-rae07

OT8

want you back by @whimsicalwritingsandmore

poly ceo ateez by @atinycafe

Other fic recs !

NEWS FLASH! Best release in kpop history:

#ateez ff #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez yandere #ateez masterlist #ateez mafia #ateez werewolf #ateez fic #atinyreads #ateez atiny #ateez au #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez recs

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atzloverr · 7 months ago

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My favorite fics/blogs!!!

(multifandom)

The answer by @berryunho

this might me by favorite ateez fic y’all… It’s literally so GOOOODDDDD I’m obsessed… (atz x reader, cult au)

@freyaphoria

this entire blog is everything !! (never stop posting girl your stories are amazing) lovely yandere atz x reader stories

@yankpop

A blog with lots of yan bts x reader and I’m here for it!

Abundance by @angelicyoongie

ot7 hybrid bts x reader, I’m literally obsessed with this story and I still hope that the author picks it up again 😭

Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea

(ao3) LOVE this ot8 ateez x reader fic!! The story is so good I’ve literally cried reading it…

Polarity

(ao3) yandere Jungkook x reader. I don’t need to say more. Read it.

The obsidian pearl by @angelicyoongie

yandere mermaid!Seokjin x reader, only a few chapters, but still amazing!!!

Complete

(wattpad) I don’t know how many times I’ve reread this story… It’s my comfort fic i think😭 a bts x reader soulmate au fic.

The four kingdoms

(wattpad) another AMAZING bts x reader story. This fic is the first part of the “blue eyes” series, and I’ve read all four parts like a million times… The following parts:

pyramids, dynasty, mist (mist isn’t finished)

Seven sins

(wattpad) seven deadly sins!bts x reader.

Blood ink

(wattpad) tattoo artist!Jungkook x reader, gang au

Circus by @lani-heart

A sweet (and angsty) fic about ot8 hybrid!ateez x reader!!! I highly recommend it! (ongoing)

@cheollipop

suuuuuch a good blog, has atz x reader and some svt x reader

@angelicyoongie

Amazing bts x reader stories!!! (two of them are mentioned in this post lol)

@xosannie

lovely nsfw ateez x reader, I’m so happy I found this blog likeeee, obsessed with their work dirty little secret (mingi x reader)

Guerilla by @sorryimananti-romantic

serial killer!Yunho x reader, literally obsessed with this and their entire blog!!!! And I’m Yunho biased so this hit the spot

@bro-atz

One of if not THE best atz nsfw x reader fics… Literal art, go follow right now!!!

Heavy and sticky by @k-hotchoisan

some filthy Seonghwa x reader smut!!!

When flowers bloom in the dark by @makeitmingi

Already so invested in this mafia au Hongjoong x reader story. It’s sooo good

Atz as boyfriends (nsfw ver) by @sorryimananti-romantic and @eightmakesonebraincell

explicit ateez ot8 headcannons (I’m obsessed)

The feral drabbles by @mint-yooxgi

Ateez (and skz but I haven’t read) x reader one-shots/drabbles!!! Includes darker themes (yandere), and omg this writing is so good!!!

@last-words-ofashootingstar

such good ateez x reader fics and drabbles!!! this blog has yandere content as well! Love their work allure

@gyupinkys

amazing svt x reader and atz x reader!!! I love their work like crazy (yandere Seonghwa x reader)

Our leaves must fall before our flowers can bloom by @eightmakesonebraincell

poly ot8 atz x reader and ice hockey au, I literally died when reading this the writing is insanely good

Mist of celeste

(ao3) craziest read in my life. Space pirates atz x reader and this is a literary masterpiece. Read. It.

@holybibly

THE ONE AND ONLY QUEEN (atz x reader)

Sentinent by @trivia-yandere

(Oneshot) Yandere android namjoon x reader, omg I am obsessed with this and the author’s other works!!

Bloodline

(ao3) INSANE READ. I literally pray to god that this ot8 atz x reader story continues!!!

Case: It’s You by @potatomountain

Ahhhh this poly!atz x reader story was so amazing!!!! The twist in this was absolutely crazy, and I can’t wait for book 2 to get released! This author ate the enemies to lovers au

Charade

(ao3) I just LOVE this ot8 atz x reader!!! This story is a zombie-apocalypse au!

@smileysuh

I love this blog so much!!! I love their NCT and SVT fics, and I strongly recommend their fic daylighter (vampire!Wonwoo + Werewolf!Mingyu x reader)

I’ll update this post if I find new works that I enjoy!

my masterlist

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sl003 · 2 months ago

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SESE's Fic Recs (ATEEZ)

Hi and welcome to my ATEEZ fic rec! This is basically a collection of my favourite ATEEZ fics (duh) and I really recommend reading them if you haven't already! This List will get updated from time to time when i have new fics that i can put on here.

Warning: As i will write my opinion/thoughts under some of the fics, they might contain some spoilers for them!

The pictures aren't mine, so all credits go to the rightful owners!

My all-time-favourites are marked with a: ♡

With that being said, a giant thank you to all the incredibly skilled and talented writers that came up with these amazing works of art <3

Have fun reading!

PS: If any of the links don't work or are wrong, please tell me, i'll fix it as fast as possible!

KIM HONGJOONG

I'm The One - @sorryimananti-romantic (24k)

prince!hj x translator!r

♡ The Nightfury - @bvidzsoo (22.2k)

pirate!hj x pirate!r - enemies to lovers (kind of?)

I can barely describe how much i love this! I just love the dynamic between the reader and hongjoong in this one. You can really feel the hatred and attraction they feel for each other. I reread this regularly since this is a plot that i've never read in this way before.

Ghost Of Christmas Past - @stayteezdreams (4.5k)

kinda romeo & juliet au (forbidden love trope) / "exes" to lovers

This started off so intense that it immediately pulled me in and had me hooked! I'm a sucker for the "forbidden love" trope and this was such an amazing approach.

Your Fan - @hwaightme (2 parts)

Part 1 / Part 2

idol!hj x fashion designer!r

Hongjoong with a fashion designer s/o just made so much sense! And he was so whipped for her it's adorable, definitely recommend!

Familiar Stranger - @yourlocaljonghoe (24.2k)

best friends to lovers / divorced au

♡ Your Gentle Hands - @yourlocaljonghoe (37.6k - 2 parts)

dressmaker!hj x married!r (plays in the 1800s)

This was also so incredible to read. The way the writer wrote hongjoong's personality and his behaviour/dnyamic with the reader was so delicate, i loved it! There were quite a dew sudden and unexpected plot-twists/changes that really surprised me and had me hooked.

♡ The Parent Trap - @yundeob (18.1k)

exes to lovers / parents au

I also reread this one every once in a while, I just really love the chemistry between the reader and hongjoong, especially as the story progresses! Definitely one of my favourites!

Million Dollar Man - @holybibly (9.2k)

This is nearly 9k words of pure filth, but it's the best filth i've read in my whole life. the way he treats her and talks to her makes me melt. this is so divine, i love it! (and the appearance of seonghwa at the end, wow)

PARK SEONGHWA

The Way I Am - @frenchkisstheabyss (1.6k)

fiancé!sh x make-up artist!r

This was so precious! The way Hwa got so insecure and scared made me tear up, this is so sweet, definitely worth a read! Also a regular reread of mine :)

Best Friend's Mother - @hwashotcheeto (series - 10 parts)

(discontinued) mommy!sh x wy's best friend!r

Bodyguard - @baekhvuns (37.8k)

bodyguard!sh / forbidden love

Let's Not Fall In Love, Again - @baekhvuns (39k)

failing marriage / time travel au

JEONG YUNHO

Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy - @yunhoszn (12.25k)

+ Horses Are Still Overrated (Sequel - 2k)

cowboy!yh x city girl!r

The Trace Of You - @bvidzsoo (25.1k)

psychiatrist!yh x patient!r

Thousand Miles, Just To Get You Back - @bvidzsoo (28.7k)

victor!yh & r / hunger games au

Memoir - @baekhvuns (16k)

mafia au / amnesia au

KANG YEOSANG

There's a lot, I think it's obvious he's my bias... sorry not sorry

Cosmos - @pirateprincessblog (17.7k)

dystopian/space au

Stay - @sorryimananti-romantic (18.6k)

archer!ys x princess!r

Married In Vegas - @starrysvn (10k)

ex friends to lovers / forbidden love (kind of)

♡ Operation: Passenger Princess - @sungbeam (9.5k)

college au / frat boy!ys

Again, something i reread on the regular. The chemistry between them is obvious right from the beginning and it's just such a sweet fic. It gets angsty for a short minute but it goes right back to fluffy, which i love!

Speak Now - @edenesth (11.6k)

best friends to lovers / hanahaki disease au

♡ Richboy!Seonghwa Series - @ateezmakemeweep (30 parts)

+ Richboy!Yeosang Series (Spin-Off/Sequel - 6 parts)

private school au (?) / love triangle / enemies to lovers

I'm actually not a big fan of love triangles, but this was amazing, especially since it doesn't stay a classic love triangle for toooo long. I actually went into the richboy!sh series with wanting to read something with seonghwa (obviously), but this fic made me root for yeosang so damn fast that i actually loved the way it turned out in the end and then the small sequel series just topped it off so well!

Untitled - @ateezmakemeweep (18k)

badboy!ys x r / enemies to lovers (kinda)

Transcendent - @biaswreckingfics (9.5k)

soulmate au / best friend's boyfriend

♡ Entropy - @in-san-ity (21.3k)

mafia au / hacker!ys / found family (kinda)

This has to be my all time favourite fic. I put off from reading it very long (i remember the first time i started reading it something put me off, idk what anymore tbh) but when I saw it on nearly every fic rec post i saw, i decided to give it another shot and i fell in love. The dynamic between yeosang and the reader with sol is so precious to me and there were just certain things in the wording that made it even better. If you haven't read this, please do it!

Untitled - @ateezmakemeweep (10k)

skaterboy!ys x ballerina!r / enemies to lovers

Not too much to say about this except it got me right in the feels, it's so sad but also so sweet and wholesome!

Siren - @sorryimananti-romantic (27.8k)

siren!ys x siren hunter!r

CHOI SAN

Crimson - @hwaslayer (21.8k)

san x stripper!r

Ceilings - @yoongiseesawmp3 (3 parts)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

single mom!r to not so single mom!r / exes to lovers

♡ Sunrise - @sorryimananti-romantic (29k)

soldier!san x soldier!r / military special forces au

This is also one of my favourites of all time! The tension and chemistry between these two is out of this world. The way they both (especially the reader) try to suppress their feelings for each other before they finally snap *chefs kiss*.

♡ Leave The Window Open - @sungbeam (3.7k)

strangers to lovers / neighbours / byeol playing matchmaker

This is soooo cute. It's such a cute idea, especially with incorporating byeol into it, this makes me feel so soft! Regular reread of mine

Face Down - @latte-fairytaekwoon (5.5k)

abusive relationsip / "saviour" san

Infinity - @seung-hwa (4.3k)

soulmate au / reincarnation au

♡ From Saturn To Mars - @lividstar (24.2k)

stargazing / star-crossed lovers

Dear god, when i tell you this made me cry... I've read this like 2-3 times now and i was crying my eyes out each and every time i read it. It's written so beautiful yet so tragic. It already starts off quite sad but it just gets progressively worse (in the best way possible). if you feel like you need to have a good cry, read this. Or read it anyway, cause it's incredible

Back To You - @ateezmakemeweep (12 parts)

badboy!san / college au

Broken - @ateezmakemeweep (2 parts)

Part 1 / Part 2

abusive relationship / "saviour" san

Your Worst Mistake - @bvidzsoo (25.7k)

hunger games au / stylist!san x tribute/victor! reader

SONG MINGI

Steamroller - @fallinforgyu (10k)

best friends to lovers au

Am I Just A Bet To You? - @hannie-roses (24.9k)

enemies to lovers au / you were just a bet au

Preying On You Tonight - @bvidzsoo (29k)

enemies to lovers au / werewolf!mgx vampire!r

Your Fan - @hwaightme (2 parts)

Part 1 / Part 2

idol!mg x rapper!r

They're both so whipped for each other, i love it!

Untitled - @ateezmakemeweep (12k)

werewolf au / mates au

JUNG WOOYOUNG

Water - @yuyusboyfriend (6.7k)

bff's brother!wy x ftm!r

Right Here - @0097linersb (2 parts)

Part 1 / Part 2

best friends to lovers

Midnight Kisses - @mingigoo (5 parts)

single mom au / bff to lovers / dead ex!seonghwa / new flame!san

♡ Place In Me - @starrysvn (17k)

exes to lovers / chef au

I blame this fic for kickstarting my sudden obsession for old parisian apartments, but in the best way possible. This is so beautiful and i really like the chef trope with wooyoung

CHOI JONGHO

♡ Cyberpunk - @sorryimananti-romantic (23.7k)

droid!jh x programmer!r / exes to lovers (kinda)

This is also one of my favourites, i've never seen a trope like this before and i love it! Definitely need to reread this one!

Oh Shit, Are We In Love? - @mingigoo (15.8k)

best friends to lovers

Second Chance At Love - @xomakara (7.1k)

dad!jh x nanny turned mom!r

POLY/MULTIPLE

♡ Opposites Attract Universe - @beenbaanbuun

poly!addams!matz x reader

I'm a sucker for poly!matz and the way these two are portrayed here makes me melt. they just worship their darling so much, just wow. And also with in inclusion of the other members (yeosang as a werewolf/guard dog, san as a butler, jongho as a ghost etc.). Every single fic/drabble etc that takes place in this universe is worth reading!

Three Hearts As One - @cybrsan (2k)

poly!woosan x reader / zombie apocalypse au

Again, one of the things that just made me cry. This is so beautiful but so damn sad and tragic. It's really short but it manages to make me tear up each time.

Beefcake Raccoon - @songmingisthighs (6.5k)

Concrete Bear - @bro-atz (account no longer available)

Manwhich - @skteezcursed (7.7k)

kinda poly!jongsang x reader (mainly jongho x reader)

Outlaw - @staytinyville (49 parts - ongoing)

poly!ot8 x reader / outlaw au

i never thought i'd read a ot8!poly fic but here we are. I decided to give it a shot since i was eating up all the outlaw/wild west/lore au fics with ateez. i'm glad i decided to read this cause it's really amazing, i love the relationship the reader has with each of the members, and one of my favourite parts has to be that every member has a different nickname for her. When i started realizing this i was eating it up and anxiously waiting for the next nickname to appear (i was especially waiting for hongjoongs, and when i tell you i melted when he called her princess for the first time)

Django - @last-words-ofashootingstar (5.5k)

poly!woosan x reader / bouncy au / hint at poly!ot8

It's You - @holybibly (2 parts)

Part 1 / Part 2

poly!woosan x reader

funnily enough, i don't even read this for the spicier parts (which are also *chefs kiss*), i just genuinely love the chemistry and dynamic between those three because they're just so comfortable and shameless around each other, this is really something i need in my life.

#hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fic recs #kim hongjoong x reader #park seonghwa x reader #jeong yunho x reader #kang yeosang x reader #choi san x reader #song mingi x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #choi jongho x reader #ateez smut

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beabatiny · 3 months ago

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𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘌𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼 𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓆞 Jealousy Left Unwrapped - @freyaphoria yandere!matz x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Jenga And Jealousy - @hongjoongtime117 ot8 x reader (series) 𓆞 𓆞 Little Accidents - @bombuni owners!matz x kitty!reader x kitty!wooyoung (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Light It Up! - @cybrsan matz x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Mark me as yours - @littlefireball dragon hybrid!yeosang x dragon hybrid!reader x dragon hybrid!seonghwa (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 How I Play - @tinyidle idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Important - @yunniverse bf!idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Intoxicating - @atzaurora idol!hongjoong x idol!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Jealous Oppa~ - @mangomingus idol!hongjoong x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Kindergarten Love Story - @xomakara dad!kindergarten teacher!hongjoong x police officer!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓆞 Strange Tide - @jagibangbangchan pirate!seonghwa x siren!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Strawberry Cakes - @skrrts fiancé!non-idol!seonghwa x fiancé!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Take me to Paris... - @bvidzsoo mafia!seonghwa x single mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Take My Soul, Take My Heart - @itsbeeble pirate!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Taste Of You - @callmeagardengnome idol!seonghwa x mukbanger!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Day Off - @sweetiesicheng bf!yunho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Guerrilla - @sorryimananti-romantic doctor!serial killer!yunho x writer!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Ok, Cowboy - @everyonewooeverywhere cowboy!mechanic!yunho x reader (series) 𓆞 𓆞 Video Game Lover - @crimsonbubble streamer!yunho x gn!reader (thoughts) 𓆞 𓆞 You Right - @theyungihven bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Behind The Mask - @sweetblossomsss king!yeosang x servant!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Cotton Candy Skies - @shownusgfayoooo bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 The Doberman - @rems-writing bodyguard!yeosang x rapper!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Velvet Nights - @mingi-s-dimples angel!yeosang x angel!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Whispers In The Rain - @koyagifs idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 San Comes Home From Tour In The Middle Of The Night - @redzie02 idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Stargazers - @xuchiya non-idol!san x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 That's What I Like - @theyungihven millionaire bf!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Untitled - @songsanpotato idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Wonderland - @/goldendynastys yandere!san x reader (series) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Comfortable Lazy - @skrrts bf!non-idol!mingi x gn!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Unspoken Words - @koyagifs non-idol!mingi x reader ft.yeosang (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @dancinglikebutterflywings fiancee!mingi x fiancee!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @everyonewooeverywhere non-idol!mingi x reader (thoughts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Wanted Dead Or Alive - @xomakara cowboy!mingi x heiress!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Sleepover - @kitten4sannie wooyoung x reader ft.mingi (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 That's Not Your Food, Woo - @pettypuppy-jonghyun bf!idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 The Baby Bug - @xomakara dad!wooyoung x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 To Be The One - @cheeseceli idol!wooyoung x reader (thoughts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @thelargefrye idol!wooyoung x ninth member!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Amusement Love - @koyagifs best friend!idol!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Inevitable Ending - @wwooyology prince!jongho x servant!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 I Wished For You - @nightbeforethend bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Surprise, Surprise - @dancinglikebutterflywings bf!non-idol!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @bombuni bf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸

#𓇼 beabatiny #𓇼 beabatiny recs #ateez fics recs #ateez au recs #ateez smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

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eightmakesonebraincell · 5 months ago

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our leaves must fall before our flowers can bloom

genre: poly hockey team!ateez x coach fem!reader, enemies/strangers to lovers, athlete!au, slow burn, fluff, angst

length: 37.6k

c/w: sweaty and athletic ateez (warning well deserved), explicit profanity, themes of corruption and rocky family relationships, trauma, hurt/comfort, injuries, kissing, boys are in an established relationship, m x m interactions

synopsis: you become the new coach of the elite men's ice hockey team, the red devils. but with both yourself and the team carrying burdens of the past, you all find it difficult to see eye to eye. as you lead them to the championships in the korean ice hockey league, you discover that teamwork and trust is not as straightforward as it seems.

a/n: it has made me incredibly touched to see so many of my readers from the essence of youth come back to support this new oneshot. thank you from the bottom of my heart ♡ and as always, this fic would not have been possible without @sorryimananti-romantic and her undying support

if someone were to ask yunho–or anybody on the team–when he feels the most alive, his answer would be the same every single time: when he is on the ice, just like he is right now.

the air of the rink is already chilly, but with the added cold of emerging autumn, each rugged lungful he takes fills his chest with vigour. only his own heavy breathing can be heard as the rest of the players’ shouts become muffled into the background outside of his helmet. he tightens his grip on his stick, muscles locked and engaged with adrenaline. his vision narrows, an opening suddenly clearing itself through the tangle of sticks and jungle of skates–a golden opportunity for him to take.

“san!” he yells.

their usual goaltender glances upwards as he handles the puck rebounding off the boards. his jaw tightens and with a practised flick of his wrist, san chips the puck over an incoming stick’s attempt to block the pass. there’s a burst of explosive power as yunho speeds up along the opposite boards to receive the landing puck, hoping to break away from the opposing team’s offensive players before he passes it off.

the flash of a blue jersey appears in yunho’s vision with alarming momentum. they lower and widen their stance, shoulder positioned in front ready to knock him directly into the boards in an attempt to steal the puck, leaving yunho with no choice but to mirror their actions. he braces himself as the opponent rams into him with more force than a usual play, and in combination with their own towering height, yunho finds himself being pushed into the plexiglass panels as he loses possession of the puck.

involuntarily, he lets out a threatening growl of vexation. there is a teasing chuckle from the other player that still has him pinned against the wall despite the continuing game, which clearly tells him that the excessive body check was deliberate. yunho has half a mind to flip their positions, knowing he could easily overpower the other. but before he can adjust his stick out of the way to make good use of his hands, the opponent playfully knocks their helmets together.

“you’re hot when you get all competitive and riled up.”

all of the tension escapes yunho’s body, because he will never not find mingi’s attempts to flirt mid-game–with his mouthguard and resultant bumbling pronunciation–to be amusing. he endearingly rolls his eyes and sighs, “have you not heard of, ‘don’t poke the bear’?”

“you’re not a bear, though,” mingi squirms cheekily on the spot, still up in yunho’s personal space because he knows the older will never be truly annoyed by his antics. “you’re just a cute, harmless puppy.”

before mingi can blink, yunho grabs him by the shoulders and pins him against the wall. yunho smirks, “and they also say, ‘let sleeping dogs lie’.”

wooyoung tongues his cheek with mischief at the sight of the two, nice and cosy against the walls of the rink. he hands his stick off to seonghwa, who is starting to remove his helmet, and skates in their direction, ignoring the dull throb in his left ankle. wooyoung only bothers to slow himself down slightly, instead letting his trajectory be cushioned by something else.

mingi lets out a pathetic noise as the air is squeezed out of his chest from the impact of wooyoung and yunho’s added weight. the latter grunts out, a little breathless, “woo, please, you’re going to knock somebody out like this one day.”

it goes in one ear and out the other as wooyoung grins up at him to state, “seonghwa scored so we lost ‘cause you were too busy making out with mister mingles here.”

yunho pushes off the wall to free himself from the sandwich of bodies and pivots on his skates to jab wooyoung’s padded chest. “you and san were doing the exact same thing just five minutes ago.”

“we’re on the same team,” wooyoung shrugs, “whereas mingi is not, so you’re fraternising with the enemy. now come on losers, captain’s wrapping up practice.”

the three of them glide along the ice to rejoin the rest of the team, where they are stepping out of the rink to sit on the benches. they remove their helmets and start unlacing their skates as hongjoong gathers the attention of the team.

“great work from everybody today, especially you, jongho. your backhand wrist shots are improving–keep it up. now just a reminder to everyone that our regular games start next week so i want you all to make sure you are stretching and cooling down properly,” he emphasises. he pointedly looks at yeosang, who has already begun to wander his way off to the changerooms, at the same time that seonghwa scruffs him by the back of his jersey and gently tugs him back to the team.

jongho peels off his blue practice jersey as he scans the arena and absentmindedly asks, “is coach still not here? it’s already the end of practice.”

“he said he had something to sort out today, but would come round if everything went well,” seonghwa answers, also craning his neck to look for signs of their coach.

from where you and coach cho are watching from the designated scouting area in the arena, the team is unable to spot you two. you had come from the final negotiations of your contract with coach cho and had watched their team, the red devils, play the last period of their game. despite it only being a friendly match amongst the team’s players, you have already grasped a sense of their playing style–it is heavy on the offensive at the expense of defence, just like how you used to play. it is fast-paced, aggressive and…prone to injury.

“let’s go meet the team,” coach cho voices, making his way out of the viewing area as you follow beside him. all the players look up from their skates that they are still unlacing or from their stretches on the floor when you two near the arrangement of benches surrounding the rink. they greet coach cho enthusiastically and you can see why from the way the older man smiles at them like they are his own sons.

“y/n, this is the team, the red devils–my pride and joy. boys, this is y/n,” he introduces. “i had to miss practice to meet up with y/n and make sure she was happy to sign on as part of the red devils.”

said team gives you disinterested glances, a complete change from the receptivity with which they respond to coach cho. one of the red-jerseyed boys, who you recognise as wooyoung, utters sarcastically, “cute, but we don’t need a mascot or cheerleader.”

coach cho chuckles lightly, “she’s your new coach.”

“hold on, you were serious about–” “–are you coaching a different team–” “–you don’t want us anymore?”

some of the boys erupt into a barrage of questions, trying to make sense of the sudden announcement, whereas the others stay quiet, flickers of flashbacks stirring up from within the depths of their memories. their coach raises his hands to settle them as he apologises, “i didn’t want to say anything before i was one hundred percent sure that things would go ahead, and i wasn’t sure whether y/n would accept the offer.”

“is it because your wife is due soon?” san interrupts.

coach cho nods, “with twins, and i want to be present to help–as a husband and a father. but that just isn’t feasible as your coach, as much as i love you boys.”

training as professional athletes takes incredible perseverance, discipline and commitment. there are early mornings, late nights, weekends and public holidays. it takes sacrifices in the form of time and relationships, especially when they must travel away from home for up to weeks on end to compete in matches. and with the start of the regular season, the intensity is only going to ramp up. as hard as the athletes train, the coach works twice as hard to make it all possible.

the team needs somebody to be there for them to ensure they make it into the playoffs, and it just won’t be fair for anybody–the players and his own family–if coach cho were to keep his position. and the team gets it, they really do, but–

“she’s the new coach?” yunho frowns in confusion. “no offence, but we’re not a bunch of kids for her to practise being a soccer mum to.”

“she was the assistant coach for the grey eagles,” coach cho discloses.

“the grey eagles? the under-21 men’s championship team?” yeosang looks incredulous.

mingi sceptically comments, “the fact that we’ve never seen or heard of her before probably tells us enough.”

hongjoong’s lips purse sourly as he tries his hardest to analyse the situation with the professionalism of the team’s captain. but with the sudden change in coaches and the same critiquing doubts as mingi, hongjoong cannot help but feel his personal judgement webbing over his mind. over the team’s entire career as an elite ice hockey team thus far–five years, now well into their sixth–the red devils have only ever had two coaches. coach cho has been with them for the longest and whilst it took the team a while to eventually warm up to him, he has been with them for almost quadruple the amount of time it took to trust him.

the team’s alternate captain, seonghwa, speaks to you directly, “if you don’t mind me asking, why are you not playing as an athlete yourself? you’re clearly our age–nowhere near retiring.”

you knew from the very start that your age would make your credibility as a coach much lower, and your answer to seonghwa will not help your case either. “i stopped playing.”

“how come?”

the trigger of memories fills your nose with a sharp stinging smell. you blankly reveal, “i chose to stop playing.” you know exactly how it sounds like to somebody else, even more so to professional athletes. coach cho has also told you of the team’s hardheadedness and strong will when it comes to the passions of their career, so you are expecting the cold receptiveness that you are met with.

your response strikes the wrong chord within wooyoung. there was a point in his career not too long ago when the choice of continuing to play or not was at risk of becoming a forced decision. the way you answer so callously with those very words that had threatened to tear his world apart has his jaw grinding and eyes darkening, and he is not the only athlete in the arena who feels similarly.

“i would rather choose to die before i choose to stop playing. ice hockey is my entire life and without it, i am not living either,” hongjoong jabs and you cannot help but clench your fists because you know exactly what he means. still, you stay quiet as he continues, “sorry, but i can’t respect a ‘coach’ who chose to stop playing.”

at the captain’s words and subsequent move to leave for the changerooms, the rest of the team also gather their equipment and follow his steps. san’s feet falter in front of you, expression hesitant until he decides to voice, “our team needs a bit of time. it’s hard for us to warm up to…outsiders, and i know it might not mean much to say this but we have our reasons. don’t expect us to blindly trust you just because you’re a coach.”

the use of the word ‘outsider’ does not go unnoticed as you nod, “of course.”

san jogs off to rejoin the others and coach cho hums, “guess some things haven’t changed. they were just as prickly to me when i first became their coach.”

you raise an eyebrow, “prickly? to you?”

“yes, believe it or not,” he chuckles nostalgically. “we’ve come a long way because i’ve been their coach for years now. but it took me a while before i was able to break down their walls.”

you briefly mull over the information, then ask out of curiosity, “what would you have done if i didn’t sign the contract?”

“begged you to rethink your decision,” he jokes with a pleased chortle. “i would have to start looking for a different coach, i suppose. you were my only pick.”

“but why me, of all people? there are so many other experienced coaches that you can choose from.”

he looks at you, eyes glinting with intuition and confidence as he simply says, “you’re familiar with their playing style. they play just like you used to.” at your silent processing, coach cho probes, “why didn’t you tell them the real reason?”

you smile wistfully, “i didn't tell them because i’m not here to gain their pity.”

some of the boys’ voices grow louder as they emerge from the changerooms, changed into fresh clothes and their kit bags slung over their shoulders. you hear one of them ask, “captain, is she really going to be our new coach?”

they step out from the facility’s corridor and you accidentally make eye contact with hongjoong, yet neither of you look away. maintaining a steady gaze directly at you, he responds with a slight glower, “maybe, but she’s only the coach by title. i’m still the captain of the team, so let’s see who everyone listens to.”

as they exit the rink’s arena, you feel a fire of determination growing inside of you. you have won over your own demons and you have won the championships before–this is nothing in comparison. whether your next words are for coach cho or for yourself to hear, it does not matter.

“i may not play anymore but i was still once an athlete, and no athlete has ever, in their career, wanted pity. i’m here to earn the team’s respect and i will win over them, especially their captain.”

you watch the swing of the glass door as it shuts behind the players, catching a brief glimpse of the trees lining the arena’s perimeter. it is the first day of autumn when you meet the red devils for the first time and outside, the leaves are beginning to change their colours.

autumn, 2018: pre-season

hongjoong believes all coaches are to be respected. it does not matter what kind of team they coach, how many years of experience they have, or whether they have built up a reputation for themselves. to hongjoong, respect for coaches is not something earned nor negotiable–it is something well-deserved and expected, as is for anybody in a position that is higher in the chain of command.

he may be the captain of their unofficial team, but hongjoong knows that the way a team can place their blind trust in the coach is irreplaceable, regardless of how much the other players rely on him too.

hongjoong watches as his boys carry out the practice drill he has set up for them. yeosang handles the puck around the cones before passing it to wooyoung, primed offensively near the goal to make a quick shot, who groans when his shot rebounds off the post. as he retrieves the disc, yeosang takes over wooyoung’s position near the goal ready to receive yunho’s pass as he starts to work his way through the cones next.

they are limited in the type of drills they can practise because hongjoong was only able to rent half of the community rink for a measly two hours. the boys are not even in proper uniform, wearing only their shin guards under their sweatpants and gloves on their hands to prevent any injuries when the centre had stated very firmly they would not be allowed in with their bulky equipment.

and yet, none of this has dampened the boys’ spirits. san teasingly brags that it is his chance to show off his skills other than goaltending, and jongho thanks hongjoong quietly for renting the rink in the first place. their understanding nods and comforting hugs make hongjoong’s heart clench, even more so as the team eagerly and diligently practise the drills in mediocre conditions but with fiery determination to prove their worth as newly-signed athletes under the kq blue birds.

this is exactly why hongjoong is driven to find them a coach–any coach: to give his boys a solid pillar they can rely on, because he himself lacks the resources and strings to pull in order to fulfil their shared dreams. he needs to keep his boys as one team, instead of scattered into other teams as extra players like a gracious opportunity for the leftovers, since kq does not yet have a coach available for the eight of them.

“captain!”

the excitement in seonghwa’s voice startles hongjoong more than the speed at which the alternate captain skates towards him. seonghwa digs his skates into the ice at the last second, stopping himself just shy of knocking the other over as he exclaims, “he emailed back!”

“the coach you reached out to?” hongjoong clarifies, eyes growing wide.

having caught wind of his signed contract as a professional athlete, an acquaintance of seonghwa’s had reached out offering to pass on the contact of their acquaintance, who apparently knew somebody with coaching experience. it was rare for a coach to take on a rookie team unless there were incredible benefits, so he and hongjoong had drafted and sent an email with little to no expectations for a reply. but seonghwa’s furious nodding is telling otherwise, and his eyes sparkle as he shoves his phone in hongjoong’s face to show him the email.

dear mr park, thank you for your interest and for reaching out with your proposal. i have looked at your athlete profiles and it appears that you all have big dreams and extremely promising futures. it would be my utmost pleasure to help you all reach your true potential by coaching your team. if you would like to arrange a meeting in person to discuss expectations and conditions regarding training, competitions and future championships prior to finalising the contracts with your company, please let me know what times and dates best suit yourself and your team captain, mr kim. i look forward to working with you all. kind regards, coach yeon

“holy shit,” hongjoong steadies seonghwa’s giddy hand to read the email again. when he reaches the last line, he starts once more from the beginning to make sure his eyes are not lying to him. then he breathes out with finality, “holy shit. am i reading this right?”

“yeah, joong. you’re reading it right.”

hongjoong is not often one to be affectionate with the others, but yanking seonghwa into a bone-crushing hug as he repeats holy shit like a mantra is the only response he is able to muster. the older laughs wetly, throat constricting with overwhelming joy and he holds onto his captain until the other pulls back.

“you tell them, okay?” seonghwa does not wait for a response before he is raising his voice to gather the others, “boys! hongjoong has good news for us!”

like puppies responding to the call of food, their heads immediately perk up and they abandon the puck and the drill to speed towards their two captains. there is a clamour of questions as they enthusiastically predict what is going to be said.

“are they letting us use the rink for longer?”

wooyoung squeezes himself in between yunho and mingi to ask, “are we getting the whole rink?!”

“no way,” san gasps, “or did our practice jerseys arrive?”

hongjoong’s eyes soften at their guesses. his boys demand so little from him when he wants to give them everything they could never even think of asking for. he glances at seonghwa, who looks just about ready to burst from his own excitement, then reveals, “we’ve found a coach willing to take on our team.”

dead silence. yeosang blinks and wooyoung’s jaw drops. jongho, who had been lazily circling around the group, comically slows to a stop, joining the rest of the boys in frozen stupor. it is only broken when yunho dares to confirm, “does this mean we won’t be rostered as extras for other teams?”

everyone’s hopeful eyes look at hongjoong. he nods, “we’re staying together and playing as our own team.”

it is obvious the moment the information registers in their minds and the implications of what it means for the team’s future starts to sink in. they explode into a flurry of movement and hongjoong and seonghwa find themselves swept up into the middle of a clumsy group huddle as shouts are exchanged, uncaring of who is listening or talking.

“are we finally playing in championships with the big dogs?”

“we’re going to play interstate?”

“oh my god, what if we get into nationals?”

“nah, fuck that boys, let’s go international! we’re going to represent korea one day and become the best team in the world.”

the amount of voices overlapping one another are overwhelming, but it is overwhelming in the way that it makes hongjoong soar up into the clouds, wings stretched to their full span and carried by the hollers and cheers surrounding him in every direction. his cheeks hurt from smiling because these are the boys that he knows and loves.

they may only be a small team of eight, but they have dreams that are big enough to fill the entire universe.

“what’s the coaches name–” “–know if they’re a good coach–” “–teams have they coached before–”

seonghwa chuckles as the boys hound them with question after question and hongjoong appeases their curiosity dotingly, “we’ll find out when we meet him–coach yeon.”

but it does not matter what qualifications coach yeon has or does not have, and it does not matter what teams he has coached or has not coached before. what matters is that he is a coach and he is willing to be their coach, because it means that hongjoong and his boys are finally taking the next step towards their big dreams.

and most importantly, they will be in this together…as the red devils.

autumn, present: regular season

“again.”

hongjoong grits his teeth, taking up his position as centre again in the marked circle for the practice drill. even during defensive faceoff plays, he and the team are accustomed to taking on an aggressive approach. when he wins possession of the puck, the wingers–usually yeosang and wooyoung, or jongho when substituted on–quickly breakaway and move forward with him into the offensive zone.

obviously, they have other strategic plays too to switch up the predictability of their tactics, such as moving the puck towards the board whilst yeosang covers him, or by passing the puck back to the mingi in defence. but overall, their team is capable of rapidly flipping from defensive to offensive play using the aggressive setup.

the practice drill you are currently running emphasises heavily on the defence–the reverse setup play. hongjoong is to pass backwards but in the direction of the boards whilst yeosang supports and wooyoung covers the area directly between the circle and san. mingi moves towards the boards to receive the puck, and their other defenceman, yunho, assists with covering the goal.

hongjoong does admit that this play is much safer and stabler, but it is also much slower and…cowardly. his team is called the red devils for a reason and their reputation as demons on ice is not something that he is going to throw away–not following years of blood, sweat and tears to stand back up after falling during their rookie year.

when he assumes his stance once again inside the faceoff circle opposite seonghwa, who is playing the centre position as the mock opponent, you drop the puck onto the centre dot. the moment it hits the ice, hongjoong clears it with his stick towards the right boards. it doesn’t go back far enough for mingi to receive though, so yeosang makes the split decision to burst sideways to retrieve the puck, all three forwards moving aggressively in synchronisation to advance offensively once he gains possession.

you stop them, shaking your head. “again.”

it has been a week since your first meeting with the team, and with the start of the regular season, training has focused on refining their strategies. the red devils are playing in the korean ice hockey league for the second time, an annual national championship with a singular men’s division.

teams from all over korea gather in seoul to compete in regular-season games at the gangneung ice arena against the other teams in rotation. depending on the number of participants, the red devils will need to play an average of three games a week for the next five to six months. then based on the outcome of the games, if your team scores within the top thirty two, they will be able to enter the playoffs.

last year, the red devils were only able to make it to the quarterfinals before they were knocked out. but considering it was their first time competing in a proper championship–as opposed to the rookie leagues and interstate competitions they competed in during the first four years of their career–making it into the top eight teams out of over a hundred or so teams was already impressive enough.

your team’s first regular-season game starts tomorrow, so it does not matter that this is the sixth time in a row that you have stopped them during this drill. you will make them restart until they perfect the play. with that in mind, you release the puck onto the centre dot of the circle once more, but this time seonghwa wins the faceoff, clearing it to the side where jongho is waiting as his left wing. seonghwa looks at you guiltily and anticipates the word that will come out of your mouth.

you bite your tongue, having sensed the rising tension amongst the team an hour ago, but now they are almost at their boiling point. closing your eyes briefly, you try reminding yourself to think about the situation from your players’ perspectives.

their career progression rides on this championship, and with their grit and determination, they will not settle for simply beating their own record in ranking. no, they vie for first place. only the top team secures a position in the international ice hockey league, the most coveted opportunity to represent korea in the championship between the world’s best teams.

and it is during this vital time–when the stress levels and stakes are as high as they can get–that the boys have suddenly had to change coaches. not only have they lost their most trusted support and guide, they have only had one week to adjust to their new one–you. in the grand scheme of things, one week is nowhere near enough time to develop any sort of meaningful relationship where they are able to listen to and rely on you.

taking a breath, you explain, “being so focused on offence leaves your team vulnerable if the opposing team also has aggressive forwards that you can’t break through. the faceoff play needs to be adjusted for those situations, otherwise it’ll be too difficult to control the puck and it will more than likely end up in chaos. it won’t be a game of professional skill anymore, but a circus of dirty play.”

your defence-focused coaching style has worked well for all the past teams you have taught, both men’s and women’s teams. you know that the boys play an offence-focused style; you are reminded too closely of your past self every time they rush head-on into every situation. and it is exactly because of that–because you know the dangers that come with their aggressive style–that you are making them adjust their play. their career comes first and if they suffer an injury, there may not be a career left.

so you will play the bad cop if you have to. they will come to understand you one day.

san bites down on his mouthguard as he listens from his position in the goal. he is able to see each and every play unfold, better than any other of his teammates, so he knows where you are coming from. whilst he has become used to the pressures that come with goaltending, no amount of training or competitions will ever fully eliminate the sudden spike in fear and anticipation the moment the opposing team’s forwards break past yunho and mingi.

san is the team’s last line of defence and the best outcome is that a game never comes down to just him, the opponent’s stick, and his goal. it is true that his team needs to work on their defensive plays, so when the others huff in defiance and reluctantly reset their positions, san simply lowers his centre of gravity in wait for your cue to restart the drill.

“again.”

outside the arena, the echo of sticks and scraping of skates sound faintly as the first leaf of autumn begins to fall to the ground. as time passes, the rest of the leaves will also succumb to a similar fate, only differing in how. some will fall in a slow and graceful descent, whilst others…

…a rapid and spiralling whirlwind downwards.

counting the heads and finding all eight of your players seated in the bus, you nod to the driver to close the door and start driving. most of the boys have chosen to sit on a two-seater by themselves, only yunho and mingi choosing to sit together. they share a set of wired earphones, eyebrows furrowed in concentration at one of their phones, likely monitoring one of their own matches or one of another team’s.

the rest of the boys sit alone, faces grim and tight as they stare out the window. they look exactly like you used to and it hits you with a wave of bittersweet nostalgia.

the ride to the competition venue–much less for the very first game of the season–is always the quietest, air strung tight with nerves as everyone prepares themselves psychologically for the inevitable pressures that the game will bring. being able to compose and centre one’s mindset is already half the battle won, and whilst nobody says it out loud, you all know that today’s results, despite it only being day one, will set the tone for the next four to five months as they fight to qualify for the playoffs.

as you make one final sweep from the back of the bus to the front whilst it pulls away from the curb, you accidentally make eye contact with yeosang. you give him a polite smile and he opens his mouth, closes it on second thought, then decides to ask anyway, “do you want to sit here?”

it is a lie to say that you are not surprised by the question, so you stumble over your response as you stammer, “oh, okay. thanks.”

yeosang reciprocates your noise of disorientation and when he fumbles to move his bag aside that had been occupying the space beside him, you belatedly realise he was only asking out of courtesy. but backtracking now and rejecting his offer would be a million times worse and you can only try to hide the flaming heat behind your cheeks as best as you can as you sit down in the seat.

he fiddles with the straps of his bag and you can feel his discomfort reeking off his hands. in an attempt to break the ice, you glance at him, “are you nervous for the game?”

he nods, “don’t think it gets any less nerve-wracking no matter how many games you play.”

“well this is a pretty big championship. you have every reason to feel nervous,” you hum.

yeosang levels you with a look. “are you trying to make me feel better or worse?”

you do not know him well enough to be able to discern whether he is joking with you or not. opting to clear your throat instead, you point out, “you have your teammates who you can trust.”

“yeah…teammates.”

and you have me, too, as your coach, you want to say.

the hopeful glimpse in the dark of your eyes is enough for yeosang to pick up on your thoughts. he swallows uncomfortably and looks away.

we don’t know that yet.

you bite the inside of your cheek, trying once more to extend the conversation after a pregnant pause. “did you guys have a coach before cho?” either you have a shitty sense of appropriate conversation starters or yeosang wants absolutely nothing to do with you (it is likely both, but one can be optimistic), because his shoulders tense almost immediately.

“we did…just one,” he starts off carefully. you think that that is going to be the end of it, but then he adds on, “we don’t really talk about him though.”

and there it is–the end of the conversation. it is his nice way of telling you that there is no more to be said, so you sit the rest of the ride in silence next to yeosang, pretending not to let the sheer awkwardness suffocate you.

when the bus arrives at the gangneung ice arena, you hurry to alight and only then do you feel like you are able to breathe again. you plaster on a smile and notify the boys, “your first game is in two hours against the panthers. you’ve been allocated locker room 3B.”

they make their way into the centre and you trail behind in wait as they find their designated space. warm-ups will be first so they will not be needing their full gear just yet, which means it should not take long for them to change.

inside the locker room, the red devils shrug off their bulky duffle bags and change into their game jerseys, lacing and relacing their skates to ensure the snuggest fits. hongjoong alerts, “boys, time to go out and start warming up,” receiving a chorus of acknowledgement as everyone grabs the rest of the gear that they need.

before jongho places his phone into his assigned locker, he habitually taps on the screen one last time to check for any notifications and finds a single text from his younger brother, jonghyuk. he knows he should not read it, much less right before his first game, but the smaller part inside him that yearns for his family’s recognition dares to hope for something. dragging the preview down to avoid opening it, jongho reads the text.

are you just going to keep pretending you haven’t read our messages?

jongho clenches his jaw and swipes the notification away as if that will also erase it from his mind. tossing his phone into the locker, he shuts it with a harsh swing, resting his forehead against the cool metal as he closes his eyes and breathes out shakily. this game–this championship–jongho has to win; he cannot afford to lose.

“captain.”

hongjoong turns around to see jongho striding up towards him, brows furrowed and voice troubled as he questions, “are we really not going to tell coach what our game plan is? shouldn’t we work together with her?”

“jongho,” the captain sighs, “we got lucky with coach cho, but we know better than anyone else that not all coaches are like him.”

from where he has been listening in on the conversation at the doors leading out of the locker room, seonghwa’s shoulders stiffen. there is a moment of silence; the rest of the team have already made their way to the ice rink.

“what if we lose?”

it is the way that his voice grows small and timid that hongjoong realises it is not his captain that jongho needs right now. hongjoong’s gaze softens as he searches the younger’s eyes, “did your family say something again?”

he receives no answer but it tells him more than enough. “you trust me?”

jongho’s almost imperceptible nod does not escape hongjoong’s observations, so he continues to reassure, “we’ll win. my boys are the best players, you included, and we already have experience playing in this competition.” he ducks down slightly to meet jongho’s gaze, “and even if we do lose? we lose because of our own skills–not because of anybody else.”

his words tug a small smile out of the corner of the youngest’s lips, and hongjoong returns it with a relieved smile. with a nudge, he sends jongho in the direction of the door, where seonghwa pretends to ruffle his hair affectionately knowing that it will be dodged. seonghwa chuckles lightly and watches him walk off, unbeknownst to his captain watching him.

“hey,” hongjoong calls out gently, “i know what you’re thinking, but that wasn’t what i meant.”

seonghwa looks back and winces, “i can’t help it.”

“and that’s why i will keep telling you no matter how many times you need to hear it. it is not your fault–never was, and never will be,” hongjoong cocks his head playfully as he raises an eyebrow.

“same goes to you then, captain,” seonghwa returns the banter, shoulders relaxing and head shaking, “not your fault either.”

“you’re right, so let’s get the fuck out there and smash our game, yeah?” hongjoong slings his arm around the other and leads them both out of the locker room to join the rest of the boys.

what he does not say, though, is that seonghwa is wrong. seonghwa may have been the one to reach out to coach yeon, but hongjoong was the one who made the executive decision to accept and trust coach yeon.

he is not going to make the same mistake twice this time, because it is not just about protecting his dreams, his career, or those of his teammates–it is about protecting the people he loves.

hongjoong will not let them fall…not again.

winter, 2018: regular season

jongho twirls his phone in his hand, intermittently turning the screen on and off. he sits in the corner of the locker room, away from the rest of the boys as they wait for coach yeon to return from checking in and filling out their required paperwork. only several competitions later will they realise that their locker room is small, cramped and dim, but to their fresh, bright-eyed excitement at competing in a professional league for the first time, they hardly have time to critique the assigned space.

the phone comes to a stop. making up his mind, jongho taps on the screen and navigates to the keypad. dialling his mother’s number, he brings the phone up to his ear and waits with bated breath as it is left to ring.

“what do you want,” comes her curt response when she finally picks up.

jongho’s words falter, “oh, nothing…i just wanted to tell you that we’re playing our first game today.”

“game? your little team doesn’t even have a coach,” his mother patronises.

shoulders curling in on themselves, jongho hesitantly voices, “i told you last month that we got a coach.”

“i forgot,” she brushes him off, “and it must not be a very important competition then, seeing as it isn’t worth remembering.”

“there’s prize money,” he reveals. maybe if he can bring some of it home for his parents, they will recognise his efforts.

she sceptically probes, “is it national? international?”

“no…regionals.”

“is it ranked at least?”

“it’s just an entry-level competition for rookie teams,” jongho trails off, discouraged and confidence in shambles.

his mother scoffs at his answers, none of which are the ones she wants to hear. “you have no excuse not to win this competition, then. this is child’s play. just look at jonghyuk. he’s two years younger than you, yet already has his eyes on the olympics. if you lose, i don’t want to hear about it–don’t bring shame to our family.”

“okay,” jongho mumbles, but his answer is only heard by the beeping dial of the ended call…and the rest of the boys it seems, if not apparent by the sombre hush that has settled over the room and the worried lips that he sees when he looks up.

yeosang’s mouth parts, the younger’s name on the tip of his tongue, but then coach yeon enters the locker room and calls for their attention. jongho gives them a reassuring smile before setting his phone beside him on the bench and directing his gaze to their coach, grateful for the distraction. it leaves yeosang and the others with no choice but to drop it for now.

coach yeon erases the old scribbles on the room’s whiteboard and replaces it with rough markings of the hockey rink. he drags the magnets into the different zones, each one representative of a player, as he goes over the final lineup and their respective positions based on the opposing team they have been pooled against.

“stay strong on the offensive and maintain a 2-1-2 formation where possible–yeosang, i want you up there with hongjoong and put pressure on the other team. if they gain puck possession, both of you fall back to where wooyoung is and maintain 3-2.”

the three forwards nod and coach yeon touches one of the magnets positioned on the player’s bench. “jongho, you’ll come on for your shift during the second period. whoever you replace will come back in later to sub the other wing. yeosang and wooyoung, you should both be playing again during the third period.”

“yes, coach,” jongho acknowledges.

coach yeon continues on to review their game plan and hongjoong steps up to assist with detailing their different strategic plays. to jongho though, their words sound like he is listening from underwater as his mind involuntary drifts off. it is a small saving grace that his parents do not care for his match, because it means that they will not see that he is not part of the starting lineup.

for seven of the people in the locker room, winning the competition is an aspiration, but for one of them it is an expectation. and for the remaining individual, the competition in itself is an opportunity, but for an entirely different reason.

winter, present: regular season

inevitably, you find out. when discrepancies start to occur between training, pre-game meetings and the actual games, it is only a matter of time before you start to notice them.

it starts off with the uncommon plays that are simply a response to the game situation–ones that are dire and not often brought up prior to them actually occurring. during their fourth regular game of the season, the red devils are behind by two goals. the last period is almost over when they miraculously gain the power advantage after two of the opposing players are sent to the penalty box in quick succession.

before you realise what is happening, hongjoong gives his team a signal and both yunho and mingi on defence and san in the goal all rush forward to attack with the wings. you can only watch with wide eyes as they risk an empty net in the hopes of scoring two much-needed goals to even the playing field.

wooyoung manages to score one with a quick shot, but with the release of the opponents from the penalty box, their advantage is put to an end and they ultimately finish the match with a loss. you do not dwell too much on their sudden change in tactics despite the lack of communication with you, because you understand that every single game requires a different approach. sometimes, there is no time to strategise, only time to act.

but one occurrence turns into two, and two turns into several. and when, during one of their matches the week prior, jongho and wooyoung swap positions on the left and right sides of the rink as soon as the youngest replaces yeosang’s shift, it becomes quite conclusive that they are deliberately withholding information from you.

the boys are not brainless. it is not a coincidence for you and the team to discuss one game plan in the locker room only for it to completely change the moment they step onto the hockey rink.

you silently watch as the boys prepare for a faceoff in their defensive zone. they are currently playing against the incheon bears and the timing of the penalty puts you all on edge; the score is currently tied four to four and only twelve seconds are left on the clock. you had requested a time-out right as the referee made the call in hopes of stopping the momentum of the opposing team and to tell the boys to play defensively for this faceoff.

“play it safe. stall for the last twelve seconds and drag the game into overtime,” you had ordered.

the incheon bears have made a shift change with their player number four coming on for the faceoff, their right wing who has low stamina but terrifyingly accurate shots. he is responsible for most of his team’s goals and several other scoring attempts that san had only just managed to block. you are also almost certain that they will be aggressively body checking your players to make this faceoff count for them. your forwards have to play safely–not just for the sake of the game’s score.

at your defensive suggestion, san had nodded in agreement with you, “forwards need to make passes with sure lanes–nothing that can risk getting intercepted. go for the reverse setup play if you guys can.”

“we don’t need to take this into overtime,” hongjoong had started to argue, “other than number four, the rest of their offence is weak. as long as we break past him, we have an opportunity to score.”

“captain–”

the whistle blows before mingi can give his two cents, the mere thirty seconds for the time-out far too short, and the boys hurry to enter the rink again. hongjoong leans in quickly to say something to them before they disperse into their positions and mingi glances at you, almost guiltily.

you do not have the confidence that your team will listen. san may have seen the advantages in favouring a defensive play, but he is not the one who will decide which direction the puck will go when the referee drops it onto the ice. hongjoong is.

the hand of the referee raises to signal the start of the faceoff and both team’s centre forwards lower their stance. then the puck hits the ice. hongjoong’s nimble reflexes help him to snap his wrist and twist the puck away from the incheon bear’s player, wooyoung already surging ahead with explosive strides towards the other end of the rink. but just as you fear, the opponent’s left wing thunders at hongjoong with horrifying speed, intention solely to bowl him over onto the ice–not to steal the puck.

“fuck, captain!” you yell, heart leaping up into your throat as it cuts off your breath.

hongjoong’s eyes snap upwards and darken, jaws aching from the force with which he grinds his teeth together despite his mouthguard. he suddenly pivots on the edges of his skates and shifts his weight to only just narrowly miss the body check, then flicks the puck away before another player can knock him down.

he does not need to look before passing to where he knows wooyoung will be, years of synergy allowing their plays to connect seamlessly. except incheon bear’s number four has predicted their exact play, having been watching from the benches and noting your forwards’ preference for aggressive attacks.

“shit,” yunho curses under his breath, ice shaving under his skates from the accelerating force of his strides towards the puck. he is not going to make it in time. “mingi!”

seonghwa jolts up to his feet from the player’s bench, chest mid-inhale with apprehension at the captain’s pass. the puck is intercepted within the blink of an eye and with a well-timed punch turn around yunho’s attempt to regain possession, the rival team’s number four makes a shot for the goal.

it is too fast for mingi’s stick to block–arm still stretching out with desperation–and although san drops down to his knees in hopes of barricading the goal with his leg pads, the trajectory of the puck arcs higher than he had predicted.

as the puck soars past san and hits the netting of the goal, the buzzer sounds in tandem with the eruption of cheers around the rink. all around, the incheon bears swarm towards their number four in joyous celebration. mingi leans over to rest his hands on his knees from both exhaustion and defeat, and the other boys stand in similar stances as the outcome of the game registers in their tired minds.

in an attempt to cheer them up despite his own disappointment, seonghwa half-heartedly smiles at his boys as they slowly start to trudge their way off the rink. “we played well, boys. it was unlucky that our pass got intercepted, but we can do better next time.”

“good thing it isn’t the playoffs yet,” yunho tries to joke, “so we’re still in the competition.”

nobody cracks a smile and wooyoung’s face is dark, hand grabbing the walls in support to favour his left foot whilst lifting his skates over the slight ledge of the bench door. noting his slight limp, san quietly murmurs in worry, “did you tape your ankle?”

wooyoung shakes his head. “i ran out. forgot to buy some yesterday.”

“make sure you ice it tonight then, okay?” san gently supports him by the elbow to the benches so they can loosen the laces of their skates and grab their things before heading to the locker room.

you look away to flip through the notebook in your hand instead, trying to calm the shaking of your hands. ice hockey is a contact sport and you cannot protect the players from every single collision, but that last body check that hongjoong had been unprepared for still has acid pooling into your mouth. you scratch the score ‘4-5’ onto a page filled with their scores from this season thus far. a quick calculation tells you that the red devils have just as many losses as they have wins, which in all honesty, is not looking good.

this…conflict needs to be cleared with the team–with hongjoong. you cannot let this concealment of tactics and blatant changing of strategies right in your face continue any longer, because at the rate they are going, they may not even make it into the playoffs. and as you make eye contact with san, who has been staring despondently at the puck that still lies in his goal, you know that you must clear the air for the team, too. the last thing you need is for their own teamwork to fall apart because their differing opinions on your coaching starts to drive a wedge between them.

san stills when you break your gaze and glance away to pivot on your heels in the direction of the changerooms. from the way your mouth thins and neck becomes rigid, he is quite certain you are not happy—and rightfully so, san must admit. he stalls time by slipping off his bulky gloves and freeing his hands up to remove his helmet and mouthguard too.

noting that the other boys have grabbed most of their belongings, san heads off first to meet you, knowing that they will follow him soon after. he walks down the corridor easily balancing on his skates and rounds the corner to their locker room. except the sight that greets him has his feet halting and taking a step back behind the doorway.

your hand is deep in one of their bags. san is unsure whose bag it is, but the brief glimpse of the black canvas bag he caught is enough to tell him that it is one of theirs. although he is not making any accusations, he also cannot think of a reason as to why you would be rummaging through their bags.

“why are you just standing there?”

jongho’s voice startles him and he mumbles, “nothing,” before stepping through the door with the rest of his team. you are sitting on a bench in front of an empty locker now and if he did not know better, san would think that he had imagined the last minute. he glances discreetly at the bag you had been poking through and recognises it as wooyoung’s.

gingerly seating himself in front of his own locker, san waits on edge as mingi also grasps the atmosphere and sits too. gradually, the boys read the room with tactful glances and linger on their feet or on the benches. all except for one.

“what was that?” you cut through the silence with a directed question at hongjoong.

the captain continues to toss his gloves into his unzipped bag at the bottom of his locker before proceeding to unlace his skates, not once turning to look at you.

“what was what?”

you know fully well that he is aware of what you are talking about but you decide to humour him as you elaborate, “that last faceoff. i clearly told you to play defensively, but you went against it to try for a goal. and let me guess, you told the others to ignore what i said.”

“and so what if i did?” hongjoong challenges. yeosang’s wide eyes dart from side to side and yunho watches on uneasily as his captain finally turns to glare at you. “in that moment–as a player on the rink–i saw the opportunity and took it. if there is a chance to attack, then my team takes it. we don’t run away like cowards.”

the successive jabs at your athletic retirement cause a lick of phantom heat to wrap around your shoulder. your jaw grinds as you hold yourself back from biting the bait. “then i’m curious as to what opportunity you saw every time you decided to withhold game tactics from me, or every time you changed the strategy the moment you and your team stepped foot onto the rink.”

“maybe we would respect and listen to your coaching if it actually suited the playing style of our team. heavy defence may have worked for the grey eagles, but i think you need to reevaluate your abilities as a coach because it seems like you are forgetting that we are not them. forcing us to play defensively like your past team is not going to work for shit, coach,” hongjoong mocks.

you scoff to the side, questioning your own ears. it borders on a laugh, because that is his reason? you have been adjusting their playing style not only based on the situation that arises each game, but in general for their own good. earning his respect be damned, you will not stand for this.

you return the same scornful tone, “well then, captain, considering you just lost the fucking match because you were too arrogant to defend for twelve fucking seconds, i think you should also reevaluate yourself. are you acting in the best interest of your team, or are you acting in the way that best strokes your own ego? and let me remind you–if you suffer an injury, your whole team suffers with you.

“if you do not have the decency to at least tell me what you have discussed with the boys so that i can adjust the plays accordingly, then i think the shit results of your games so far speak for themselves. teams have a coach for a reason whether you like it or not…or maybe i should say, whether you trust them or not,” you snap.

running your stressed fingers through your hair, you tear your eyes away from hongjoong’s defiant eyes. the two youngest avoid your gaze, whereas yunho and yeosang simply stare at you with their jaws slack at a loss for words. the fire within you almost quenches when your eyes skim over san, mingi and even seonghwa, who are fiddling with their jerseys with guilt.

the room suddenly feels too small and too stuffy. “change. the bus will be waiting outside,” you mumble, then you leave without a further word.

nobody in the room moves in the wake of the argument, not even hongjoong, who continues to bore holes in the doorway that you have just disappeared through. yunho’s eyes awkwardly dart back and forth between hongjoong and the other boys before they land on the bench you had been sitting on.

the notebook you are always holding is still there, left behind in your haste to leave. he stands up to grab it, turning on his heels to chase after you when the open pages catch his eye. “woah,” yunho breathes out, double-taking and bringing the notebook closer towards him to read the contents. “this is insane.”

you have marked down not only their score for every single game they have played this season, but you have also tracked the statistics of who has scored, assisted, or successfully defended a shot. yunho flips back through the pages as the other boys come to crowd around him. there are logs of their major games from the past five years, diagrams of their faceoff plays and formations, analyses of their strengths in games won and similarly, analyses of their weaknesses in games they have lost.

“oh, fuck,” mingi curses when yunho flips to the more recent pages and they see that you have compiled the same details and information, only more concisely, for every single opponent team the red devils have played against this season. there is no way of seeing this–hours upon hours of hard work–and still questioning your intentions as their coach. “i think we owe coach a huge fuckin’ apology.”

hongjoong immediately furrows his eyebrows with displeasure. “are you taking her side, mingi?”

“captain,” mingi deliberately calls. it is at times like this where being the only logical thinker in the team has its merits. it may be harsh, but mingi must draw the line between their professional and personal life. this dispute must stay strictly within the bounds of their career without blurring the lines over into their romantic involvement with one another, otherwise things could get messy real fast.

mingi stares at the captain as he reasons, “this isn’t about taking sides. from a solely rational point of view, i think it may have been better for us to play safe and defend like coach had suggested.”

from beside him, san nods in agreement. mingi continues, “and i’m not just talking about today–there were a lot of times when coach’s plays might have worked out better than bulldozing ahead with offence. yeah, we’ve won a few games but we’ve also lost just as many. how many of those could we have won if we had trusted coach?”

yunho backs him up whilst gesturing vaguely between the both of them and san, “it’s easier for the three of us to see from defence, but their forwards were already close to intercepting our faceoffs quite a few times that game.”

hongjoong’s immediate thought is to defend himself, because he is their captain and their centre forward; the one who leads them into opportunities to score and win. he knows that every single time he chooses an aggressive play, it is at the risk of weaker defence. the odds have never deterred him, though, because he has always been confident in his abilities–in his team’s abilities.

but if, even now with the palpable experience of losing because of his own decision, it still does not deter him from taking risks in a situation where offence may be his downfall, then is he confident…or overconfident?

it is quiet for a moment. hongjoong swallows the urge to justify against their opinions–against your opinions–instead looking around at his team. he meets jongho’s round eyes and he remembers one of the very reasons why he is so committed to leading the red devils to the gold trophy. why, if he is becoming a hurdle instead to their victory, then he needs to change. “what does everybody else think? seonghwa?”

“we’ve been wary of y/n all this time, but the more games we play and especially after…” the alternate captain vaguely gestures in the air, “...today, we should really work with her instead of relying on ourselves. we’ve seen her notebook, too, and i think that’s more than enough for us to see that the effort and resolve she places in our team is genuine. we need to acknowledge that and apologise.”

“not even coach cho went to these lengths, and most definitely not coach yeon,” yeosang shrugs as he offhandedly comments.

spurred on by everybody else, san carefully voices the thought that has been lingering on his mind, “i think it’s time to tell her the truth. we owe her that much.”

the truth. the wounds that not even coach cho knows of.

hongjoong’s distrust in you may have initially been true to his desire to protect his boys from something like that from happening again. but he is now realising that you may have seen right through him. perhaps at some point in time, it became unwillingness to trust you, blinded by his prideful title as the demon king of the ice rink but at the expense of his team under the guise of wanting to safeguard them.

exhaling shakily, voice thick with regret, hongjoong accepts, “i’ve let you all down, haven’t i?”

“no,” yunho gently rebukes. “letting us down would be refusing to listen to us. we trust you for a reason, hongjoong.”

not just as a captain, but as everything else too.

seonghwa wraps an arm comfortingly around him. with hongjoong’s demonic presence on the ice once he is in the zone, it is easy to forget that he actually has a shorter stature than all of them. “that’s right, we trust you,” seonghwa affirms. “the next step is for us to trust our coach as well. we’re a team, but it isn’t complete without our coach.”

“and this apology isn’t yours alone to bear,” yunho reminds. “like seonghwa said, we’re a team and we all have fault in our behaviour towards y/n. if i’m honest, i had a shitty attitude and gave her a hard time at the start too,” he admits, wincing at the memory.

yunho is not the only one who grimaces as they reflect on their own actions–whether they happened when you were first introduced to the team, during your first training together, or even up until today’s game. but wooyoung, who has been quiet throughout the entire ordeal, still has a niggling doubt: one that is most personal to him in comparison to the rest of the team.

wooyoung reveals his thoughts, “but what about her choice to stop playing? i still can’t think of a good reason that i can respect her for having retired.”

“then we ask her,” mingi proposes.

jongho nods, also curious to know whether there is more to your decision than you have let on. “today, though? we don’t really want to come off as accusatory or anything. it might be good to give her some space today.”

“what’s our schedule looking like tomorrow? training?”

everyone looks at seonghwa, the most likely person to know their schedule off by heart. he does, and he scratches his head as he recalls, “no, recovery day. low-intensity cardio in the morning and…a team meeting with coach in the afternoon.”

“tomorrow it is, then,” hongjoong concludes. there are hums of agreement and the decision appears to appease wooyoung enough for the boys to start dispersing, heading to their lockers to finally start changing out of their gear.

wooyoung tosses his helmet and gloves onto the bench in front of his locker before sitting with a sharp but discreet inhale. he carefully loosens the laces on his skates, easing the left one off his foot slowly. the relief is immediate and his fingertips gingerly touch the throbbing area around his ankle. it is not too swollen, but he will need to ice it when they get back to their apartment and he will definitely need to buy more tape.

he sheds off the rest of his gear and uniform, leaving them on the bench too to air out while he takes a quick shower. as he roughly towels his wet hair afterwards, he drags his kit bag further out to make it easier to toss everything in.

“huh?” wooyoung makes a noise of confusion when he unzips the bag, hand immediately reaching in to grab the item that has caught his eye. it is partially covered by his hoodie but he would be able to recognise the packaging anywhere.

“what’s wrong?” san asks, glancing over.

the younger brandishes the brand new roll of strapping tape he has found in his bag, the frown etched across his face slowly relaxing into amused exasperation as he reasons, “i must not have seen this in my bag all along.”

san is about to snort and make fun of his inattentiveness, but a sudden thought stuns the smile off his face. it was not that wooyoung had managed to miss the spare roll in his bag. it was–

“y/n,” he quietly exhales with realisation.

at wooyoung’s questioning what?, san looks at him with upturned eyebrows. “the tape–coach was the one who put it in your bag, right before we all walked in here.”

“this…she gave it to me?” wooyoung’s face drops, remorse evident in the thickness of his voice. “but why?”

san gently squeezes his shoulder with a smile, simply answering, “because she’s our coach.” he turns to zip up his own kit bag and leaves wooyoung to digest the revelation. the boy is quiet for the rest of the time, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek as he stares ahead and absentmindedly follows the rest of his team out of the locker room.

when they exit the ice arena, they do not expect to see you. and yet, there you stand beside their bus waiting stonily with your jacket zipped up and hands in your pockets. you mentally count them off without acknowledging them as they start to store their kit bags under the bus and board. yeosang gets on first, taking a seat near the front of the bus as usual. he watches from the window as you wait for the rest of the boys.

you follow jongho up the stairs, the last to load his kit bag, and tell the driver that you are all good to leave. yeosang sits a little straighter as he tucks his small backpack further under the seat in front of him with his feet, having left the seat beside him empty. but before he can open his mouth with an offer of a seat, you have already sat right behind the driver. yeosang leans back into the cushions of his seat, unfamiliar with the sense of disappointment he feels.

the ride back from the competition venue–much less after a lost game–is always quiet, players both physically and mentally exhausted from the strain. this time, though, it is strikingly silent, but you appreciate it–need it.

you stare out of the window as the trees flicker past like a repetitive motion film. most of their leaves have already fallen off, littering the ground in a blur of tragic glory. and with the beginning of winter, the trees will soon become completely bare, bringing about the period of time when there is nothing but bleak emptiness.

winter, 2019: regular season

‘2019 ice hockey rookie stars tournament: team standings’

hongjoong stares at the printed piece of paper with seonghwa at his side, where the results of all the team’s round-robin games have been taped up onto the walls of the stadium. hongjoong does not even bother reading from the top, eyes going straight down to the bottom of the page instead.

the red devils are dead last, having lost every single one of their matches. even the korean penguins, who had nil wins either, had managed to beat them earlier today, ranking them at the lowest of all teams. it is fucking humiliating and hongjoong hates that the sport that had brought him and his boys all together, that they had immeasurable love for, is now one that fills them with shame and indignity.

nobody else but the two captains of the team have decided to look at the rankings. they had all already known towards the end of the regular season that they would not stand a chance at making it into the playoffs. and yet, hongjoong and seonghwa need to see the results for themselves. it is almost masochistic, forcing themselves to look at the fruitless results of their hard work in their first competition that has so devastatingly crushed their morality.

seonghwa picks at his cuticles fretfully and wonders whether he made the wrong decision to give up his education in pursuit of becoming an athlete. he thinks of his parents, who had encouraged him with supportive smiles and offers of financial support the moment he brought up the idea–was it all in vain?

“are you two done looking?”

both of the boys turn at the question to find a captain with his team waiting to look at the standings.

“yeah, sorry,” hongjoong mumbles before stepping aside to yield his spot. the players swarm forwards and he is pushed further back away from the list like a physical representation of his distance from the playoffs.

somebody from the other team yells, “we made it! we’re in the playoffs!” and they simultaneously break out into cries and cheers as they celebrate together.

hongjoong watches on bitterly, wishing with every cell in his body that that was him and his boys. how is he going to walk back into the locker room as their captain when all of his boys have eyes that are rimmed red and cheeks that are blotchy from despair–when there are captains like that who have successfully led their team to at least a chance at winning the competition.

the feeling of a pinky slowly hooking around his own draws hongjoong out of his pain. “let’s go back,” seonghwa murmurs, tugging him away from the still-celebrating team. together, both of them start to walk back through the hallways to their locker room.

“aren’t we down here?” seonghwa questions, standing at the t-intersection that hongjoong has absentmindedly walked straight past.

“oh, yeah. sorry,” hongjoong apologises and begins to backtrack. his ears suddenly perk up at the sound of a voice. “wait, doesn’t that sound like coach?”

before seonghwa can respond, hongjoong has turned around yet again towards the voice in search of their coach. seonghwa hurries to catch up and that is when he hears it too.

“have you transferred the money?”

“yes, i wired you the remaining amount the moment we won,” a deeper, unrecognisable voice reassures.

hongjoong’s footsteps falter, brows knitting together and head cocking to one side. he gestures for seonghwa to slow down, pressing a finger on his other hand to his lips. both of them creep forward silently.

the unfamiliar voice probes, “your team–you’re sure they don’t suspect anything?”

hongjoong and seonghwa do not need to see him to confirm their suspicions when they hear the unmistakable laughter of coach yeon. through the gravelly sound, he mocks, “they have no fucking clue even though they’ve lost every single one of their games. they’re dumber than fucking sheep. their captain tells me everything about their plays and strategies and they never question it when i change things around.”

seonghwa clutches the back of hongjoong’s jersey with a death grip, knowing that without it, his captain will punch coach yeon’s face into a bloody mess. but as much as their coach deserves it, it is not worth the disciplinary action that will inevitably follow, likely suspension, because–

“plus, even if they do somehow find out, what can they do about it? bullshit, that’s what. they have no evidence and they’re not going to risk blowing this up and ruining their own careers instead,” coach yeon boasts smugly. “losing like that as a rookie group in their first year out is completely normal. no one will believe them, and no coach is going to want their team after that because of their ‘shitty sportsmanship’ or out of fear of being accused in the same way if they lose again.”

at coach yeon’s words, seonghwa scrambles to put them into context with his dread-riddled mind. the echoing pounding in his ears tells him that he has just heard something that was never meant to be known. he does not even notice that the voices start to grow distant as the two men begin to walk off, but hongjoong does.

the trembling grip that is still on the back of his jersey grounds hongjoong enough not to throw everything away and sprint up to coach yeon with vile words and heated fists, but he also cannot do nothing. hongjoong peers around the corner before seonghwa can counteract his movement, desperate to identify who exactly coach yeon is talking to. except the revelation has him reeling, hands white from how hard his fingers dig into his palm–a stark contrast to the deep scarlet of flames that leap forth from his murderous eyes.

because the person who is walking beside coach yeon is the coach of the korean penguins. hongjoong and his boys have not been losing because of their skills they believed to be fucking shit–coach yeon has been fucking ensuring they lose.

for money.

winter, present: regular season

you stand on the balcony of your apartment. the sliding glass doors are shut behind you to keep the heat trapped inside, but for now you welcome the refreshing cold of the winter chill as you simply observe.

below on the streets, the miniature specks of people and cars mill around as if you are watching a game simulation. it is strangely humbling to think that each and every one of the people you see are living their own lives, completely distinct to yours with different yet very real problems of their own, but in the grand scheme of the cosmos, you are all insignificant.

you wonder what concern the people holding their coffee are plagued with right now; what problem the people crossing the street are facing. you wonder, if you were to tell them of your worries and they were to tell you of theirs, would you curse or thank the heavens?

the phone in your hand buzzes. you look to see if it is from coach cho and manage a small smile of relief when the notification is indeed from him.

apologies y/n, i was busy earlier. i can call now if you still need me?

you send an affirmative reply, then slide to answer the call that comes through. “hi coach, sorry to bother you.”

“no, you’re alright. is everything okay?”

you hesitate before revealing, “...i messed things up with the boys.”

“the team?” his voice goes gentle, fatherly nature extending to you too. “what happened?”

“hongjoong and i had an argument today after the game because he keeps changing the team’s plays without letting me know, or even after we’ve agreed on something else. it was only meant to be a talk, but then things escalated and we ended up fighting. i just–i don’t know what you saw in me, coach, because i don’t think i’m fit for the boys,” you ramble. “they’re not listening to me, they probably don’t even like me, and we’re going terribly with the season.”

you take a breath as you timidly admit, “i don’t think we’re going to make it into the playoffs and it’s going to be my fault.”

“hey,” coach cho grounds you, “making the playoffs would be great, yes, but the reality is that most teams don’t. and you’re still very young yourself–this is your, what…fifth year of coaching?”

throat too sticky to formulate a response, you simply hum.

“when i first started coaching, i was older than you and it was still a steep learning curve during my first ten years. i believed that coaches deserved the utmost respect and that my opinion was final. they’re my players, so of course i should be the one laying down the laws,” he chuckles. “but growing up was realising that whilst the respect is still there, it needs to be mutual. coaching a team is not a hierarchy of ‘i command, you listen’, but a show of leadership with the captain at the front of the team–not on top of them.”

his words strike a chord within you. coaching the boys was frustrating because they were not listening to you. but it should never have been a case of who listens to who–it should always have been a reciprocated relationship of everyone listening to one other.

as if he can physically feel the guilt that is starting to settle in the pit of your stomach, coach cho draws your attention to something else. “remember what i told you when we met the team for the first time? why i chose you specifically?”

“because of our similar playing styles?” you recall.

“exactly,” he confirms, “you know best the strategies and plays that work, and what their strengths and weaknesses are, because they were also your own. you need to be a coach to their playing style, not the other way around–they shouldn’t be a player to your coaching style.”

you cannot help but worry, “what if they get injured?”

“y/n, this is where your similarities can either be your biggest flaw or your greatest asset as a coach. no matter how safely they play, there will always be a risk of injury. that is just how the sport works and you know that the best. you can teach them to assess the risk and pull back if they really need to, but ultimately, there is no way of eliminating the risk completely.” coach cho pauses, then asks, “if you could meet your younger self, would you make yourself change your playing style?”

would you? as you imagine what you would tell your past self if you had the chance to, you find that you do not have an answer. perhaps for the sake of a prolonged career, you would. but then would it be your passion and skills that are playing the game, or your fears and worries?

if you cannot come to a decision even for yourself, then it is completely unfair for you to restrain the boys within the cages of what you view as safety for their own good. harnessing the defensive skills may have been functional for the grey eagles, but like hongjoong said, you are coaching the red devils now and it is not working for them. you must come to terms that you cannot protect the boys at every opportunity–consciously or unconsciously–you need to be a coach to them.

coach cho, aware that you have come to a conclusion, asks you one final question, “have you told the boys why you retired?”

“no, not yet,” you shake your head. you already have an idea of what he is going to say to you next.

“i think it’s time for you to tell them,” he advises. “remember, y/n, sometimes you need to be vulnerable with them first before you can make things right.”

after coach cho ends the call, you do not make a move to go back inside the apartment. you stay standing on your balcony, arms folded as you lean against the handrail listening to the faint rumble of traffic and hustle of busy activity. life goes on, and so will yours; you just have to make it count.

the trees on the streets may be stripped bare and lonely throughout winter, but eventually you learn to appreciate its nothingness. it is a necessity in order to start afresh.

mingi stares at the blinking cursor that sits in the open search bar. it has been empty for the last twenty minutes since he started up his laptop, wondering whether it would be an invasion of privacy for him to look you up on the internet.

he makes up his mind. he knows that he was the one to tell wooyoung only mere hours ago that they would ask you about your decision to retire tomorrow at the meeting, but mingi supposes it would not hurt to simply see what sort of athlete you were like before.

typing your full name into the search engine, mingi hits ‘enter’ and waits for the results to appear. he combs through the first several links quickly. they all have the same information; ice hockey databases and websites that detail your age, nationality, physical stats and position, but the sections that usually list your team and agency are now blank.

mingi is surprised to learn you were also a centre forward. he scrolls down to your game logs and match statistics that span from 2014 to 2019. you have won an impressive number of championships, most notably the under-18 and under-21 women’s ice hockey league. they are both international competitions and mingi is not sure how your reputation has flown under all of their radars.

frowning, he goes back to the search engine and clicks on the next page in an attempt to find more information. it is not until he clicks yet again to the next page that he finds a low-reputed news article from almost eight years ago where you are the main subject.

‘y/n l/n, youngest player of ‘black cats’, wins ice hockey championship at the age of sixteen’ the headline reads. there is not much to the article, but it outlines your admirable achievement at your young age as a rising prodigy in the ice hockey scene. mingi agrees, since he knows that you also go on to win another international competition a few years after that. just as he is about to close the tab, there is a recommended link that catches his eye.

he hovers his cursor over it. the hyperlinked headline does not explicitly say your name, but the phrasing really only alludes to one athlete considering it is a recommended link on your article. mingi does not know whether he wants to click on it, though, because he is afraid of confirming it is you.

and if it is…then the others will also need to see this too.

“hongjoong, guys, come look at this,” mingi calls out, balancing his laptop on his forearm as he walks out into the open living room. the others look up from where they are sitting or emerge from out of their rooms at his summon.

“what’s this?” hongjoong reaches out to receive the laptop and places it on the table. his eyes skim the screen, trying to make sense of what mingi is showing them.

mingi points to the hyperlink he had been mulling over. “i think we need to look at this.”

solemnity washes over the boys as their curious gazes dull and darken, realisation of what exactly they are reading dawning upon them. all at once, their hearts clench in solidarity. hongjoong clicks on the link. the only sound that permeates the silence is the rhythmic tick of the clock on the wall. nobody talks. nobody moves.

ice hockey star announces retirement following shoulder injury june 18, 2019 star player y/n l/n, centre forward of the ‘black cats’, has announced her retirement from professional ice hockey today. her decision follows lingering issues after suffering from a rotator cuff tear during the grand finals of this year’s under-21 women’s ice hockey league. l/n has been under the ice hockey spotlight ever since her win in the under-18’s league as the youngest player on her team. she is well-known for her offensive threat to the opponents, bold playing style and unparalleled skill breaking through the lines of defence. during the grand finals in april, l/n was body checked from the side by ‘polar bears’’ kim hyejin. although full-body checking is illegal in women’s hockey, it is not uncommon during the heat of competitions. l/n suffered a severe right rotator cuff tear and is reported to have received open surgery last month. l/n did not provide further details about her recovery, however stated that she plans to focus on her physical rehabilitation in the meantime.

the glare of the screen stares back at the boys as they finally understand exactly why you had retired and why you had come back as a coach–you were unable to fully step away from the sport you so loved with your entire life.

“coach wasn’t telling us to play defensively at all the crucial times just for the sake of the game strategy…” seonghwa grasps.

“...but because she didn’t want the same thing to happen to us,” hongjoong finishes. one of your heated remarks during your argument with him suddenly resounds in his mind: and let me remind you–if you suffer an injury, your whole team suffers with you. you had been reliving your own demons every single time hongjoong and his boys were playing aggressively on the ice. “fuck,” he mutters.

mingi leans down a little. “wait, see if there are any other articles about this.”

fingers dancing across the keyboard, hongjoong opens up a new tab. another quick search of your name with the keywords ‘injury’ and ‘retirement’ yields no further articles. mingi is certain you would have had more media coverage considering you had suffered an injury at the rising peak of your prodigious career, so he finds it strange that there is close to no information about this.

“it almost looks as if somebody had the articles purged from the internet,” mingi observes.

jongho nods with furrowed brows, “maybe y/n? but why would she go to the length to remove them?”

“i mean, wooyoung didn’t exactly go around flaunting off his injury to the media. maybe she didn’t want the attention anymore,” yeosang guesses.

yunho nudges wooyoung playfully as he comments, “no offence to you, but none of us are exactly famous enough for the media to take interest in our injuries.”

“i think the real question is why coach didn’t tell us that her injury was the reason why she stopped playing,” seonghwa wonders, “it was never really a choice like she made it out to be.”

none of them know the answer. hongjoong slowly closes the laptop, exhaling deeply, “we’ve got a lot of things to clear up tomorrow…and a lot of apologising. i’m going to sleep early. you all should too.”

with that, he gets out of his seat and disappears into his bedroom. hongjoong’s mind is heavy and crowded and he knows he is going to be awake for a while.

nobody sleeps well that night. especially wooyoung.

spring, 2023: playoffs

“what do you mean i can’t compete in the playoffs?”

“you have a fractured ankle, wooyoung. the playoffs are honestly the least of your concerns and if you keep straining yourself like this, it won’t just be the playoffs that you can’t compete in–it’ll be the rest of your life,” coach cho admonishes.

“but this is our first proper championship, coach,” wooyoung begs, “you have to let me play.”

coach cho hates that he has to say no and if he could swap ankles with his player, he would do so in a heartbeat. “this isn’t a choice. you physically cannot play. what are you going to do out there on the ice? crawl?”

“fuck, coach, you don’t understand. it was so hard for us to get to this point. this means everything to me, fuck, please,” wooyoung pleads between heaving breaths.

“i’m sorry, wooyoung,” coach cho apologises, leaving no further room for argument as the other boys divert their gazes to the floor.

hongjoong gently squeezes wooyoung’s shoulder. “the doctor said that your cast can come off in about eight weeks and if it’s looking good, you can gradually join in on any light training when it’s off-season.”

wooyoung does not care because in eight week’s time the playoffs will already be over. he knows he is being unreasonable and that there is no chance he will be able to set foot in an ice rink within the next two months. but his heart and mind are operating separately and the only thing his heart can see is the opportunity of playing in the championships slipping right out of his grasp.

he is already angry at himself for getting injured in the first place but it is not enough to quell wooyoung’s raging inferno. so he does the only thing he can think of in the moment–he spits out his anger with a venomous, “i hate you all.”

it hurts the boys more to see wooyoung hurting and coach cho speaks up on their behalf, “i would rather you hate us now than for you to hate yourself in the future because you traded decades of your career for this one playoff.”

wooyoung jerks his head away defiantly, but they know he is only trying to hide his tears. unable to watch any longer, san moves in closer and pulls the younger into his arms.

“fuck off, san. i don’t need you.”

san swallows the hurt in his chest because he knows there is no truth behind wooyoung’s words. “i know you don’t,” he offers, “but i need you. so just let me stay.”

wooyoung’s body sags as all of the fight slips out of him in the form of shuddering sobs. san embraces him tightly, as if he has picked up all the pieces of the other and only a hug can make him whole again.

“i’m sorry,” wooyoung chokes out.

san shakes his head with reassuring hushes, “don’t be. you focus on recovering and we’ll take it from here.”

like that, wooyoung’s anger is quenched and the team goes on to compete in the playoffs without him. but in the absence of anger comes other emotions, jealousy and insecurity the ugliest of them all. wooyoung despises the bitter taste in his mouth as he sits on the player’s bench outside of the rink each game, only able to helplessly watch his team advance further in the playoffs without him.

and as much as wooyoung wants them to win, he also does not want them to win, because if they can win the championships without him playing as their left wing, then do they really need him at all? he never gets to find out the answer though. they lose in the quarter finals.

wooyoung does not tell anybody about the ill relief he feels…and he vows to take that secret with him to the grave.

winter, present: regular season

the moment you walk into kq’s meeting room, a rehearsed apology for the team on the tip of your tongue, you realise that something is off. not necessarily wrong, per se; just off.

all the boys are sitting around the table as usual, though the overhead projector that is routinely already set up with video footage of their recent games has been put on standby mode. but the thing that unconsciously makes your hackles rise is the expression they all nurse on their faces, strangely familiar yet foreign at the same time. it is familiar in the sense that people have looked at you this way in the past, but it is foreign in the sense that it has never come from the boys before.

“hi, coach,” hongjoong clears his throat awkwardly, opting to look at the wall behind you instead of your eyes as if even he knows this is the first time he has ever addressed you as such. “we had a…talk last night and thought we should probably clear up a few things before we discuss the actual games.”

although you share the same sentiment as they do, hongjoong’s words put you on guard. gingerly, you lower yourself into an empty seat across from him. “i also have a couple of things to say, but you guys start,” you cue.

hongjoong glances at seonghwa beside him, who in turn gives him a miniscule shrug. neither of them know how to bring it up with you as they are afraid of saying the wrong thing. thankfully, mingi steps in, not one to beat around the bush.

“why didn’t you tell us about your injury?” he asks directly.

with mingi’s question, you are suddenly able to place their expression. the boys look at you warily as if you are a wounded animal they are afraid will run away. you loathed the expression years ago when it was from your coach, your teammates and your family–the constant treading on eggshells around you with pitying eyes–and you still loathe it just as much as you do now.

your prickles emerge and your instinctive reaction is to deny it. you have kept your injury a secret up until now for a reason and the unexpected confrontation has all of your sirens blaring to keep it a secret. but then you remember coach cho’s advice–you remember the apology you had mulled over all night–and you force your prickles to retract.

you take a breath. coach cho would not have told them about your injury, so there is only one way the boys could have found out about it. “you read the articles, didn’t you?”

mingi at least has the decency to look sheepish as he admits, “one…but there weren’t any others.”

“i thought as much,” you mumble to yourself, smiling tightly. you choose not to think about how they came across the article. “i wanted them all removed and my agency managed to pull enough connections to sweep the articles under the rug, but i should have known that in this day and age it would be impossible to get rid of any media completely.”

the question remains as to why you have chosen to keep this hidden and also–

“why did you want them removed, though?” hongjoong furrows his brows.

you have faced countless demons in the last six years. the injury itself, the abrupt end to your golden days, and the forced reconciliation with the fact that you will never be able to play again. and yet, the demon that continues to haunt you to this day is the media spotlight that chases after you as if you are a circus animal.

you are unable to look at any of them in the eye as you finally bare yourself open to the boys. “the articles felt belittling and shameful–they still do. they made me feel less as an athlete then and they make me feel less as a coach now. i worked my heart and soul to get to where i was with the skills that i had, but you don’t understand just how crippling it is for all of that to be overshadowed by an injury. it was no longer a celebration of my achievements, simply because nobody cared anymore. it just became a fucking broken record of, ‘how does it feel to have fallen at the peak of your career?’

“then when i became a coach, it didn’t matter how well my team performed or how hard they worked to win the championships. the question became, ‘how does it feel to coach after being forced to retire because of your injury?’ no matter how hard i tried, i just could not escape the hellhole of my injury.”

guilt settles in the pit of mingi’s stomach as it also does for the others. they may not have written the article, but by consuming it and searching for more, they had unknowingly joined the faceless masses of those who had hurt you.

you dig your thumbs into the flesh of your thighs to stop your voice from shaking as you continue, “the media will not care for the achievements that myself or my players accomplish when there is something even better–a sob story. but i do not need that kind of pity. not from athletes, not from other coaches, and most definitely not from strangers silently pitying my life from behind their newspaper or screen when i did not ask for any of it. i made people forget and i kept this all hidden because my career, be it as a coach or a former athlete, does not deserve to be reduced to that kind of shit.”

the raw honesty behind your words strikes the boys silent. what they thought they had started to understand about you, they are now realising was barely the tip of the iceberg. seonghwa wonders for just how long you have left this wound bleeding and untreated. he calls out for you sadly, “coach, you should’ve told us.”

when you look up, you are surprised to find wetness brimming his eyes. you feel the hot rush of emotions build up behind your own eyes but from anger, because why is he upset? what reason does he have to cry when you are the one who has suffered all this time?

your voice is biting when you respond, “and have you look down on me like everybody else? i just said, i do not need your pity–”

“it’s not pity,” a voice interrupts firmly. of all people, you least expected it to come from wooyoung. his tone stays unyielding as he holds your gaze. “we’re athletes too, y/n.”

the way he includes you in the collective–as an athlete–has your glare softening immediately, replaced by the dangerous quivering of your bottom lip while he elaborates, albeit voice gentler now, “we are hurting for you–with you. it is not pity; it is standing by your side in hopes that we can help you up if you ever fall again.”

because it is okay to fall, and you will fall; wooyoung knows that the best.

you tilt your head upwards as you desperately blink back the tears that suddenly threaten to spill. the swell of emotions that had churned in your chest had not been anger but fatigue, you realise. wooyoung’s words give you sudden clarity that you are tired–of suffering alone and in silence. you want help.

“i’m tired of hurting,” you confess quietly.

“then let us share the hurt with you.”

the dam breaks and your tears fall freely down your cheeks. it starts off with a nod so miniscule that the boys think they have imagined it, but then slowly and surely, your head moves up and down with more conviction. “okay,” you whisper.

you had always thought that you had come to terms with your injury and the end of your career, but perhaps you are still mourning your loss…and perhaps that is okay. like looking into a time-warped mirror, wooyoung sees the fight slip out of your body with a sob as you apologise, “i’m sorry.”

san wants to cross the room and wrap his arms around you if it can take away even just a fraction of your hurt. but he knows that he cannot cross the boundaries of professionalism despite the intimate nature of the conversation right now, especially when you and the team are only just starting to patch things up. so instead, he opts to rub his thumb over the knuckles of wooyoung’s hand from under the table, which has slipped into his, hoping that one day he will be able to do the same for you.

“we understand,” hongjoong answers on their behalf, “you were doing what you needed to do in order to protect yourself.”

and if you do not realise that he says those words for himself and his team to hear too, then you will by the end of the conversation as you walk away with a newfound understanding of them.

“no, not just for that,” you shake your head, roughly swiping at your tears with the back of your hand. “it ended up negatively influencing the way i coached you guys, even if it was subconscious. i let my own trauma dictate how i wanted you to play: defensively all the time whether it was needed or not. hongjoong, you were right about me not coaching your team as your team.”

you try your damned hardest to keep your voice steady so that you can look at them properly to apologise, “i’m sorry i made it so hard to trust me as your coach.”

“okay, let me stop you right there,” yunho smiles gently, sliding a tissue box in your direction. “we were pricks too, so half the apology is ours.”

“don’t call her a prick,” seonghwa whispers. his horrified expression relaxes when you break out into a wet chuckle.

hongjoong is glad that you are able to find something to laugh about even with your cheeks still damp and blotchy, and he finds his mouth curling into a bittersweet smile. you have been honest and vulnerable with them and now it is their turn.

“we have something to tell you about our past coach,” he starts, drawing your gaze to him. “not coach cho–our very first coach. we’re not trying to justify that what we did as a result was okay, but…”

“but hopefully i can understand,” you finish when hongjoong hesitates. he nods and you mirror his action with a reassuring smile to encourage him to talk.

but irregardless of what they tell you, you already know that you want to understand them, because understanding is the first step to forgiving, and you want that too.

so with intermittent comments from the other boys, hongjoong reveals to you the hidden wounds they have been nursing. and as they tell you about coach yeon, how their trust in him had been misplaced, how he had betrayed it for money at the expense of their championship, and how they had then let that become mistrust in you and your reason for retiring, wooyoung finds himself quiet so that he can steal glances at you.

he can see it now. the untameable beast within you of passion for ice hockey that has been forcibly chained down to the ground with the weight of the earth. the devastating torment that must incessantly surge through you in the most debilitating waves, tenfold any anguish he felt when he was unable to compete in the playoffs. the blemished canvas of dark and ghastly emotions that you do not let see the light of day, yet continue to coexist in hidden silence.

it is there and then that wooyoung realises you and him may be more similar than he thought–that you may actually understand him better than any of his seven boys.

you stop the drill.

yeosang gracefully turns in an arc whilst keeping the puck close to his stick as hongjoong and seonghwa dig their skates into the ice to brake before their momentum takes out the younger.

“let’s have jongho try using the perimeter of the rink instead of passing to yeosang this time. start the faceoff again,” you instruct.

the chorus of responses that you receive are zealous, even slightly teasing as the boys lower their voices with a, “yes, coach!” and give you small salutes with their gloved hands. you cannot help but snort and shake your head, waving at them to retake their positions.

practice is short today, since your team has a game tomorrow. the first half an hour consisted of running through offensive formations for power plays and you are now focusing on defensive penalty kills. your two captains and wooyoung are playing as the mock opponents, preparing your remaining wings and defenseman for a situation where they are down a player.

hongjoong seems to mull over a thought as he looks at the formation of his boys. “you mentioned the team we’re playing against has a tendency to position their forwards higher up, didn’t you?” he asks and when you nod, he suggests, “what do you think about trying the diamond formation instead? might help close some of their shooting lanes.”

with the captain’s input, you reposition yeosang further up to form the tip of the diamond, and yunho too to cover the right point whilst jongho covers the left. mingi moves in a little closer to the goal to cover the bottom of the diamond and you make sure to point out the importance of his position.

“if the opportunity arises, we can transition into a counterattack instead with 3-1. but we’ll need to make sure we still cover the goal in case they turn it back over again–mingi, this will probably be you. support whoever has the puck from behind, but make sure you don’t go too far forward.”

mingi answers with an affirmative and yeosang passes the puck to hongjoong for him to commence the penalty kill. at your whistle, the rink explodes into action. wooyoung and seonghwa immediately split down the perimeters to open up shooting lanes for their captain, who passes the puck off to wooyoung the moment he has cleared half the rink. with a brief adjustment of the puck’s angle, he attempts a cross-ice pass to where seonghwa is free on the other side.

with astonishing speed, jongho intercepts the puck and yells, “3-1!” he continues to barrel forward with the momentum of his explosive acceleration towards the goal as yeosang anticipates a pass and yunho joins the counterattack rush to his right. the three of your players charge forwards with adrenaline as mingi covers them from behind. jongho chips the puck over hongjoong’s stick, which is immediately taken up by yeosang. without a goaltender, he finishes it off with an easy shot into the net.

the tempo and execution of the rush surprises not just you, but the boys themselves too, who are tapping their sticks together with elated excitement at the success of the play. it may only be a simulated practice drill, but you still share in the same pride and contentment that hongjoong’s face glows at you with.

he cocks his head to the side with a paired smile and you return the same nonverbal acknowledgement. corners of your lips still lifted up, you gather the boys, “let’s have a drink break.”

as the boys make their way over to the benches, removing their gloves and helmets, you eye the water bottles and make sure you have enough–five in the cooler and three on the bench beside it. san bounds up to you after grabbing one from the cooler, bragging, “coach! did you see the way jongho intercepted that puck?”

from beside him, wooyoung reenacts the moment with wild flails of his limbs and airy whooshes from his mouth, jongho watching with bashful giggles. you indulge in their animated recount and listen intently. “he was amazingly fast,” you agree.

yeosang passes an opened bottle to wooyoung before untwisting the lid to his own, commenting, “the ankle weights on top of all the training must be working.”

the boys are not currently wearing any, but you had slowly implemented the use of vests, ankle or wrist weights during specific drills. now that they have taken them off and are playing without the burden of the additional mass, you are all starting to see the gains of their hard work.

you smirk with satisfaction, “of course. if my players are going to bulldoze across the ice, may as well make them fast enough to avoid all the opponents.”

“don’t encourage her,” wooyoung elbows yeosang scandalously. “she’s going to make us wear heavier weights next practice.”

“you don’t get to complain if you don’t even wear the weights,” you quip.

he knows his injury means that he cannot wear the weights in case it places stress on his ankle, so he curses at you with no real heat just for the sake of cursing, “fuck you.”

you wink, “love you too.”

wooyoung shuts his mouth and scrunches the bridge of his nose with faux displeasure, and jongho laughs at his inability to faze you. you glance down and open your notebook to mention, “on that note, though, how do we feel about going up a few hundred grams next week?”

“i’m fine with that,” yeosang says at the same time jongho confirms, “sounds good.” most of the other boys also nod that they are fine with increasing their weights, save for seonghwa who notifies you that he is still adjusting so he will keep his as it is for now.

you jot down ticks and crosses next to their names corresponding to their answers whilst suggesting, “yunho and mingi, you can both probably try half a kilogram since your body masses are higher.”

said boys peer over your shoulder to see what their new weights would be, then yunho makes a noise of intriguement. “coach, did you write these?”

you look to where his finger is pointing to–sticky notes upon sticky notes of unorganised observations and reminders to yourself. starting to feel self-conscious, you deny, “...no,” only for yunho to swipe the notebook from out of your grasp. “hey!”

he holds it up and open above him, voice gleeful as he reads one out, “‘jongho, wooyoung and yeosang prefer water at room temperature when training–take bottles out of cooler!’”

“aw, coach,” wooyoung coos, “did you deliberately leave three bottles in room temperature for us on the bench?”

feeling your ears heat up from being exposed, you swipe at the notebook. your skates give you added height, but so do yunho’s skates, so your attempts to jump for it are futile.

“‘boys want to eat abura soba after their win’,” he continues to read, pausing to let out a dramatic gasp, “are you going to treat us, coach?” his question is met with enthusiasm.

when another wild swipe sends a sharp sting down your shoulder from the movement, reminding you of the pain that had flared up a few days ago, you decide to change tactics. you grab the back and front of his jersey with your hands, completely ready to commit to scaling him like a literal tree. but then a different set of hands easily takes the notebook out of yunho’s and of course it would be mingi. you insult, “give it back, you tall buffoon!”

mingi is hardly fazed as you switch targets to him, your fingertips nowhere near reaching the notebook as he snickers and reads, “‘trial jongho as starting forward–wait.” he lowers his hands with sobriety and you are finally able to snatch the notebook back, shutting it before they can read any more of your sticky notes. it is not like there is anything they cannot know, but it is sort of embarrassing for them to see how much attention you pay to them.

“you want jongho on the starting lineup?” mingi confirms that he has not read it wrong, eyes as wide as all the other boys as they look at you.

jongho is almost certain that you must have meant somebody else, or something else, because there is no way that he would be given the opportunity to start for the team–not when they have yeosang and wooyoung as their wings, and the choice of hongjoong or seonghwa as their centres. he is used to being the player who momentarily relieves others of their shift on the ice, or as his parents so like to remind him, option b.

“why do you all look so surprised?” you frown. beckoning at jongho with your chin, you ask, “you’ve been practising hard to make your right hand just as good as your left hand, haven’t you? so let’s take advantage of your versatility and unpredictability on ice and throw the opponents off. what do you think?”

jongho’s mouth opens and shuts, struggling to formulate an answer through his wide beam other than, “i–of course, if you’d let me–if everyone else is happy.”

the pleased smile on hongjoong’s face is enough to make his cheeks sore and he wraps his arm around the youngest’s shoulders. he praises, “look at you, our wild card and our hidden ace,” as seonghwa declares, “i know he’ll do us so proud.”

both yeosang and wooyoung simultaneously offer their positions in the starting lineup and the rest of the boys watch on with fond expressions. they are grateful that you have recognised the talents and hard work of their youngest. although you are not aware, this opportunity holds significance not just in regards to his career.

you conclude, “we’ve been on a good streak with our games. let’s ride the momentum and show the other teams what jongho is capable of–what we’re all capable of.”

“yes, coach!” they shout, the loud echo of their voices reverberating and filling the rink with buzzing energy for the remainder of the training session.

spirits still high by the time you call it a wrap, you let them change as you grab your own belongings. there is a team meeting in the afternoon so you and the boys will be going back to kq to eat at the cafeteria and use the booked room. you pause when you see wooyoung loitering by your bag. he still has not changed out of his practice clothes.

“i’m not letting you on the bus if you’re planning on staying in those clothes,” you joke.

“i’m going to change!” he scowls indignantly, then avoids eye contact as he thrusts something out in your direction. he mumbles, “had some spares. didn’t want them. just dumping them with you so you can stash them or use them or whatever, i don’t care.”

you grab the small bag, brows creased with confusion, but wooyoung dashes away to change before you can ask what it is. you peer inside and to your pleasant surprise, there are two packs of pain relief patches. your shoulder protests at the lack of attention you have given it in the last few days. the pain is chronic and never really goes away, but it has been bothering you more than usual recently, so it is all in good timing that you now have some patches.

you make a mental note to stick one on when you get to the company and grab your bag after ensuring your notebook is stored inside. as you head towards the change rooms to wait for the boys, you spot a piece of paper on the floor. it looks like rubbish that you must have missed on your way in earlier so you pick it up to throw away. but when your fingertips touch the familiar sheen of the wax-like paper, you realise wooyoung must have dropped it.

it is confirmed when you unfold it to read the text and see that it is from yesterday evening, at the pharmacy that is just across the street from the company; in your hands you hold wooyoung’s receipt for two packs of pain relief patches.

spring marks the start of the playoffs. in synchronisation with the burst of life that blooms with the season, your boys, too, flourish in the league.

the unpredictability of your team’s strategies that entail a mix of both yours and hongjoong’s prowess helps to secure wins over the remainder of the regular season. despite the unsteady start to the season, it allows your team to scrape into the round of sixteen near the bottom of the standings.

the red devils are seeded against the team that is third in the rankings, and then against the sixth-standing team in the quarterfinals. in upsets that knock out two of the most anticipated teams in the league, your boys advance into the semifinals, their reputation as the demons of the ice rink that had laid low now rapidly spreading.

where none of the other competitors had paid you and your players any mind before, barely even noticing your presence, the opponents now glance and watch your team walk past with an air of confidence through the arena. their tense jaws and hard gazes size up your athletes–formidable rivals who have suddenly barrelled up the ranks from out of nowhere and now pose perhaps the biggest threat as a team that has somehow slipped under their radars.

you know; your team may be small in numbers. but with yunho and mingi flanking the sides of the boys, and even with hongjoong’s charismatic aura alone leading the front, which extends around him like a dark cloud of terror and envelops the rest of the group too, your team is a pack of predators at the tip of the apex.

other players part to make a path for your boys, whose heads are held high and eyes are set only on their captain and you, their coach, as you all walk to your assigned changeroom. the nerves have long dissipated because the ice rink is your territory and the other teams are your prey.

the moment you shut the door behind the last of them into the room though, the icy stare in wooyoung’s eyes melt and he exclaims, “holy shit, did you see the way everybody was looking at us? we must have looked so fucking hot, i wish i could ask for my own signature.”

from their glowing faces alone, you can tell that they are all basking in the feeling of finally being recognised and reckoned with. yunho bats his eyelids and pinches his voice higher into a falsetto, “oh wooyoung! you’re so handsome and cool, could i please have your signature?”

mingi imitates him and pounces on wooyoung, begging for a photo together as he clings onto his elbow. it sets off the rest of the boys to crowd around like mock fans with faux exhilaration. you snort at their antics, leaving wooyoung to sign imaginary sheets of paper with his imaginary pen in favour of ensuring all of their backup equipment and gear is correctly located outside or in the storage area.

you allow the boys adequate time to change into their full gear for their warm-up prior to the actual semifinal game before you walk back into the locker room. your ears perk up when you catch the end of san’s question, “that’s good for us, isn’t it?”

“what is?” you ask out of curiosity, flipping open the provided cooler and adding several sports drinks into the ice.

“i overheard someone on the white tigers team say that their head coach happened to fall sick, so they have their assistant coach today,” jongho mentions.

the surge of brazen smiles and reassured glints in their eyes at the reveal of information makes you falter to a degree. you lightly chastise, “don’t let that get to your heads and start being cocky–play as you usually do and do not underestimate them just because their head coach is off.”

you pull your notebook out of your bag, the familiar cover and weight of the book providing you with a sense of security as you remind the boys, “the white tigers have a very similar playing style as us. we may have worked hard on our defensive strategies, but with similar strengths and weaknesses overall, it won’t hurt for us to still be cautious.”

“yes, coach,” they chorus.

hongjoong nods, “let’s go warm up, then finalise our starting lineup for the game.”

your team’s allocated time on the rink passes by quickly and it is followed by the last adjustments to the discussed strategies and game plan, thorough checks of their gear, and the remaining boys who are still wearing their practice jerseys change out of the blue into their red game uniform. in full gear, there your boys stand, presence intimidating and demoniac. the boys do not live up to their team name; their team name lives up to them.

they stride through the hallway for their semifinal game against the white tigers. right at the end before it leads to the ice rink, yunho yells, “pep talk, captain!”

hongjoong groans, rolling his eyes, but places the blade of his stick onto the rubber flooring nonetheless. the rest of the boys huddle around, their sticks meeting in the centre of the circle and standing close together so that their helmets and shoulders knock against one another. you are also swept into the circle with yeosang and san by your sides.

“boys…and girl,” hongjoong snickers to himself before recollecting his very inspirational train of thought, “we’ve fought hard to make it this far–this is the first time we’ve made it into the semis, so let’s keep running until the very end, yeah?”

to the team’s increasingly loud cheers, hongjoong yells, “let’s fuck it up out there!”

their sticks hit the ground in unison and despite the muted sound of the cushioned flooring, their shouts of fighting resolve and unwavering determination drown out everything else. together, you emerge from the hallway and your starting players take their positions on the ice, ready to fuck it up.

only, it happens literally.

the moment the puck hits the ice and the white tigers’ centre forward, byun, wrestles it away with his blade, hongjoong immediately knows it is going to be one of those games. the ones where his competitive grit is fueling his mind ablaze but his body is leaden-footed as if he is wading through quicksand; where his body is just unable to keep up and move the way he wants it to. it is one of those days where his condition is just inexplicably off and there is nothing he can do about it except hope that his years of training and sheer aptitude for the sport will be enough.

“fuck,” you curse under your breath at hongjoong’s slip as jongho and yeosang rush to fall back and support those in defence. “he wasn’t like that during the warm-ups.”

byun is not only agile and swift, but is almost an identical reflection of hongjoong’s own bold and assertive offence. the centre forward powers through with evasive turns around yunho’s attempt to body check him, unafraid and confident. passing the blue line into your team’s defensive zone, byun flicks the puck at the goal.

the point shot is an unexceptional attempt to score, nothing that san’s reflexive goaltending cannot take care of. he extends his left foot and blocks the low shot with his leg pad, where the puck then slides in yunho’s direction. you did not doubt for a moment that san would not be able to save the shot, but it is still a close call that is far too early in the game to be a good sign.

your team’s greatest strength is their unspoken synergy and seamless unity, but it is also their greatest weakness. when one player stumbles, particularly when it is their captain–the very roots of the team–their bond runs so deeply that it throws their teamwork out of harmony and ultimately impacts the entire team.

with san’s save, yunho regains possession and handles the puck around the back of their net to shake off the pressure that the white tigers’ forwards are placing on him, as well as to buy his own team some time to reassemble in their formation.

you know that this is not going to work for long; you have to change the momentum of the game, and fast. “seonghwa, get ready,” you alert. “you’re going on for hongjoong.”

the alternate captain stands, alarmed at the unexpected line change so early into the game. he grips his stick with white knuckles and watches his team as he waits for your cue. yunho hits the puck against the boards where yeosang successfully receives the rebound.

“breakout!” yeosang yells and rushes forward with the chasing skates of the opponents nipping at his heels. jongho clears the centre line into the offensive zone at the same time hongjoong screens and blocks the view of the white tigers’ goaltender, setting up for an opportunity to score.

when the opponent’s left defence and wing advance on yeosang rapidly, he fakes a deceptive pass towards the boards before twisting the blade of his stick and flicking the puck between their skates instead in hongjoong’s direction. but like an eagle honing in on a small rodent, byun swoops in to snatch the puck, flipping the possession again.

the tides turn and all the athletes on the rink race towards your team’s net, a cutthroat competition between triumph and desperation to chase the puck. byun passes to the player on his left as they both dash closer, the left forward immediately returning the puck the moment he receives it to break past mingi’s defence.

you are able to see the white tigers’ right wing following closely behind ready for a drop pass, but in your team’s frenzied minds, they are unable to read the play. yunho approaches byun, who is expecting the defence and leaves the puck behind whilst skating on, knowing that it will be received by his trailing teammate. with the momentary confusion that is enough to disrupt both yunho and san’s gaze on the puck, the opponent’s right wing winds his stick back just enough to build power without sacrificing speed, then slaps the puck into the corner of the goal–

–and scores. within the first three minutes of the game.

“seonghwa,” you call out again with urgency as the whistle blows. you turn to look at him, “you’re up. you have to break the flow of the team. not just the white tigers, but ours too–the boys are panicking and you need to help anchor them.”

he nods, steadying his hand on the board in preparation to hop over it, and you yell out for the captain, “change!”

hongjoong sees the gesture of your hand pointing at the bench, and although his chest tightens with frustration at himself, he speeds towards the edge of the rink to change. once the captain is close enough, seonghwa pushes his skate off the benches to launch himself over the top of the boards onto the ice then propels himself forward to take the centre faceoff.

the captain sits down heavily on the bench, defeat already broiling off of his slumped body in smothering swells. you really cannot afford to take your eyes off the game; it waits for nobody and the whistle has already blown, the rink erupting into commotion. but whilst you need to watch the game unfold, you need hongjoong just as much, and his team needs him.

you turn him slightly to face you so that he can see your face of resolution. “you are the captain, so be the captain–for the team…and for yourself,” you invigorate, voice raised so that he can hear you over the noise of the stadium.

you give his shoulder a hard squeeze, certain he will not be able to even feel it from under the pads of his uniform. regardless, he understands your intentions and nods grimly, the fog in his eyes clearing. wooyoung taps the back of his helmet in a show of encouragement and hongjoong returns the gesture with appreciation.

a particularly loud thump draws the attention of all three of you back to the game. from the grimace on yeosang’s face and his hand steadying himself on the boards, it is obvious he has just been body checked into the wall. seonghwa pursues the puck with graceful yet powerful speed before he digs both skates perpendicular into the ice to suddenly change direction. pushing off, he accelerates back towards the white tigers’ defensive zone when mingi manages to disrupt the opponent’s stickhandling enough for yunho to sweep the puck and skate it up the perimeter of the rink away from their net.

wooyoung also goes on for yeosang but as the left wing, so jongho switches position to play as the right forward. he skates past the benches when an opportunity arises and he hands off his stick whilst grabbing his right-handed stick from you with practised ease.

with the line change of forwards and with seonghwa on as your centre, your team stabilises to an extent. the red devils are no longer being pushed back but they are also unable to push forward. the game is at a stalemate, although the tides remain in favour of the white tigers with both their positional and psychological advantage of the first goal.

you can see the pressure weighing down on your boys; passes that yunho and mingi would be capable of executing blindfolded are miscalculated; predictable manoeuvres still mislead wooyoung in the wrong direction; seonghwa and jongho fail to notice the opportunities for clear passing and shooting lanes; and the openings appear far too wide and innumerable for san to cover the goal from. the relentless offensive pressure that the white tigers places on your team, strikingly similar to how the boys played when you first started coaching them, does not give any breathing room either.

so that is how the first period comes to an end–losing zero to one with none of your players performing at their best condition. their steps are heavy and burdened as they walk back to the locker room for the intermission, helmets removed the moment they come off the ice to reveal hardened expressions. in the privacy of your assigned room, most of the boys adjust the pads in their gear and yunho peels off his shin guards to let them air out.

you pass around their iced bottles and as exhausted as they are, they make sure to voice their gratitude. san grabs wooyoung’s bottle for him, since the younger is bent over loosening the laces of his left skate. “here,” san murmurs, twisting open the cap and passing it to wooyoung once he straightens his back.

similarly, seonghwa hands over an opened bottle to yeosang before taking a swig of his own. “you’re okay?” he checks, the particularly rough body check that yeosang had copped earlier in the game still at the forefront of his mind.

yeosang gives the alternate captain a reassuring smile, “i’m okay.”

appeased by the answer, seonghwa turns to look at hongjoong, who is re-taping the blade of his stick. “what about you?” seonghwa softly asks, “you’re feeling okay?”

hongjoong glances up briefly at the back of your figure. you are busy shifting the red magnets around on the whiteboard and erasing the markings you had made prior to the start of the semifinals. when you turn around to gather their attention, you accidentally make eye contact with him and break out into a small smile.

“yeah,” hongjoong replies, “i’m feeling okay.”

“alright, listen up boys, that was just the first period. we’re not even halfway into this game and we’ve started to even up the playing field now that we’ve found our footing,” you encourage. “we just have to make sure we keep our heads cool and read their plays instead of simply reacting to their movements.”

you look at each of them as you direct, “their centre forward, byun, has been on for almost all of first period, so there’s probably going to be a shift change, if not a complete line change of forwards. they have the leniency to swap out their top players since they’re in the lead, which means if we want to break their momentum, we need to break it then.”

shifting yourself slightly out of the way, the boys are able to see the new arrangement of positions you have marked out on the whiteboard. “we’re starting the second period by sharpening our offence in the 2-2-1 formation,” you explain. you beckon your head at the captain, “hongjoong, you’re back on. you and wooyoung are to position yourselves up high between the neutral and offensive zones–try to screen their goaltender when our boys have possession. yunho, i want you to move up to our blue line with jongho and open up as many passing lanes as you two can. mingi will stay in defence and help cover the goal with san in case the white tigers makes a counterattack.

“use this opportunity to make as many scoring chances as you can. if there isn’t a clear shot but there’s a chance it can be continued on by another one of us, then go for it anyway–any sort of pressure we can put on their team is better than none.”

your forwards nod with understanding, so you continue to the most important point, “but the moment byun and the wings–kim and song, i think they are–come back on, we’re reversing the formation.” you reposition half of the magnets into a 1-2-2 formation. “only hongjoong will stay up high; wooyoung will fall back and join jongho in the neutral zone; put pressure on their forwards from there. yunho and mingi, you’ll play left and right defence as usual.”

san listens intently when you start moving the black magnets that represent the opposing players and call out to him directly. you warn, “san, be careful of their drop passes. kim and song have been skating forward but leaving the puck behind for byun to score multiple times throughout the first period. they have you primed to predict it now, so they’re probably going to change their tactic and pass directly in front of the goal instead.”

“yes, coach,” san acknowledges.

a glance at the screen on the wall of the locker room tells you that there are only a few minutes left of the intermission. “gear up and get ready to go back on,” you instruct the boys.

they make final adjustments to their pads and yunho tapes his shin guards back into place under his socks. you make sure they all have their helmets and sticks when they start to file out of the locker room once they are ready and you grab wooyoung’s gloves for him while he ties the laces of his skates again.

“thanks,” he reaches out for them as he stands up. except he stumbles slightly when he puts weight on his left ankle and your hand instinctively grabs his to steady him.

your eyes grow wide with concern. you know that wooyoung is the type to keep quiet about his pain, even if you ask, “does your ankle hurt?”

“no, my legs just fell asleep on me from sitting,” he reassures, conscious of your hand that still holds his. he smiles through his lie and hopes that you are unable to pick up on it. the buzzer sounds before you can, though, warning you both that there is only one minute remaining until the game resumes.

hurriedly you tell him, “let me know if you need to come off.”

somebody yells out your names, forcing you both to rush off to join the rest of the team in the hallway. wooyoung knows that he should admit to you right there and then that his ankle does hurt, but he will not–he cannot…because he owes it to his team.

they do not know and they will never know, but there is not a day that goes past where wooyoung does not feel guilty for having desired for their loss last year. he has to play and win this championship for his team because only then can he start to forgive himself. but until he wins, he deserves to suffer.

those in the lineup rapidly glide across the ice to take their positions, wooyoung included. a short buzzer sounds, the puck is dropped, and the second period starts. immediately you can see that your boys have the advantage. the white tigers had not expected you to take such an aggressive approach of offence considering that you are losing.

and sure enough, just as you had predicted, their coach has changed their entire line of forwards. the players are still undeniably skilled, but they visibly struggle to match the pace at which hongjoong and wooyoung are now leading your team to attack.

the rink is under the boys’ control; the neutral zone has become a stronghold with the resistance of both jongho and yunho’s combined strength and mingi’s reinforcement from behind. wooyoung weaves through the players with polished agility as he creates passing opportunities around the offensive zone, whilst hongjoong makes his own path with imposing might, his devilish wings spread. and even if the white tigers somehow manage to gain possession of the puck and break past your defence, san looks impossibly larger than the goal itself, leaving no openings for their forwards to score.

it is well into the second period when the perfect play sets itself up. with mingi blocking any possible rebounds off the boards, yunho’s attempt to body check the white tigers’ right wing forces the player to pass the puck across the ice. before their centre forward is able to receive it, jongho has already intercepted and is thundering ahead with his stick controlling the puck.

“high!” he shouts, ploughing through the neutral zone as wooyoung and hongjoong immediately respond to his call and skate up towards the goal.

jongho deliberately looks at his captain but flicks the puck with a forehand pass in the other direction, too fast for the defenders to react to. wooyoung easily receives the anticipated pass, thighs burning and his left ankle stinging as he rushes towards the goal from the left with powerful acceleration. the white tigers’ goaltender immediately lowers his stance and raises his arms in preparation to block his shot.

in the corner of his eye, wooyoung sees hongjoong matching his lightning pace on his right, the captain’s eyes narrowed with concentration and body weight tilted forward as he hurtles past the defenders. wooyoung pretends to wind up his stick for a slap shot into the net, only to twist the angle of his arms at the last second to send the puck skittering across the ice directly parallel to the goal. the goaltender drops down to his knees, having anticipated a scoring attempt, except the puck is now nearing hongjoong.

hongjoong sees it clearly–the trajectory that the puck is taking and the perfect point where it needs to meet his stick. without breaking its momentum, his arms contract to swing his stick and the blade collides with the puck with forceful precision, sending it hurtling through the air. the goaltender desperately scrabbles back onto his skates to defend the other side of the goal, but it is too late.

the puck flies past the posts and hits the netting.

the horn blares and echoing cheers erupt throughout the stadium as the lights flick on to shine across the net and your forward players. hongjoong yells with fierce triumph, stick raised into the air as wooyoung excitedly collides into him. the duo disappear amongst the bodies of your boys as they swarm around them feverish exuberance.

“that’s our fucking captain–” “–woo’s assist was insane!”

hongjoong cannot even tell who is who as he is jostled around in overjoyed laughter and beaming smiles, numerous hands reaching out to tap his and wooyoung’s helmets and shoulders. from outside the rink, you, seonghwa and yeosang have long stopped sitting on the benches, bodies too strung tight with hopeful tension to stay seated, so you are immediately swept up into a hug as the three of you celebrate the goal with identical exhilaration.

the game is still far from over but the morale has just skyrocketed through the roof as if the red devils have scored the winning goal. combined with the team’s fans electrifying the atmosphere of the stadium, it definitely feels like it, and you are starting to see hope that the ones advancing to the finals after today will be your boys.

“line change!” you faintly hear, so you still to watch all three of the white tigers’ forwards skate towards the boards. byun, kim and song jump onto the rink, back on offence in the wake of your goal.

hongjoong makes eye contact with you when you search for him amongst the team huddle and in unison, you both nod, pride and determination unspoken in your gazes–the real game is about to start now. the boys start to disperse and take up their positions around the marked circle for the centre faceoff, and hongjoong and byun meet head-to-head once again in the middle of the rink.

the white tigers’ centre forward smirks condescendingly, “cute goal.”

hongjoong’s face thunders over but he will not let himself resort to dirty sportsmanship. he bites his tongue and lowers his stance, focusing his attention on the game instead.

“ready,” the referee signals, then the puck is released.

byun manages to steal it and sends it backwards to his defensemen to open up more passing lanes, but as discussed, your boys mutually move into the 1-2-2 formation to fortify against their offensive plays. despite the pressure of the white tigers’ top forwards back in play, your team is riding on the momentum of your goal; although you had been treading to keep your heads above the water during the first period, there is now an air of confidence that permeates the ambience of the rink in favour of your boys.

an angled pass from their defence rebounds off the boards and kim receives it high in the neutral zone. he attempts an immediate pass across the ice to song, except the safety net of your player’s defensive formation allows mingi to thrust out with his stick to intercept the pass. he signals, “breakout!” before deflecting it to wooyoung.

the turnover of possession immediately triggers a switch in defence to offence as wooyoung handles the puck back the other way. his wrists twist the stick with measured coordination, controlling the blade and puck as an extension of his own hands while approaching the offensive zone. wooyoung sees the white tigers’ defensemen racing towards him so he abruptly pivots towards the left to drag the black disc around their extended sticks.

suddenly, a sharp pain engulfs his ankle that has his legs crumbling as he staggers off balance. wooyoung manages to stay upright, using his stick to steady himself, but the momentary stumble is more than enough of an opening for byun to steal possession from behind him.

the rival centre forward swerves around jongho then stays close to the perimeter to avoid mingi’s resistant defence. behind mingi, san splays his legs out as he prepares to block the left side of the goal, but byun continues blazing on and wraps around the back of the net. san follows his movement and swiftly shifts over to the right instead while byun cradles the puck with his blade to lift it into the air the moment he approaches.

yunho cannot risk a penalty by raising his own stick to block its trajectory, so he shifts his body in hopes of deflecting the shot before it reaches san. but byun’s wrists snap and tuck the airborne puck at a sharp angle right past the red goalpost…and the horn blows to mark the scoring of a goal.

your jaw plummets at the same time that your heart does. not even your lungs work, your body frozen stock-still. once more, the white tigers are back in the lead only mere minutes after the score had been painstakingly tied by your team.

“fuck!” wooyoung curses and slams his gloved fist against the ice, having dropped to his knees in enraged denial.

seonghwa looks on with despondence from beside you as hongjoong drags wooyoung back up to his feet. the captain’s jaws are clenched in frustration but only because of the score itself–never because of his boys. when mingi and yunho try to comfort san with firm squeezes and uttered reassurances, he can only return a tight smile, all three of their breaths heavy and irregular from exertion and dismay.

for the boys to have climbed so arduously and persistently to even the scores, only to be knocked off and their momentum obliterated so mercilessly soon, it is even more demoralising than the white tigers’ first goal. after all, the higher the climb, the harder the fall.

through the deep ache in your heart, you mutedly say to yeosang, “go on for wooyoung, and tell jongho to change sticks and play as left wing.”

“yes, coach,” he replies, voice delicate. yeosang waits as you gesture for wooyoung to come off before he hops over the boards and skates in jongho’s direction.

“woo,” you murmur as your left wing makes his way back to the benches, but he avoids your gaze and keeps his head down. you bite your lips and decide not to push it for now. instead, you press an opened bottle into his gloved hand.

wooyoung is thankful that the bottle is half empty, because his hand unconsciously clenches around it with quivering shame and he would have spilled the water were it full. he makes no move to bring the bottle up to his lips; he doubts the water would go down his constricted throat anyway. the penetrative guilt of his tears hurts immeasurably more than the piercing throb of his ankle because he may have just cost his team the win…again.

even when the buzzer signals the end of the second period, wooyoung dares not to look up. the score is one to two and it is his fault. the intermission passes by in a haze of dissociation, his body robotically moving on autopilot into the locker room and back to the ice rink. wooyoung does not even know whether there are line changes to the positions or whether the game strategy has been altered.

but it does not matter because it does not concern him–as if any coach would put him on after his grave mistake. what wooyoung fails to notice though is the glances of worry in his direction, and they do not come solely from his boys.

the stakes run at their highest in the third and final period. tension suffocates the entire stadium, invisible hands that snake around your throats with a hangman’s loose and make you break out into cold sweats. all the players on the ice rink put everything that they have on the line because by the end of the next twenty minutes, only one team will be advancing to the finals.

from the moment the puck is dropped into play and the timer resumes, the rink is a torrential battlefield of contesting skates and grappling sticks. dramatic passes and unforeseen interceptions lead to rapid turnovers that force both teams to hastily switch back and forth between offence and defence.

but everyone learns of the juxtapositions of the world early on in life. there is no light without dark, there is no happiness without sadness, there is no spring without autumn…and there is no victory without defeat. for every scoring attempt that the red devils make, the white tigers make three, steadily and gradually pushing your boys back in the final stretch of the game. and while most of your forwards’ goals are blocked in the nick of time, most of theirs are not.

as a last resort in the face of the crisis, you calculate the risks then add seonghwa onto the field. “yunho, change!” you yell, pulling him off defence.

“behind you,” byun alerts song as seonghwa powers across the ice right into the cutthroat action, before cursing when the white tigers nearly lose possession of the puck.

your two captains unrelentingly pursue the black disc at the forefront of your team, their complementary synergy and unity a whirlwind of prowess to be reckoned with as they try not to let the burden of scoring weigh them down. despite the overwhelming pressure as the team’s last line of defence, even more so now that you have sacrificed stability to capitalise on having two centre forwards, san’s cat-like eyes do not cloud over, only intensely scanning the field and the opponent’s plays.

you glance at the clock. there are only two minutes left and even the combined efforts of your forwards is not working. you never thought that you would ever have to do this as a coach, but now you are afraid there is no choice. “yunho,” you urge.

his head turns to you and you see the ashen pallor of your own face reflected on his as the very probable outcome of the game dawns across your minds. you make your decision. “you’re going back on. for san.”

yunho’s eyes widen. “for san? i can’t play as goaltender–”

“no,” you shake your head, “we’re playing without a goaltender.”

sixty seconds.

save for wooyoung, all of your defenders, wings and centre forwards make a last-minute spurt to attack, not letting their bodies recover for even a split second as they strain their burning legs and gasping lungs.

thirty seconds.

they desperately break past the physical boundaries of their own stamina into their last reserves of pure grit and will, draining every last drop that their mental resilience has to offer.

ten seconds.

they do not give up. they try again and again to score. but against all of your prayers, all of your tears and sweat and against all of your hopes, the gap does not close. the final buzzer blares throughout the entire stadium, marking the red devil’s loss.

two to six.

your players stand motionless, ghosts of denial and despair amongst the crazed jumps and bounds of celebration as the white tigers flock across the rink towards one another. hongjoong tilts his head upwards to stop the rush of tears from falling down his face, both yunho and seonghwa mirrors of his pain as sweat and tears drip down in salty trails. san grasps the edge of the board in front of him, his head hung low and shoulders quaking from how hard he tries to stifle his sobs so that wooyoung does not hear him.

not one of your boys are able to accept the results of the match. not even you can bring yourself to utter a single word of consolation, be it for yourself or for them. and as you watch the wretched image of your heartbroken boys, choking back tears of your own that you are unaware still manage to escape the corners of your eyes, the only sounds in your ears their stricken cries, you are reminded that the path of an athlete and coach is nothing like its portrayal in movies and stories; where hard work triumphs and leads to sure success.

the harsh reality is that there is no dramatic comeback. there is no underdog victory. there is no miracle and there is no final to advance to. you and your boys lose by triple the amount of your own goals and just like that, the journey has come to an end at the semifinals.

it is an anticlimactic defeat, the gap so far that your team could not even see the light at the end of the tunnel. and somehow…that feels far worse than losing by just a marginal difference.

the locker room is mostly quiet, the silence punctuated only by the closing of zippers and rustling of canvas as the boys who have finished showering and changing pack the rest of their gear for the final time. there are no more intermittent sniffles, leaving behind a miserable hush of emptiness instead. even the dying flicker of the light in the far corner of the ceiling thrums with more energy than the boys combined.

you sit on one of the benches and absentmindedly thumb through your notebook. seonghwa sits to your right, his kit bag already long organised and tidied to preoccupy his mind. the warmth from the close proximity of your thighs and elbows is a gracious comfort to the both of you. it no longer makes your backs straighten with uptightness, conscious of the boundaries between coach and athlete–not after your hearts and bodies melded together in hugs of solace after the final buzzer of the semifinals and melted away those lines.

seonghwa places his hand soothingly on your knee and murmurs, “stop looking at that. we’ll think about it later all together.”

none of the words or diagrams had been registering in your head, but you nod and close your notebook anyway. he probably does not want to see it either. you rest your head back against the wall behind you with a small exhale, blankly watching your team instead until your eyes travel around the room.

you count, then count again, before calling out, “captain, is wooyoung still showering?”

hongjoong cranes his neck around at the same time that everybody else does as well. “don’t think so,” he frowns, “i’m pretty sure he was one of the first ones out.”

wooyoung’s kit bag is still unpacked in his locker, so he is definitely not already waiting for the bus outside. before his absence can raise any alarms–the last thing the boys need on their plate right now–you stand and announce, “i’ll go find him. he probably just lost track of time.”

“do you need me to come with you?” yeosang rises to his feet.

you shake your head and reassure, “keep packing your bag.” then you turn to make your way out of the locker room when somebody calls out for you.

“coach, wait.”

it’s san, who skitters in front of you to press something into your hands. “give this to him when you see him?”

the item crinkles and a glance downwards reveals that it is an instant ice pack. you smile softly, stuffing it into the pocket of your jacket and hoping that nobody notices the ice pack that is already in there. “of course,” you gently touch his forearm. “i’ll be back.”

this time you make it out to the corridor but you do not get further than four steps before another voice stops you.

“coach!”

when you turn around, hongjoong emerges from the doorway. he slows down as he catches up to stand in front of you. “i…” his voice falters. “i’m sorry.”

i’m sorry i didn’t realise wooyoung was gone. i’m sorry i didn’t do my job as captain…and i’m sorry for losing.

“no,” you shake your head. “don’t be.” because you tried your best…and you did not give up. beckoning in the direction of the locker room, you tell him, “take care of the boys, okay? i’ll be back with wooyoung.”

the rigidity in hongjoong’s shoulders dissipates. “thank you…y/n.”

you smile, “anytime, hongjoong.” you wait for him to walk back inside before you finally turn to find wooyoung.

the arena is massive but apart from the locker room–which you already know wooyoung is not in–there are limited places that offer privacy from the multitude of people who mill around, be it other athletes, staff or spectators. you know from personal experience, so you head to the one place that is usually guaranteed to be somewhat out of the public eye.

“oh, fuck me,” wooyoung startles when you sit yourself down heavily on the same step as him, his curse echoing around the both of you. “how the fuck did you know i would be here?”

you snort, bumping his shoulder with yours. “i hate to burst your bubble, but this isn’t exactly an original experience. i’m pretty sure every athlete has hidden here to cry at one point in their career.”

the slight spark of light that had ignited within wooyoung at your appearance suddenly flickers out, reminded of why exactly he is hiding in the emergency stairwell in the first place. shame tears his eyes away from you, unable to meet your gaze any longer.

“i want to be left alone,” he murmurs.

although you respect his request, that is the opposite of what he needs. left to his own thoughts and devices, you know that wooyoung will spiral dangerously in guilt and self-reproach, even if the red devil’s loss is not his fault–is not anybody’s fault.

the two of you sit in silence, wooyoung intermittently swiping at a lone tear that threatens to drip off his chin, and you mulling over the words that you hold close to your heart. eventually, you break the quietude with a soft chuckle.

“the first game i ever played i was actually on left defence. our team was losing by two goals and i suddenly had the puck. i still remember seeing an opening in the goal and feeling the surge of confidence that i did when i hit the puck…but you know what?”

wooyoung does not answer, does not look up from where he is picking at his cuticles, but you can feel his curiosity so you continue, “it was an own goal. i scored into my own team’s net and it wasn’t until i scored another goal before i finally realised which way i was meant to go. obviously, my team wasn’t very happy with me, but then i ended up winning the game for them anyway and that’s how i started playing as centre forward.

“there was also a time during internationals where i argued against the ref’s call and got myself put into the penalty box. it cost our team a goal–the tiebreaker, too. i learnt my lesson and never did that again. and then there was the first couple of years i started to coached. i thought i had enough experience as a player to be a perfect coach. it wasn’t until one of my teams told me to pull my head out of my ass that i realised i was anything but.”

that gets a small snicker from out of him. you deliberate, “i’d like to think that we make the best team now, though.”

he scowls disgruntledly, “we’re your only team.”

“and my favourite team, too,” you laugh softly, gauging his expression. “my point is, wooyoung, we all make mistakes. but the reason why we make them in the first place is because we love playing. we do what our heart wants to in the moment and we play for ourselves because otherwise, there would be nothing left of us without ice hockey. what matters is that we stand up again and learn from the experience.”

wooyoung feels the weight of your words settling heavily in his chest because they are only half true to him. his passion and love for the sport indeed burns eternally as a blazing inferno inside of him, but his persistence to play today was due to ulterior motives. to acknowledge that aloud is a different story, though.

your voice takes on a lighter tone, “although i guess in this case, you should be sitting down with that ankle of yours. you know you should not be gambling with your injuries.”

he finally looks at you; a former athlete who did not even have the luxury to gamble your injury. it suddenly scares him to imagine just an ounce of the conflicting anguish that must course through you at his continuous decisions to endanger his own career–the anguish that you have made sure to never show, lest it affect them.

“do you ever feel angry?” wooyoung abruptly asks, voice laced with hesitation.

it is your turn to look away. you know that the question is not directed at himself but your entire career. with a bittersweet chuckle, you allow yourself to admit, “every day. i still get angry and i still get upset. i wake up in the morning wondering why it had to be me and i go to bed at night wondering why i didn’t deserve a second chance.

“but i’m okay; it gets easier to be okay. coaching means that i still get to go on the ice, i still get to experience the adrenaline of games and i still get to play through you guys. and most of all…i still have a team. i don’t know if i will ever stop feeling angry, but it’s better than it used to be.”

at your admission, wooyoung is reminded of how you are possibly the only one who would be able to truly understand him. he musters his courage and confesses, “i wanted us to lose last year…and we did end up losing.”

it catches you off guard, the direction of the conversation not what you had expected, but you neutralise your expression and tone so as to not make him feel defensive. “how come?”

he swallows. “my ankle–i fractured it last year just before we made it into the playoffs, so i wasn’t able to compete. i had been so angry at first; angry at myself for getting injured, angry at my coach for not letting me play, angry at my team because they could play. then when it became clear that i wasn’t going to be able to compete regardless of how angry i was, i became jealous, insecure and…afraid. jongho and i share the same position, and i mean, look at him now–he’s able to play both left and right wing. if they had won the playoffs without me, then would the team really need me?

“they did end up losing, just like i had wanted them to, but that made me feel so much worse–made me realise just how terrible i am of a person. the guilt eats me alive every single day and i tell myself that i will make it up to them this time, that i will risk everything to win for them…” wooyoung scoffs pathetically at himself, “only for me to fuck things up because of my fucking ankle again.”

you get it. the slow gnawing of yourself from the endless feelings that you ‘should not have’ until you become no more than an empty husk. ever since your own injury, you have spent nights on end trying to reconcile with your emotions in your own confusing and formidable journey, but for the first time ever, you are grateful that you did–because you can keep wooyoung company on his.

you carefully voice, “i think it was okay for you to have felt the way that you did. they’re your feelings and nobody can invalidate them nor your experience. what i came to realise was that all of those ‘ugly’ feelings do not make us ugly for having them–they simply make us human. it is only a problem when those feelings end up hurting other people, but i think the person you hurt the most…was yourself, wooyoung.”

at your words, he looks at you with wide eyes, a fresh swell of wetness gathering in them. wooyoung is kind and loving to everybody, yet has never once thought about deserving that kindness and love for himself. you smile gently, trying to hide the slight quiver in your own lips as your heart clenches with a desire to be loved in his stead.

“you know, woo, i’ve watched basically all of your past games including the quarterfinals from last year. but if i were to compare it to today’s game, it was as if two completely different teams were playing. your team was alive today–a truly united team where every member is the driving force behind each other’s passion for the game. i am pretty confident when i say that a huge part of it was because you were playing with them–because the team was finally whole again.

“yes, the trophy and the championship title is coveted but it is not what truly matters to them and neither to you. it wasn’t the actual win itself that you wanted today, but being able to win for them. and if your boys were to pick between winning without you and losing with you, i’m pretty sure you know better than i do what their immediate choice would be.”

should the other boys be here right now, they would instantly berate your ears off for even suggesting the first option. the thought flickers through wooyoung’s mind too and the corners of his lips tug upwards slightly.

still, he apprehensively confirms, “...no one is angry at me?”

“no,” you reply, voice soft, “not at all. but we are worried.”

you are reminded of the weight in the pocket of your jacket. pulling it out, you present the ice pack to wooyoung. “look, san told me to give this to you.”

his fingertips brush against your palm when he reaches out, hand hovering over the ice pack as if he does not dare to touch it. “san did?” he whispers.

when you nod, the final confirmation that he needs that nobody–you included–harbours ill feelings for him and his actions, he allows himself to take the ice pack. allows himself to love himself.

“you need to take care of your body,” you fondly chastise, lightening the atmosphere. “did coach cho not drill into you that as an athlete, your body is your most valuable asset? if you thought he was bad, he’s going to seem like an angel when i’m through with you. you won’t just be banned from playing, i’ll tie you to the bed to make sure you don’t walk on that ankle.”

wooyoung laughs through the few tears that are left, mood lifted enough to suggestively lift his eyebrows and quip, “kinky.” his laughter grows when you punch his arm in response.

no longer does he have to carry this burden alone because you are there for him now. but you know that you are not the only one who can be there for wooyoung. the dynamic between the boys runs past mere teammates and from what you have noticed, quite possibly even friends.

tentatively, you suggest, “maybe this is something you should tell the others about. that way you can truly let things go.”

his gaze wavers at the idea as he looks at you. yet, the miniscule smile and encouraging nod you give him fills him with tranquillity. perhaps it is time to let go, but the only way he can truly do that is if he is honest to the boys about his feelings–if he is honest to himself.

“okay,” he breathes out softly.

you grace him with another beat of silence before you stand up, extending your hand out to him. “let’s go.”

wooyoung takes your offered hand and lets you pull him up to his feet. he does not know if it is intentional, but the slight squeeze you give him right before your hand lets go of his fills him with warmth. the feeling stays with him even when he activates the ice pack as you two walk back to the locker room.

right at the doorway where the rest of the team is behind, you stop. you place your hand on wooyoung’s back, whose brows are starting to furrow in confusion. “i’ll be waiting out here. take your time,” you tell him.

“thank you, coach,” wooyoung returns your soft smile.

before you can think better of it, you reply, “i wasn’t talking to you as your coach…but as your friend.” then you nudge him towards the doorway with tender encouragement, waiting for him to walk through the threshold before you close the door behind him.

the first few months you had coached the red devils, mistrust had been in the shape of private conversations that deliberately excluded you. but now, trust is in the conversations that you know you do not need to be a part of. so you simply lean against the wall and wait.

and when they emerge from the locker room half an hour later, you know you have made the right decision upon seeing their eased expressions and relaxed shoulders. the air is still sombre, their defeat in the semifinals still fresh at the forefront of everybody’s minds, but what matters now is that they will face the loss together–the eight of them and you.

“here you go.”

hongjoong hands you your bag so that you do not have to go back in to grab it. you take it graciously from him, then with him by your side, you two lead the group through the arena–past the gazes and whispers that follow your group–and out to the team’s bus.

first to load his kit bag, yeosang takes his usual seat towards the front and waits. he has long developed the habit of placing his backpack under the seat in front of him instead of beside him. as the bus starts to pull away once all the bags are properly stored, you wordlessly take the seat next to him. your knees intermittently brush up against each other with the slight sway of the bus, but neither one of you make a move to shift your legs away.

you and yeosang watch the outside world whirl by the window, just like you always do. except the flowers that have bloomed among the trees–that had been bursts of positivity and vibrancy only just this morning–are now bittersweet reminders of the fall that you and the boys have just experienced.

a brief movement below your line of vision causes you to glance down. it is yeosang’s hand, palm upturned with a silent invitation of solace. you slide your fingers into his, an extension of the comfort you wish to give to them, and them to you.

what you and the boys do not realise, though, is that your flowers have simply bloomed elsewhere.

your jaw drops in sync with the last of the heavy suitcases that seonghwa rests on the floor outside their apartment complex. the amount of his luggage is easily equivalent to at least half the team’s.

“these are all yours?” you confirm.

seonghwa looks at you strangely, “of course. why?”

you look at him strangely. “are you planning on moving? why did you pack enough for a trip around the world?”

“well somebody didn’t want to tell us where we were going, so i had to make sure i was prepared for wherever our destination would be.”

“it’s called a surprise for a reason,” you shake your head, “and i did tell you to pack for cold weather, didn’t i?”

seonghwa fakes offence, scoffing, “can i remind you that it is still spring here, so my apologies for assuming that it might potentially mean we are travelling overseas.”

“you’re such a worrywart, you old fart,” wooyoung teases, circling around the older on his rideable suitcase.

seonghwa yelps when the wheels nearly run over his toes and he threatens, “next time you wet through your entire pack of underwear, don’t come crawling and begging for my spares.”

the suitcase halts indignantly to a stop with its rider. “that was one time,” wooyoung complains, “and it wasn’t even my fault!”

“it wasn’t even my fault,” seonghwa mocks. “i told you not to put your shampoo in a ziplock bag but no, you said that it would be fine.”

wooyoung sticks his index finger up. “correction, hongjoong said that it would be fine.”

“what the fuck, wooyoung,” hongjoong blanches at the sudden disclosure.

“and that’s exactly where you are at fault,” seonghwa cocks his eyebrow at wooyoung. “why would you listen to him?”

“what the fuck, seonghwa. i’m your captain,” hongjoong scowls.

“only during games.”

when you make eye contact with san, the two of you can only sigh with amused resignation. the rest of the boys shake their heads and proceed to load their luggage onto the bus, leaving the trio to feud it out in the background.

as mingi stacks his luggage beside yunho’s, he turns to ask, “are you sure we don’t need our kits?”

“you all brought your skates and sticks with you?” you question in return. when mingi and yunho nod, you reassure them, “then that’s all you need.”

jongho pipes up from beside you, “but what about training?”

“mental training,” you simply grin before hopping up the stairs to sit beside yeosang.

the boys gradually take their seats, even wooyoung and the two oldest despite their continued bickering. somebody yells out over the commotion, “coach! are you going to tell us where we’re going now?”

you peer backwards over the top of your seat to find everyone’s eager eyes on you. “nope,” you snicker, “you’ll find out when we get there. we are going on a holiday though, i’ll tell you that much.”

there is a surge of excitement at your confirmation and a similar fluttering eagerness flits through you, except yours is because you cannot wait to see their reactions. you really hope that the next two weeks will help to reset the team’s morale and give them a much-needed break.

“kq let us go on holiday?” yeosang asks with an impressed look as you settle back in your seat.

you give him a proud smirk. “i’m pretty convincing when i want to be. plus, we just had playoffs and we would all benefit from the rest. what better time to do that than at the start of the off-season?”

“there is no better time.”

“exactly.”

and so the bus starts the four-hour drive towards what the boys will soon come to realise is a team retreat. mingi connects his phone to the bluetooth, in charge of shuffling the music that blasts through the speakers, turning the atmosphere of the bus into a lively concert once it becomes obvious that it is going to be a long trip.

you have to yell over their deafening singing–which you have to admit actually sounds quite impressive–numerous times for them to sit their asses down, their enthusiasm uncontainable by the seat belts and law regulations. but they look their age, free and untroubled; just a group of boys up to their silly antics with one another, so you cannot bring yourself to truly regulate them.

the bus drives on, making a rest stop at one of the service areas along the highway so that you can stretch your legs in fresh air, use the restrooms and most importantly–

“food!”

their hollers resound before the doors of the bus even open. the second that the gap is large enough to fit one of them through, most of the boys go sprinting off like a stampede of toddlers in the direction of the food court.

wooyoung stays back and slips his arm through the crook of your elbow when you step off the bus too. he grins mischievously, “i’m sticking with you so you can pay for my food.”

“oh, stop it,” yunho tugs him away, pulling even harder when it only serves to make wooyoung’s grasp tighten around your arm. “i’ll pay for your food. leave her wallet alone.”

you laugh brightly as you are jostled around and you pull a card out of your back pocket, holding it up like a golden ticket. you waggle your brows playfully, “it’s on the company card.”

both wooyoung and yunho freeze. their eyes instantaneously start to glimmer, faces radiating when they slowly look at each other. then before you can react, they pounce on you, linking their arm through yours on either side of you and dragging you along to catch up with the rest of the team.

“buy whatever you want!” wooyoung brags and waves the card that he has seized off of you, “it’s on me!”

the service area itself is a field trip as the eight boys cause carnage throughout, except the destruction is in the number of times they swipe the company card. their hands quickly fill with rice cakes and fish skewers, corn dogs and grilled squid, more bags of walnut pastries and roasted potatoes tucked safely under their elbows. they demolish the snacks at the same rate it takes for the next ones to be prepared and the card is tossed around to keep up with their purchases.

they do not forget about the drinks either, getting iced americanos and barley tea to go along with their snacks, and banana milk and soda for the next leg of the trip. whatever catches their eyes–basically everything they lay their eyes upon–they buy. you do have to draw the line at daytime drinking though, narrowing your eyes at the cases of beer jongho and yunho try to pick up until they sheepishly put them back.

(you also end up having to purchase motion sickness tablets because seonghwa and mingi gorge themselves so full on snacks that they are queasy before they even make it back on the bus. kq’s president sends you a text too, asking just what exactly you and the boys have bought to rack up almost forty consecutive purchases at a service area. but the subsequent message asking if they are enjoying themselves tells you that his question is all in good fun.)

their energy mellows out during the last hour of the trip, both from tiring themselves out and from the gradual change in the scenery outside the windows. no longer can you see an endless mirage of highway road and open fields.

as the miles build up the further you travel, it leads deeper into a mountainous woodland with the trees growing denser and thicker around you. the narrower road winds around the base of hills and the bus driver carefully navigates the undisturbed peace of the forest. it starts to get colder and when the branches of the trees gradually dress themselves in dappled layers of snow, more of you shoulder on the thick coats and puffer jackets you had told them to bring.

the bus eventually arrives at a clearing amongst the pine trees, revealing a large but welcoming cottage pension. its wooden exterior and sloped roof gives it a distinctly cosy and rustic look, with large glass doors spanning the entire height of the walls that will let you admire the surrounding mountainous beauty from inside. off to the side of the cottage, there is a sizeable lake that has frozen over and immediately, you know that this was the perfect place to choose.

the boys press their faces against the window to get a better look as the bus pulls up beside the accommodation. “woah,” they breathe out, their exhales fogging up the glass.

they follow you off the bus in a trance, mouths open and unable to peel their eyes away lest they waste even a second to drink up the sight before them. here, in the heart of the taebaek mountains, it is still a winter wonderland despite the spring blossoms that cover the rest of seoul.

you turn to face them, walking backwards slowly and spreading your arms out with fond tenderness. “welcome to your home for the next two weeks, boys.”

even though it is simply an illusion created by taebaek’s geographical location and mountainous terrain, this time you find yourself appreciating the coldness and bareness of the winter-like ambience that cocoons you and your boys. it is as if time has stopped and there are no worries…only time to heal and start afresh.

living together, even if just for a holiday, is different.

you are used to only seeing the team in their training clothes, practice jerseys or bulked up in their padded gear and uniform. but here, the boys wear lounging sweatpants and worn hoodies, hair soft and poking into their eyes, bodies and expressions unguarded as they laze around. and where you are used to only seeing them at training, meetings and games, all rigorously scheduled and planned, there are no expectations to follow and no limits as to when you see them here.

the boys have their own organised chaoticness to their daily routines, having been living together for almost seven years now, and it seamlessly integrates into the space of the cottage too. but what truly surprises you and them is how you naturally blend into it.

when you rented the pension, you had ensured there were at least three bathrooms to accommodate all nine of you. however, you quickly discover that numbers mean nothing because the boys are incapable of staggering their morning and nightly bathroom routines one by one like you had assumed they would. you also realise that it is not that they are incapable, but that they like and want to do everything together.

space within a room holds no meaning to them and they are perfectly content to stand pressed up against each other’s sides, expertly dodging elbows and leaning over one another to reach for their toothbrushes or skincare. after that first night, you wake up in the morning and patter off in search for the least cramped bathroom to wriggle yourself into, up to three of you sharing the large sink and mirror that now looks comparatively tiny as you brush your teeth together.

more often than not, you find yourself sandwiched between yunho and mingi. it is moreso a matter of neither boy letting you escape from their clutches if you happen to peer into whichever bathroom they have crammed themselves into.

“we make the perfect ratio as the two tallest plus you as the shortest,” mingi likes to rationalise, “so it averages out perfectly with three boys in each of the other bathrooms.”

“but san’s shoulders are basically the equivalent of two grown men, so your point is invalid no matter how we divide ourselves up,” you like to argue back.

except they refuse to see reason. instead, yunho raises the volume of the speaker he has set on the sink’s counter that blasts out music to playfully drown you out. you relent every time and it turns into goofy dancing from the three of you as you pull silly expressions at one another in the mirror. when you rinse your mouth, mingi will start a gargling competition without fail, but none of you have lasted for more than three seconds before you begin to choke with laughter.

(when you are with people you like, everything is funny.)

seonghwa shakes his head whenever he passes the bathroom, insisting, “the only thing you guys are missing is a disco ball.” he is definitely not jealous of the fun you three are having. not at all.

the eldest has his own routine though, visible in the way he prepares everybody’s cups of coffee in the morning. they are all made differently according to individual preferences; no sugar, double shots, a dash of milk, brown sugar, matcha powder or decaf. and despite the fact that yeosang is usually up the earliest, seonghwa does not allow him to make his own coffee.

seonghwa claims it is because nobody knows how to properly use the drip brewer, but yeosang sits next to you and murmurs into your ear, “he just won’t admit that he likes to make them for us.” it must be the chill of the morning, but yeosang’s warm, whispery voice always sends goosebumps over your arms.

by the second morning, seonghwa finds himself naturally grabbing an extra cup and the hot surprise greets you with one and a half teaspoons of sugar in it, just how you like it. hongjoong emerges from the bathroom moments later to grab his cup and as he takes a careful sip, his eyes flit over the remaining cups on the table. seonghwa can practically hear the numbers ticking up in his head.

“y/n already took hers,” he verbalises, beckoning with his chin.

hongjoong turns around in the same direction to see you curled up on the sofa next to jongho and yeosang, your feet tucked comfortably underneath you as you lean forward out of curiosity to take a sip of jongho’s americano. when your expression scrunches up from the shock of bitterness, jongho giggles brightly and steadies your hand that is holding your own cup of sweetened coffee. his eyes melt at your reaction.

“oh, i know that expression,” hongjoong chortles. “he’s a goner.”

seonghwa sees the honey in hongjoong’s own eyes and he smiles knowingly, “i don’t think he’s the only one.”

hongjoong does not peel his gaze away from the three of you all cosied up on the couch. “you’re right, they’re both goners,” he hums absentmindedly, not at all registering who exactly it is who is being referred to.

(the true answer is that there are more than three of them.)

you discover that wooyoung is usually in charge of cooking, but in return, everybody else gets up to clear and wash the dishes the moment the last pair of chopsticks is placed down on the table. that is the only time they are allowed into the kitchen because they are apparently all walking hazards.

but when wooyoung realises you can actually handle a knife without giving him grey hairs from watching, the two of you easily divide the roles and tasks between yourselves. like a waltzing dance, you move together in the kitchen to prepare the meals. he passes you the spices in the overhead cabinets before you ask and you close the fridge when he takes out a pack of meat or vegetables.

cooking with wooyoung is never without bickering. he does not let you hear the end of the time you bump your head on the edge of the counter when you try to grab a saucepan from underneath, or the time you squeal after the oil starts to splatter from the onions. but if that is the reason why he starts to subtly move his hand to cushion the edges of the counters when you bend down to find something, or why he chooses to do the stirring and frying while you slice, then he pretends it is merely coincidence.

san never strays far away from the kitchen whenever you and wooyoung are cooking. you have noticed that they do not really ever stray apart–none of the boys do, though. wooyoung talks as you and san listen and the latter does not stop smiling as he watches wooyoung multitask. what you do not realise is the countless times you have forgotten to keep cooking because you are watching him too with the same expression that san wears.

(the rest of the boys realise and they also see the way san and wooyoung will pause to gaze at you.)

when you two have mostly finished cooking and it is simply a matter of waiting for the sauce to simmer or the soup to boil, you find that wooyoung will take his seat next to san on the barstools at the island, knees and thighs touching as he continues the conversation. you gravitate towards them the first time before catching yourself, cautious that you may be intruding, but then san gives you a dimpled smile and beckons for you to come and sit by his other side.

san likes to keep a gentle hand resting on wooyoung’s knee as he talks. when he does the same thing to you without even looking, your lungs stop working for a minute. the only thought that consumes your mind is the warm sensation of san’s thumb soothingly running back and forth across your skin. you do not want him to stop, so you stay still in hopes that he continues. you are pretty sure san does not even consciously realise he is doing it.

(san does, and he is glad you do not move away.)

in the hours after dinner and before you all head off to sleep, you pile the thick blankets into the open living room and squish yourselves on the least number of couches as possible. again, space holds no meaning when you are with the boys and you find the press of yeosang and hongjoong’s skin against your own more natural there than not.

sometimes you watch movies together, other times talking with low voices as the hours tick by, and other times where you are all doing your own things but in the presence of one another. regardless, the nine of you stay cuddled in front of the fireplace with the warm glow of the fire and the light dreamy flutter of snow outside the windows.

yeosang tenderly tucks the blankets up around mingi’s shoulders when he falls asleep before turning to you on his other side. “are you warm enough?” he softly asks. and even though you say you are, he still tucks the edges of your blanket under your chin, nestling you safely within the blanket, hongjoong’s side and his own body.

the boys are naturally affectionate with one another and seeing the close dynamic of their…friendship so intimately in the environment of the retreat reminds you once more of the possibility that their relationship may run deeper than they let on.

(but when that affection extends to you, you wonder what exactly that may mean for your own relationship with the boys.)

and so living together, even if just for a holiday, is different. it is different when they are the first sight to greet you when you wake up, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes and voice still husky from fatigue as they murmur good mornings to you, and your cheeks start to glow with rosiness.

it is different when the decisions you make together are not about a change in formation or a defensive power play, but what to make for dinner and what movie you want to watch afterwards, and it makes you begin to wonder what other mundane decisions you want to make with them. it is different when they wrap you in their embrace–eight consecutive hugs–to bid you goodnight, and it takes you longer to fall asleep because you toss restlessly in your bed as their smiles replay in your head.

being on the retreat together is strangely domestic and homelike. but it has been almost nine months since you have started coaching the boys and thus seeing them every day for countless hours on end. so really, this trip should not change anything.

and yet, it feels like everything is changing.

jongho pays no mind to the conversation that is happening around him. last he heard, half of you are wanting to go out to skate on the lake before the sun sets and the other half are wanting to finish the halli galli championship you had started the night prior.

he is happy to do either but his mind is distracted by something else. as the screen of his phone lights up, jongho’s eyes flicker down and he puts his hand over the glowing display before anybody can see the caller id. you glance at him when you catch the movement in the corner of your peripheral vision, only to look away when yunho calls out your name to see which of the two options you would prefer.

the screen goes black as the call goes unanswered. seconds later, it lights up briefly with a notification.

pick up.

then the caller id shows up again. jongho grabs his phone and mumbles to nobody in particular, “going to grab something from my room.”

closing the door to the room that he is sharing with hongjoong in the pension, jongho sits down heavily on the edge of his bed, phone clutched tightly in his hand. whilst he has no qualms ignoring their messages now, he still finds it difficult to do the same to their phone calls. he finds his resolve weakening as he watches his phone ring for the third time within minutes.

so jongho picks up. “mother,” he greets stiffly.

she scoffs scathingly, “you finally decided to pick up.”

“i’ve been busy with the playoffs.” a half lie.

“busy? busy losing, you mean,” his mother ridicules. jongho is taken aback by the fact that she is aware, since he did not tell his family. it makes sense when she berates, “do you know how embarrassing it was for me to find out from your aunt? she told me to congratulate you for making it into the semifinals–the semifinals, jongho.”

he feels a heat of shame at what she is insinuating. jongho defends, “that’s still the top four out of seventy six teams.”

“nobody cares,” she turns her nose up. “it does not matter if you came fourth, second or last–unless you win first place, the result is not worth anything. our entire family has a legacy of achievements and your younger brother even has an olympic gold medal now. but what have you done? this is a mere national competition and yet you are incapable of making it into the finals.”

“jong–” his name dies on the tip of your tongue and your hand stops before you can knock on the door when you hear jongho’s muffled voice.

the boys had finally decided to grab their skates so you had come to get jongho to join everybody outside. realising he is talking to somebody, you are about to turn away and give him some privacy, but the words you hear make you freeze.

it is not the conversation itself that you overhear; it is the wounded tone of jongho’s voice that makes it impossible for you to walk away. your feet stay rooted to the spot, in fact, wanting to enter the room. you have not heard jongho in such great affliction before, not even when he was consoling the boys with tears in his own eyes after their crushing defeat in the playoffs.

“when are you going to celebrate my achievements for what they are, instead of telling me to do better?” jongho appeals.

he has lived his entire life being told that he is not good enough–constantly compared to the accomplishments of his family, particularly those of his younger brother. what he does not understand is why he cannot just be recognised for the athlete that he is, void of any other person.

his mother is silent and for a brief moment, jongho thinks that she may finally see some sense in his words…only for her to unfeelingly state, “when they are worth celebrating.” with a simple, “do better,” she hangs up on him.

jongho’s hand falls limply into his lap, phone slipping out of his lax fingers with a dull thud to the ground. he wants to swear. he wants to cry. he wants to throw his phone against the wall until the screen shatters. but jongho simply leans forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, the crushing weight of dejection forcing his lungs to exhale shakily.

there is a faint, timid knock on the door. he knows who it is immediately–only one person would knock so softly. “come in,” he answers listlessly, because he could never bring himself to ignore you no matter his own feelings.

the door cracks open to reveal your tentative figure and you slip through the opening. from the way your lips are pulled down, eyes rounded with concern, jongho knows that you have connected enough dots to understand the context of the phone call.

you approach the bed and try to ignore how small the boy in front of you looks with his shoulders hunched inwards on themselves. jongho has always appeared as the most collected and composed, even more so than the captain, and it makes your chest tight to realise he has simply been hiding this whole time.

jongho is not a man of many words so you do the next best thing that feels right in the moment. you simply open your arms. when his hands slowly come up in silent acceptance, you step forward to engulf him in your embrace.

he presses his face into the soft warmth of your stomach. the darkness welcomes him with safety and comfort and he lets out a stuttering breath that racks his entire body. you wrap one arm around his shoulders and cradle the back of his head with your other, your fingers tenderly caressing his hair in soothing motions.

although silence is what he needs, you allow yourself to say one thing to him. you murmur, “i’m proud of you, jongho…so, so proud of you.”

and they are the words he has been wanting to hear his entire life. unable to keep it together any longer, jongho breaks down in your arms with tearful sobs and allows himself to grieve for the acknowledgement he has yearned his entire life and never received. however, it will only be for tonight because he has realised that it is futile to chase after recognition from a person who refuses to see his worth, even if that person is his own family.

there will always be other people who can see his actual worth; the same people who will still love him even if he does not have a gold trophy to call his. for him, those people are his seven boys and you.

so he stays in your arms with you wrapped around him, time lost to the two of you. he cries until he has no tears left and you tilt your head upwards to stop the flow of your own tears before they can drip down onto the crown of his head. and outside the bedroom, hongjoong quietly eases the door shut to give you both some privacy.

you do not know how much time has passed when you finally step out. jongho has fallen asleep after you tucked him under his covers, exhausted. heading towards your room to change out of your shirt, you are startled by the sight of hongjoong lingering near the door.

“you didn’t go out with the boys?

he shakes his head, then conscious of where you two are standing, he gestures inside your room and follows you in. “is jongho okay?” hongjoong asks.

“i think so…he’s sleeping now but probably just needs a bit more time,” you sigh, “i just wish i could do more for him.”

hongjoong reassures, “you are already doing so much more than you realise.”

for jongho. for wooyoung. for all of them. comfort has never been about the words or actions, but the person who is by their side, and for the boys, having you there is already enough.

“really?” you worry.

“yes, really.”

before he realises what he is doing, hongjoong reaches out to gingerly cup the side of your face to thumb away the worry in your brows. “y/n, you take care of us all the time…but who takes care of you?” he whispers.

“i’m your coach, of course i–”

“no,” he interrupts. “you aren’t just our coach and from what i have seen, you aren’t just our friend either. unless…” hongjoong hesitates, “unless i’ve been reading everything wrong, then in which case, tell me and i’ll move away.”

you do not reply. your eyes flicker back and forth between his, your heart racing and mind blank. it is true–they are not just your players and they are not just your friends either, but you are unsure about taking such a huge leap of faith and acting upon the feelings you have only just started to understand.

hongjoong takes your silence as encouragement to step even closer until he is right in front of you. he keeps his hand on your cheek, his other coming up to delicately cradle your waist. you are standing intimately enough for his warm breath to span across your cheeks as he tenderly pleads, “let us take care of you as more than what we are right now.

“if you do not want to put a label on it then that’s fine, we won’t. we’ll still be your team and you’ll still be our coach. but please, let us take care of you when you are hurt, when you’re upset or angry, and when you are happy, too. let us love you as one of ours.”

as one of theirs.

you swallow and confirm, “are you all together?”

“yes, we’re dating each other,” hongjoong nods.

“but then why…” your voice trials off. why me, too?

hongjoong taps the tip of your nose and jokes lightly, “is there a capped limit as to how many people we are allowed to love?”

it pulls a giggle out of you and he smiles fondly as he reiterates, “we don’t need to put a label on this and we can go entirely at your pace. just let us into your heart, please?”

for a moment you wonder what will happen to your professional relationship with the boys–what will happen if things do not work out or worse, if other people find out and report you all for it. but when you really think about it, you realise that the professionalism between you and the boys has long since blurred.

you do not know if you can go back to seoul after this retreat and act like you do not want to continue living with them. most importantly, you do not want to know if you can. so you take the leap of faith and nod–you want to be theirs.

when you first met the red devils in autumn last year, you were resolved to win over them. never would you have expected that you would win them over in more ways than one…and be won over yourself.

“hi, girlfriend.”

seonghwa smacks the back of wooyoung’s head. “stop pressuring her,” he hisses as the younger cackles delightfully and strides away through the snow impressively fast considering he is wearing his skates.

“ignore him,” seonghwa turns to you, where you are sitting on the porch steps to the cottage. he squats down and takes the laces out of your hands to start doing up your own skates.

“i can do it myself,” you start.

“i know you can,” seonghwa hums, gazing up lovingly, “but i want to do it for you.”

you press your lips together in an attempt to hide the shy smile that blooms across your face and when that fails, you duck your head down instead. ever since your talk with hongjoong the other day, the boys have been significantly more obvious and proactive with their displays of affection for you. however, you are pretty sure they had their own conversation when you were asleep or in the shower, because not one of them pressures you into something you are not ready for, even if that includes making your relationship official.

“there you go. is it too tight? too loose?” seonghwa taps your skates and you tell him they are perfect. taking his offered hand with an appreciative smile, he pulls you up to your feet and you go to join the rest of the boys on the frozen lake.

you are sure it feels the same for every single one of your boys–nothing can compare to that moment when you first step onto the ice. it is where you become a completely different person; a fish back in water, in control and at home.

it had been a gamble renting the cottage pension as you were unable to know whether the lake would be frozen over enough to allow for skating. but it is as if the heavens know not to separate you and your boys from the love and passion that your entire lives revolve around, because you are blessed to see them scrambling out to play on the frozen lake almost every single day, just like they are right now.

san spots you and seonghwa and beckons for you two to join. “hongjoong’s the tagger,” he calls out.

the captain stands at the other end of the lake, back facing everybody as he drawls, “green light…”

before hongjoong even starts to enunciate the first word, yunho, wooyoung and jongho have already pushed off their skates to advance. it sets off an immediate chorus of indignant shouts and desperate acceleration amongst everybody else to catch up. you laugh and seonghwa drags you along with him urgently, unable to stand your apparent nonchalance and uncompetitiveness.

but oh, how wrong he is. very quickly, you join the majority of the boys in a game of who can be the most sneaky with dirty play. wooyoung and mingi tussle with one another right as hongjoong turns around with his yell of ‘red light!’, trying to topple the other over so they get caught. jongho yanks on the back of seonghwa’s jacket whilst yeosang giggles and joins in to yank on jongho’s, effectively preventing all three of them from advancing forward.

“let go of me, you brats!” seonghwa flails forward against the combined weight of the two boys but to no avail.

you use yunho’s height to your advantage and hide behind him, steadily creeping forward even when hongjoong has turned around to face you all. yunho quickly catches on and extends his hands backwards for you to latch onto. you are more than happy to let him do all the hard work skating you both towards the captain and you grin cheekily at the trio–still caught up in their self-induced tug-of-war–as you overtake them easily.

“y/n’s cheating!” san hollers, the only one who is actually playing by the rules.

“life’s not fair!” you holler back gleefully at the same time that hongjoong sniggers, “san, you moved your mouth! go back.”

san gives an indignant cry, “favouritism, i say!” but, bless his heart, moves back to the starting line regardless.

when yunho is almost towering over hongjoong, he cues you to get ready to escape by letting go of your hands. you pivot around and without waiting for anything else, you start to run away.

“gree–”

yunho tags hongjoong’s right shoulder before pushing off to the left so that he escapes the other’s immediate line of vision. except it means that the first person that hongjoong sees when he turns around is you.

an involuntary squeal escapes you when you hear the terrifying crispness of skates on ice right behind you followed by the captain’s arms snaking around your waist. “caught you, babe” he beams. hongjoong lifts you up with shit-eating smugness at your reaction–both at his close proximity and the pet name–spins you around for good measure, then sets you back down to chase after the others.

wooyoung skates in a wide arc to dodge the captain’s frenzied rampage, only to suddenly appear right beside you with the most telling glint in his sparkling eyes that he is up to mischief. he grins.

“wooyoung, no,” you warn.

he grabs you by the waist. “wooyoung, yes.”

wooyoung pushes off his skates with you in front of him at breakneck speed across the ice, bellowing at the top of his voice, “make way for the cripples!”

you scream the entire way to the end of the lake, hands clutching onto his like a lifeline as a colourful string of words flies out of your mouth. you think you black out for a second because when you open your eyes again, you are in a heaving tangle of arms and legs on the cushiony surface of powdery snow.

“oh, shit,” hongjoong winces.

the boys speed towards you and wooyoung, and yunho peers down at you on the ground with panicked concern in his eyes. “are you two okay?” he asks but when he sees that you are laughing, unrestrained and radiating joy, yunho relaxes and joins in with relief.

they–mainly seonghwa–fuss over you both enough to reassure themselves that there is not so much as a scratch or bruise, before mingi suggests playing a casual hockey game of five versus four. there are to be no goaltenders and san fashions makeshift goalposts by poking sticks into the snow on either ends of the lake.

the team splits into their usual arrangement when they are required to be in two groups; hongjoong, yunho, san and wooyoung; seonghwa, yeosang, mingi and jongho. normally, you would offer to be the honorary referee…but the boys have never been rough with you and you have confidence that you will not get hurt. so for the first time in years, you play.

it is far from a proper league game and it will never be enough to quench your thirst as a former athlete, but for now, gripping your stick on the ice in tandem with the others, you are content–you are alive.

like red light, green light, the game starts off fair and proper for a grand total of two minutes. then it becomes a circus of foul plays and increasingly creative methods of cheating as all sense of order is tossed out the window. yunho and san stand in front of you, leaving just enough space for you to handle the puck, whilst hongjoong and wooyoung flank your sides and use their sticks to block any attempts to steal the puck. as a shielded group of five, you all move up towards the goalposts like a formidable army tank.

in retaliation, jongho physically manhandles hongjoong out of the way, hugging him from behind with a vice grip that he swears not to let go. seonghwa, mingi and yeosang imitate him with similar displays of strength, turning the entire match into a childish scuffle of chaos and hysterics.

there are no proper rules, no proper gear and no proper stadium–only the bare minimum, yourselves and uncontainable laughter. it feels like you are kids again, little souls harbouring colossal dreams, running around on the fields with long branches and a pine cone you had found when you could not afford to go to a real rink.

it is like you have gone back in time to when all you knew about ice hockey from watching it on your television screen was that you had to get the puck into the goal. you and the boys are fresh, blank slates without a care in the world for the countless strategies and tactical plays that you have learned over the length of your careers.

without the pressures and routines of strict training regimes, you all reignite the very roots of your ardour and fervour for ice hockey. no longer is it about the scores and making it into the playoffs. no longer is it about winning the championships to gain the acknowledgement of other people. no longer is it about the trauma of betrayal, injury and defeat you have experienced.

playing is simply the thrill of skating liberally with no burdens across the ice. it is the feeling of thriving when your blade connects with the puck and sends vibrations up your arms. it is the rush of adrenaline as everyone moves in tandem with the same singular thought in your hearts–that you love ice hockey with your entire lives. and that in itself is already more than enough, even without a gold trophy and championship title to prove it to yourselves.

for the last five years, the boys have had the leaves of their trees forcibly plucked and removed–by family, by coaches, and by injuries…but now?

it is time for their flowers to bloom.

spring, 2025: playoffs

standing off to the side, you watch your boys listening attentively to the reporter who is conducting an interview with them. you have continued to stay out of the media spotlight where possible, not yet entirely comfortable standing in front of the cameras again, but your boys have quickly grown accustomed to media coverage ever since their popularity gained traction thanks to their undefeated streak in the regular season.

the interviewer glances down at her prompt card before asking, “so tell me, what has been a major contribution to your success this season? your team has made a name for yourselves as the undefeated champions so far–quite a contrast to how you started off last season.”

seonghwa laughs cordially with her. “we were getting used to a lot of changes last year so our teamwork and mentality wasn’t the best,” he admits. “our agency gave us some time off to recalibrate, which really helped us to focus on building ourselves–as individuals and as a team. i think we learnt to place our unconditional trust in one another and our coach. we still play with a dominantly offensive approach, but we’ve been adopting different playing styles and experimenting with them, so this relies heavily on believing in each other.”

yunho nods, gesturing for the microphone to add, “as cliche as it may sound, a huge part of our growth was also learning how to accept loss. this wasn’t just in the context of being defeated in the semifinals but in the wider lens of our past mistakes, relationships, and even situations that we could not change.

“it has been a tough journey for a lot of us over the last year, but we were lucky enough to have each other’s support,” yunho’s nostalgic smile reflects your own as you realise just how far both you and all of your boys have come. “once we were able to let go, it meant that we could enjoy our career for what it truly is–playing the sport of our dreams together, every day.”

the reporter’s ears perk up in interest at the segway to probe and she jumps on the opportunity to ask, “i am sure many of your fans have been curious for a long time. is there a special somebody who has supported you–or any of you–throughout your journey?”

yunho passes the microphone to the hand that has extended out to reach for it. it’s san this time, who has a charmingly confident persona that he takes on whenever he answers questions during interviews. good thing too, because their fans are going to need something to distract them from understanding the confession he is about to make.

“there is. we all do, actually,” his deep voice rolls off his tongue like butter. the way he smoothly talks with a flirtatious smirk never fails to make you swoon. “funnily enough, we all met our girlfriend at about the same time.”

off to the side, wooyoung sends a wink in your direction and you have to muffle a snort with your hand and divert your glance away. the structural framework of the stadium ceiling suddenly looks very interesting. san stands there incredibly smug at his joke that he knows nobody but you and the boys will pick up on.

by the time you tune back into the conversation, the reporter has moved onto the next question. “last year, you lost to the white tigers in the semifinals. how do you feel about facing them again later today?”

due to a spike in popularity, the korean ice hockey league had to divide its teams into two separate groups for the regular season matches this year. both the red devils and the white tigers had been placed in different groups and by some twist of fate, had ranked at the top and then seeded accordingly on either ends of the tournament brackets. now, your team faces theirs in the very last game of the season.

the finals.

“we’re quite excited, actually,” jongho responds. “we have been wanting to play against the white tigers again some day and i don’t think it gets any more fitting than meeting them in the finals. they have some incredible players but like seonghwa mentioned before, we’ve been working hard to adjust our playing style to suit the situation. our coach has put in a lot of effort to hone in on our strengths and weaknesses, so no matter what today’s outcome is, we’re confident that it won’t be an easy win for either team.”

“i am sure the finals is going to be a thrilling match. now, speaking of coaches,” the interviewer starts and you can see hongjoong’s hand twitching subtly at his side, ready to step in and deflect the question need be should it pertain to you.

she continues, “how does it feel to play against your former coach?”

yeosang and mingi frown, unable to neutralise the confusion on their faces. hongjoong smiles calmly, ultimately taking over the microphone as he apologises, “sorry, could you please elaborate your question?”

it is the interviewer’s turn to fluster slightly but she nods quickly, “you must not be aware, then.”

your eyes dart back and forth as you try to recall whether there is a crucial piece of information you have somehow missed or forgotten to tell the boys. the tone of her voice foreshadows something that makes the pit of your stomach churn.

“last year, the white tigers had a stand-in coach, so you probably did not know.” she says her next words carefully and despite the bustling movement that fills the entire stadium, you can hear the exact moment all of your hearts drop.

“the coach of the white tigers is coach yeon, your team’s former coach in 2018…and he’s here today.”

you are the first to rush back into their locker room. frantically, you grab the official guide that had been given to you by the ice hockey league prior to the start of the regular season from out of your bag. you flip through it, team profiles upon team profiles blending into a hazy blur of faces as you find the one you are trying to look for.

“y/n,” somebody gently murmurs from behind you but you do not register their call. you continue to flick through the pages and when you find the profile for the white tigers, you scan the top of the page for a certain name with a shaky finger.

head coach: yeon ha joon

“oh my god,” you breathe out, hands lowering to your sides and gaze wavering. how the fuck had you managed to miss it this entire time?

you are not the only one affected by the revelation. the change room is pervaded by unease and restlessness, and wooyoung paces back and forth despite hongjoong’s attempts to get him to sit down. hongjoong himself cannot even remember how he answered the question about coach yeon, only that he had somehow excused themselves not long after to cut the interview short.

“how is he still a coach?” seonghwa furrows his brows.

wooyoung stops pacing and your eyes are drawn to him when he suddenly blanches, “what if coach yeon is doing the opposite now and paying other teams to let his own team win?”

“no way–” “–i wouldn’t put it past him–” “–surely not?” the boys’ voices overlap at the speculation.

it is a valid speculation based on what they have told you in the past about coach yeon. however, you stay quiet, suddenly aware of the fact that it is not something that would favour you should it be true. you gnaw the inside of your cheek because as much as you know that your boys would not suspect you, you still worry that doubt may cross their minds at one point, even if only briefly.

“unless the money he offered every single time was equivalent to the prize money, it’s highly unlikely the teams would have all accepted, right?” jongho points out.

yunho shrugs nonchalantly, “but even if they did, we all know that coach yeon would never be able to bribe our girl.”

the way everybody immediately agrees expels some of the anxiety within you, filling you with reassurance and security that starts to relax your chest instead. wooyoung chooses that moment to finally sit down on the bench beside you. he adds, “we’re too whipped for you, so even if you were bribed, we would probably ask whether the money was enough and if you wanted more.”

san chucks a water bottle at him. despite yourself, you laugh and admit, “that is…strangely comforting.”

“see,” wooyoung triumphantly boots the bottle back at the older. “she gets it.”

seonghwa intercepts the pitiful bottle before it becomes weaponised and sets it down next to him. “she wouldn’t accept the money in the first place.”

“exactly, so why does any of this matter?” mingi suddenly questions.

yeosang knits his brows together as he states the obvious, “it’s coach yeon.”

“and?” mingi mirrors his expression with genuine confusion.

it is quiet in the locker room. the coach of the white tigers is indeed coach yeon…and so what? what exactly about the revelation has pushed you all to the edge of the cliff?

mingi cocks his head. “what i’m trying to say is, does it make any difference whether he is their coach or not? think about it–regardless of how he got his team to the finals, he has no unfair advantage over us. there’s no way that he has bribed a fixed win in the finals, and he has no access to any insider knowledge that could jeopardise our tactics and plays.

“the only leverage that he ‘has’ is a psychological advantage–if we can even call it that. but we’re not the same boys who were too naive and powerless to do anything about it six years ago. if anything, we can easily turn this to work in our favour because i don’t know about you guys, but i’m ready to drag his ass through the mud. what we said earlier about not caring for today’s outcome? nah, fuck that. we’re going to fuck him up and show him that he messed with the wrong people.”

he takes everybody’s silence as misunderstanding of his last statement and he hurriedly clarifies there is no violent intent, “by winning. fairly.”

“damn,” jongho whistles. “you’re onto something for once.”

mingi clambers over seonghwa’s legs to grab the forgotten bottle and it goes flying across the room with violent intent. “dude, what the fuck,” mingi grouses.

the dull thud that resounds when jongho holds san’s leg pad up to block the projectile is enough to shift the mood in the room entirely. you finally relax into hongjoong’s side and he moulds you closer to him with the arm that he snakes around your waist as you both watch the locker room erupt into familiar pre-game mayhem.

yunho immediately scoops up the bottle and pitches it again. san stands to the side worrying over his poor leg pads as jongho uses them to bat the makeshift ball. his impressive accuracy makes you wonder whether they would have made it just as big as they are now had they formed a baseball team instead, but then yeosang narrowly dodges the bottle before it gives him a black eye, wooyoung cackles in the background, and you think better of it.

seonghwa joins you both on the bench and amongst all of the mischievous chaos and raucous laughter, you feel at peace, your hands clasped tenderly in the hands of your two captains–in unity, trust and love. you affectionately squeeze their hands with unspoken conviction.

you know your boys are going to play well; you just have a good feeling.

the energy in the room spikes exponentially as you huddle together one final time before you walk out of the locker room, through the hallways and to the arena–one final time before you step out to the ice rink as the red devils, playing in the final match.

you and your boys stand in a circle as close as it is physically possible with their bulky pads and game jerseys that they wear so proudly. it is indiscernible where one of you starts and where another ends from how intimately you all press together. your huddle is a woven nexus of arms and your hearts pound as one entity.

everyone learns of the juxtapositions of the world early on in life. there is no light without dark, there is no happiness without sadness, there is no spring without autumn…and there is no victory without defeat. not a single one of your boys has made it this far without falling at least once, and the conscious thought makes your heart swell and your throat constrict with overwhelming emotion.

somehow, you manage to choke out, “i am so, so proud of all of you.”

yunho and seonghwa’s own eyes start to heat up with wetness. from your side, san kisses your temple with feather-like tenderness, “and we’re so proud of you. y/n, you have grown just as much as we have.”

“thank you for being our coach,” hongjoong murmurs into your ear from your other side, the tip of his nose softly nuzzling you.

wooyoung reaches out to thumb the round of your cheek, “and thank you for loving us when we found it difficult to love ourselves.”

you had always viewed your injury and career with anger, bitterness and anguish…but you have finally come to terms with it. in the process of healing, you have learnt to love yourself, love eight other people, and to be loved. you have had your golden days as an athlete and you are now living your golden days as a coach–

–the very coach of the red devils, your team of boys who are living through their golden days as athletes, and you are going to lead them to victory in the finals.

swiping at a tear that slips down your cheeks, you grin. “boys, let’s win this match and then,” you pause as you meet their determined gazes, their smiles wide with uncontainable excitement, the tension in the room electrifying and palpable.

“let’s go international.”

you may have all fallen before–as athletes, as coaches, as a team–but you will always stand back up together, because at the end of the day your dream is theirs and their dream is yours. and like autumn, the leaves fall for a reason; they must fall before the spring flowers can bloom to their full beauty.

and bloom your flowers have.

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