AreYou_Rae

INFP/INFJ 24 Kpop, Jpop | Tokusatsu esp. Kamen Rider🩷

[areyourae]

I've been wanting to say this for months...

WHERE ARE THE ANGST FIC? I NEED THEM😌

Where's my fellow angst lover? Suggest me some angst fic😔✊🏻 I need to waste these tears istg... Any fic welcome with an open heart😌 Idc if I've read it or not, just put whichever angst you like here~

[minhosimthings]

Chrysanthemums || B.EJ

Synopsis: Your husband shows you just how beautiful your scars are.

Pairing: husband!euijoo x fem!reader

Warnings: TW CHILD ABUSE, mention of blood, reader is heavily traumatised, hurt/comfort, reader and euijoo remove their clothes but nothing nsfw happens

A/N: hi yes this is extremely self indulgent and extremely personal practically an autobiography

Word Count: 4.3k

When God made this world, They separated it into two whorls.

The people who are loved and the miserable ones.

The people who are loved walk through the world on a path of sunflowers. They are loved by all, regardless of whether they give that love back or not. They are allowed to shed their tears and they are allowed to not feel bad about it. They are allowed comfort. They are allowed sunlight. They are allowed love.

The miserable ones lie on a bed on chrysanthemums. They must ask for their love, beg for it on their knees like animals on death row. They may not let their eyes gather moisture and they may not feel anything other than a faux happiness. They are allowed anger. They are allowed darkness. They are allowed grief.

Such as you.

You are allowed grief.

You are allowed to grieve the person in an empty room you are trapped in with. You will always grieve this person because you can never save them no matter what ends you go to.

The room only contains you and a mirror within its four walls.

Your reflection stared back at you as you ran your eyes across your body, dressed in your undergarments.

They say that rain can wash away everything if you let it, but on days like this, rain only brought with it a melancholic rage as your mind kept feeding you memories of a life once lived. A life you once died in.

(You are mourning that version of you. There is no possibility of saving that version.)

Your gaze stopped at your shoulder, lingering at the healed gash that rested on the skin there.

Your fingers drifted, not quite touching the glass as your gaze fell to the soft skin of your inner arm. A thin, silvery line ran from your wrist to the crook of your elbow, a river of a moment you had drowned in. 

You remembered the cold tile floor, the way the world had gone quiet. The person in the room with you—that version of you—had been so certain that silence was the only answer. 

Perhaps you were mourning her certainty. Perhaps you were mourning her desperation.

Your knees—scarred and rough, the skin there thick as leather. You had spent so much time on them. Begging, praying, cleaning up shards of glass, pressed into the cold earth of a garden. 

You were allowed to grieve the dirt under your fingernails, the splinters in your palms and the way you had learned to make yourself small.

Your feet. The soles were calloused and cracked from walking through so much—glass and gravel and the sharp edges of humanity’s cruelty. You had walked away from a house that was not a home. You had walked toward train stations, bus stops and the open mouths of strangers. You were allowed to grieve every mile that left you more lost.

And then your eyes met someone else’s in the mirror. The person in the empty room with you, with cold, dead eyes. 

The person you could never save.

Your reflection did not blink. You were allowed to grieve her.

So you did.

You grieved the child who had been through horrors no child should ever go through.

Sometimes, late at night, when the moon comes up and shines her false light onto the world and the cicadas chirp their song for the souls of the dead, you let your mind wander to the question of why.

Why would they ever do that to a child?

The question had no answer. It never would. It was a door that opened into another door, and another, and another—a labyrinth of corridors that all led back to the same empty room.

You remembered the first time you had understood that the hands that were supposed to hold you could also hurt you. You had been so small. 

So terribly small. 

The memory would never be a story that began with a beginning and an end with an ending. It was a wound that had never learned to close. It was a bruise that had seeped into the very marrow of your bones, coloring everything that came after in red.

There was the time your father had backhanded you across the kitchen table because you had knocked over a glass of milk. You had been six. The milk had pooled on the linoleum like a small white lake and you had watched it spread, mesmerized, before the pain arrived like a guest who had already let themselves in. Your cheek had burned. Your ear had rung for hours afterward, a tiny bell tolling inside your skull. 

You had learned, that day, that accidents were not allowed. That you were not allowed.

There was the time your mother had grabbed you by the wrist and twisted until you heard a sound like a twig snapping. You had been eight. You had been crying because someone at school had pulled your hair and she had told you to stop being so weak, to stop being such a burden, to stop making everything about yourself. The pain had been bright and sharp, a star going supernova in your joint. You had not cried after that. 

You had learned to swallow your tears like bitter medicine. You had learned that your grief was an inconvenience to others.

There was the time they had locked you in the closet for three hours because you had forgotten to do the dishes. You had been ten. The closet had been dark and small and smelled of mothballs and old shoes. You had pressed your palms against the door and listened to the sound of the television in the other room, the muffled laughter of a sitcom, the clink of glasses. They were living their lives. You were disappearing into the dark. 

You had learned that you were forgettable: a thing to be put away.

There was the time your father had held a lit cigarette to the back of your hand to teach you not to touch the stove. You had been eleven. You had learned not to scream. You had stared at the ceiling and counted the cracks in the plaster until it was over. 

You had learned to leave your body when it became unbearable. You had learned to float above yourself, a pale and distant moon.

There was the time your mother had told you, with perfect calm, that you were the reason her life was so hard. That you had ruined her body, ruined her marriage, ruined her dreams. You had been twelve. You had believed her. You had carried that belief like a stone in your chest for years, decades, until it had become a part of your anatomy, a second heart that beat only guilt and shame. 

You had carried it in that deep scar that ran across your back, your mother had always been amazing with a kitchen knife and a bit of scarless skin—a carver of muscle when she wanted to be. 

There was the time they had both stood over you, a united front of fury and told you that you were worthless. That you would never amount to anything. That no one would ever love you because you were fundamentally unlovable. You had been thirteen. You had looked up at them from the floor where you had fallen and you had seen monsters and a hunger that could never be satisfied. 

You had learned that love was a transaction. That love was a leash. That love was a weapon.

All these years later, you did not talk to them anymore. 

You had severed the cord, cut the thread and burned the bridge. You had moved to a city where no one knew your name or your history. You had built a life from the rubble of that childhood, brick by brick, with hands that still trembled. You had told yourself you were over it. You had told yourself that the past was the past, that water was under the bridge, that time heals all wounds.

Time is a liar. 

Because every scar on your body that they had made still lingered—portals, thin places where the past could leak through. And when you spiraled, as you were doing now, the scars began to bleed. 

Rotten honey—golden, viscous ooze that smelled of decay and nostalgia and all the love you had never received.

You could feel it now from the map of bruises that had long since faded but never truly disappeared. It dripped down your arms, your legs, your torso, pooling at your feet. It was warm and sticky and it clung to you like a second skin, like the embrace you had always wanted and never gotten.

The rotten honey filled the room. It was the sweetness of the lies they had told you. It was the amber of your own preserved trauma. It was the slow, suffocating truth that you would never be free of them. That they lived inside you now, in the architecture of your bones, in the wiring of your nervous system, in the way you flinched at sudden movements and apologized for existing.

You looked at your reflection through the haze of golden rot.

The child you had been was still in there somewhere, pressed against the glass of the mirror, her small hands flat against the surface. 

She was waiting for you to save her.

Your reflection stared back at you, patient and understanding. 

The fetus shaped adult—ripped from the womb still covered in candy and the innocence of a childhood never lived—within you knew already. 

You were not capable of anything but grief.

As all the miserable ones are. 

_____________________

For someone who didn't quite understand what love meant yet fully (for he was still young), Byun Euijoo knew that his definition of love would certainly have your name.

He loved you.

God, he loved you so much that sometimes it frightened him, the sheer size of it, the way it pressed against his ribs like an additional set of lungs.

Euijoo had known, from the beginning, that you came with shadows. 

He had known about the childhood that had left you scarred in ways both visible and invisible. He had known about your parents who had taught you that you were meant to be broken. And he had known, too, that you had expected him to leave.

In the early days, you had waited for it.

He had seen it in the way you held yourself at a distance, the way you apologized for taking up space, the way your eyes would flick to the door whenever the conversation grew too soft. You had been braced for the moment he would realize his mistake, the moment he would see the rot beneath the skin and walk away. You had been so certain that he would.

Euijoo had stayed.

He had stayed through the nights you woke up screaming. He had stayed through the days you could not get out of bed. He had stayed through the silences that stretched like winter fields, the tears that came without warning, the times you pushed him away because it was easier than waiting for him to go. 

He had stayed and he had learned the geography of your pain the way a cartographer learns a new land—with reverence for every contour and crevice.

Euijoo loved you.

He loved your scars. He loved the way you laughed when you forgot to be sad. He loved the way you held his hand in crowded places, as if tethering yourself to him. 

He loved the way you looked at him sometimes, like you were still surprised he was there. He loved you in the morning when your hair was a mess and your breath was stale and you were slightly grumpy (though he could erase that with a silly joke and a smile that made his cheeks seem inflated). 

He loved you in the evening, when the light made you golden and you seemed like a divine dream he would never have again. He loved you in the dark when the world fell away and it was just the two of you breathing together.

Tonight, he came home later than usual.

The city had kept him, as cities do, with their traffic and errands and the slow crawl of evening. He had texted you to say he was on his way but you had not replied. He had not thought much of it at first—you were sometimes bad at answering, lost in your own head. 

But as he turned the key in the lock and stepped into the apartment, he felt something wrong in the air—a kind of stillness he was not used to. Sure you were silent most of the time but even on your worst days you'd say a little “Hi love” before going back to whatever you were doing. 

He set down his bag, calling your name softly, once, then twice. He furrowed his brows when he heard no answer..

He heard it then—a small sniffle from the bedroom, a breath caught and released. 

Euijoo’s heart clenched.

The bedroom door was ajar and through the gap he could see you. You were standing in front of the mirror, dressed only in your undergarments. Your shoulders were shaking. Your hands were pressed against your thighs, fingers curled into your palms. You were staring at yourself with an expression he knew too well—the look of someone drowning in the past.

Euijoo knew what you were doing. He knew of the ghosts that came calling in the moonlight, the past that always reminded you that time once flowed and it did not stay stagnant. He had held you through it before, and he would hold you through it again.and again and again, for as long as you would let him.

Euijoo stepped into the room. He did not speak at first. He simply walked up behind you, his footsteps soft on the wooden floor and wrapped his arms around you from behind. His chest pressed against your back. His chin came to rest on your shoulder. His arms crossed over your stomach, holding you gently.

In the mirror, your reflection was now framed by his. Two bodies, one embrace. Euijoo met your eyes in the glass.

"My love.” He said, his voice a balm for wounds that would never heal. “I'm home.” 

The sound of his voice, the warmth of his arms, the safety of his presence—it was too much. It was the thing that finally cracked the dam you had been desperately trying to hold together.

A sob tore from your throat, so animal-like that it reminded you humans are animals—stupid stupid emotions. It was unfortunately not the kind of crying you did in polite company, the kind where tears slid silently down your cheeks and you apologized for the inconvenience. 

No, this was the kind of crying that came from somewhere ancient, somewhere that had been holding its breath for years and could no longer pretend.

You turned in his arms, your body folding into his as your legs gave out beneath you. You sank to the floor together, a tangle of limbs and grief. You buried your face in his chest as the sobs wracked through you like earthquakes.

Your fingers clutched at his shirt, twisting the fabric, holding onto him as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had turned to water.

"I'm sorry.” You gasped between sobs, the words tumbling out of you like broken glass. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"

You could not stop saying it, the apologies spilling from your lips like the only language you had ever known. 

You apologized for crying. You apologized for being weak. You apologized for needing him. You apologized for existing, for taking up space, for being a burden, for all the ways you had failed to be the person you thought you should be.

Emotions had always been useless. 

That was what you had been taught. They were like fragile flowers, delicate and perishable, things that wilted under the slightest pressure. They were weaknesses to be eradicated, luxuries you could not afford. You had learned to bury them so deep that sometimes you forgot they existed at all. 

They always found their way back to the surface though, pushing through the soil of your carefully constructed composure and when they did, they came with the force of a flood.

And every time, you apologized for it.

Euijoo did not let go. 

He neither pulled away nor told you to stop crying nor that everything was fine, that everything could be fixed with words. 

He simply sank down with you and held you. One hand cradled the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair with a tenderness that made you cry harder. The other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you as close as physics would allow. Euijoo would absorb the pain through the sheer proximity of everything if he could.

Your lover held you the way one would hold a crying child with the certainty that this was where he was supposed to be. That your tears were not an inconvenience, that your grief was not a burden, that you were allowed to fall apart in his arms, because he would be there to catch the pieces.

His own heart was breaking. 

He could feel it, a splintering in his chest, a crack running through the center of him. Your pain had been so heavy and you had been carrying it alone for so long. He felt the injustice of it all—the cruelty of a world that had hurt you, the cruelty of people who should have protected you, the cruelty of a child who had learned to apologize for her own suffering.

Euijoo pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there, warm and soft.

"I’ve got you." He murmured against your hair. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. You don't have to apologize to me."

His voice was steady, even as his heart ached. He held you tighter, rocking you gently, a rhythm as old as humanity itself.

"Let it out, my love. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

The storm passed as storms always do. The sobs quieted into hiccups, then into shaky breaths, then into a trembling silence. 

Your body was heavy against his, drained of all the tension that had held you upright and you felt like a shipwreck washing ashore, grateful for the sand beneath you.

Euijoo's hand never stopped moving. It traced soothing circles on your back, reminding you that you were here, in this room in his arms and not back in that closet or that kitchen floor or in any of the places that still haunted you.

"Are you okay?" Euijoo asked softly, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "Well, no. That's a stupid question. Let me rephrase." He pulled back to look at your face, his eyes scanning you with gentle concern. "Would you like to lay down for a while?"

You nodded, too exhausted for words. Your throat was raw, your eyes swollen. Your entire body ached with the effort of having felt so much.

Euijoo helped you up, guiding you to the bed. He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside. His skin was warm and bare and when he climbed onto the bed and held out his arms to you, you went to him without hesitation.

You buried your face in his chest, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close and he pressed another kiss to the top of your head. His skin smelled like something that had come to mean safety in your mind.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of breathing. Yours, still ragged. His, deep and even, a metronome for your recovery.

His hand began to move.

Slowly, Euijoo traced the line of your spine, following the curve of your back until his fingers found the first scar. His thumb brushed over it, featherlight and he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the raised tissue.

"I love your hands.” Euiioo said, his voice soft and sincere. "I love the way they hold mine. I love the way they gesture when you're excited about something. I love the way they cup my face when you kiss me."

Your breath hitched but you did not pull away.

He moved to the next scar. The silvery line on your arm, the one you had gotten from a piece of broken glass when you were fourteen. He kissed it, his lips lingering.

"I love your arms.” He murmured. "I love the way they wrap around me when we sleep. I love that they are strong enough to hold me, even when you feel like you are falling apart."

Tears pricked at your eyes again. These were different—they did not burn.

He found the scar on your ribs, the one that had come from the days when you had learned to take up less space, to need less than you deserved. He kissed it and his hand splayed across your stomach, warm and protective.

"I love your body.” He said, his voice cracking just slightly. “I love that it carried you through everything you survived. I love that it lets me hold you. I love that it is here, with me.”

He shifted, finding a bruise on your thigh. He kissed it too.

"I love your legs.” He said, a hint of a smile in his voice. "I love the way they carry you through the world. I love the way they tangle with mine under the covers."

He kissed your scarred knees, one after the other.

"I love your knees.” He said, and you let out a broken laugh at the absurdity of it. "I love that they let you kneel in the garden when you're planting things. I love that they let you curl up on the couch when you're reading. I love that they have never given up on you, even when you wanted to give up on yourself."

Euijoo paused, his lips hovering over the scar on your chest, the one that was not visible to the eye but was there all the same. The one that had been carved by the absence of love where love should have been.

Euijoo kissed the place directly over your heart.

"I love your heart.” He whispered, his voice breaking at last. "It is the bravest, most beautiful heart I have ever known."

He pulled back to look at you, his eyes glistening, his cheeks wet with tears he had not let himself shed until now.

"And I love you.” Euijoo said. "All of you.” You knew he meant every scar and every broken piece you deemed unlovable. “I love you, and I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you if that's what it takes."

He pressed his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your lips.

"You are not too much, my love. You are just enough. You have always been just enough."

You let him wrap you in his arms, pull you against the warm expanse of his chest and tuck your head beneath his chin. You let him hold you as the night pressed against the windows and the city hummed its distant lullaby. 

You did not apologize for taking up space.

His hand found yours in the dark, fingers lacing together like they had been made to fit. His breathing slowed, becoming the rhythm that your own breath began to follow. The tension bled out of your body like water through open hands.

Outside, the moon traced silver lines across the floor. Inside, there was only the sound of two hearts beating in tandem, a duet that needed no words.

When god made this world, they sculpted it into two whorls.

The Loved and The Miserable. 

Here is what they do not tell you, lest you get intoxicated on the poetry of life. 

The two whorls are conjoined twins from the same heavenly womb, that cannot be separated without high risk. If one went, so did the other. 

The Loved cannot exist without The Miserable and The Miserable cannot withstand the weight of the world without The Loved. 

And yes the transitions do occur, winter into spring, spring into happiness, happiness into an acceptance of love. What good is love anyways if it doesn't make your heart swell like a yellow balloon?

You had spent so long lying on chrysanthemums, begging for love that felt like alms, believing that you were made for grief and not for grace.

To be loved is not to walk on sunflowers, untouched and untouchable.

To be loved is to be seen in the dark and still be chosen. To be loved is to fall apart and be caught. To be loved is to have someone trace the map of your pain and call it home.

To be loved is neither a destination nor a reward for being whole.

To be loved is to be held, broken and bleeding, and told that you are enough.

To be loved is this.

Your breathing evened out. Your hand went slack in his. 

Byun Euijoo, who still had so much to learn about love, pressed one last kiss to your hair and held you a little tighter, as if to say: I will keep learning. I will keep loving. 

I will keep staying.

Outside, the moon kept watch. Inside, you dreamed of chrysanthemums blooming into sunflowers. A world where the two whorls danced around each other in the wind.

Love is simple, really. God would not have fashioned something so complex for the noble mind.

Love is to look up at the heavens, to behold the silent majesty of the stars scattered across the night and to choose them even over divinity. 

For what is heaven if not the promise of perfect communion? 

And what is love if not that promise made tangible in this life? 

fin.

A/N: Honestly, i debated for a long time whether or not to post this fic because it's just such a big part of my soul and im not one to really talk about my past (yes im a coward) but i think if there's even a 1% chance that somebody out there will read this and think 'yeah this provided me comfort' then im glad to have posted this.

I'd like to give a shoutout for all my people who have been through any similar experience, not just from your family members but from a partner, a friend or literally anybody. I need you to know that whatever you went through was absolutely not your fault and never will be your fault. You deserve to live your life full of stars and colours and happiness and nobody can take that away from you. I love you all so much and when you think your scars are starting to look a little ugly, I want you to remember that they represent your strength, which I am so so proud of :))

divider by @kodaswrld

&team Taglist: @eu1joo @7yataki @frenchkisstheabyss @yumangel @nichozzystuffs @blueuijoo @pglpblm @ikigaijo @antonh0lic @dearvampyr @riri4andy @tokunodoll @sunsoomi @makizdoll @solairemelo @cece0710 @/someonerandom909 @saturnsfae @cottonauroras @kpoplover-00005 + open

[eu4mi]

IT’S JUST A SHAME, THAT’S ALL — THROUGH THE LENS FROM OUTSIDE

➪ pairing : ot5 cortis x 6th member reader

➪ summary : a continuation to part one , part two , and part three. life's been different without you but what a loss is to a family, it's a new job for someone else.

➪ other notes : if the last part drove me insane, this one demolished me. i hope you guys like it because i really did try my best. creds to @/norvixa6 on tiktok for the analog horror imagery. also this is barely edited it's like 4 am but i tried my very best to check any typos.

“how has it been two months already and still the same information since the first week ?!” your mother screams, hands slamming down on the table. “ma’am please calm down,” officer park tries to deescalate the situation. “no, my daughter went missing two months ago and all any of you do is twiddlƒe with your thumbs instead of looking for her !” your mom cries. “we are doing everything in our power to find y/n, not a day goes by when we aren’t.”

tears start running down your mom’s face, there hasn’t been a single day where she’s had a moment in peace. her whole life halted by your disappearance. “i promise you, we will find y/n,” officer park gently pats your mom on the back, handing her a box of tissues. “we have a new detective working on the case, we are not giving up.” from a few feet away, your brother watches in silence. he’s grown used to how your mom constantly cries.

the car ride home is uncomfortably silent, your brother’s become the chauffeur of the family. your mom hasn’t been able to drive since you disappeared. home isn’t any louder. your shoes are still by the door, slowly collecting dust. your jacket still hangs over a chair, one your mom forgot to move when you forgot it after your last visit. now no one moves anything, how can they ? “mom go lie down for a bit, dinner is on me,” he says, mimicking the same soft tone she used on both of you as children.

“how about we get thai takeout instead ?” she suggests, a lump forms in your brother’s throat. “…yeah of course, whatever you want, i’ll let you know when it gets here,” he forces a smile, nodding. your mom makes her way upstairs before calling out, “oh and chul, if there’s anything new, let me know please.” chul nods, “yeah i will.” but he knows deep inside that there won’t be any updates, it’s just a waiting game with no prize to win.

chul spends most of his days like he did before everything. he attends his classes at his university, works as a cashier afterwards, and goes home to sleep. nothing about his routine has changed yet it feels 10 times more tiring. he can distract himself from thoughts about you during the day but as soon as night falls, everything hits him like a truck. he doesn’t cry, but he’s lucky if he gets three hours of sleep. he hates himself for just thinking of this but a part of him has grown to resent you.

not because you ran away, no that would have been easier because at least you would have told someone. but what is he supposed to think when you suddenly disappear ? he knows what the company said, but he doesn’t care. he knows you, he knows his sister, you would’ve never left. though he knows that making a claim against a multimillionaire company with no proof would only result in loss, financial and emotional.

and with the way finances are going, he’d rather not start anything. almost immediately after you disappeared, the company cut off any source of income, claiming that you had breached the contract. royalties you had been receiving for years even before debut were all cut off. with a mix of mom’s medicine, her medical bills, mortgage, groceries, and miscellaneous bills, chul tried his best to pick up as many shifts as possible.

not because they’re about to go completely broke, but because life was starting to become less comfortable. it’s weird to think that the youngest person in the family was the one responsible for most finances. when mom stopped working after her chronic pain became worse, you told her not to worry about it, that you’d take care of it. now instead of just worrying about his tuition payments, he has to make sure expenses don’t fall through the roof.

one night, chul stares at your bedroom door before opening it. he winces at the creak, remembering how you’d complain that he never oiled the hinges. he walks in, closing the door behind him. he doesn’t bother turning on the light, just sits on the floor next to your bed, letting his back feel the plushness against your mattress. even though you hadn’t lived at home in a long time, your room still looks the same as it did years ago.

the only difference now is that you’re not coming home at all. his hands dig into his hoodie pocket, revealing three things. nicotine gum, nicotine patches, and cigarettes. before you even debuted, chul had the habit of smoking cigarettes on a weekly basis. it helped with his stress as much as he didn’t want to admit he was addicted to it. you’d immediately cover your nose when he walked by, harshly scolding him. “you’re so disgusting chul,” he’d just roll his eyes, “well it’s a good thing you’re not the one doing it huh ?”

it would always end in an argument, until one day when he stopped altogether. “you know, second hand smoking is also bad, how am i supposed to sing if i’m breathing in your smoke ?” chul raised his eyebrows in confusion. “i smoke with the window open, what the hell are you talking about ?” “that doesn’t matter, that shit penetrates the walls !” you stomped your foot in frustration. “you won’t even live here in a month, you’re moving to the dorms.”

“okay then if it’s only a few weeks until i leave, quit for now and then you can continue ruining your lungs,” you crossed your arms. “are you worried about your lungs or mine ? make up your mind.” “i’m worried about all of us ! you know mommy can’t be breathing it in either,” you stated, flailing your arms. chul hummed, you made a good argument. so he finally made the decision to go cold turkey.

“okay, just until you leave, i’ll stop smoking and i promise that any future smoking will be done outside, how does that sound ?” chul smooshes his cigarette into his ash tray. you blink at him before smiling brightly, “really ?!” chul rolled his eyes, “yes really.” you immediately wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tightly. “i knew you loved me !” your voice muffled against his shirt. “don’t get ahead of yourself,” he awkwardly patted your back.

it’s been almost three years since that conversation and since then, chul hadn’t smoked. the first two weeks without smoking were absolute hell, just the aspect of not having anything to wind down after a hard long day sent cold shivers down his spine. yet, he kept his promise, doing everything to fill that void. his oral fixation was satisfied when he shoved a chapstick between his lips, a little gross but it sufficed.

after you left, he challenged himself to try one more month of not smoking, just to prove to himself and to you that he wasn’t addicted. eventually that challenge became his lifestyle, clean lungs and no lingering smoke smell on his clothes. but now chul looks down at the floor in front of him. “fuck,” he curses to himself, biting his cheek hard enough to make it bleed. he just needs something real, anything to make that ache go away.

he picks up the gum packet, reading the instructions on the back, effective in 10-15 minutes. “who the hell waits that long ?” he drops them on the floor again before grabbing the patches, turning it over, effective in 2-4 hours. “are these fuckers trying to kill me or something ?” he scoffs, throwing them on the floor, this time with more force. he sighs, turning his gaze to the pack of cigarettes. he can’t, he can’t just give it all up right now…but he needs it.

“just one,” a wobbly smile forms on his face, shaky hands ripping off the plastic wrapping. then- BUZZZZ. “shit,” chul jolts, dropping the pack. he reaches again into his pocket, now pulling out his phone. it’s an unknown number listed under the police department. he immediately answers, “hello ?” an unfamiliar voice speaks, “good evening, is this chul l/n ?” chul sits up straight, reaching for the nicotine gum. “yes, this is him.”

“my name is detective kang hyeok-jin, i was assigned to your sister’s case about a week ago,” detective kang introduces himself. “i know it can be very frustrating and repetitive to answer the same questions but i’d like to get some details about y/n so i can understand her disappearance as best as i can.” chul shoves three nicotine gums into his mouth, face contorting in disgust. “yeah of course, i’ll answer anything if it helps you guys find my sister.”

across town, a sleep deprived hyeok-jin asks chul several questions. he writes them down in messy handwriting, just enough for him to understand. “thank you mr. l/n, this was very helpful. i’ll dedicate myself to finding your sister,” hyeok-jin grips the phone tighter. “you’re not the first one to say that…but i hope that you’ll actually help,” chul sighs into the phone, obviously tired out by these two past months.

“i’m sorry to hear that, i know it hasn’t been easy for your family, i’ll do everything i can to get her back,” hyeok-jin sets his pen down. a small pause comes from the other line “yeah…thank you for calling anyway.” even though they aren’t face to face, hyeok-jin can sense the hesitation and defeat in chul’s voice. “i’ll let you rest then, i’ll keep you updated on anything and everything, please save my number into your phone, and have a goodnight.”

“alright, thank you, goodnight,” without another beat, the line is cut. hyeok-jin lays his phone face flat onto his desk, rubbing his hands over his face. he’s been looking over this case for only a week and he’s beyond confused. everything that should be there is there but your case file is small to say the least. the longest document is the company’s statement and proof that you breached your contract and could even be sued.

everything else is just…there. “hey boy, you should head home, you’ve been here two hours overtime,” lieutenant baek sun-woo calls out to him. “i’ll go home soon ! i was just reviewing the case you gave me,” hyeok-jin gives his supervisor a tired smile. “don’t you have a wife and a kid to get home to ?” the lieutenant asks. “i actually don’t have a girlfriend sir,” that statement is immediately welcomed with an up and down stare, “well that explains a lot.”

hyeok-jin tilts his head in confusion, but doesn’t have enough time to reply before lieutenant baek bids his goodbye. “go home before any chance of having a girlfriend disappears completely.” hyeok-jin forces out a laugh, “yes sir !” a few minutes later, the office falls completely silent, the only sound coming from the light over his head. hyeok-jin looks back down at your case, furrowing his eyebrows. missing person report. photos of the cctv footage. company statement. lack of witness statements.

the more he thinks, the more he’s confused. he flips through the interviews of different people you were close with, your family, your members, even workers from your favorite stores. they all said the same thing : you would have never left out of your own will. except for one person. when asked by the police if it seems likely that you’d run away, edwards martin stated “i would like to say no but y/n has always been a complicated person, so i’m unsure.”

hyeok-jin leans back in his chair, it would’ve made sense if everyone or most people had the same idea of you but to only have one person, specifically the last person that saw you ? “hey you’re not heading out yet ?” a familiar voice grabs his attention, it’s officer kim. “i’m about to leave, was just looking over some things,” he smiles at her. “good, don’t overwork yourself,” she nods, walking closer to him. “actually since you’re here, were you at the scene during the investigation with that one idol ?” he asks, pushing the case file to his friend.

“no, i was off that day but i did hear some things about it, why ?” she flips through it. “it just seems weird, almost like it wasn’t…thoroughly investigated, everything is so short,” he hesitates on his words, not wanting to overstep a line. “i can’t say much about it honestly, missing person cases are always weird to handle especially when her company is contradicting it as a whole,” officer kim frowns. “yeah…i’ll look more into that, thanks though,” hyeok-jin sighs, grabbing the file from her.

“also, shouldn’t you also be going home too ?” he asks officer kim. “normally yes but they changed me to night shift, just until one of the guys gets back from paternity leave,” she shakes her head. “oh i see, well make sure to stock up on energy drinks and coffee,” he cracks a joke making officer kim snort. “will do, thanks, now go home and sleep before your brain gives out,” she clears her throat, giving him a small wave. “thanks, have a good shift !” once left alone again, hyeok-jin exhales. he’s tired and confused but he does know something, tomorrow’s a new day.

when chul wakes up, he groans in pain. how did you even sleep on your bed every night when you were little if it’s harder than a rock ?! your unicorn plushie is directly under his neck, your lion plushie is tucked between his armpit. he sits up, rubbing his eyes. on your nightstand is his nicotine products, unopened patches, opened gums, and half unwrapped cigarettes. he looks around your room now that the sun is peeking beyond the curtains. it almost makes him sick, he hates being here during the day where he can see the remnants of your memory as a child.

almost immediately, he fixes your bed before grabbing his things and leaving the room. he thinks he’ll die if he stays in there for another minute. when he goes downstairs, he sees mom, buttoning up her bright pink vest. “mom you’re already leaving ?” he asks, grabbing her purse. “early bird gets the worm honey,” she smiles, looking at him. “seeing you go out like this every day worries me,” chul expresses his discomfort.

“not knowing where your sister is worries me,” she ends his argument. “please be safe then, and don’t stand or walk for too long,” hyeok-jin gives the older woman a tight hug. “walking is good for me, you know that,” she shrugs him off, walking to the front door. mom’s been avoidant lately, less affectionate and more sad, not on purpose but because her mind is clouded by worrying about you. he wishes everything could be normal again.

when lieutenant baek invites hyeok-jin out for lunch, he almost refused. it was weird, not in a suspicious way but he had never had a supervisor buy him lunch. yet here he is, stuffing his mouth with meat. “so hyeok-jin, you came from jeju island right ?” lieutenant baek asks him. hyeok-jin nods, swallowing his food. “how come you came to seoul ? i’d die to live on jeju,” the lieutenant chuckles, sipping a bit of his soup.

“i heard seoul is a good place for detectives to grow,” he replies, awkwardly smiling. “really ? i heard there was a lot of crime there,” he shakes his head at his superior’s words. “no, we just have a lot of tourists and most of them are respectful but there’s a handful that just ruin it for everyone. and even then a lot of the crimes are straight forward, a little burglary here, a little fight there, it’s all very simple,” he sighs.

“no wonder you’re going all in for this missing girl case,” the older man chuckles. hyeok-jin places his chopsticks down, wiping his mouth with a napkin “actually i wanted to talk to you about that.” the lieutenant looks at him, eyebrow raised. “why…did you put me on y/n l/n’s case ? i appreciate it of course, it’s an honor but it’s a big case for a newcomer no ?” he asks, looking off to the side. lieutenant baek hesitates to answer before exhaling.

“it’s a big case but it’s also a dead end.” hyeok-jin’s puzzled by his answer. “what do you mean ?” “you know how you had simple cases in jeju ? it’s similar to this one…whether her family and friends want to admit it or not, the girl probably ran away. there’s no proof otherwise and it’d be hard for her company to fake something like that so boldly.” lieutenant baek explains his thinking, it’s clear by now that he’s set on this idea.

hyeok-jin shifts uncomfortably in his seat, unsure of what to say. “when you have your children, you’ll understand that this is the type of things teenagers do when they’re pent up,” his superior attempts to reassure him. “it doesn’t make sense though-” “please don’t think too much about it kid, digging into it will only waste your time.” hyeok-jin shuts his mouth, beginning to become irritated.

“besides let’s say worst case scenario, the company was involved since apparently that’s folks favorite theory, she’s probably living a good life down low. i mean, think about it, people do a lot for money, money talks and money runs the world.” the older man waves off the situation. instead of arguing and possibly losing his job, hyeok-jin calms himself down “if you say so…”

chul’s day was uneventful to say the least, the same long and boring routine. school and work, nothing to celebrate but nothing to complain about. that is until he had to pick up mom’s medicine. he walked in and out of the pharmacy three separate times, waiting for his check for that week to hit his bank account. when it finally does, he’s only left with a few thousand won afterwards, even with the coupon the pharmacist offered.

as fucked up as it sounds, he’s glad that only a few people know that he’s your brother. he can’t imagine the looks of pity and people whispering under their breath “poor guy, it must suck being him” or even “wow he’s an idol’s brother but he could barely afford medicine.” he’d probably die out of the embarrassment. when he reaches home, the sun’s already gone down.

he’s about to reach for his keys, but having the habit of checking if the door is unlocked gets to him first. surprisingly, it’s open. chul furrows his eyebrows, did mom forget to lock it ? he quietly steps inside, just in case something’s happening. “i wouldn’t possibly be able to accept that,” chul hears mom talking in the kitchen. “it’s really okay don’t worry, you’re basically my second mom,” oh it’s martin.

chul stands outside of the kitchen, listening quietly to the conversation. “y/n isn’t here but i know she would have wanted me to help,” martin tries to persuade mom on something. “but it’s so much money…” mom sighs. “exactly, and i’m guessing chul’s been paying for your medicine, so think about it like this : i’m not only helping you, i’m also helping him,” so that’s what this is about, mom’s medicine.

chul remembers the first time you met martin. it was during a hot summer day in august, both of you were sweaty in boiling heat. martin had approached you, offering to push you on the swing after seeing you fail to get momentum which later led into a game of tag. it was cute and wholesome. what chul didn’t expect was for this to blossom into a friendship, the kind every kid desires to have.

as years passed and both of you grew, martin still chased after you, almost like a person running alongside a butterfly. wherever you went, martin soon followed. he liked martin for the most part, especially because you also never had a bad thing to say about him. when chul found out you’d be in the same group, he was relieved you’d have a best friend beside you and also someone he trusts fully.

chul steps back when he hears footsteps approach the doorway. martin is startled back when he sees chul, “you scared me sorry,” he laughs, a smile forming on his face. “nice to see you too,” chul nods, leading him to the front door. “oh by the way,” chul stops martin just as he’s about to leave. “the police assigned a new detective to y/n’s case.” martin doesn’t turn around, he pauses for a second.

“is that so ?” he asks in a low voice. “yeah,” “that’s good,” martin nods, “let me know if they say anything new.” chul hums, “i will don’t worry, goodnight martin,” with nothing more to say, martin opens the front door and leaves. chul doesn’t blame martin for acting weird, everyone handles bad situations differently. he knows it’s been hard on martin, he can only hope the members are all united on this.

it’s been a month since lieutenant baek took hyeok-jin for lunch. over three months since you’ve been gone. hyeok-jin knows that his lieutenant told him not to dig around but can he just stay still ? unfortunately however, hybe and bighit have not cooperated whatsoever. not outright refusing, rather just not responding at all. phone calls to higher ups in the company lead to an hour wait only for the call to suddenly hang up.

he doesn’t have any luck getting paperwork from them either despite the multiple attempts of contact. public records were extremely shortened and difficult to find. it’s just been a full month of frustration and lack of response. he crumbles up a piece of paper, throwing it into the trash can next to his desk. “why even have a phone number if no one fucking answers,” he grumbles to himself. he leans his head against his hands, letting out an exasperated sigh.

hyeok-jin thinks of the lunch with his lieutenant, trying to remember every word from that conversation. he doesn’t think lieutenant baek meant any harm, but the conversation still bothered him. he thinks of something the lieutenant said at the end of their conversation. “money talks.” he doesn’t have anything else to go off of, just hopes and dreams. his fingers tap against his desk, eyes landing on his computer.

he remembers something his professor said years ago “if you can’t follow people, follow the money.” so he leans forward, clicking through different government sites. “if no one wants to talk to me or answer my questions, i guess i’ll ask the numbers.” it’s his very last hunch, otherwise he’d be just like the past detectives that were handed this case. he can’t give up this easily without checking every end of a clue, he promised your brother that he’d try his best.

chul’s morning started off extremely rough. he was already late for his class, one which he had a test for. mom screamed at him for no reason other than the fact that it’s officially been three months since you went missing. he doesn’t blame her or argue back, he just wishes that she could see he’s also struggling just as much as she is. “i’m sorry mom,” he apologizes even though he has no reason to.

mom cries, “just go to school, i want to be alone,” she sniffles. “okay, i love you,” he leaves before she can say anything else. he runs the fastest he can to his university, missing the first half of his class. he apologizes to the professor, earning a harsh scolding. “i’m so sorry, can i still do the exam please ?” “it’s your time, not mine,” she rolls her eyes, handing him a copy of the test and a scantron. he exhales in relief, sitting down at his seat. he takes a deep breath, putting his pencil to the paper.

grades are put into the system almost as soon as class ends. chul fails the test horribly. not barely, horribly. he got a 15 on it, the worst he’s ever done on anything. it’s so bad he even agrees to have lunch with his friends, anything to try and cheer himself up. but all his friends seem to ask him about is how his family is doing. before you debuted, he had commented to his friends that his little sister was going to be in a kpop group, a mistake he now realizes.

“we’re fine,” chul bites into his sandwich, one his friend had bought him a few minutes ago. “bro if you ever need our help, we’re here for you,” his friend with glasses says as the others nod. “have you, you know, been online lately ?” his other friend with dyed hair asks, earning a shove from chul’s favorite gym bro. “i don’t like reading any of that shit, just jobless nobodies saying shit about my sister,” chul shakes his head.

“that’s good man, i seen a lot of shit a-and i don’t think your sister was like that but like i don’t know people be talking,” dyed hair rambles on. chul ignores him, not wanting to continue talking about you. “do you think talking about her will do you some good ?” glasses asks in a softer tone. “if he doesn’t want to talk about her then let’s not force him,” gym bro comes to chul’s defense. chul gives him a small smile before looking back at his sandwich.

quiet fills the table until dyed hair breaks it with a scoff. “i’m sorry but i have to talk about it, your mom’s out there protesting that nothing is being done for your missing sister but you don’t want to talk about it ? instead of defending her ? do you know what people are saying about her ? that she ran away, not to mention they’re also saying she was the yoko ono of the group-” chul stands up, chair scraping against the floor.

“shut your fucking mouth.” chul warns his friend, the others shocked by his sudden demeanor. “just because your girlfriend goes out and fucks a new guy every weekend doesn’t mean my sister was like that. what do you want me to say huh ? oh i think my sister got kidnapped ! oh i think my sister might have been trafficked ! oh i think my sister might be dead ! it’s been three fucking months and i know nothing, she’s all i think about !” chul’s voice breaks at the end.

“and from what it seems, you don’t know anything about me, let alone my sister so the next time you say anything about her, i’ll beat you to a pulp,” chul warned dyed hair before grabbing his backpack and leaving the cafeteria. no one calls out for him or chases to stop him, not that he was expecting that to begin with. he soon leaves campus, jittery and overwhelmed. chul can feel tears brim his eyes, vision becoming blurry.

as soon as he’s off school grounds, he dumps his backpack out. pencils, notebooks, folders, even his laptop falling onto concrete ground. he frantically reaches his hand into his bag, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. he’s hyperventilating at this point, on the brink of having a panic attack. fuck being sober, fuck anything and everything. he puts the cigarette between his lips, lighter shaking in his hand as he lights it.

the first drag burns his lungs, almost like the first time he smoked. in 10 seconds, his heart rate and breathing slow down. but even when chul releases the smoke from his mouth, the ache in his soul and tears in his eyes don’t disappear, it only makes things worse. he thinks of you and how angry you would be at him right now. he reaches for his phone, trembling fingers scrolling through his contacts, pressing to call.

“martin,” chul’s voice is wobbly as the younger boy answers the phone almost immediately. “hey what’s wrong ?” martin asks, hearing quiet sniffling on the other hand. “i know that you might be busy but i really need to talk to you,” chul cries into the phone. “i’m on break, i have to go back soon but what happened ?” “today’s y/n’s three months since she went missing and everyone’s just talking about her like she’s gone forever and i don’t know what to do anymore, i just fucking smoked after quitting for three years,” he sobs, cigarette burning between his fingers.

“and you of all people know y/n wouldn’t have ran away,” he continues tethering between anger and heartbreak. when chul allows martin to talk, martin is silent to the point where chul think the call ended. “hello ?” “i’m sorry chul, i…i can’t say much, i…” chul doesn’t know why martin is responding so weirdly. “what are you saying ?” “i-i’m saying that i don’t know, everything’s just so…confusing- i’m sorry i have to go, i need to get back to practice,” martin cuts the conversation short.

“what ?” chul asks, softly hiccuping. “i put in the money for your mom’s medication, i’m sorry i can’t say anymore, bye,” before chul can respond, martin hangs up. chul looks down at his phone, “thanks anyway,” he mumbles to himself, tears running down his face. this isn’t the boy you talked so positively about. this isn’t the boy he’s known since martin was 12. chul can’t recognize martin anymore, the real martin would have fought for you.

that night, hyeok-jin stares at the papers in front of him, heart thumping against his ribs. the numbers didn’t add up. mixing or falsified tax records. training expenses that never existed or seemed exaggerated. payments to shell companies. contracts rewritten after signatures had been made. he was right, there was more than what meets the eyes, there’s years of fraud. how has no one noticed this ? …did they ever notice this ? his discovery is soon cut short when he hears running footsteps down the hall.

he snaps his head to the side, seeing multiple officers dashing. “detective kang !” officer kim sprints into the room. “you need to come with us right now,” she looks completely out of breath. “what happened, what’s going on ?!” his stomach drops as he gets up from his seat. “one of the cortis members…he had an accident,” she struggles to catch her breath. hyeok-jin’s confused, what does that have to do with him ?

“i mean is he okay ? but i’m not a cop so why do i-” “that’s not the reason why you have to come along,” she interrupts him. “we found y/n.” hyeok-jin freezes, eyes widening, “found ?” his friend nods. so many thoughts cross his mind yet he can only ask one question. “is she alive ?” his voice comes out quieter than intended. officer kim looks at him, her parted lips let out an exhale before pressing into a thin line.

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[ponyoswrld]

snoozing away ⋆₊˚ murata fuma

synopsis: sleep comes easily for murata fuma, anywhere anytime. unless he's with you. in that case, he'd rather cling to you like glue fighting the urge to snooze away, even if he really needs to genre: fuma x gn!reader, fluff, suggestive, established relationship cw: cursing, sleepy clingy fuma, heavy kissing, suggestive, teasing ⋆ wc: 1.9k a/n: this was supposed to be for fuma's bday but its late ehe. either way, i just had to write this cuz look how cute he is!!! wanna hold his cheeks and let him sleep. want him, love him. also first time i actually went under the expected wc, woooo!! okii enjoy the fic yall (^ヮ^) -> please don't copy or translate ~^^

it was peaceful; the living room dimly lit despite the floor lamps illuminating the organized space. inhale, exhale. walls decorated with accidental scuffs and silly photos of friends, family, and your precious boyfriend. you wrapped the knitted blanket around yourself a tad tighter as the air-conditioning quietly hummed, exhaling a chilled breeze to circulate around the shared area. the room was your sanctuary.

thump.

your head shook, mouth slipping out a small chuckle at the light sound. how long does he plan to keep this up? the day had long since crept into the late night, clock hands nearing the numbers eleven and six, soon to be eleven-thirty.

“he knows he’s overdue on sleep yet he’d rather play games first? unbelievable,” you faintly whispered, eyes finally drifting away from the small words on your book to steady on the figure in the opposing chair. you smiled. there sat a very sleepy fuma, recently dyed bangs falling gently over his eyes, head lightly nodding down every few minutes before bobbing back up as if nothing happened. his mouth hung the slightest bit open, soft sighs slipping from his pouty, blush tinted lips as his body relaxed against the cozy material of your furniture. every last bit of his being radiated this drowsy air that he just refused to accept.

thump.

you stifled a short giggle as you watched his expression turn to a frown for a split second before relaxing back into place. something about the way he tried to fight against the temptation of sleep, restraining himself from giving in was laughable, a surprisingly wholesome sight.

an indescribable warmth filled your heart. being in a relationship with fuma, you weren’t one to argue with how and who he spent his spare time with. he’s a grown adult with a full-time career doing what he loves with who he loves. there was no reason to be mad about something like that, especially when, despite his hectic schedules, he still found time to spare and share it with you.

so whether he spent his free time with you catching up on each other’s day, his members sharing silly stories and laughs, his family bonding over a home cooked meal or by himself opening another set of pokémon cards as he waited for his game to load, you respected all of it like he did with yours… however, there was only so much you could tolerate.

thump.

“okay, that’s it. let’s get you to bed,” you chuckled, pushing yourself up with the blanket still wrapped tightly around your body. his eyes fluttered open at the sound of his phone falling for the nth time today. he reached down to pick the device off the floor, screen still glowing bright with the settings function popped up mid-game. his thumb must’ve clicked it by accident.

“i’m fine,” he rebutted, hand moving to cover up his mouth, face contorting to suppress the yawn that wanted so badly to make itself known. “swear ‘m not tired yet.” an obvious lie.

fingers slipped into his hair running through the soft strands that framed his tired face. tears brimmed the lower lashline, the apples of his cheeks dusted with pale hue of pink, yet more signs of his fatigue taking over. staring directly at him with an unwavering stare, you deadpanned, “fuma, honey, you dropped your phone because you’re falling asleep.”

“was an accident,” he mumbled quietly, voice barely audible even in the muted room.

“really? which time?”

“...well–”

“i personally lost count after the third drop. you?” your strict tone cutting through the silence made him pause from talking back. he knew you were right. the side of his mouth ticked upwards, a breathy sigh leaving his tongue as your fingers traced down the side of his face, curling under his chin with a firm hold. “come on.”

the natural flush of his cheeks climbed up to the tips of his ears, embarrassed from the way you caught him in a clear lie and shy at how easily you took charge of his carefree self. fuck, they’re so hot like this. seeing you all determined and reliable wasn’t a new sight, but with him usually taking the lead out of his natural instinct, it sure as hell wasn’t a sight he saw often.

he wanted to argue, get you to back down, but… if me refusing to sleep causes them to act more dominating over me, you can sign me right up. truly an unfair experience. the power you had over him with every little action you made was unbelievable.

“fuma,” your hand reached out towards him, face automatically smiling as he immediately obeyed, placing his hand in yours. the heat of his palms blended into your own, the pad of his thumb grazing over the texture of your skin as if he were trying to commit it to memory. so uniquely you.

with a groan he pushed himself up: 10% because you tugged him upwards and 90% because he planted his feet on the ground to make it easier for you. practically a team effort. without warning, fuma flopped against your figure, heavy arms wrapping itself around your neck as he leaned the majority of his weight on you. naturally, he closed his eyes once again in tiredness. what a cute yet inconvenient way of thanking you.

“ugh, fuu. this is what i get for caring about your health,” you whined and pushed back, face scrunching up to get some of his weight off you. “you’re welcome by the way.”

he shook his head, burying his head by the crook of your neck. god, even with your small comments, every day he fell more and more for you. “mhmm. thank you, pretty.” voice a low hum with a grin proudly deepening as soon as he saw his words take effect. he waited but you didn't answer, so he leaned up to your cheek and planted a gentle peck. flustered stutters slipped as he pulled back satisfied at his small act of love. so cute.

before he could do anything else heart flustering, you wrapped your own arms around him, slowly moving your joint bodies towards the bedroom with the occasional grumbles. “for someone who just said they weren’t all that tired, where’s that awake energy gone?” at this point, you were practically dragging his feet along the floor.

you turned and pulled his arms from your neck, watching fuma plop onto the bed with a sleepy smile. “it went into loving you,” he bluntly stated, legs spreading just slightly, encasing you in his muscular arms before resting his head on your stomach in comfort.

“ugh, shut it.” you cringed, shutting your eyes in disgust making a sound of disapproval as you felt his laughter rumble over your stomach. it annoyed you how he knew even the cheesiest words sounded like honeyed compliments in your ears. “you definitely need to sleep after that.”

before you could even take a step back, his grip around you tightened, shoulders stiffening to the touch. “fuma?”

“don’t wan’ you to go.”

“my love, i have to clean up the living room. i’ll join you later.” gently, you placed a hand atop of his head, stroking the smooth strands of dyed hair while you allowed him to pull you closer. “you can sleep with eevee for now while i finish the dishes, right?”

your eyes drifted over to the side, a particularly shaped object catching your attention. a small eevee plush resting among the collection of other pokémon related pillows, plushies, and merchandise that he adorned your room in. the sight of the item drew a smile from your face, heart softening at the darling memory of him fanboying at you finally sharing an interest in his adorably, partially nerdy passions.

he pressed a delicate kiss on your stomach, the cotton fabric of your (his) shirt doing nothing to stop the warmth of his plush lips from seeping through. one by above you bellybutton, another nearing the side of your waist, then another just under your ribcage. with each brush of his mouth across your body, you couldn’t help it; melting in his hold until you slowly sank yourself to straddle his lap, arms enveloping you as you both acknowledged that he won this battle.

he stared at you for a beat longer, shaking his head in response. “it isn’t the same, is it pretty?” his hands rested on your hips massaging the fat that covered the pelvic bone, whispering sweet nothings about how good you looked. that’s when you felt it, that pounding pulse that stretched over your chest, the lull atmosphere of the late night making you give in to his wishes.

“i want you tonight. please stay with me.”

slowly, he placed a hand at the back of your neck, pulling you down, closer into his hold. and before you could get a word in, his lips pressed against yours. kissing you with the utmost care, perfectly slotting between your own as you sighed into it. “please,” he begged as your hand tangled in his hair, tugging his head up so you could deepen the kiss.

holds tight, almost like each one was afraid of losing the other. you rested a hand over his chest, the erratic thumping of his heart slowing down to match the rhythm of your own breathing. his teeth nibbled on the swollen skin of your lips, slipping his tongue. every sigh, kiss, whimper that he ripped from your throat, his eyes further squeezed shut at the melody ringing in his ears, tempted to suck on the tip of your tongue to draw out another sweet sound. a shaky and weak groan left his lips, pulling back to rest his forehead against your own as you both caught your breath.

the corners of his mouth twitched into a smirk seeing a string of saliva split, falling over your slick lips. his thumb carefully swiped over the clear fluid, popping the spit-covered thumb into his own mouth, tongue grazing the pad with a satisfied sigh. “you can do that. can’t you, pretty?” he asked, tired voice sounding deep and raspy while he played with the hem of your shirt.

you absentmindedly nodded, head in a daze from his kiss. his lips moved to litter pecks across any area exposed, sucking flushed marks at the skin by your neck. with every moment that passed, all the tension in your body melted away, dissolving into his warmth. “come now.”

his arms soon picked you up, body feeling weightless in his hold, soon settling the both of you under the thick, cozy sheets. you shimmied yourself into his warm embrace, grinning in delight as the sound of his light chuckle reached your ears. “thank you for caring, pretty.” he mumbled, exhaustion and heavy eyelids finally taking over.

the sight of him, thoughts coming to a rest with his mind drawing into a peaceful slumber, made your heart flutter. eyelashes casting long shadows over the top of his cheeks, lips kissed swollen parting with each exhale, slim fingers and calloused palm clinging to yours as, even in a deep slumber, he refused to let you go.

words stuck in your throat, too nervous to speak at the chance of disturbing him from a much needed rest. awake or not, he was beyond beautiful in your eyes.

“good night, my love. sleep tight.”

taglist: @hironoshimura -> asked: @dorlithesweetest

© ponyoswrld 2026. ⋆₊˚ send me requests/asks here

[wooyos]

hongjoong in 'john park's small talk'

[eu4mi]

➪ you disappear hours after a concert, your family reports you missing but the company states that you left voluntarily. nothing makes sense. all anyone can ask is, where are you ?

➪ “i fucking hate how people talk about you, acting like you weren't our best friend” - e.m. part one.

i. IT’S JUST A SHAME, THAT'S ALL

you disappear hours after a concert, your family reports you missing but the company states that you left voluntarily. cctv shows differently. nothing makes sense, especially with everyone moving on so fast.

ii. IT’S JUST A SHAME, THAT’S ALL — THROUGH THE LENS OF MARTIN

martin's seen you time and time again get smart with staff, it's no wonder that something was bound to happen, at least in his opinion.

iii. IT’S JUST A SHAME, THAT’S ALL — THROUGH THE LENS OF CORTIS

continuation to part one and part two. cortis tries their best to continue living normal lives without the core part of their group. can they manage without you ?

ijasta taglist one : @httpsbarsbymars @skyeincc @leehansglubblub @elmistay @oribby @2bamgyu @trsh-kitty @janjoonty @kabekusa @vanilladictator @kozumekenma55-blog @anglheartz @sillypicklepastaperson-blog @hironosushiis @autumnbellflower @snow0-0fairy @mrssuna @bakupakuu @lazyloverblaze @cortisen5 @justwanttoreadfics @joannakoll @yvalrik @azywhwa @pantone-12-1310 @abbyyprofenn @evaflms @seonghwabb @ghostgirlgone27 @mmspaghetti @pearthesimp @jixcd @samsung-67 @mokkicchi @mikauraurr @kallistaki12 @sunshine-sun42 @biscuitjuice @lilbieberr @eiannie @dedlexte @kanieknowsball @prongsisdaddy @chaosbunn1 @skyeincc @coconhovr @narcissanarcissa @ranlys @amouriities @snowflakemoon3

ijasta taglist two : @amouriities @snowflakemoon3 @wonheeloves @x0621 @reahwritesletters @stxr-lilac @sapphireserpens @lilbieberr @gxwon-ddxrori @jene11 @pxronbeat1 @ri-eveowe @ijustchokeonacaii @naomisaikko @soobieboobiee553 @wovenjinxterminus @ssaniyaa @tinybitofhope @kismetute @zooweemimi @msarbuz @laartistaroja @rikiswaifuu @nafnaiden000

taglist is open. i didn’t include my general taglist and cortis taglist because then it’d be like four different lists but trust, you guys WILL be tagged too, don’t worry.

[jyuugoyasmine]

ICED AMERICANO

KOGA YUDAI X F!READER sm!au

Every staff member at Big Suki café has a reason to come to work every day…except for y/n. That is until a new, handsome face amongst the regulars appears one day, leading her to almost beg for shifts just to catch a glimpse of him once again.

★ fluff, crack, suggestive content

Status: ongoing!

Taglist open☆〜

M.list

profiles.

ch.1 #notmymanager

ch.2 more like big sucky

ch.3 the sexist man

ch.4 𝖎 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖈𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚

ch.5 old lady ahh

ch.6 hi srs

ch.7 taki bday :)

ch.8 boyfriend duties

ch.9 gotta catch em all

ch.10 running thru my mind

ch.11 a little decorum

ch.12 too late

ch.13 one popcorn

ch. 14 lucky y/n

Do not copy my work/translate!

@/jyuugoyasmine

☆〜 @minhosimthings @makizdoll @luvlittlem @ateez-atiny380 @madheeeee @takiwhereareyou @sunsoomi @httpenhoon @nichozzystuffs @yejisair777 @w1sh-full @jazzy-304 @urmomsfavlesb @salvaltor @nctspersonaltherapist @ssosstrange @loversfiield @fumaid @amzjungwonnnnn @ikeunno @urmotherlvr @yvalrik @sailorinthesie @aspinny @naughtykatherine @wivfleur @ambsphoria @kjjupilled @nahyuckers @alishaa3 @andteamlunesstuff @kvinksyy

[egoistshye]

seonghwa and mingi covering troublemaker 260717 cr. 사과해요산우영

[egoistshye]

seonghwa and mingi covering troublemaker 260717 cr. 사과해요산우영

[egoistshye]

seonghwa and mingi covering troublemaker 260717 cr. 사과해요산우영

[eu4mi]

IT’S JUST A SHAME, THAT’S ALL — THROUGH THE LENS OF CORTIS

➪ pairing : ot5 cortis x 6th member reader

➪ summary : a continuation to part one and part two. cortis tries their best to continue living normal lives without the core part of their group. can they manage without you ?

➪ other notes : my god this part drove me insane. i like it overall and oh my days you guys are so funny in the comments, i love yall. any asks pertaining to part two will be answered later, very sleepy rn, gn everyone, enjoy :))) and creds to @/martiny.e , @/cortis.mp3 , and @/sa7easoee on tiktok for the analog horror imagery.

keonho stares down at his phone, sighing as he sends you another text. it’s been three months since you’ve “disappeared” and you still haven’t answered a single message. this isn’t like you at all, you wouldn’t just up and leave everything and everyone behind. guilt writhes in his stomach every time he thinks of the cctv. if you quit, maybe he could have talked you out of it. and if something else happened ? …he would have stopped it.

james tries to piece everything together but nothing makes sense. you left the group without any reason to, and yet the cctv shows differently. the company said something else. and the more he thinks about it, every conclusion leads to five questions. as the oldest, he tries to shoulder everyone’s emotional burden. but what about him ? how can he rest when questions continuously fill his mind. you would have been there to help him.

juhoon took it the hardest. you were the first person who accepted him into the group without hesitation, and in a blink of an eye, you’re just gone ? even though he has four other people to rely on, he feels so incredibly lonely without you, without his twin flame. there’s many nights where he silently cries himself to sleep. and with every day that passes, the pit in his stomach only gets deeper.

seonghyeon feels like a swan without its cygnet. even though you were older than him, he tried his best to take care of you no matter what. he always wanted a big sister, and at some point you became that. he still buys your favorite snacks from the corner store you always complained smelled like ass. he just can’t figure out if you miss them too. if you do, then why do you never answer the phone ?

about two months ago, staff came in and took all of your things. they ripped your bedsheets off of the company’s bed, something keonho tried his best to fight, which only earned him a harsh scolding. your notebooks that were alphabetically placed in the shelf above your bed were all trashed, your thoughts, ideas, and feelings going with them too. most of your clothes were shoved into storage boxes before staff labeled them as ‘emergency.’

“what the fuck are they doing,” seonghyeon curses outside of the dorm, biting his nails. “they’re taking her stuff…all of it, they’re acting like she never lived here,” keonho frowns. juhoon stays quiet, his fists clenching repeatedly. james tries to reason with the situation, “what if they’re just storing it until y/n comes back for it ?” he winces at his own words, what kind of explanation is that ? “that’s bullshit and you know it,” seonghyeon snaps.

“everything’s in those books,” juhoon finally speaks up. “she wrote songs in those, y/n would want to keep all of them,” he continues, looking away from the open front door of the dorm. “something’s wrong, i-“ “okay that’s enough,” martin claps his hands and interrupts. “guys i know this has all been hard for us but the company already said y/n left and we…have to understand that,” martin becomes the voice of reason.

“y/n never answers my texts, i just want to know if she’s okay,” keonho whispers, voice cracking at the end. “let’s just give her as much space as she needs, i’m sure she’s trying to keep a low profile for a while,” martin reassures him, a wobbly smile forming on his face. “that’s not who y/n is, she would have at least told us.” a scowl forms on seonghyeon’s face.

james sighs, he obviously doesn’t agree with any of this but he’s also unable to do anything. about an hour later, everything that represented you, was now suddenly gone. the empty space only grew. the mug that james uses every morning before practice. the clothes that seonghyeon ‘accidentally’ stole from your side of the closet room. the bed that keonho laid on when he missed you. the presence that juhoon longed for every day.

when james glances over to martin, the taller boy is just staring ahead. a smile is on his face but there’s no real emotion behind it. as much as james hates to admit it, martin’s been weird. not his typical weird, a weird that james has been logging for the past month. his rushed explanation for how he left you alone to go to the bathroom the day everything happened. the way he reacts when someone mentions you.

the way martin has continuously gotten snappier after you disappeared. there’s just something…odd about him. james hates himself for entertaining a darker idea of involvement. because how can he even think of pointing the finger at martin ? martin isn’t like that, if anything, he’d blame himself for going to the bathroom instead of just going with you to the corner store. martin cares about you. he loves you.

present day, the dorm becomes more glum as days pass. the boys are good coworkers, they hype each other up during dance and vocal practice. they put on a happy face for the camera whenever they film vlogs. they continue to work as just five. but as soon as the dorm’s door shuts closed, silence fills the air. martin really tries to get everyone to hang out, maybe watch a movie, play games, do anything. it never works.

between james and juhoon, juhoon tends to take the first shower as james cools down in their room. keonho and seonghyeon play around before they retire for the night. to martin, it feels like everyone has their duo except him. he’s lonely and he hates it. with no one to hang out with, martin starts walking around at night right before midnight. hoodie over his head, a face mask on, gaze tilted to the ground.

every time he goes out, he ends up in the same place. the fence behind that one thai restaurant you used to love. he never goes in, he just leans against the fence and looks up at the moon, wondering if you’re also thinking of him. despite what happened, martin loves you and he likes to think that deep down, you’d still love him too. but that’s just what he believes, it’s the only way he can sleep at night…

one night, juhoon wakes up at around three in the morning. he tosses and turns but nothing works. with a frustrated sigh, he sits up, staring into the darkness. across the room, james is sleeping peacefully, juhoon envies him. with no way to sleep again, juhoon quietly gets up and heads for the living room. since you disappeared off the face of the earth, someone has started leaving the light on, no matter the time.

no one admits to it but juhoon has a sneaking suspicion it’s james. he even heard him say under his breath “just in case y/n comes back.” whatever the reason may be, no one turns it off. juhoon flops on top of the couch, grabbing the remote. he immediately clicks on netflix, grip tightening when he notices your profile isn’t on there anymore. did the company delete it ? isn’t that a little too much ?

he huffs, clicking his own profile. he flips through various movies and shows before stopping at one, when life gives you tangerines. your favorite show, the same one you watched with juhoon when it first came out. he remembers holding back tears whilst you cried like a baby in every episode. juhoon presses on it, leaning back against the couch as the soft melody of the opening theme starts.

but even before it can finish, he closes his eyes. it felt almost like a spell, luring him to sleep. it’s weird, he never felt sleepy when you guys watched it. but his grip on the control loosens before he falls into the arms of slumber. his dream is just a flash of different pastel colors, muffled voices, and some visible faces. he dreams that the six of you go feed ducks but his feet end up turning into duck feet.

everyone fades out except for just you and him. you’re laughing so hard that you pee on yourself. you end up crying and when juhoon goes to comfort you, he tumbles over himself with his new feet. your laugh returns as he falls face first into the ground. he can’t help but laugh too but then, your laughter just stops. he looks up at you from the ground, you’re not there anymore. where’d you go ? in real life, juhoon’s eyelids flutter, catching small glimpses of his blurry surroundings.

he squints at the bright tv screen, blinding colors enough to make him look away. his vision keeps drifting in and out of focus until it lands to something motionless. martin is already standing in the hallway. just watching him. “shit,” juhoon curses, jolting himself completely awake. his eyes go wide, heart immediately accelerating. “oh sorry,” martin apologizes, walking closer. “how long were you standing there ?” juhoon rubs his eyes.

“only like five seconds,” martin answers, a gentle smile forming on his face. “i thought i heard the tv and wondered if someone forgot to turn it off so i just came to check,” he explains himself, pointing at the tv. “oh…okay…” juhoon rubs his eyes, he knows of martin’s nightly walks and sleep problems, it makes sense. “go back to bed, maybe you can sleep again,” martin encourages him. “yeah, i’m going,” juhoon mumbles, grabbing the tv remote.

he pauses when life gives you tangerines, noticing it’s only been 12 minutes since the episode started. juhoon’s barely been on the couch, did martin really just arrive right now ? juhoon shakes off any thoughts, turning off the tv before walking away. martin follows behind him, turning off the living room light. “oh leave it on,” juhoon stops in his tracks, pointing to the light switch. “why ?” martin raises an eyebrow.

“i- i don’t know, just in case, you know, y/n comes at the crack of dawn or something,” juhoon shrugs. martin pauses before sighing “if you say so.” he passes by juhoon, going into the bathroom. juhoon swears he saw martin roll his eyes, it can’t just be his imagination. but with nothing else to do, he returns to his and james’ room. he quietly pushes the door open before shutting it closed.

james stirs, making juhoon wince, he didn’t mean to wake james up. but juhoon takes advantage of this moment, “james ?” he whispers. james hums, turning over to face juhoon. “can i talk to you about something ? hasn’t martin been weird-“ james suddenly pressed a finger to his lips. juhoon albeit confused, stops talking. james lifts his finger and points at the gap underneath the door. juhoon faces towards where his older friend is pointing.

the shadow of a pair of feet. not moving, just standing on the other side of the door. juhoon feels his heart skip a beat, waiting to breathe. eventually, a small shuffle can be heard before the pair of feet are no longer in sight. juhoon exhales, chest hurting. “was that ?” james nods. “he’s been doing that a lot lately, just making rounds around the dorm,” james bites his lip, obviously disturbed. juhoon realizes that maybe an eye roll isn’t must to report on.

a few days later, the five of them are in a practice room. there’s not much going on so seonghyeon decided to mirror his phone the projector screen. “oh my god bro delete that !” james laughs at an embarrassing picture of him sleeping with his eyes open. juhoon chuckles at the selfies he took on seonghyeon’s phone. keonho keeps trying to take seonghyeon’s phone, wanting to scroll through the whole gallery. martin watches his friends, happy that they’re smiling.

eventually seonghyeon clicks on an old dance practice video. you’re falling asleep standing up, only taking one little stumble, keonho’s giggles can be heard in the background. “i remember y/n swore she was just resting her eyes,” james smiles at the video. “she needs a good sleep schedule, all of us do,” juhoon adds. “guys can we stop talking about y/n ?” martin interrupts everyone. seonghyeon turns back to face him, “why ?”

“because it makes me uncomfortable,” martin shakes his head. “but why ?” “because it feels like every conversation we have leads back to y/n, it’s already been three months,” martin lets out a frustrated sigh. “three months is nothing compared to years of friendship, y/n’s our best friend and nothing is going to take that away,” seonghyeon scoffs, disconnecting his phone from the projector.

“y/n was my best friend too, and i loved her a lot, but even i have to admit she wasn’t a saint,” martin twists the subject. “what are you talking about ?” juhoon joins the conversation, now baffled. “it’s like…we talk about something, it leads to y/n, and then we talk about how amazing she was without acknowledging the times she made our lives hard,” martin explains himself. “what times ?” james asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“she argued with everyone, are you guys forgetting that ?” martin insists, thinking everyone’s had amnesia. “no she didn’t,” keonho defends you. “she literally did, it was always y/n starting arguments with staff,” martin throws his hands into the air. “no she didn’t martin, she never started anything, yes she argued when we were being treated unfairly but y/n wasn’t…aggressive.” james shakes his head, confused by what martin is getting at.

“and what about the time she got into a physical fight with our choreographer ?” martin doubles down. “are you forgetting the times he’s hit her ?” seonghyeon makes a face at martin. “you’re remembering her wrong,” juhoon states but it only makes martin roll his eyes. “am i ?” he sarcastically laughs. “yeah, because none of the things you described represents y/n.” keonho answers without hesitation. “sure, disregard me like you guys always do,” martin ends the conversation, leaving the practice room.

about a week later, keonho groans when he opens the fridge, a whole lotta nothing. “there’s never anything in here !” he slams it closed. “there is, you just don’t want to cook,” juhoon says, mixing in a flavor packet into his buldak noodles. “do you want me to make you something ?” seonghyeon’s standing over the stove, making a few fried eggs. “no, i miss y/n’s cooking, your food tastes like ass,” keonho makes a disgusted face.

“you still eat it though,” seonghyeon gives him a look. keonho pouts, opening the fridge again. “nothing’s going to magically appear keonho,” james shimmies behind him to sit on the counter. “i’m so hungry,” keonho whines, almost ready to throw a tantrum. “well how about we order takeout,” martin enters the kitchen. “first time you have a good idea,” keonho immediately agrees with martin.

“what’s everyone in the mood for ?” james asks the busy kitchen. “well i was the first hungry one, so i say thai food,” keonho nominates. “ugh no i’m tired of thai food,” martin rolls his eyes, earning a side eye from junoon. “we haven’t eaten it in months, i’m down for some thai,” seonghyeon ignores martin’s complaints. “so am i,” juhoon agrees. “anything’s good for me,” james shrugs, leaving martin the odd one out.

“so my opinion is worth nothing ?” martin frowns, crossing his arms. “ummm it’s 4/5, and if y/n was here, it’d be 5/6, democracy wins, sorry mr dictator,” keonho teases him. “this shit is so unfair…” but no matter what their leader says, the boys still order thai food. once it arrives, it smells like heaven on earth. they crack the lids open on every container, some food even spilling out. soon enough, things settle down, food filling their mouths instead of words.

james suddenly snorts, earning weird looks from his friends. “sorry i just remembered the time martin ordered kebab and everyone was ready to jump him but y/n said she’d eat our portions even though she hates it, just to make martin feel better,” he shakes his head as seonghyeon and keonho snicker. juhoon smirks, shoving some food into his mouth.

martin groans, rolling his eyes. “you guys might hate me but y/n was always my right hand, she was funny,” he laughs. “you mean is,” keonho corrects him. martin looks at him, nodding, “yeah, is, that’s what i said.” “no you didn’t,” seonghyeon shakes his head. “okay is this ‘ride martin’s ass as hard you can’ week or what ?” martin drops his chopsticks angrily. “they were just correcting you martin,” james tries to defuse the situation.

“no it’s not correcting me because y/n’s gone, she’s not here and she’s not coming back,” martin angrily states. “how the fuck would you know ?” seonghyeon points his chopsticks at his leader. “because…because, i just know,” martin shrugs, attempting to calm himself down. “what does that mean ?” keonho pries. “it means that she left and that she left us, can we just stop talking about this ?” martin pushes away his bowl.

“martin, i think it’s good that we talk about y/n,” james looks at him. “no hyung, it’s not, it’s so…not good and it’s been three months so can we let the y/n topic go already ?” martin frustratedly runs his hand through his hair. “she’s not a topic, she’s a person who was our best friend since we were both 12 and lived with us,” seonghyeon furrows his eyebrows. “exactly, so why are you acting like talking about her is a crime ?!” keonho supports his maknae duo.

martin scoffs, feeling cornered, “because nothing is going to change regardless and…” he trails off, not finishing his sentence. “says who ?” seonghyeon challenges him. “says me, okay ?” the room becomes quiet, food long forgotten. with a shaky sigh, james speaks up, voice trembling as he does so. “martin, do you know something about y/n that we don’t ?”

the only thing that can be heard for the next few seconds is the whirring of the AC. “do you think i do ?” martin asks james, no malicious tone behind his words. james hesitates, this isn’t something he can turn back on, an accusation so grave. and yet, he admits it. “yeah, i think you do.” juhoon, seonghyeon, and keonho snap their heads to james, confused, shocked, and in disbelief. martin’s gaze turns to his unfinished food, making him nauseous.

martin doesn’t know how to answer. he knows he can lie, he knows that but at this point, would it mean anything ? “martin ?” james asks again. martin keeps staring at his food, unable to face anyone. “bro are you good ?” seonghyeon‘s voice wobbles. “did something happen that night ?” keonho asks and it’s martin’s final straw. his shoulders shake as he starts crying, tears dropping onto the table. “i…” he starts but he’s unable to finish before he hiccups out a sob.

james leans forward in his seat, “martin, i need you to tell us the truth, did something happen to y/n that night ?” martin squeezes his eyes shut, lip quivering. “…yeah.” for a second, nobody reacts, nobody says anything, nobody breathes. “what ?” a lump forms in seonghyeon’s throat. “i…i can’t…i tried…i didn’t,” his hands go up to his hair, tugging at it harshly. “did you do something ?” keonho whispers, martin immediately shakes his head.

“not me…” martin mumbles, starting to sit straight in his seat. “then who ?” james pressures him, making martin cry even harder. “them, the company, everyone knew,” everyone stiffens, martin’s known something for three months, and still said nothing ?! “did you know something was going to happen ?” james continues, attempting his best to remain his cool. martin nods, “but i…i t-tried to warn her b-before the concert.”

“warn her about what ?” seonghyeon slams his fist against the table, making martin flinch. “that they were going to take her away,” martin rushes his explanation. “take her where ?” keonho asks, chair scooting back with a loud scrape. “i don’t know, they didn’t tell me that !” martin sobs, becoming obviously overwhelmed by the swarm of questions. “is she okay ?” james asks, eyes full of worry. a pause comes as martin freezes “i don’t know…”

juhoon, who has been quiet this entire time asks a single question. “is she alive ?” martin finally looks up, meeting eyes with juhoon. “i don’t know…after it happened, they never said anything else,” martin’s eyes are full of remorse as juhoon’s eyes fill with anger. “what happened martin, after you left with her, what happened to her ?” juhoon’s voice rises, clearly tired of martin’s tears.

martin’s breathing becomes uneven, his vision becoming blurry. he can’t hide, he can’t run, he’s ruining everything. he wipes his snotty nose, realizing that the earth can’t just suck him whole into the ground. “i…i led her down to the parking garage…and i wanted her to leave…and i tried, i swear i tried to help her…but they saw us and she tried to run but they caught up to her…and just put her in the back of a van,” martin blurts out, ending his statement with a suffocated gasp.

nobody says anything. james covers his mouth in shock, seonghyeon stares at martin in disbelief, keonho looks down at his trembling hands, and juhoon shakes his head, tears filling his eyes. “so she’s just gone ?” keonho looks up, breaking the silence despite being scared of the answer. “i don’t know,” martin whispers. “stop fucking saying that, you were the last person who saw her !” seonghyeon’s voice breaks.

“i know ! don’t you think i feel guilty that i didn’t help her ?!” martin cries before realizing what he said, his eyes widening. “what do you mean you didn’t help her ? you could have helped her ?” james questions him, “no- i mean like, no i did-“ martin stumbles over his words, attempting to find a quick explanation, a way to defend himself. seonghyeon slams his hands on the table, “don’t you fucking lie to our faces martin, either tell us the truth or i swear to god-“

martin takes a deep breath, looking at his members one by one. an uncomfortable expression forms on his face before he closes his eyes. “none of you get it. i…i wanted to help, i swear i did, but i thought about the five of us, of our effort and hard work. and i realized that if one person could take the fall, we would be okay.” keonho scoffs in his face, “the five of us ? it’s either the six of us or none of us. why do you get to decide whats right for the group ?”

“because it’s my job as the leader to look out for the group keonho. i won’t allow anyone to hurt us,” martin tries to use his authority. “but you won’t protect us as individuals ? just the group’s reputation ?” seonghyeon bitterly laughs. “no, that’s not what i meant, i’m saying that instead of us getting ruined by someone, i chose the route where our hard work wouldn’t be just ripped away from us !”

“y/n is apart of us martin, she trusted you and you still didn’t protect her or even at least tell us,” james scolds him, face contorting into disgust. “what would that have done ? y/n is gone because it was a sacrifice the company and i had to make for the greater good.” martin reasons, now refusing to back down. “say that again,” juhoon stands up, hands clenched into fists. martin grinds his teeth, “it was for the greater good.”

with that, juhoon launches himself across the table, crashing straight into martin. martin falls back on his chair, thudding loudly on the floor. juhoon starts throwing punches into martin’s face. “you lied to us-“ punch “you lied to her mom” punch “you lied to the police” punch. “juhoon stop !” james pleads, attempting to pull him off of martin. seonghyeon and keonho almost immediately backed away from the scene, not knowing what to do.

“he fucking deserves it !” juhoon yells, feeling martin’s nose break under his knuckles. “s-sop phluse,” martin begs, spitting out blood, weakly thrashing from under juhoon. but juhoon only continues, grabbing martin’s collar to smash the back of his head onto the hardwood floor. “you let them do this to her, you fucking asshole !” juhoon screams, struggling against james’ grip. and suddenly- CRACK.

taglist one : @iconicallyher @cherrystays @spqrkles @btsgangleader @aaassshhhaaa @yunjiiin @myuekii @nota10butadefinite8 @cvntycapricornxx @mariyariririri @user6373738 @coquettegirlyenha @simplyangelixa @fayepz @emmaxdelicate @kpopsmutty69 @liove-madl @cortismoon @haru-reto @vanillakirstein @yatta-exe @dropitlowkey @coldpinguinsstuff @cortischronicles @staarflowerr @sweetbabysblog @bunniestial @vilihente @ludmiig @09zpzkeonnss @feljxx @prettygirlkiki @toasterlickerr @ratyrozz @wouldntyouliketoknowweatherboy @miasitta @fujiswn @hiitzstar @martinthisho @qeysss @amb4rluvs @meiisamotherbitch @lcvehyeon @unseenleylinesecret @rickyshensgirlfriend @anflowers11 @taelvvrzz @cookyland @hironosushiis @amethyystlvr

[eu4mi]

IT’S JUST A SHAME, THAT’S ALL — THROUGH THE LENS OF CORTIS

➪ pairing : ot5 cortis x 6th member reader

➪ summary : a continuation to part one and part two. cortis tries their best to continue living normal lives without the core part of their group. can they manage without you ?

➪ other notes : my god this part drove me insane. i like it overall and oh my days you guys are so funny in the comments, i love yall. any asks pertaining to part two will be answered later, very sleepy rn, gn everyone, enjoy :))) and creds to @/martiny.e , @/cortis.mp3 , and @/sa7easoee on tiktok for the analog horror imagery.

keonho stares down at his phone, sighing as he sends you another text. it’s been three months since you’ve “disappeared” and you still haven’t answered a single message. this isn’t like you at all, you wouldn’t just up and leave everything and everyone behind. guilt writhes in his stomach every time he thinks of the cctv. if you quit, maybe he could have talked you out of it. and if something else happened ? …he would have stopped it.

james tries to piece everything together but nothing makes sense. you left the group without any reason to, and yet the cctv shows differently. the company said something else. and the more he thinks about it, every conclusion leads to five questions. as the oldest, he tries to shoulder everyone’s emotional burden. but what about him ? how can he rest when questions continuously fill his mind. you would have been there to help him.

juhoon took it the hardest. you were the first person who accepted him into the group without hesitation, and in a blink of an eye, you’re just gone ? even though he has four other people to rely on, he feels so incredibly lonely without you, without his twin flame. there’s many nights where he silently cries himself to sleep. and with every day that passes, the pit in his stomach only gets deeper.

seonghyeon feels like a swan without its cygnet. even though you were older than him, he tried his best to take care of you no matter what. he always wanted a big sister, and at some point you became that. he still buys your favorite snacks from the corner store you always complained smelled like ass. he just can’t figure out if you miss them too. if you do, then why do you never answer the phone ?

about two months ago, staff came in and took all of your things. they ripped your bedsheets off of the company’s bed, something keonho tried his best to fight, which only earned him a harsh scolding. your notebooks that were alphabetically placed in the shelf above your bed were all trashed, your thoughts, ideas, and feelings going with them too. most of your clothes were shoved into storage boxes before staff labeled them as ‘emergency.’

“what the fuck are they doing,” seonghyeon curses outside of the dorm, biting his nails. “they’re taking her stuff…all of it, they’re acting like she never lived here,” keonho frowns. juhoon stays quiet, his fists clenching repeatedly. james tries to reason with the situation, “what if they’re just storing it until y/n comes back for it ?” he winces at his own words, what kind of explanation is that ? “that’s bullshit and you know it,” seonghyeon snaps.

“everything’s in those books,” juhoon finally speaks up. “she wrote songs in those, y/n would want to keep all of them,” he continues, looking away from the open front door of the dorm. “something’s wrong, i-“ “okay that’s enough,” martin claps his hands and interrupts. “guys i know this has all been hard for us but the company already said y/n left and we…have to understand that,” martin becomes the voice of reason.

“y/n never answers my texts, i just want to know if she’s okay,” keonho whispers, voice cracking at the end. “let’s just give her as much space as she needs, i’m sure she’s trying to keep a low profile for a while,” martin reassures him, a wobbly smile forming on his face. “that’s not who y/n is, she would have at least told us.” a scowl forms on seonghyeon’s face.

james sighs, he obviously doesn’t agree with any of this but he’s also unable to do anything. about an hour later, everything that represented you, was now suddenly gone. the empty space only grew. the mug that james uses every morning before practice. the clothes that seonghyeon ‘accidentally’ stole from your side of the closet room. the bed that keonho laid on when he missed you. the presence that juhoon longed for every day.

when james glances over to martin, the taller boy is just staring ahead. a smile is on his face but there’s no real emotion behind it. as much as james hates to admit it, martin’s been weird. not his typical weird, a weird that james has been logging for the past month. his rushed explanation for how he left you alone to go to the bathroom the day everything happened. the way he reacts when someone mentions you.

the way martin has continuously gotten snappier after you disappeared. there’s just something…odd about him. james hates himself for entertaining a darker idea of involvement. because how can he even think of pointing the finger at martin ? martin isn’t like that, if anything, he’d blame himself for going to the bathroom instead of just going with you to the corner store. martin cares about you. he loves you.

present day, the dorm becomes more glum as days pass. the boys are good coworkers, they hype each other up during dance and vocal practice. they put on a happy face for the camera whenever they film vlogs. they continue to work as just five. but as soon as the dorm’s door shuts closed, silence fills the air. martin really tries to get everyone to hang out, maybe watch a movie, play games, do anything. it never works.

between james and juhoon, juhoon tends to take the first shower as james cools down in their room. keonho and seonghyeon play around before they retire for the night. to martin, it feels like everyone has their duo except him. he’s lonely and he hates it. with no one to hang out with, martin starts walking around at night right before midnight. hoodie over his head, a face mask on, gaze tilted to the ground.

every time he goes out, he ends up in the same place. the fence behind that one thai restaurant you used to love. he never goes in, he just leans against the fence and looks up at the moon, wondering if you’re also thinking of him. despite what happened, martin loves you and he likes to think that deep down, you’d still love him too. but that’s just what he believes, it’s the only way he can sleep at night…

one night, juhoon wakes up at around three in the morning. he tosses and turns but nothing works. with a frustrated sigh, he sits up, staring into the darkness. across the room, james is sleeping peacefully, juhoon envies him. with no way to sleep again, juhoon quietly gets up and heads for the living room. since you disappeared off the face of the earth, someone has started leaving the light on, no matter the time.

no one admits to it but juhoon has a sneaking suspicion it’s james. he even heard him say under his breath “just in case y/n comes back.” whatever the reason may be, no one turns it off. juhoon flops on top of the couch, grabbing the remote. he immediately clicks on netflix, grip tightening when he notices your profile isn’t on there anymore. did the company delete it ? isn’t that a little too much ?

he huffs, clicking his own profile. he flips through various movies and shows before stopping at one, when life gives you tangerines. your favorite show, the same one you watched with juhoon when it first came out. he remembers holding back tears whilst you cried like a baby in every episode. juhoon presses on it, leaning back against the couch as the soft melody of the opening theme starts.

but even before it can finish, he closes his eyes. it felt almost like a spell, luring him to sleep. it’s weird, he never felt sleepy when you guys watched it. but his grip on the control loosens before he falls into the arms of slumber. his dream is just a flash of different pastel colors, muffled voices, and some visible faces. he dreams that the six of you go feed ducks but his feet end up turning into duck feet.

everyone fades out except for just you and him. you’re laughing so hard that you pee on yourself. you end up crying and when juhoon goes to comfort you, he tumbles over himself with his new feet. your laugh returns as he falls face first into the ground. he can’t help but laugh too but then, your laughter just stops. he looks up at you from the ground, you’re not there anymore. where’d you go ? in real life, juhoon’s eyelids flutter, catching small glimpses of his blurry surroundings.

he squints at the bright tv screen, blinding colors enough to make him look away. his vision keeps drifting in and out of focus until it lands to something motionless. martin is already standing in the hallway. just watching him. “shit,” juhoon curses, jolting himself completely awake. his eyes go wide, heart immediately accelerating. “oh sorry,” martin apologizes, walking closer. “how long were you standing there ?” juhoon rubs his eyes.

“only like five seconds,” martin answers, a gentle smile forming on his face. “i thought i heard the tv and wondered if someone forgot to turn it off so i just came to check,” he explains himself, pointing at the tv. “oh…okay…” juhoon rubs his eyes, he knows of martin’s nightly walks and sleep problems, it makes sense. “go back to bed, maybe you can sleep again,” martin encourages him. “yeah, i’m going,” juhoon mumbles, grabbing the tv remote.

he pauses when life gives you tangerines, noticing it’s only been 12 minutes since the episode started. juhoon’s barely been on the couch, did martin really just arrive right now ? juhoon shakes off any thoughts, turning off the tv before walking away. martin follows behind him, turning off the living room light. “oh leave it on,” juhoon stops in his tracks, pointing to the light switch. “why ?” martin raises an eyebrow.

“i- i don’t know, just in case, you know, y/n comes at the crack of dawn or something,” juhoon shrugs. martin pauses before sighing “if you say so.” he passes by juhoon, going into the bathroom. juhoon swears he saw martin roll his eyes, it can’t just be his imagination. but with nothing else to do, he returns to his and james’ room. he quietly pushes the door open before shutting it closed.

james stirs, making juhoon wince, he didn’t mean to wake james up. but juhoon takes advantage of this moment, “james ?” he whispers. james hums, turning over to face juhoon. “can i talk to you about something ? hasn’t martin been weird-“ james suddenly pressed a finger to his lips. juhoon albeit confused, stops talking. james lifts his finger and points at the gap underneath the door. juhoon faces towards where his older friend is pointing.

the shadow of a pair of feet. not moving, just standing on the other side of the door. juhoon feels his heart skip a beat, waiting to breathe. eventually, a small shuffle can be heard before the pair of feet are no longer in sight. juhoon exhales, chest hurting. “was that ?” james nods. “he’s been doing that a lot lately, just making rounds around the dorm,” james bites his lip, obviously disturbed. juhoon realizes that maybe an eye roll isn’t must to report on.

a few days later, the five of them are in a practice room. there’s not much going on so seonghyeon decided to mirror his phone the projector screen. “oh my god bro delete that !” james laughs at an embarrassing picture of him sleeping with his eyes open. juhoon chuckles at the selfies he took on seonghyeon’s phone. keonho keeps trying to take seonghyeon’s phone, wanting to scroll through the whole gallery. martin watches his friends, happy that they’re smiling.

eventually seonghyeon clicks on an old dance practice video. you’re falling asleep standing up, only taking one little stumble, keonho’s giggles can be heard in the background. “i remember y/n swore she was just resting her eyes,” james smiles at the video. “she needs a good sleep schedule, all of us do,” juhoon adds. “guys can we stop talking about y/n ?” martin interrupts everyone. seonghyeon turns back to face him, “why ?”

“because it makes me uncomfortable,” martin shakes his head. “but why ?” “because it feels like every conversation we have leads back to y/n, it’s already been three months,” martin lets out a frustrated sigh. “three months is nothing compared to years of friendship, y/n’s our best friend and nothing is going to take that away,” seonghyeon scoffs, disconnecting his phone from the projector.

“y/n was my best friend too, and i loved her a lot, but even i have to admit she wasn’t a saint,” martin twists the subject. “what are you talking about ?” juhoon joins the conversation, now baffled. “it’s like…we talk about something, it leads to y/n, and then we talk about how amazing she was without acknowledging the times she made our lives hard,” martin explains himself. “what times ?” james asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“she argued with everyone, are you guys forgetting that ?” martin insists, thinking everyone’s had amnesia. “no she didn’t,” keonho defends you. “she literally did, it was always y/n starting arguments with staff,” martin throws his hands into the air. “no she didn’t martin, she never started anything, yes she argued when we were being treated unfairly but y/n wasn’t…aggressive.” james shakes his head, confused by what martin is getting at.

“and what about the time she got into a physical fight with our choreographer ?” martin doubles down. “are you forgetting the times he’s hit her ?” seonghyeon makes a face at martin. “you’re remembering her wrong,” juhoon states but it only makes martin roll his eyes. “am i ?” he sarcastically laughs. “yeah, because none of the things you described represents y/n.” keonho answers without hesitation. “sure, disregard me like you guys always do,” martin ends the conversation, leaving the practice room.

about a week later, keonho groans when he opens the fridge, a whole lotta nothing. “there’s never anything in here !” he slams it closed. “there is, you just don’t want to cook,” juhoon says, mixing in a flavor packet into his buldak noodles. “do you want me to make you something ?” seonghyeon’s standing over the stove, making a few fried eggs. “no, i miss y/n’s cooking, your food tastes like ass,” keonho makes a disgusted face.

“you still eat it though,” seonghyeon gives him a look. keonho pouts, opening the fridge again. “nothing’s going to magically appear keonho,” james shimmies behind him to sit on the counter. “i’m so hungry,” keonho whines, almost ready to throw a tantrum. “well how about we order takeout,” martin enters the kitchen. “first time you have a good idea,” keonho immediately agrees with martin.

“what’s everyone in the mood for ?” james asks the busy kitchen. “well i was the first hungry one, so i say thai food,” keonho nominates. “ugh no i’m tired of thai food,” martin rolls his eyes, earning a side eye from junoon. “we haven’t eaten it in months, i’m down for some thai,” seonghyeon ignores martin’s complaints. “so am i,” juhoon agrees. “anything’s good for me,” james shrugs, leaving martin the odd one out.

“so my opinion is worth nothing ?” martin frowns, crossing his arms. “ummm it’s 4/5, and if y/n was here, it’d be 5/6, democracy wins, sorry mr dictator,” keonho teases him. “this shit is so unfair…” but no matter what their leader says, the boys still order thai food. once it arrives, it smells like heaven on earth. they crack the lids open on every container, some food even spilling out. soon enough, things settle down, food filling their mouths instead of words.

james suddenly snorts, earning weird looks from his friends. “sorry i just remembered the time martin ordered kebab and everyone was ready to jump him but y/n said she’d eat our portions even though she hates it, just to make martin feel better,” he shakes his head as seonghyeon and keonho snicker. juhoon smirks, shoving some food into his mouth.

martin groans, rolling his eyes. “you guys might hate me but y/n was always my right hand, she was funny,” he laughs. “you mean is,” keonho corrects him. martin looks at him, nodding, “yeah, is, that’s what i said.” “no you didn’t,” seonghyeon shakes his head. “okay is this ‘ride martin’s ass as hard you can’ week or what ?” martin drops his chopsticks angrily. “they were just correcting you martin,” james tries to defuse the situation.

“no it’s not correcting me because y/n’s gone, she’s not here and she’s not coming back,” martin angrily states. “how the fuck would you know ?” seonghyeon points his chopsticks at his leader. “because…because, i just know,” martin shrugs, attempting to calm himself down. “what does that mean ?” keonho pries. “it means that she left and that she left us, can we just stop talking about this ?” martin pushes away his bowl.

“martin, i think it’s good that we talk about y/n,” james looks at him. “no hyung, it’s not, it’s so…not good and it’s been three months so can we let the y/n topic go already ?” martin frustratedly runs his hand through his hair. “she’s not a topic, she’s a person who was our best friend since we were both 12 and lived with us,” seonghyeon furrows his eyebrows. “exactly, so why are you acting like talking about her is a crime ?!” keonho supports his maknae duo.

martin scoffs, feeling cornered, “because nothing is going to change regardless and…” he trails off, not finishing his sentence. “says who ?” seonghyeon challenges him. “says me, okay ?” the room becomes quiet, food long forgotten. with a shaky sigh, james speaks up, voice trembling as he does so. “martin, do you know something about y/n that we don’t ?”

the only thing that can be heard for the next few seconds is the whirring of the AC. “do you think i do ?” martin asks james, no malicious tone behind his words. james hesitates, this isn’t something he can turn back on, an accusation so grave. and yet, he admits it. “yeah, i think you do.” juhoon, seonghyeon, and keonho snap their heads to james, confused, shocked, and in disbelief. martin’s gaze turns to his unfinished food, making him nauseous.

martin doesn’t know how to answer. he knows he can lie, he knows that but at this point, would it mean anything ? “martin ?” james asks again. martin keeps staring at his food, unable to face anyone. “bro are you good ?” seonghyeon‘s voice wobbles. “did something happen that night ?” keonho asks and it’s martin’s final straw. his shoulders shake as he starts crying, tears dropping onto the table. “i…” he starts but he’s unable to finish before he hiccups out a sob.

james leans forward in his seat, “martin, i need you to tell us the truth, did something happen to y/n that night ?” martin squeezes his eyes shut, lip quivering. “…yeah.” for a second, nobody reacts, nobody says anything, nobody breathes. “what ?” a lump forms in seonghyeon’s throat. “i…i can’t…i tried…i didn’t,” his hands go up to his hair, tugging at it harshly. “did you do something ?” keonho whispers, martin immediately shakes his head.

“not me…” martin mumbles, starting to sit straight in his seat. “then who ?” james pressures him, making martin cry even harder. “them, the company, everyone knew,” everyone stiffens, martin’s known something for three months, and still said nothing ?! “did you know something was going to happen ?” james continues, attempting his best to remain his cool. martin nods, “but i…i t-tried to warn her b-before the concert.”

“warn her about what ?” seonghyeon slams his fist against the table, making martin flinch. “that they were going to take her away,” martin rushes his explanation. “take her where ?” keonho asks, chair scooting back with a loud scrape. “i don’t know, they didn’t tell me that !” martin sobs, becoming obviously overwhelmed by the swarm of questions. “is she okay ?” james asks, eyes full of worry. a pause comes as martin freezes “i don’t know…”

juhoon, who has been quiet this entire time asks a single question. “is she alive ?” martin finally looks up, meeting eyes with juhoon. “i don’t know…after it happened, they never said anything else,” martin’s eyes are full of remorse as juhoon’s eyes fill with anger. “what happened martin, after you left with her, what happened to her ?” juhoon’s voice rises, clearly tired of martin’s tears.

martin’s breathing becomes uneven, his vision becoming blurry. he can’t hide, he can’t run, he’s ruining everything. he wipes his snotty nose, realizing that the earth can’t just suck him whole into the ground. “i…i led her down to the parking garage…and i wanted her to leave…and i tried, i swear i tried to help her…but they saw us and she tried to run but they caught up to her…and just put her in the back of a van,” martin blurts out, ending his statement with a suffocated gasp.

nobody says anything. james covers his mouth in shock, seonghyeon stares at martin in disbelief, keonho looks down at his trembling hands, and juhoon shakes his head, tears filling his eyes. “so she’s just gone ?” keonho looks up, breaking the silence despite being scared of the answer. “i don’t know,” martin whispers. “stop fucking saying that, you were the last person who saw her !” seonghyeon’s voice breaks.

“i know ! don’t you think i feel guilty that i didn’t help her ?!” martin cries before realizing what he said, his eyes widening. “what do you mean you didn’t help her ? you could have helped her ?” james questions him, “no- i mean like, no i did-“ martin stumbles over his words, attempting to find a quick explanation, a way to defend himself. seonghyeon slams his hands on the table, “don’t you fucking lie to our faces martin, either tell us the truth or i swear to god-“

martin takes a deep breath, looking at his members one by one. an uncomfortable expression forms on his face before he closes his eyes. “none of you get it. i…i wanted to help, i swear i did, but i thought about the five of us, of our effort and hard work. and i realized that if one person could take the fall, we would be okay.” keonho scoffs in his face, “the five of us ? it’s either the six of us or none of us. why do you get to decide whats right for the group ?”

“because it’s my job as the leader to look out for the group keonho. i won’t allow anyone to hurt us,” martin tries to use his authority. “but you won’t protect us as individuals ? just the group’s reputation ?” seonghyeon bitterly laughs. “no, that’s not what i meant, i’m saying that instead of us getting ruined by someone, i chose the route where our hard work wouldn’t be just ripped away from us !”

“y/n is apart of us martin, she trusted you and you still didn’t protect her or even at least tell us,” james scolds him, face contorting into disgust. “what would that have done ? y/n is gone because it was a sacrifice the company and i had to make for the greater good.” martin reasons, now refusing to back down. “say that again,” juhoon stands up, hands clenched into fists. martin grinds his teeth, “it was for the greater good.”

with that, juhoon launches himself across the table, crashing straight into martin. martin falls back on his chair, thudding loudly on the floor. juhoon starts throwing punches into martin’s face. “you lied to us-“ punch “you lied to her mom” punch “you lied to the police” punch. “juhoon stop !” james pleads, attempting to pull him off of martin. seonghyeon and keonho almost immediately backed away from the scene, not knowing what to do.

“he fucking deserves it !” juhoon yells, feeling martin’s nose break under his knuckles. “s-sop phluse,” martin begs, spitting out blood, weakly thrashing from under juhoon. but juhoon only continues, grabbing martin’s collar to smash the back of his head onto the hardwood floor. “you let them do this to her, you fucking asshole !” juhoon screams, struggling against james’ grip. and suddenly- CRACK.

taglist one : @iconicallyher @cherrystays @spqrkles @btsgangleader @aaassshhhaaa @yunjiiin @myuekii @nota10butadefinite8 @cvntycapricornxx @mariyariririri @user6373738 @coquettegirlyenha @simplyangelixa @fayepz @emmaxdelicate @kpopsmutty69 @liove-madl @cortismoon @haru-reto @vanillakirstein @yatta-exe @dropitlowkey @coldpinguinsstuff @cortischronicles @staarflowerr @sweetbabysblog @bunniestial @vilihente @ludmiig @09zpzkeonnss @feljxx @prettygirlkiki @toasterlickerr @ratyrozz @wouldntyouliketoknowweatherboy @miasitta @fujiswn @hiitzstar @martinthisho @qeysss @amb4rluvs @meiisamotherbitch @lcvehyeon @unseenleylinesecret @rickyshensgirlfriend @anflowers11 @taelvvrzz @cookyland @hironosushiis @amethyystlvr

[cortismoon]

bruises.

SYPNOSIS after getting hurt at the airport, you decide not to tell the members, thinking they wouldn’t care.

CORTIS 6TH MEMBER AU

WARNINGS crazy airport fans, bruising y/n getting hurt, lots of worrying, hurt/comfort, protective cortis members, and keonho and y/n being incapable of acting normal for more than five minutes

NOTE i got tired by the end so theres not much dialogue🥲

->based off this request!!

->series mlist

being an idol, you quite liked your job. maybe because you were still in the honeymoon phase, which meant that you found everything funny. getting stalked? funny. chased? funny. hated on for breathing? funny.

one thing you absolutely could not stand, however, was airports. they were a nightmare from start to finish. the second you arrived, there were hundreds of fans packed together behind barriers, screaming names loud enough to make your ears ring. cameras flashed nonstop from every direction, paparazzi shouted questions nobody intended to answer, security guards barked orders at people who never listened, and everyone seemed determined to push their way closer. it felt like pure chaos compressed into one building, and every time you walked through it, your brain felt like it was being attacked from all sides at once.

so on the way to the airport, you were trying to stay as calm as possible, but inside, you were already freaking out. you sat quietly in your seat while the members chatted amongst themselves, occasionally glancing out the window and mentally preparing yourself for what was waiting outside. no matter how many times you did this, it never got easier.

as soon as you stepped out of the van and were met with loud cheers and wild fans, you immediately let out a sigh, putting your sunglasses on so that the flashes of cameras would stop bothering your eyes so early in the morning. the noise hit you instantly, making your shoulders tense. fans screamed your name from every direction while dozens of phones were shoved into the air, all trying to capture a glimpse of you.

during the entire walk, fans were wild, pushing security, pushing each other, and screaming so loudly that it became difficult to even hear the members talking beside you. every few seconds there was another camera flash, another person calling your name, another body trying to squeeze closer. you were annoyed, and you could tell the other members were annoyed as well, especially seonghyeon and keonho. martin, james, and juhoon were better at hiding it, but every now and then you caught the tight expressions on their faces.

you were almost at the check in area, and you finally started to relax. once you got your tickets, things would calm down. fans wouldn’t be able to follow you anymore, security would have an easier time controlling the crowd, and you could finally breathe without feeling like a zoo animal on display.

suddenly, you heard a loud commotion. “y/n!” a fanboy screamed, his voice cutting through the crowd as he sprinted towards you with his phone raised in the air.

before anyone could properly react, he slipped past security and rushed straight at you. his hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist so harshly that it immediately hurt. “y/n, i love you! please take a picture with me!” he yelled excitedly, yanking you closer as if you were some kind of doll.

your entire body froze.

for a second, your brain completely stopped working. you just stared at him, unable to process what was happening. your muscles locked up, your chest tightened, and all the noise around you suddenly felt distant.

seonghyeon reacted first. he stepped between the two of you and shoved the guy back. “hey, man. back off,” he snapped, his patience clearly gone.

“security!” martin called immediately, grabbing one of the guards by the shoulder.

the moment the guard realized what was happening, his eyes widened. he rushed over and grabbed the fanboy, dragging him away from the group while the guy continued shouting your name. for a brief second, you thought it was over.

then somehow the fanboy managed to wrench himself free.

everything happened so quickly that nobody had time to react before he was charging towards you again. the guard lunged after him and caught him a second time, this time using much more force as he tried to restrain him. the fanboy struggled wildly, throwing his arms around as he fought against the guard’s grip.

and then his elbow slammed directly into your stomach.

once.

twice.

the force behind it made your entire body jolt.

suddenly, you couldn’t breathe.

you had read somewhere that getting hit in the stomach could temporarily knock the air out of you because the impact shocked your diaphragm. you had always assumed people exaggerated it for dramatic effect.

apparently they didn’t.

your lungs refused to cooperate. no matter how hard you tried, air wouldn’t come. panic immediately flared inside your chest as you stood there frozen, eyes wide, desperately waiting for your body to remember how breathing worked. the world blurred around the edges while everyone continued moving, security finally dragging the fanboy away for good.

“you okay?” juhoon asked quietly once things settled down.

you looked up at him. for a moment, you considered telling the truth. your stomach hurt, your chest felt tight, and you still felt shaken from being grabbed in the first place. but there were cameras everywhere, fans watching every movement, people recording from every angle.

so after a brief hesitation, you nodded.

juhoon’s expression immediately told you he didn’t believe a single word. still, he nodded back and continued walking.

throughout the entire check in process, the members kept sending worried glances your way. every time you looked up, someone was watching you. 

seonghyeon kept frowning whenever he thought you weren’t looking, keonho looked one question away from pulling you aside, and even martin, who was usually good at acting normal in public, looked unusually tense. you were sure they wanted to talk to you, to ask if you were actually okay, but with hundreds of eyes and cameras surrounding them, they couldn’t risk causing another scene.

so you ignored every look they sent your way and pretended everything was fine, even as your stomach continued to ache and your breathing still didn’t quite feel normal.

after the fans were gone, all six of you were finally able to walk through the airport without cameras constantly being shoved in your faces.

the silence should have been relaxing, but it wasn’t.

every step sent another pulse of pain through your side. the place where you had been hit felt like it was on fire, and even something as simple as breathing too deeply made your stomach ache. you kept your face neutral, refusing to let anyone notice, but at one point your eyes had watered from how much it hurt and you had to blink rapidly to stop yourself from actually crying.

“hey, you’re okay, right?” martin’s voice broke the silence so suddenly that you nearly jumped.

everyone immediately looked at you.

you looked up at martin, caught off guard by the question. but it wasn’t really the question itself that made you pause. it was the way he said it.

he sounded like he already knew the answer.

like he expected you to say yes.

like he wasn’t actually asking if you were okay.

you hesitated for a second before nodding your head.

the relief on everyone’s faces was immediate. that made you feel even worse.

you looked away from them, staring down at the floor as you continued walking.

it wasn’t a big deal. it was probably going to bruise a little, but thats okay because people got hurt all the time.

you were surrounded by guys who trained until they collapsed, performed through injuries, and worked schedules that barely gave them enough time to sleep. compared to all of that, getting elbowed in the stomach was nothing.

besides, what exactly were they supposed to do about it?

sit there and worry?

hover around you?

cancel schedules because your side hurt?

the thought felt ridiculous.

you told yourself that they probably wouldn’t even care that much if they knew. maybe they would ask if you were okay, maybe they would tell you to be more careful, and then life would move on. there was no point making a big deal out of something so small.

so you kept walking and ignored the pain.

on the plane, you were unfortunately forced to sit with keonho and seonghyeon.

“the kids sit together.” james announced before immediately abandoning the three of you and heading towards his own seats with martin and juhoon.

after a ridiculous amount of arguing, complaints, and threats, you successfully bullied keonho into giving up the window seat.

meanwhile, seonghyeon sat in the aisle seat looking annoyed. “can you both shut up?” he muttered while buckling his seatbelt.

eventually the plane took off, and the three of you settled down.

you rested your head against the window and stared outside.

the ocean stretched endlessly beneath the plane, bright blue under the sunlight. far below, you spotted a tiny boat drifting through the water completely alone.

you found yourself staring at it.

you wondered what life would be like if you were down there instead.

no schedules.

no cameras.

no screaming crowds.

just the ocean and silence. for a brief moment, that sounded a lot nicer than whatever your current life was.

your thoughts were interrupted when a sudden sharp pain shot through your side.

you immediately stiffened.

at some point during his sleep, keonho had shifted closer to you. his elbow was pressing directly into the spot where you had been hit earlier.

the pain was instant.

it felt like someone was digging their fingers directly into where you were hurt.

you tried to ignore it for several seconds because waking keonho up felt like more trouble than it was worth, but eventually the pain became unbearable.

without thinking, you shoved him away harshly, and keonho practically launched upright in his seat. “what?” he asked sleepily. “what’s wrong?”

“bathroom.”

that was all you said before standing up.

keonho immediately groaned. “you’re so annoying. this is why you should get the aisle seat and i get the window seat.”

“i’m not sitting in the middle.” seonghyeon muttered without even looking up from his phone.

you squeezed past them while both boys awkwardly shifted around to make room.

halfway down the aisle, you forgot they weren’t the only members on the plane.

your hand instinctively moved to your ribs. you winced and kept walking.

martin, juhoon, and james all looked up at exactly the wrong moment. their confused expressions followed you all the way to the bathroom.

once inside, you locked the door and immediately lifted your shirt. the sight made your stomach drop.

a large purple bruise was spreading across your side.

it looked worse than you expected. much worse. you stared at it for several seconds before quickly lowering your shirt again.

it was just a bruise.

bruises healed.

there was no reason to panic.

you took a deep breath and left the bathroom. while walking back, you immediately noticed three pairs of eyes watching you.

martin looked confused, juhoon looked concerned and james looked suspicious.

you frowned.

“i told them i’m fine. so annoying.” you muttered under your breath.

by the time you reached your row, your annoyance had shifted towards a completely different target.

keonho was sitting in your seat, sleeping.

the middle seat beside him was empty.

you stared at him for a moment, then immediately leaned over seonghyeon and smacked keonho’s arm.

he jumped awake with a startled yelp.

before he could process what was happening, you grabbed his shirt and physically dragged him towards the middle seat.

“no!” keonho shouted while desperately trying to pull himself back. “i paid for this seat!”

“get out of there right now.”

“no!”

“can you two stop acting like babies?” seonghyeon complained as both of you practically crushed him between your bodies.

a few moments later, a flight attendant appeared beside your row with the smile of someone who was trying very hard not to lose her patience. “excuse me, ma’am, but i’m gonna have to ask you to sit down.”

you hesitated for a moment, before slowly sitting down in the middle. keonho immediately settled into the window seat with the most obnoxious smug grin imaginable.

you were furious. a few minutes later, he attempted to rest his head on your shoulder.

you shoved him away instantly. “do not touch me.”

he rolled his eyes before leaning against the window instead. “wow. beautiful view.”

you clenched your jaw.

he glanced over. “something wrong?” he asked, smiling.

you seriously considered hitting him. judging by the way he immediately raised his arms in defense, he knew exactly what you were thinking.

before either of you could start fighting again, seonghyeon finally snapped. “just shut up, both of you. literally so annoying.”

you and keonho stared at him, then immediately started ganging up on him. 

“why are you even talking right now?” you asked. “all you do is scroll on that damn phone. i haven’t seen you look up once this whole flight.”

“and no one was speaking to you.” keonho added helpfully.

before seonghyeon could respond, the woman sitting in front of you turned around.

“excuse me.” she said with a tight smile. “there are people on this plane trying to relax.”

all three of you stared at her, becoming even more annoyed.

“yeah. we’re sorry.” seonghyeon said immediately.

the woman nodded and turned back around.

the three of you sat in silence. you and keonho both sulked, each leaning away from the other as much as possible, while seonghyeon returned to his phone looking completely exhausted.

“hey, are you sure you’re okay?”

james asked the question while all six of you stood around the hotel reception desk waiting for your room keys.

you paused and looked at him, immediately recognizing that look on his face. it was the exact same look martin had given you at the airport and the exact same look juhoon had given you on the plane. somehow, all three of them had decided that you were secretly dying despite the fact that you had already told them multiple times that you were perfectly fine.

“i told you that i’m fine already.”

james immediately shook his head.

“no, i know something happened—”

before he could finish, a loud voice cut through the lobby.

“why am i in a room with y/n? can’t we just be with the same people as in the dorms? this is so unfair!”

everybody turned towards keonho.

“can i go with someone else?” seonghyeon complained from beside him. “i cannot keep dealing with keonho and y/n. all they do is argue, argue… oh and argue! they’re exhausting!”

you exhaled dramatically and immediately abandoned james. “i should be the one complaining!” you shouted while running over to them. “why should i have to be with these two? they’re loud, nasty, and annoying! they don’t understand boundaries!”

“you started a fight with me on the plane!”

“because you stole my seat!”

“it should’ve been my seat!”

“nobody cared!”

“guys, i am begging you…” seonghyeon groaned while rubbing his face.

within seconds, all three of you were arguing over each other in the middle of the hotel lobby while confused guests openly stared at the spectacle unfolding in front of them.

“martin, come on, i wanna go with james and juhoon!” you whined.

martin smiled at you with absolutely no sympathy. “sorryy. the kids gotta stick together.”

before you could protest, he walked away with the others.

you stared after them in disbelief.

a few minutes later, the three of you were standing alone near the elevators.

the silence that settled over the group felt strange after all the shouting.

“get my stuff.” you snatched the key card out of keonho’s hands before he could react.

“oh, come on!” he complained immediately. “you have too much stuff.”

you ignored him completely. the elevator doors opened and you stepped inside.

keonho continued complaining the entire way to the room.

once the door finally opened, you immediately claimed the bed beside the balcony before either of them could even take their shoes off.

“that’s mine.”

“too slow.”

“you got the window seat and the balcony bed?”

“no, keonho, i didn’t get the window seat because you stole it from me.”

“i paid for the window seat!”

“guys…”

eventually everyone unpacked, showered, and got ready for bed.

hours later, the room was dark and quiet. you lay on your side facing the balcony doors while soft moonlight spilled across the room.

outside, the city stretched endlessly beneath the night sky. tiny lights glowed in the distance while the moon hung high above everything, bright and peaceful.

you found yourself staring at it.

somehow, no matter where you were in the world, it always looked familiar. it didn’t matter if you were exhausted, stressed, angry, overwhelmed, or homesick. the moon never changed. every time you looked at it, it felt like seeing an old friend who had quietly followed you everywhere without ever asking for anything in return.

the constant schedules, the screaming crowds, the cameras, the pressure of being watched every second of every day all seemed smaller whenever you sat and looked at it long enough.

it never completely fixed anything, but it always helped.

even now, with your side still aching every time you moved and your head full of a hundred different thoughts, you could feel yourself slowly relaxing as you watched the silver light spread across the balcony floor.

for the first time all day, you felt calm.

then your bed suddenly creaked. slowly turning around, you immediately spotted the source of the problem.

seonghyeon was lying in your bed.

“oh, fuck off!” you immediately launched yourself at him. “get out!”

“no.”

“this is my bed!”

“not anymore.”

“yes it is!”

you started shoving him towards the edge, but seonghyeon simply wrapped an arm around your waist and held on like a parasite refusing to be removed.

“you’re so annoying.”

“i know.”

the commotion was loud enough to wake keonho. he sat up sleepily and blinked towards your bed.

for several seconds he simply watched the two of you wrestle. then, to your horror, he stood up.

“don’t you dare get any closer.” your warning accomplished absolutely nothing.

he climbed onto the bed and immediately flopped down on your other side.

you immediately started shouting at both of them. the problem was that neither seemed remotely interested in listening.

seonghyeon had already closed his eyes again, and keonho had stolen one of your pillows.

both of them looked entirely comfortable.

after several more minutes of arguing, shoving, and threatening violence, you finally realized neither of them was moving.

with a frustrated groan, you dropped back onto the mattress.

“why am i in the middle again?”

“shhhh.”

seonghyeon’s eyes remained closed.

you glared at him.

then you nudged keonho with your foot. he didn’t respond.

you leaned up slightly and discovered that both of them had already fallen asleep.

you stared at them in disbelief.

you genuinely hated them.

after another minute of contemplating whether murder would be worth the prison sentence, you finally rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling.

the moonlight still spilled through the balcony doors, casting a soft glow across the room. despite how annoyed you were, the steady breathing on either side of you and the quiet darkness surrounding the three of you made the room feel strangely peaceful.

you would never admit that out loud, though.

the next day was exhausting from the moment you woke up. between rehearsals, makeup, hair styling, interviews, outfit changes, and the actual performance itself, it felt like you barely had a second to sit down and think. normally you enjoyed busy schedules because they distracted you from everything else, but this time the constant movement only reminded you of the bruise on your side. every stretch, every turn, and every sharp movement sent a dull ache through your ribs, forcing you to grit your teeth and pretend nothing was wrong whenever somebody looked your way.

fortunately, nobody seemed to notice. the members were too busy preparing for the performance, running through choreography one final time and teasing each other backstage while the staff rushed around trying to keep everything on schedule. whenever the pain flared up, you simply ignored it and focused on something else. after all, you had already gone this long without telling anyone. there was no point bringing it up now when the performance was only minutes away.

when it was finally time to go on stage, your nerves disappeared almost immediately. the second the music started and the crowd began screaming, your body automatically slipped into performance mode. suddenly your focus was on the choreography, the audience, and making sure you stayed synchronized with the others. for a little while, you almost forgot about the bruise entirely, too distracted by the adrenaline rushing through your system to think about anything else.

everything was going perfectly until the middle of one of the songs. during a particularly energetic part of the choreography, you threw your arms above your head while turning, and your shirt lifted slightly from the movement. it happened so quickly that you didn’t even notice. james did, however, because he happened to glance in your direction at exactly the wrong moment. for a split second, his eyes landed on the dark bruise stretching across your side, and the expression on his face changed instantly.

throughout the rest of the performance, james kept looking at you whenever he thought you weren’t paying attention. at first you couldn’t figure out why, but the increasingly worried look on his face made you uneasy. every time your eyes met, he would immediately glance away before looking back again a few moments later, as if he was trying to convince himself that he hadn’t actually seen what he thought he had seen.

the second the performance ended and all six of you returned backstage, james immediately walked over to you. he barely waited for the dressing room door to close before pointing at a chair and telling you to sit down. the seriousness in his voice caught you off guard, and judging by the way everyone else stopped what they were doing to look over, it caught them off guard too. when you asked what his problem was, he simply repeated himself and told you to sit.

you refused immediately. unfortunately, that only seemed to make him more suspicious. before long, martin had joined him, followed by juhoon, then seonghyeon, then keonho. somehow, within less than a minute, all five of them had decided that whatever james was worried about was now their business too. the fact that nobody would explain what was happening only made you more irritated, and after several minutes of arguing, you found yourself sitting in the chair anyway because apparently five people were stronger than one.

“lift your shirt.”

the request made you freeze.

for a moment, the entire room fell silent as you stared at james in disbelief. when he repeated himself, you immediately refused, but the determined look on his face didn’t change. finally, after an increasingly uncomfortable pause, he revealed that he had seen the bruise during the performance. the second those words left his mouth, every member in the room turned to look at you.

you knew you had lost.

with a dramatic groan, you reluctantly lifted the edge of your shirt.

the reactions were immediate.

the room exploded with shocked voices almost instantly, and several members physically stepped closer to get a better look. nobody seemed prepared for how bad it looked. overnight, the bruise had spread even further across your side, creating an ugly mixture of dark purple and blue that was impossible to ignore. for several seconds, everyone simply stared at it while trying to process what they were seeing.

“what happened?”

martin was the first one to speak, but the others immediately started asking questions as well. when did it happen? how did it happen? why did nobody know about it? eventually you explained everything, starting with the airport and ending with the fan accidentally elbowing you while fighting against security. the more details you gave, the more horrified everyone looked, especially when you admitted that you couldn’t breathe properly afterward.

the room became strangely quiet once you finished explaining.

for a few moments, nobody said anything at all.

then keonho finally looked at you and frowned. “why didn’t you tell us?” he asked, and for once there wasn’t even a hint of teasing in his voice. the question made everyone look at you again, all waiting for an answer.

you hesitated before shrugging your shoulders. honestly, the answer seemed obvious to you. it was just a bruise. yes, it hurt, but bruises happened all the time. compared to everything else idols dealt with, it didn’t seem important enough to make a big fuss over. more than anything, you simply hadn’t wanted them worrying about something so small when they already had enough things to think about.

when you finally admitted that, the members looked even more confused.

martin crouched down slightly so he could look you in the eyes, while james crossed his arms and shook his head in disbelief. they immediately started explaining that the issue wasn’t how serious the injury was. the issue was that something had happened to you and you had chosen to deal with it alone. according to them, it didn’t matter whether it was a bruise, a cold, or something much worse. if you were hurt, they wanted to know.

you tried arguing that it really wasn’t that deep, but nobody accepted that explanation. juhoon pointed out that you had been visibly uncomfortable since the airport. james reminded you that you had literally struggled to breathe afterward. seonghyeon quietly mentioned that he had noticed you wincing every time you moved on the plane. even keonho admitted that you had been acting weird ever since the airport incident, although he immediately ruined the sincerity by saying that your normal behavior was already weird enough.

despite the teasing, there was something surprisingly comforting about the conversation. nobody was angry at you. nobody was annoyed. if anything, they seemed upset that you had felt like you couldn’t tell them. as they continued talking over each other, insisting that you should have said something sooner, you slowly realized that all the assumptions you had made over the last day had been completely wrong.

you had convinced yourself that they wouldn’t care because it wasn’t serious enough. instead, they were treating the bruise like it was the most important thing in the room. you had convinced yourself that telling them would only make them worry unnecessarily, but judging by the expressions on their faces, finding out days later had worried them far more. for the first time since the airport, you felt some of the guilt and anxiety start to disappear.

eventually martin reached over and gently flicked your forehead, earning an offended noise from you and several laughs from the others. he told you that next time you were injured, sick, upset, or dealing with literally anything, you were supposed to tell them immediately instead of trying to handle it by yourself. one by one, the others agreed, and although they all phrased it differently, the message remained the same.

you weren’t alone.

and despite how annoying they were, despite all the arguments, complaints, and constant chaos they brought into your life, hearing that made the ache in your chest disappear far more effectively than any medicine ever could.

TAGLIST 50/50 @fimmisstuff @konolien @jiyeons-closet @seonghyeonskibidi @ri-eveowe @ocyeanicc @cherid0ll @tetsur0-1 @claireo-o @peetabreaaad @stxrripure @lunaryoongie @stargirlxe @aespaqq @seovk1 @hrrystylesss12345 @paydadakoksevmiyorum @rie-diculous @boochisuri @isackiscunty @h0neylemon @stxr-lilac @vzergg @6rei-ji @cupidvx @vavavy @hans-sweetie @faeriwonz @fromsaltandsea @sunkissezd @beljakovina @aphantassia @hyeoncake @ningninjas @sidluvskeonho @lucy1568 @lalipop143 @sourcandyfish @tinkerbellsgf @saaaaasie07 @skyeincc @amethyystlvr @hyuneskkami @cosmicwintr @sonyui @lynvriee @hheerrmmiitt @ilovemamamuti @thisismepls @anglheartz TAGLIST CLOSED

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[quinjaif]

- ☾ i see my reflection in your eyes

「 Kim Ryul 」╱

Kim Ryul, a high school student that’s school's most feared delinquent to feel the hole his father being murdered left. The perfect honor student, whom is just because thinks is the only way she can feel worth of living. Isn’t even able to raise her voice to stand for herself, slowly become the only place where they feel seen, even though they know love alone won't save either of them.

──────── ☼ ────────

『 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙸𝙽𝚂』 Kim Ryul × fem!reader, angst, strangers to lovers, hurt/no comfort, delinquent!ryul, rich girl, academic pressure, introvert x extrovert, absent parents, cursing, underground fights, smoking, drinking, drugs, mention of depression, emotional dependence, slow burn, first love, mention of deaths, trauma,

(Btw this is my first time uploading sm, and English it’s not my first language so if there’s anything that you guys notice pls let me know, hope u understand. I’ll take it. And I hope you guys like it <3 sorry if there any mistake TT, also if you don’t like the name just imagine it’s yours I just don’t like y/n but if you guys like it I’ll put that on the next one, also some lines are inspired in TSITP ;) )

“He taught her how to live. She taught him he was still worth loving.”

Kim RYUL grew up believing that being a good person meant nothing. His old man was the kindest person he had ever known, the man he admired the most, he thought everything was possible because even though his father was dealing with a lot of problems like financial problems or depression, he smiled and told them everything would be okay. Yet he was murdered, From that day on, he stopped believing in people, thought everything was a lie... That even though you were kind and happy, good, life would punish you like that. He picked up smoking, drinking, and bullying people, hitting them for no reason, at all, making their life's miserable, fighting in illegal rings, earning a reputation as the school's most feared delinquent and bully. He was a criminal. Everyone knew him through fear, bruised knuckles.

No one knew that behind that mask where he acted like he didn't care about anything, like he ruled the world, he did.

y/n couldn't be more different. Born into wealth, being the president of the student council, a model student-the kind who never breaks the rules, never raises her voice, never gives her opinions, always comes home with perfect grades. But she doesn't study because she enjoys it. She never did, she studies because she'd spent her entire life thinking that if she had perfect grades, she would finally get her parents love, she wouldn't be a failure for them, they didn't even though about that. She wanted to earn something she'd never have ‘her parents' love and attention’…Or someone’s?. Surrounded by luxury, she has never felt more alone.

They studied in the same school, yet, they had never talked, or crossed paths, or look at each other.

She knew him, she had heard of him and all the bad stuff he does, but didn't care about him.

The digital clock on her desk blinked 10:47 p.m.

Her chemistry project was spread across every inch of the table-textbooks, papers, highlighted notes, colors, paints and calculations. She had spent the last four hours working without taking a break.

She never did.

She stared at the instructions one last time.

Glue? This wasn't wrote at the start.

Her eyes drifted toward the nearly empty bottle sitting beside her notebook. There wasn’t more enough to finish her experiment. She let out a quiet sigh before pushing herself out of her chair.

The big house was silent, except for the sound of the television downstairs.

She walked carefully down the staircase, still holding the list of materials in her hand.

Her father sat on opposite ends of the couch, their attention fixed entirely on the soccer playing across the television screen. And her mother just reading a fashion magazine. Neither of them noticed she had entered the room.

…”Mom?" "Dad?"

Her father only hummed absentmindedly, never taking his eyes off the screen.

"I need to go buy something for my chemistry assignment”

Another few seconds passed. Her mother reached for her cigarette and took a deep sigh.

"Can I go?"

"Do whatever you want."

That was it. No It's late. No be careful. No Do you want me to drive you?

She left and closed the door behind her. And the moment she started walking towards the store? the rain had only gotten worse. Streetlights reflected against the soaked pavement as she hurried toward the only stationery store that was still open. She rushed.

The owner smiled politely as she paid for the last materials she needed. She smiled politely and left.

Within minutes, she was on her way home again, hugging the paper bag tightly against her chest to keep it dry. The streets were nearly empty.

"Come on." Only the sound of rain accompanied her footsteps. She pulled her phone to answer a message, but when she turned her head around by pure instinct she felt someone running towards her.

Fast. She frowned, turning her head confused just as someone rounded the corner at full speed.

A boy, not just any boy. Kim Ryul.

His white school shirt was all soaked, stained with rain and blood. His breathing was desperately like he'd been running a lot, and his knuckles were split open.

Drop dead. She froze. Every rumor she’d ever heard about Kim Ryul came rushing back all at once.

Within a second, he slammed directly into her. The paper bag slipped from her hands. Her chemistry materials flew across the wet pavement.

He groaned, who was this stupid girl and why she didn't moved away?

He looked down at her. A classmate? Her uniform under a jacket. Oh no, wearing the same uniform at him, right now. At 10PM? While he was being chased? They would relate that girl with him.

You gotta be kidding me. Before she could even react, his hand wrapped tightly around her arm.

"Don't make a sound." he said

Her heart stopped. She looked up at him.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

He didn't answer. He just frowned and scoffed at her. Instead of answering looked over his shoulder.

...”Shit." Several voices echoed from the other end of the street.

"| saw him!" "He ran this way!"

Without thinking twice, he grabbed her sleeve and pulled her toward the entrance of an abandoned building hidden between two narrow alleys. She stumbled after him.

"What are you-" "Where are you taking me?!"

"Quiet before I kill you before we get killed." He mumbled

He pulled her behind a crumbling concrete wall, keeping both of them completely out of sight. The footsteps grew louder. Closer. She was nervous, she didn't wanted to die. Ryul lifted a finger to his own lips.

...”Shut up. Don't make a sound" he whispered

A group of boys sprinted past the entrance, shouting his name as they disappeared farther down the street.

"Kim Ryul! You wanna die?!"

"Just as your dad?! You motherfucker."

Silence. She could see him clenching his jaw holding himself from going and punch that idiot's face till he couldn't breathe more. Only then did he finally let go of her wrist. She immediately took two steps back, rubbing the spot where he'd been holding her.

Why he had to grab her so aggressively? He noticed. His voice was sharp.

“…Relax.” He frowned his eyebrows.

“If I wanted to hurt you… I would’ve done it already.”

For the first time, he actually looked at her. A stranger girl from his school, staring at him with wide, scared eyes. Yeah of course, she saw him as everyone saw him, with fear. He glanced down at the soaked paper bag lying near the entrance, then sighed.

Without another word, he turned to leave. By the time she stepped back outside... He was already gone.

All that remained were muddy footprints slowly disappearing beneath the rain.

The next morning, she convinced herself she had imagined everything, Maybe the blood, Maybe the bruises, Maybe that he had to hide because he was escaping from bad people. It was real. All the rumors about him were true.

She was thinking, walking as she stepped into the student affairs office, she carried a stack of attendance reports against her chest, greeting the coordinator with a polite bow.

"Good morning." The woman smiled. But the smile disappeared immediately when she turned back to the person sitting in front of her.

"Perfect timing” Only then did she notice someone else standing in the room. Kim Ryul. Again.

His white school shirt was wrinkled, his tie hung loosely around his neck, the blazer of the school hanging over his shoulder and fresh bruises painted over his knuckles. One hand was over his knee. Awkwardly, the other spun a pen between his fingers.

He looked... exactly like he had the night before. For a brief second, their eyes met. It's him. It's her.

The bruised boy that was in big trouble.

Her grip around the folders tightened.

He recognized her too. What was she doing there? Yeah maybe she was a nerd that the teachers liked too much to let her in.

The scared girl from the rain.

"Haven't you learned your lesson?" the coordinator sighed, turning toward Ryul. Frown all over her face like if it was something she did every single day. Scold him.

"Kim Ryul let's see...More skipped classes, Another fight, and…wow…three different students have filed complaints against you this week, anything else?" She said

Ryul shrugged and scoffed. “So?"

"So? You gotta be kidding!" she repeated in disbelief.

"You think this is a joke? You're a mess, seriously, and we let's not even talk about your grades." Silence. He leaned against the chair, completely unfazed. He just raised his eyebrows uninterested.

"You'll be serving three weeks of afterschool detention."

“Uh huh” He didn't react.

"And"

She turned and nodded her head towards y/n. Still figuring out the calendar of events from school. “...Our student council president will be supervising you."

Both of them looked up at the same time.

Ryul scoffed, yeah, not even the principal could order him around. Neither this girl that happened to be the president of student council. That was new, the coordinator smiled as though she'd just solved the world's greatest problem.

"I'm sure she'll keep you in line, right?." She said

Ryul let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, good luck with that."

The coordinator gathered a few papers and rolled her eyes taking a deep breath, tired of Ryul. She got up from her desk before walking toward the door.

"I hope you realize you’re running your own life, Kim Ryul." The office fell silent the moment she left.

Y/n couldn't even talk about what she thought about that, didn't have her own opinion.

Neither of them spoke. Ryul finally broke the silence. He tilted his head slightly.

"So.you're really gonna be my babysitter for whole three weeks? Come on. You don't wanna have problems with me…deal with me...just say you're busy or something.” He said scoffing.

She swallowed. y/n raised her eyebrows.

"I don't have a choice." she said.

A faint smirk appeared on his face. Close enough for her to notice the cut beneath his eyebrow.

"You do. I remember you. You were scared of me then." He leaned toward her as he got up from the chair.

"So..." he mumbled. "Are you still thinking about detention?"

She looked down at the folders she was holding, taking a slow breath before meeting his eyes again.

...”Your detention starts tomorrow"

The answer seemed to catch him off guard. "You're making a big mistake."

She straightened her posture. "For the next three weeks, you'll be attending detention."

Ryul stared at her for a moment. Then scoffed. ...”You're fucked"

He walked past her, shoving one hand into his pocket. “We’ll see how long that courage lasts, President.”

The first week of detention was awfully quiet. Well, until Kim Ryul decided he was bored, and wanted to bother her till she got tired and put an end to his detention. y/n sat across from him every afternoon, surrounded by textbooks and neatly organized notes. University entrance exams were only a few months away, and every minute mattered.

Kim Ryul? had absolutely nothing to do. For the first twenty minutes, he drummed his fingers against the desk. Then he started spinning his pen. Making annoying noises. Yelling. Then kicking the leg of his chair. He slept some minutes. Moved his chair around to make noise. Then started humming some random song under his breath. Every few minutes, y/n would glance up from her notes before forcing herself to focus again. She couldn’t.

She never complained. That somehow annoyed him even more. She was boring. Why the universe suddenly put this boring girl on his life?

“…Yah, weird girl, Do you ever stop studying?” He asked, tired of trying to bother her with loud sounds. He would try to find something to piss off this girl. No answer. He leaned farther back in his chair.

“You know those books aren’t gonna run away, right?” He said with a palm under his chin. Silence. Ryul clicked his tongue.

“Really. Weird.” He watched her for another minute. Rich parents. Perfect grades. Student council president. Perfect uniform. Perfect handwriting. Perfect everything, he frowned. And smirked. It didn’t make sense.

“You seem so sad for a girl so perfect. You’re trying to impress somebody?”

For the first time all afternoon… Her pencil stopped. Barely. But he noticed. A smirk appeared on his face.

“Oh… So that’s what it is.” He threw carelessly. He said. “Your parents don’t love you or something?”

For the first time since detention had started. Only for a second. She scoffed. Please. Someone stop him. That tiny pause was enough. Ryul noticed.

She walked toward the door before stopping for a brief second. Without turning around.

“…It’s none of your business.” The classroom door closed behind her. Ryul stayed where he was, staring at the empty chair she’d left behind, He looked down at the notebook she’d forgotten to zip into her backpack. He waited until the classroom door clicked shut.

“…Finally! Im free of that humorless person.” He stretched his arms over his head, letting out a dramatic sigh.

“Freedom.” He said as he stood up, grabbed his backpack from the floor. He was about to leave when something on the desk caught his attention. A notebook. He picked it up. The front cover was covered in perfectly neat handwriting.

y/n? That girl’s name

“…Seriously?” He rolled his eyes. Clicking his tongue, he shoved the notebook under his arm and walked out of the classroom. He ran outside at the entrance of the school, around the campus.

“Hey.” No response. “President.” She kept walking. “…yah! y/n!”

She finally stopped. “What?” She said turning around bothered.

He held up the notebook. “You forgot this.”

She looked down before quietly taking it from his hands. “…Thank you.” She turned to leave.

“That’s it?” He said

She looked back. She frowned confused. Annoyed.

“I saved your life days ago. I returned your notebook today.” “And all I get is a ‘thank you’?” He said

“…You didn’t saved my life, you want a Nobel prize?.” She said frowning annoyed.

“I kinda did..and it wouldn’t be bad.” He said scratching the back of his neck

“You also told me you would kill me.” She said

Ryul kept scratching the back of his neck. And then stopped. “…Damn, that’s true.”

For a brief second… Neither of them said anything. Then, without really thinking about it, Ryul started walking beside her.

“So..y/n? What are you always studying for? You got pissed from what I asked right?”

She rolled her eyes. She had never ever talked with someone about her personal issues. And she didn’t intend to talk with Kim Ryul about them. She stopped a bit to turn to see him and frowned.

“Do you ever think about what you say?.” She said and turned to keep walking. She glanced at him. “…You’re really annoying, you know?”

A grin spread across his face. Because if it wasn’t her, even though he was a girl he probably would have reacted aggravated. But this girl was easy to annoy. He was chill right now. The president council. She could make detention more easy. Maybe even cancel it.

“There it is. You’ve said more words to me in the last minute than you have all week, jeez.”

She blinked. The realization surprised both of them. More her. She ignored him and kept walking. Neither of them noticed they had already walked all the way to the school gates together.

It was weird. Someone as Ryul and y/n were totally different, why they suddenly crossed paths? The next days that followed settled into a strange routine. Ryul and y/n themselves—didn’t understood why. Ryul throwing careless words just to see her reaction, even as a small part of him waited for her to push back harder. To talk for herself.

Sometimes Ryul disappeared halfway through the conversation without saying goodbye, leaving behind a faint irritation in y/n that lingered longer than she cared to admit. y/n simply walked away after getting tired of listening to him, Ryul had always been surrounded by people. Classmates laughed at his jokes.

Girls giggled his name in the hallways. Friends that actually stood by him because of fear. Everyone knew who Kim Ryul was. But no one actually knew him he wondered if there was anything real beneath the version of himself everyone seemed to accept so much.

y/n was the opposite. People admired her, though they knew her. No one did and she questioned whether she had become the role she played, rather than the person she once was. From the outside… They couldn’t have been more different. One hid behind violence, using it as a shield to keep others from getting too close. The other hid behind perfection, afraid that even the smallest crack would make everything collapse. Afraid of talking. About what they actually wanted

Neither of them realized they had been wearing masks for so long… without realizing it, they had begun to notice the cracks in each other first.

From that afternoon on, detention became a little quieter. The second week of detention felt different. Y/n never stopped pretending he wasn’t getting on her nerves.

The classroom would slowly empty.

One by one, the other students serving detention would leave. The teachers would disappear into the faculty offices.

Only the two of them remained. Their conversations never lasted long. Most of them ended in arguments. Ryul made fun of her grades. y/n complained about his attitude. He called her “President.” She called him a jerk. Neither of them realized those small conversations had quietly become part of their routine.

Then, one afternoon… Ryul didn’t show up. y/n frowned at the empty chair across from her. She checked the attendance sheet. Absent. She sighed, wrote his name down anyway and finished supervising detention alone.

The next day. He finally appeared. Late, nothing new from him. His lip was split open. A bruise darkened the side of his jaw. His knuckles looked worse than usual.

y/n immediately frowned. Pretended not to care

“You’re late.” She said

Ryul dropped into his chair without looking at her. “Yeah no shit.”

“I’m marking you absent.” She said

“Go ahead.” He said without hesitation, challenging her.

He finally looked up. “…do whatever you want.” Something in his voice felt different.

Exhausted. Silence filled the classroom. y/n stared at him for a moment before quietly asking,

“…What happened?”

Ryul laughed once. A bitter laugh.

“You think you’re the only person whose life’s a mess?”

“Who said my life’s a mess?” She said

“Y/N DONT fuck with me”

He said. She stayed quiet. What was wrong with him?

He looked down at his bruised hands.

“You know I lost someone…life disappointed me”

Another silence.

“I thought if I stopped caring about people…it wouldn’t hurt anymore.”

He shrugged. “He was a good person, and yet, he got killed, stupid life.”

That was all he said. He didn’t explain.

He didn’t cry. He simply opened his notebook and stared at the empty page. y/n looked at him differently after that. Not because she pitied him. But bc She realized the boy everyone feared was carrying something much heavier than bruises

She went home, Did her usual routine, she showered and went to bed after studying some subjects.

That night…at 11pm… Her phone vibrated.

Unknown Number

“come outside.”

She frowned at the message. A second one arrived.

“don’t make me throw rocks at your window, president.”

She frowned and turned to the window of her room. And saw him. Wearing all black. Freezing. She opened the window

“What are you doing here? It’s 11:21!” she said frowning

“You coming or what? Or you’re too good and afraid of breaking rules” he said chuckling while seeing her

She rolled her eyes. She thought her parents would kill her. But actually they wouldn’t even care.

“Whatever..if I die it’s your fault..”

She left through the window and stepped a foot outside, Ryul helped her.

She should’ve said no. Instead, she followed him. Neither of them talked much. The city slowly faded behind them until the lights of the Han River reflected across the dark water. Cars passed in the distance. The wind was colder than either of them expected. They stood by some benches and sat down. For a while, they simply sat there.

“y/n…” Ryul finally said, pulling a cigarette from the pocket of his blazer. “You never answered my question.”

“You didn’t answered mine neither”

“No..your question about quitting illegal fighting..it’s not possible..your turn. Why do you act like the world’s gonna end if you don’t get perfect grades?”

She lowered her eyes. Gosh she wished it was easy to explain. As if someone as idiot as him would understand her pain of being depressed, right?

“…It’s complicated.” She said

He lit the cigarette. “So make it simple.”

Silence. Between them, she looked at him.

“My parents…” she began quietly. “They’re not bad people.”

Another pause.

“They just… They’ve never really cared about what I think. Or about me”

Ryul took a drag before looking at her.

“So tell them.”

She let out a quiet laugh. That was her principal concern, she didn’t had a voice. Not infront of them. Not opinions.

“You really think it’s that easy?” She scoffed

“Isn’t it?.” He said smoking.

“It isn’t.”

He shrugged. “Then make it easy.”

Before taking another drag, he noticed the expression on her face. A grimace. He frowned confused with the stranger girl expression.

“You got a problem with me?”

She hesitated. “…I don’t like people who smoke, or cigarettes...”

He looked down at the one between his fingers, debating whether give it another puff or not.

“My mom smokes.” She wrapped her hand around arm nervously. Like trying to speak without feeling it.

“The whole house smells like them. I hate that smell.”

“I hate that every time I smell one…it reminds me that I never say anything.”

“I don’t tell her to stop.”

“I don’t tell either of my parents how I feel.”

“I just…keep quiet. I’m afraid that I’ll just ruin everything I’ve tried to build”

Ryul looked at the cigarette for a long second. Without saying anything… He pressed it against the railing until the ember disappeared. Nonchalantly.

Unbothered. After another stretch of silence, Ryul rested both elbows on the railing.

“I know what’s your big problem” he said

She frowned. “What?”

“You never let anything out.” He suddenly cupped his hands around his mouth. And screamed like a pathetic kid. His voice echoed over the river. A couple walking by turned to stare. Someone laughed. Ryul didn’t care. He looked back at her.

“See?”

She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“What are you doing? Oh my gosh you’re so embarrassing..”

“Getting it out. Something you can’t do”

“Shut up. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“So?” He chuckled and smirked.

“Your turn.” He said.

She immediately shook her head. “No.”

“C’mon.”

“No”

“What are they gonna do? Arrest you?” He said laughing, where was the bully Kim Ryul?

She looked around nervously. People were still staring.

“I can’t.” She said shaking her head.

“You can.” He said laughing.

He shouted again, even louder than before.

“Y/N!”

She couldn’t help it. A tiny laugh escaped before she covered her mouth. Ryul noticed. He pointed at her with a satisfied smile.

“I’ve been trying to make you do that for weeks.” He said. Her cheeks warmed, not because of shyness.

“I wasn’t laughing.” “Liar.”

He nodded toward the river one last time.

“C’mon, President.” He said grabbing her jacket like an excited kid.

“Just once.”

She closed her eyes. Took a shaky breath.

And, for the first time in years… She screamed. Not because her life suddenly became easier. But because, for a single moment… She stopped being afraid of hearing her own voice.

He smirked and screamed after her again. They laughed, stupid laughs. Stupid kids. They thought they understood each other. Maybe they did. Maybe that was the problem.

The rest of the second week passed faster than either expected. Detention didn’t feel like detention anymore. Ryul hadn’t changed he was still late, still skipping classes, still arguing with teachers. y/n still complained, marking his name down with an annoyed sigh each afternoon.

Yet somehow… neither of them hated those three hours anymore. Ryul caught himself watching the clock during his last class—not for detention, but for her.

The girl who no longer looked at him with fear, but like she was trying to understand him. That scared him more. He was letting someone into his life. Someone who could disappoint him again. Hurt him.

y/n began noticing things she hadn’t before. His bruises that changed daily—jaw, ribs, swollen knuckles, bruised lips, He always brushed it off, like pain was just part of him.

Most of all… she hated that he believed he deserved it.

One afternoon, she stopped pretending not to notice. She told him to quit—not to control him, but because she was tired of watching him destroy himself. Because she cared about him. Someone was caring about him? her? He didn’t wanted to drag her with him. Ryul didn’t hear concern. He heard pity.

And he hated pity. The argument started small and spiraled. He told her to stop acting like she understood him. She told him getting beaten half to death wasn’t strength.

“Says the one who can even stand for herself” He scoffed, annoyed. She stood firmly.

She asked how long his body could take it. He asked how long she’d keep living for people who barely noticed her. Silence. That was a low blow. They weren’t talking about each other anymore.

When detention ended, they walked away in opposite directions.

That night, y/n told herself she wouldn’t hear from him again. Not late texts, as Ryul had been doing. Not sneaking out at night to see the stars with him.

It was better that way. Cleaner. Safer. Not trying to fix him. Help him.

She tried to focus on homework, but her mind kept drifting back to his voice—sharp, defensive, and underneath it… tired. At 11:48 p.m., her phone lit up.

Ryul.

“can i come over. please.”

“i’m pretty messed up. i don’t want my mom or my ani to see me like this.”

Her chest tightened. She was the only place he didn’t have to pretend. Her fingers trembled as she typed, erased, then finally sent—

“where are you.”

“outside your house.”

y/n froze. Her heart raced. She stood so quickly her chair scraped the floor. And there he was. Leaning against the wall. Head lowered. Hands in his pockets, she saw it; the blood. The swelling. For the first time… Kim Ryul didn’t look untouchable. He looked broken. And when he saw her, he didn’t smile. He just looked relieved

“Gosh look at you. Come on” she said, worried. Over Kim Ryul.

He chuckled faintly and followed her silently inside her house. The house was empty. All the people already sleeping. He looked around. It was really big and modern, you could tell her parents were into art because of the different statues, He looked around and distracted himself as he spotted some little statues.

“Ryul…let’s go” she whispered anxiously. She was risking it all for him, getting him into her house was risky.

He turned around and nodded following her, pretending he wasn’t feeling all the pain in the world; over his ribs, his slowly turning into purple eye, bruised cheeks and his lips. A whole mess.

“Stay here” she said as they stepped into her room.

He nodded and went and sat down on the bed. It was very quiet, an uncomfortable silence, so he observed, he was in a place where y/n spent most of her time, he felt closer to her there, to her thoughts, to her problems. He could see his reflection through her eyes everything, maybe they were similar at the end of the day. He got up and walked around the room. Everything was painfully… her. Stacks of books. books sprinkled everywhere. A desk lamp still glowing over unfinished homework. No pictures of friends. No photographs with her parents. Nothing that made the room feel lived in. notebooks, and tools with which she worked. Ryul smiled a little when he saw a photo of her as a child. y/n looked happy, maybe she was at that time. And more things, travel pins, keychains and more irrelevant things.

His eyes drifted toward the closed door. She was risking a lot. Not because her parents would probably catch them. Because she believed they would. She still cared enough to be afraid for him. The door opened again.

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw that y/n returned to the room with a medicine cabinet in her hand. She was carrying a small plastic box filled with bandages, antiseptic and cotton pads. Without saying much, she sat beside him.

“…Your hand.” She said

Ryul looked at her for a second before quietly holding it out.

“…Youre going to feel like it’s burning.” “I’ve had worse.”

“Have you? You’re always saying that.” She said

“…Well Im not lying, y/n.” He said

She poured antiseptic over the split skin covering his knuckles. He didn’t flinch, she pressed against one of the cuts. He clenched his jaw.

“…Fuck” he groaned lowly

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “So it does burn.”

“…Don’t get used to it. I don’t like people seeing me like that”

A deep thought, he just gulped and looked away. She just nodded and continued to heal his wounds. Slowly so as not to hurt him, she cared about not hurting him, more than he was, physically and psychologically. Silence settled between them again. She continued to heal his jaw. His split lips. The cut beneath his eyebrow. She turned to the icy press she took from her refrigerator minutes before and pressed it on his eye, gently. There were too many bruises.

Too many for someone their age. But it was seen that it had been for a long time, there were scars that it was obvious that they would not disappear.

She let go of his hand but he took hers, he didn’t want to let it go. Not in a romantic way. Not because he liked her. But because it was the first time in a long time that someone touched him without wanting to hit him. But he realised, and let her go. He cleared his throat.

“How many times have you fought with someone? Or how many illegal fights have you participated in?” she asked, genuinely worried.

“I’ve lost the count.” He said frowning from the pain of his eye. She frowned.

He stayed quiet. For a long time. The only sound in the room was cotton rubbing against skin.

“You know, I thought if I hit people hard enough…I’d stop thinking about him.”

“I’m disappointed in life, my dad was a good man, even so he was killed. So what’s the point of treating others well?”

He laughed. A tired laugh.

“Besides, I haven’t been able to leave it even if I want to. It’s a hole that I dragged myself, and very deep. Make fun of others. Beating innocent people. Fighting for money or simply for impotence. Alcohol. Cigarettes. Even drugs..”

Another pause

“I wasn’t trying to get high. I was just trying not to think.”

His eyes stayed fixed on the floor.

“I feel like it’s not even me anymore. After my father’s death, it was hard for me to go back to being like before. My mom and sister act like everything is fine. They tell me time will heal everything. But it doesn’t work.”

“Just like my father. He suffered from debts. But he always smiled and told us that everything was going to be fine…And now I feel like an idiot for not helping him. For not having spent more time with him. And I want to get all this out..”

“I want to be normal again. Smile. Help my mom. My dad scolding me because I skipped class. Make mom smile for getting a simple 8 in math. Play with Ani. Hiking with my dad. But life doesn’t allow me to. I don’t want to be seen. I can’t. I miss me.”

Silence. His jaw tightened. No more thoughts. He began to talk for the first time about how he feels, he could have done it with anyone, but with no one he would feel seen and heard as with her.

“Time just taught me how to pretend.”

y/n finished wrapping the bandage around his hand. She noticed his fingers trembling. Not from pain. From something much deeper.

“…I couldn’t save him.”

His voice cracked. With one hand he grabbed his face while frowning. Holding back the tears.

“So every time someone gets hurt i keep thinking maybe if I had been stronger…”

He lowered his head. And shook his head. Finally he let out some tears. His shoulders shook once, then again, no loud sobs. No dramatic breakdown.

Just quiet tears falling onto the clean bandage wrapped around his hand.

Kim Ryul stopped pretending, she didn’t know what to say.

The weeks that followed felt… less awful. They talked now because they wanted to. Not because of the detention of Ryul. Nor because life had suddenly become easier.

It hadn’t. It would never.

Ryul still carried problems. Bruises. A broken heart. Disappointment.

y/n still went home to parents who barely noticed whether she was there or not. She tried to. Step by step, because of Ryul. Nothing around them had changed. They had, the hope they did. After that night, Being with her. At her side, where nobody expected him to pretend he was fine, He found himself being really observant and listening her, catching things she said.

She hated cigarettes. And for Ryul? the pack in his pocket stayed unopened longer than usual. She hated seeing him come back covered in bruises. He didn’t stop fighting… but for the first time, he started wondering if she was right. Maybe. Violence wasn’t the answer, he could find light in something else. In her.

He never told her. He simply…tried.

In his own way. He had a different way to show love.

y/n changed too in her own way. Still she always studied, got perfect grades. But she stopped believing every free minute had to belong to school, some days, she found herself waiting outside the gates because she knew Ryul would eventually appear to walk her home, Other times she let him drag her through the city with no destination at all, watch the stars, the moon, to save her. They walked more than they talked, but eventually that closeness crashed them, they eventually argued, because no one else would tell each other what they thought about them. y/n wouldn’t raise her voice with someone else that wasn’t Ryul, or Ryul wouldn’t show vulnerability to someone else who isn’t her, they argued. Fought, and sometimes they laughed over things that weren’t even funny. But they were trying to heal, heal each other, themselves. But they didn’t knew it.

Neither of them felt completely alone. For now.

But sometimes by little the heart starts losing its faith, losing the voice.

Little by little, their routine became each other. Loving each other harder. In their ways.

Not intentionally, It just… happened.

Some days Ryul would disappear before classes ended, only to show up the next day pretending nothing had happened.

Y/n would complain. He would shrug it off

They argued almost every single day. About his grades, because she was president at the end of the day.

About the bruises, he was killing himself.

About the people he picked on for no reason. Ruining their lives.

About how she spent every second of her life trying to be perfect. How she pretended to be someone she wasn’t, how she didn’t even dared to talk about her own opinions.

Neither of them ever won those arguments. Ryul would wait outside the student council room, leaning against the wall while pretending he wasn’t waiting for anyone. To apologize. When y/n walked out carrying another pile of paperwork, he’d look away immediately.

She’d roll her eyes. “You’ve been standing a whole life time.”

“You could’ve gone home.” She said.

“I know.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“…Then? Leave, why are you staying?”

“Idk, no reason” he said, there always was.

Some nights he’d throw tiny rocks against her bedroom window just to annoy her. Or to hang out with her. Sometimes she’d ignore him, others she’d open the curtains only to tell him to go away

But the other percentage of times… She left anyway, with him. They ever had a destination, through empty streets, they walked, the liked to. Past convenience stores, across bridges talking about nothing or talking about everything.

Ryul slowly stopped noticing how often he reached for a cigarette because every time he did… He remembered the look on her face by the Han River. Fuck. He would just, put them away. Throw the whole package away, or fail himself and light one…anyway.

He was turning into a completely different person, he doubted he would relapse.

He’d sigh. Changing wasn’t something that happened overnight.

He started changing, or at least he wanted to believe he was.

Life started to change, he had days when he went through a whole day without fighting with someone, or smoking.

He had days when he would walk drive home thinking about her, not everything he had lost.

Till that day. He was happy. He had just dropped y/n to her house. And suddenly the car connected to a phone call. An unknown number, he was going to ignore it but something told him to answer.

“Hello? Who is this?”

He recognized the voice, Dr. Kang, his mother’s doctor.

He started listening , his expression changed, he lost the color of his face. He just listened without talking, he just nodded.

“…I understand.”

The call ended, he stopped to calm himself a bit. He zoned out. His life was ruined. His mother was sick, he knew it, he had knew it even before his father died.

His hand slowly tightened around his phone. Until his knuckles turned white, her treatment wasn’t working and she needed another one

A more expensive one, money they didn’t have. Money she couldn’t raise by herself, she wasn’t even in condition to work.

He laughed. A quiet laugh. A faintly one.

Of course, he started changing, turning good…and life was about to give treat him just as his good father…maybe that was the problem, he shouldn’t be good.

He thought life was finally giving him a chance and it just reminded him who he was.

That night he didn’t even thought about her, didn’t threw about the cigarette.

He lit it, smoke burned his lungs, he felt it comforting. It felt familiar. His eyes drifted toward his phone, y/n’s last message.

“did you get home safely?”

His thumb hovered over the keyboard to answer, he wanted to tell her everything, but he couldn’t. He locked his phone, She had spent weeks trying to pull him out of that life, With the little strength she had, with the little mental and psychological stability she had, she tried, she really cared about him. But he wasn’t going to be the one dragging her back into it, into that dark hole he got himself into

Not again.

That night he barely slept, he knew he was about to relapse. He tried to close his eyes, but everytime he did it, the doctor’s voice. Treatment has to start as soon as possible Money, money he didn’t have.

The following days he began to evade her and act as if nothing was happening, it was a cycle. And it was happening again. He began to act as if that phone call had never happened.

He didn’t wanted to face her. And every place where he knew she would be. He didn’t even walked close to 100 meters. Eventually he spoke to her again. But he denied everything. That he was fine, that her smile was not enough to erase all those thoughts she had in her head, He stopped waiting outside the student council room. He left school before detention. He ignored her messages.

“We don’t talk anymore, are you okay?”

seen

He couldn’t, he couldn’t let himself answer. And y/n felt like he hadn’t change at all, that he let someone as Kim Ryul into her life. She should’ve known that his love was going to be pure pain, a game.

When she called his name in the hallway he kept walking. Every step felt heavier than the last and he started hating himself for it, every time he saw her… He remembered the promise he had never actually made. He broke his promise. That he would try to be better, for himself, for her.

He couldn’t. Not anymore. He spent the next week looking everywhere, Part-time jobs, Convenience stores, Restaurants, Anywhere. He laughed every single time someone said, “We’ll call you.” Nobody ever did.

The hospital bills kept arriving. He knew that none of those jobs would cover the hospital bills. The numbers kept getting bigger. He opened the drawer beneath his bed at the very back, Lay the gloves. Still stained. Still smelling like sweat and blood. He stared at them for a long time long enough to convince himself to close the drawer again.

He couldn’t do it, betray himself like that,

Not after everything y/n had done. Not after all those nights by the Han River. Nights like these. Not after promising himself he would become someone his father would’ve been proud of.

He slammed the drawer off. Walked away, paced around his room anxiously. He came back, Opened it again, Picked up the gloves. Closed his eyes.

“…I’m sorry.”

y/n the next few days. She only saw how he began to assist to school all beaten up, like that boy he was before her. He kept ignoring her. He disappeared out of nowhere, he continued to have that unpleasant cigarette smell. She got tired of that and decided to do something. By the time school started, she’d already spoken with the principal. Not because she wanted Ryul punished. Because she knew if she simply asked him to talk he wouldn’t. The announcement came during second period. Ryul was resting his head over his desk, sleeping.

“Kim Ryul. Student council office.”

He barely reacted. He got up annoyed. What have he done now? He haven’t beat anyone…in school. He let out a loud scoff before standing up, shoving his hands into his pockets as he made his way across the hallway. y/n stood by the window with her back turned to him, arms crossed tightly against her chest. She had been rehearsing everything she wanted to say all morning. She was trying to convince herself she wasn’t nervous, but she was.

The door clicked shut.

“…You wanted to see me?” He said. Silence.

His face looked worse than yesterday. She turned around, more bruises, another slip lip, and she knew she was going to get another excuse.

“i know, you started fighting again?.” She said, she sounded pissed. And worried. He didn’t answer.

“Ryul. You promised you’d try, gosh, didn’t you even tried?.” She said faintly.

“What are you fucking saying? I never promised anything and you don’t know anything about how hard I even tried.” He said annoyed, not wanting to hear her, big mistake.

“You did! Have your forgotten everything now?! Are you serious?!.” She raised her voice.

“I didn’t.” He said and more silence. She hated that he could lie while looking directly into her eyes.

“I know you fought again, you’re fighting again, and smoking…and drinking.” She said. Her heart burned she saw his face like that. He looked away.

Something inside her finally broke.

“What was all of this then?” She asked. She gestured between them.

“Everything you told me. Was that all a joke?”

Ryul clenched his jaw. She was being self centered. “It wasn’t, what are you talking about?.”

“Then why?! Why did you had to throw it all away?! Why couldn’t you live without damaging yourself?! Gosh if I knew you were fighting again I would do something about it!”

“I thought you knew!” He said raising his voice. He could’ve told her. About the hospital. About the bills. About his mother. He opened his mouth. Closed it again, He couldn’t.

“…You wouldn’t understand.”

She scoffed. “you’re really weak for all that tough mask. You don’t even give me the chance to. I’m trying to protect you. To save you!”

“I don’t need you to protect me nor save me! I DONT WANT YOUR PITY!” He said

“You don’t know what you’re asking. And you don’t know how to let people stay.” She shouted.

He felt something inside him crack.

“You think this is easy for me? You’re being so damn self centered as always!” He said

“I think I think you stopped trying! You gave up as nothing, like it’s not worthy.” She shouted

His eyes met hers. There was no anger. Only disappointment. Not in her. In himself.

He nodded once. Turned around. And walked toward the door. y/n watched him leave, She wanted him to stop to turn around and be honest. He didn’t

She thought he had chosen that life over her, chosen her over violence, and he walked through the empty hallway without looking back, Even though every step hurt.

Not because of the bruises. Because he had chosen to let her hate him. Thinking it would hurt less than watching her drown with him.

He never came back after that, Not that day and not the next one either. She convinced herself she didn’t care, she buried herself in homework. Meetings. Reports. University applications but it didn’t work. Every hallway reminded her of him, every oud laugh sounded like his for just a second.

Ryul sat alone inside his car. His father’s car, Parked outside the old warehouse where the fights were held, his gloves rested in the passenger seat. The same pair he had promised himself he’d never wear again, People walked past his window, calling his name, Another fight on another night. Another envelope full of money, worthy because his mother needed. His hand reached for the gloves, he stopped. He looked at them for a long time. Long enough to remember another pair of hands, smaller, more careful. Carefully wrapping bandages around his own.

“You’re going to feel like it’s burning.”

He smiled to himself, he grabbed the gloves and held them tightly. He set them back down. He started the engine and not toward the warehouse. Toward her. He wasn’t running away, not anymore. He was finally going to tell her everything.

About why he’d disappeared, about why he’d let her hate him, why he hurt her. He didn’t know whether she’d forgive him and he wasn’t even sure she should but he just knew that she deserved the truth.

The rain began before he reached her neighborhood, it was soft at first and then it got heavier, the windshield blurred beneath the water as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his heartbeat wouldn’t slow down, he had rehearsed the words a hundred times.

“I’m sorry.” It was too simple.

“I lied.” It wasn’t enough.

“I love you.” It was already late.

He scoffed quietly. He was a mess for her

By the time Ryul reached her neighborhood, the rain got heavier and the streets were almost empty, dark. Streetlights reflected over the wet pavement. He parked outside her house, shutting the engine off for a moment while his hands remained resting on the steering wheel. Debating himself what he should do.

He had imagined this conversation a hundred different ways. He scoffed quietly to himself.

“…You really are an idiot Kim Ryul...” he mumbled to himself. He remembered the first night he had stood outside that same house, throwing tiny rocks against her window just to annoy her. And back then he hadn’t realized he was slowly falling in love with her, he always thought she was just another strange girl, a weird quiet nerd to mature for their age, but now, she had became the first person he wanted to run towards and tell everything, somehow, she was the only person he had ever lied to and hurt.

He grabbed his phone and looked for her contact, he opened their conversation.

The last message she had sent days ago was still there, He had never answered, his thumb hovered over the keyboard.

“can we talk?” Typed again.

“i’m outside.” Deleted it.

Not through a message, or a screen, he left the car, the cold rain soaking through his hoodie almost immediately, the familiar window on the second floor was still lighting, thankfully she was awake, of course she was, always staying awake longer than she should, he looked around… picked up a small pebble from the ground and threw it to her window.

It hit the glass with a soft tap…twice.

seconds later… the curtains moved and he saw her pulling them aside, she stared down at him, confused, pissed.

He looked exhausted, those eyes. Tired of life, his hair soaked from the rain, split lip that hadn’t healed, bruises beneath his eye had turned a red tone like it was barely healing, and she wasn’t gonna lie but looked worse than he had at school.

But yet, Ryul wasn’t looking away, He was looking at her almost pleading, she hesitated bc a part of her told her to close those damn curtains…make him feel exactly what she had felt; ignored and abandoned, but she followed the other part, the part she hated admitting still existed. Disappearing from the window.

The front door opened quietly, she walked toward the passenger side of the car, crossing her arms against the cold.

“…What do you want?” She asked covering herself with a jacket. He opened the door for her, he didn’t even answer immediately, he just looked at her, Like he was afraid this might be the last time.

“…Please.Just… hear me out okay?” He said almost pleading. Still opened the door for her, she got inside, rain continued falling around them.

The car remained still, and neither of them looked at each other. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It was heavy. Really annoying.

Ryul kept both hands around the steering wheel, staring through the windshield while driving. He parked and too a deep breath to speak.

“…I went to the fight…and I think you-“

He was saying but she interrupted him

“I know you went to fight again” she said.

“And I knew it, that you knew…and I couldn’t leave the car, I just… sat there.”

He said and his laugh came out empty.

“I kept thinking about what you said to me last day...gosh I got mad at you, I got angry. I told myself you didn’t understand.” He scoffed and passed a hand through his face

“I thought you were being self centered…but it- but the whole time I was just hoping you were wrong.”

“I drove away…I couldn’t do it...” he looked at her. And for the first time since getting into the car she dared to look at him too.

“…Then why the fuck did you disappear?” She said. She was hurt, not pissed.

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

“My mom.— it doesn’t matter…I made a mistake…”

His eyes looked exhausted, and not from crying but because he was carrying too much for too long. y/n lowered her eyes.

“I didn’t tell you because…” he said. he shook his head.

“I didn’t tell you because if you knew… You would’ve stayed, you would have tried fixing everything! You would’ve carried that with me” he clenched his jaw and shook his head..he started driving again. Slower.

“And i…I just…I couldn’t let you.” He said turning to see her. She stared at him. For a long moment…

“Are you idiot? You don’t get to decide that for me?! Did you even thought about how I would feel—If I knew—...” Her voice broke.

“You don’t get to push me away, ignore me and treat me like shit and call it protecting me!!”

“y/n! I know!”

“You don’t get to disappear! That’s bullshit!” She said, and every ‘I know’, every one sounded the same. Ashamed.

Tears had started falling before she even noticed. She shook her head and turned to see him.

“…Do you know how much I hated you these past weeks? Don’t you think you deserved that?”

He nodded.

“Why you?— Ugh! Why you’re so impossible…!.”

She corrected herself almost immediately.

“…I tried to understand you.”

Ryul smiled sadly. And scoffed.

“…Neither could I.” He looked back through the windshield, and those words he’d been terrified of saying his entire life suddenly felt…

“Yk. I spent years thinking my dad was wrong.” He said still driving, but he wanted to see her face. She looked at him.

“He believed people were worth loving. And gosh I thought he was stupid.” He said. And she started to felt it…no…she shook her head.

“I thought that’s what got him killed, but then…gosh…”

He looked at her again. “I met you. Life put you in my way… and I was—…I kept asking myself why…why you?“

“Why someone like you would even look at someone like me?? Why??” He said, she felt how his voice trembled,

“And I finally understood that It wasn’t because you wanted to save me and neither It was because you felt sorry for me…You just…” He smiled through tired eyes.

“…saw me…You saw me before I even remembered who I was…gosh I never wanted to heal, I just wanted someone who saw me..”

He laughed quietly, shaking his head.

“I’m really bad at this talking, opening my heart to someone…you already know that…I’ll try to..” he said and took another breath

“But I just want you to know that if I leave tonight without saying it…I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” His eyes never left hers. He kept driving, but turned to see her anyway…

“…y/n…I love you…you…you complete me..” he said, Not because you’re perfect…Not because you always know what to say and nor because you tried to change me… “I love you because…when I look into your eyes…I see the only person that only believes in me...You make me remember who I was before I threw my life to the shitty world I’m in, the world wasn’t worth believing in…gosh I sound so pathetic but you…” he took a deep breath.

“You make me want tomorrow.”

y/n covered her mouth, trying to stop herself from crying, She had imagined hearing those words. Dreamed of them…but not like this, not after everything.

She slowly shook her head.

“Stop…stop…you don’t mean that..”

His eyes widened, she looked away immediately.

“y/n I do!” He said.

“No you don’t! That you—that you feel that it’s a big mistake…We’re not good for each other” she said

“watching you destroy yourself is destroying me too.” She said

“I can’t keep wondering every night if you’re alive, you worried the shit out of me.” She shouted.

“We’re two broken people. We don’t match okay! We don’t know how to love without hurting each other! And you just prove me that!”

She raised her voice, he kept driving, but his body was trembling.

“You don’t get to say that now and pretend that I’ll fix everything! Don’t- don’t- just don’t…you don’t get to disappear and come back like this and tell me I love you like it’ll fix everything!” She said, it was haunting her, she loved him, but she was sorry…she still couldn’t say it out loud.

“It doesn’t okay?! It hurts and it’s all your damn fault!” She said, her breathing became uneven.

“You keep choosing that life. Every single time…and…one day they’re going to kill you.” She said

“And I’ll have to live knowing I wasn’t enough to stop you…!” She said

Silence felt over them. She wiped her tears angrily.

“I can’t love someone who’s constantly choosing to destroy himself…if you’re alive..can’t spend every day wondering if you’re coming back alive. love isn’t enough. never was.”

She reached for the door handle. He was in shock. Ryul panicked.

“…What the fuck are you doing?”

She opened the door.

“Y/n don’t! Come inside y/n, please.” She started walking away through the rain. To the opposite direction.

“Shit shit- you gotta be kidding me, the opposite direction??..”

He watched her getting farther.

“…y/n!” He shouted but she didn’t turn around.

“…Shit.” He cursed

He threw the gear into reverse. Only thinking about catching up to her. Not the road. Not the rain. Not the headlights appearing behind him.

Invading the opposite side and then…all that happened at once, a deafening crash, glass that exploded across the road…

y/n froze, her breathing stopped.

She turned around, the world seemed to move slower than before. It was impossible, it was dream…a nightmare…

Ryul’s car had spun across the road, crushed against the front of a truck…The windshield had shattered completely.

She started running. Cars stopped.People worried. Someone shouted to call an ambulance. She didn’t hear any of it. She reached the driver’s side, slipping onto her knees against the wet pavement.

The door wouldn’t open.

“…HELP SOMEONE HELP!…” Her trembling hands hit the window over and over, blood slowly ran down the side of his face, eyes were closed. She hit the window harder.

“please..I— someone help!”

People walked and tried to open the door but it was impossible with the car destroyed. Her voice broke completely. The rain mixed with the tears running down her face. Somebody pulled her back as firefighters and paramedics rushed toward the wreckage. She fought against their grip.

The flashing ambulance lights reflected across the soaked pavement. One paramedic looked at another.

She realized something far more terrifying than loving him…She might lose him before she ever had the chance to tell him the truth.

The hospital smelled like antiseptic, it was a smell so but so quiet, familiar and at the same time so depressing and depressing. The doctors rushed past her, shouting words she couldn’t understand. Nurses pushed stretchers down endless hallways. Someone asked her to sit down, She didn’t, tbh…she wasn’t even listening, she just wanted to hear his voice..or at least someone’s else’s voice saying that he’ll be okay…was he?

She remained outside the operating room, Still soaked from the rain but she couldn’t care less…she was regretting everything…While still staring at the doors that had swallowed Ryul…Time stopped making sense, those minutes became hours, became nothing…Please don’t do this, Not him, Not after everything, he’d been trying to be better…

The red light above the operating room finally turned off, the doctor stepped outside.

“…He survived the surgery.” He said

She forgot how to breathe. Didn’t sounded so good…Her heart dropped.

“…He’s in a coma.”

The rest of the sentence disappeared beneath the ringing inside her ears. Coma.

The word echoed over and over again,

She nodded because she couldn’t do anything else…

Hours later…she quietly stepped inside his hospital room…Machines filled the silence…a horrible silent…

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, the oxygen flowing through his mask a lot of bandages…and bruises…she covered her mouth, with a trembling hand stopping her from crying. She slowly sat beside the bed while looking at him

“…You know…” she said and chuckled faintly…Quietly…

“…You’re really annoying. You spent months trying to make me talk.” She said

“You kept saying I should stop hiding…You told me to scream…” she said biting her lip while looking around.

“You told me to say what I felt. And now…”

Another laugh, a broken one

“…Now you’re the one who won’t say anything…Gosh Ryul…you’re the only person who has ever seen me in another way, not in that..that perfect student way…”

Her fingers slowly found his hand, she grabbed it carefully like if she was afraid of hurting him. “…You asshole…” she said

“…You said you loved me. I didn’t answer.”

Another tear rolled down her cheek.

“But you wanna know something fun?”

“That I haven’t love anyone else as much as I love you…but I was so scared…”

“Do you know how scary that is?”

“I was scared. So scared. I acted like I didn’t care..but…I was scared that one day you’ll come around and say ‘hey you’re not worth it’…yeah..” she chuckled faintly…broken”

“And..I kept telling myself loving you would only hurt…” she said while smiled through tears.

“But it—It hurts a lot more without you.”

She looked down at their hands. Caressing his bruised knuckles…

“…The truth is…I love you too.” She admitted.

“I’ve loved you for longer than I wanted to admit…and yeah…you also complete me..”

“Gosh I’m so stupid, i swear I loved waiting for detention just to hear you…I loved hearing those stupid rocks hit my window.” She scoffed smiling…

“I loved walking with no destination. I loved arguing with you and I even loved how much you annoyed me.” Her shoulders trembled.

“You were the first person who ever looked at me…Really looked at me…My parents never did…My classmates never did.”

“…You did.” She said as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand

“And the only person who ever saw me…”

“…can’t even open his eyes.”

“I finally found my voice.”

She laughed again.

“…You’re gonna be so mad you weren’t awake to hear it. Yey, you did it Kim Ryul, you did it…”

She squeezed his hand gently.

“I love you…I always will…You better wake up or I’ll kill you…Because I’m not done arguing with you yet.”

The heart monitor continued beeping. SHe looked at him…she leaned and lay her head over his chest.

“y/n…just so you know…I’m glad you finally found your voice.

You always thought I was trying to teach you how to speak and Yeah maybe, kinda of but actually..just so you know that you were teaching me too, gosh.. You taught me that being kind wasn’t the same as being weak, you opened my eyes, maybe my dad wasn’t wrong at all. He was a good man.

I wish I could tell you not to worry, but you already know I’ve never been very good at keeping promises..facts…yk, There are so many things I’ve hidden from you, not because I wanted to lie, but because every time I looked at you, I wanted you to keep smiling just a little longer. I was afraid that if you knew everything, I’d drag you into the same darkness I’ve been living in for years…and you with that smile you showed me there were still people worth believing in.

My mom got sick and the stupid treatment stopped working, didn’t have the money. I looked for jobs and guess what? Nobody wanted me, yeah no shit. so I just went back, Not because I stopped trying. Don’t take me as weak please, but bc I thought there wasn’t another way…

I know you’re probably angry. You have every right to be. You tried so hard to pull me away from this life, and I still went back, I wish I could tell you I was stronger than that, but I wasn’t… it’s embarrassing, maybe that’s the hardest thing for me to admit. I spent so much time pretending I didn’t care about anyone that I forgot what it felt like to be scared of losing someone, I lost the most important person in my life before, and now I’m sorry I made you believe none of it was real. Everything was real even every stupid rock I threw at your window. It was real.

And I didn’t forgot to answer this, that you once asked me why I always looked at you the way I did, the truth is that I never saw the girl who always had good grades, or the student council president everyone admired, pfff, I don’t even look at girls, I was too distracted pretending to be a tough guy but the truth is that I saw someone who kept giving every piece of herself away just to be noticed by people who never bothered to look. Btw your parents are jerks. Fuck them, okay I’m kidding..but iI wanted to tell you every single day that you never had to earn love. You were always enough. I just never knew how to say it out loud. For me you are. I’m not very good at writing and yk that. I’ve always been better at throwing punches than putting feelings into words, But this is the first time in my life…

I’m writing with my heart instead of my fists.. If you’re reading this…

It means I never found the courage to tell you all of this myself, please don’t wait for me. Live. Laugh loudly. Argue with people. Tell your parents exactly how you feel. Scream at the Han River again. Promise me you won’t spend your life waiting for someone who couldn’t stay.

And… Be happy. Even if I’m not there to see it.

With love, Ryul.

[eu4mi]

IT’S JUST A SHAME, THAT'S ALL

➪ pairing : ot5 cortis x 6th member reader

➪ summary : you disappear hours after a concert, your family reports you missing but the company states that you left voluntarily. cctv shows differently. nothing makes sense, especially with everyone moving on so fast.

➪ other notes : very heavily based on kpop lost footage and analog horror <3 this is my first time posting something like very horror related so im a little nervous but im actually happy with this. creds to @/norvixa6 and @/rnbrednblue on tiktok for making awesome analog horror.

“breaking news : y/n l/n from hit kpop group cortis has officially been reported missing by her family this morning. authorities have confirmed that the idol was last seen was on CCTV footage at 2 : 39 in the morning, just hours after cortis concluded their concert last night. in the footage, y/n was wearing the same stage outfit she had performed in earlier that evening. the grainy footage shows the teenager sprinting in a parking garage, barefoot and physically agitated.

she looks over her shoulder multiple times, and with this repeating motion, investigators confirmed her identity with facial recognition. the footage contains no audio nor where there any witnesses near by that could have intervened or watched the scene. no search party has been organized and officials have not yet confirmed if a ground search will be conducted, stating that the investigation is still in its early stages.

at this time, hybe and bighit music have not made a statement regarding y/n’s disappearance. if you have any information of y/n’s whereabouts, please reach out to authorities immediately. we hope she returns safely home…and with that, later tonight in the world cup, south korea plays against-“

taglist one : @iconicallyher @cherrystays @spqrkles @btsgangleader @aaassshhhaaa @yunjiiin @myuekii @nota10butadefinite8 @cvntycapricornxx @mariyariririri @user6373738 @coquettegirlyenha @simplyangelixa @fayepz @emmaxdelicate @haru-reto @vanillakirstein @yatta-exe @dropitlowkey @coldpinguinsstuff @cortischronicles @staarflowerr @sweetbabysblog @bunniestial @vilihente @ludmiig @09zpzkeonnss @feljxx @prettygirlkiki @toasterlickerr @ratyrozz @wouldntyouliketoknowweatherboy @miasitta @fujiswn @hiitzstar @martinthisho @qeysss @amb4rluvs @meiisamotherbitch @lcvehyeon @unseenleylinesecret @rickyshensgirlfriend @kpopsmutty69 @anflowers11 @taelvvrzz @cookyland @hironosushiis @amethyystlvr @hudhudje @kienhawon

[eu4mi]

IT’S JUST A SHAME, THAT’S ALL — THROUGH THE LENS OF MARTIN

➪ pairing : ot5 cortis x 6th member reader

➪ summary : the prequel to part one. martin's seen you time and time again get smart with staff, it's no wonder that something was bound to happen, at least in his opinion.

➪ other notes : credits to @/vrtxveil on tiktok for the cortis analog horror imagery. i tried my best to tag everyone, i'm so sorry if i missed your name. there will be at least two more parts, maybe even three if people want me to continue this ! i apologize if this feels rushed, but pay attention :)

“no one can know, do you understand ?” martin looks up at the group’s manager, eyes wide. he nods regardless, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows whatever saliva he has in his throat. martin’s always been an obedient rebel. he’ll express himself in many ways, fighting for what he believes, but he’s a fierce listener, loyal to no end. that was his first mistake.

you’re not like martin. yes you’re passionate about your interests and expressive about your feelings, but you’re hot headed. not perfect by any standards, a little rough around the edges but that’s what makes you, well you. you don’t hesitate to call out anyone who’s disrespectful or shady, confidence booming in your voice. that’s exactly why hybe and bighit liked you. liked.

martin wishes he could be a little like you. aggressive and self assured. he’s almost positive you’d make a great leader if it weren’t for your constant attitude. not to the boys, never to them, but to the company itself. when your makeup artist tells you your complexion looks sickly ? you say it’s the lack of food the staff provides.

when your fashion designer pinches at extra skin, you swat their hand away immediately. martin’s even heard you say “fuck bang pd,” in a fit of rage. i mean how could something so pretty have a mouth like that ? but he still thinks that you would have made a better leader than him. someone who actually stands up for the group rather than just submit to whatever the company says.

he’s never even seen you afraid ! so locked in on your own beliefs that no one will even tilt you another way. there was a particular time where a male staff member tried to put their hands on you, in which you immediately fought back, not caring for any repercussions. it ended in james and your manager pulling you off the man, martin couldn’t move from how caught off guard he was.

despite that, it wasn’t all that surprising coming from you. except for the following set of your words : “if anyone ever tries to hit me again, i’ll tell everyone the lies and shit you’ve covered up.” everyone tensed up immediately, going silent. you weren’t referring to a specific person, you’re saying it in general, knowing there’s cameras in the practice room. what did you know that the other five of them didn’t ?

maybe that’s why this had to happen. if you only kept your mouth shut, this wouldn’t have happened. why’d you go out of your way to ruin something that’s fine ??? are all thoughts martin has of you. but he loves you, even with all of your flaws. platonic or romantic, does it really matter ? so he lets you in on one piece of information, in hopes that you’ll get away fast enough.

it was the day of THE concert. you were in a better mood than usual, excited for the stage outfit your designer picked out for you. hell, even your makeup artist complimented your skin today. it seems like people are finally listening to you ! everything seems fine until you notice martin fidgeting more than usual.

it confuses you, martin’s typically not like this. he’s the one hyping everyone up, and it’s not like this is the group’s first concert, you’ve done this dozens of times before ! so when the time is perfect, you pull him aside, thankfully the hallway is quiet and empty. “are you okay ?” you ask the taller boy, furrowing your eyebrows. “me ? yeah i’m good,” he smiles, a little too wide.

“you said we’d be each other’s person if one of us is upset,” you cross your arms as martin shifts uncomfortably. suddenly, he looks to the right of him, then the left, before pulling you harshly into the women’s bathroom. you automatically fight back, shocked as to what’s happening. “martin what are you-“ he covers his mouth before shushing you, tears in his eyes.

“don’t say a single word, just listen to me,” he whispers, your eyes going wide with anger. “something’s gonna happen after the concert, i can’t say for sure what but i know that it’s tonight, you can’t be alone with anyone,” martin explains in a haste. and for the first time in all of the years he’s known you, fear fills your eyes. he releases his grip on you before stepping back. you’re still frozen in place as worry washes over you.

“why ?” you ask in a small voice. martin scoffs and shakes his head, “why else ? you blow up at everyone, you mouth off staff and even almost beat our senior choreographer up !” you look at him confused, “what are you talking about ? mars this isn’t my fault, you know why i-“ the rest of your words drown out as martin rubs his face.

“it doesn’t matter what you think anymore, it’s about what they think of you y/n,” he groans, obviously agitated by the situation. “then help me,” you step closer to him. he shakes his head, “i can’t, the company, they’ll-“ “mars i’m your best friend, and i have been for years,” you cut him off. martin looks at you, seeing tears starting to form in your eyes. he couldn’t remember the last time you looked this small.

martin thinks before sighing, “okay.” a breath of relief leaves your mouth. “but don’t tell the others, you’ll only worry them,” he clarifies, making you nod. “i know, just please don’t let anything happen to me,” you plead. he looks into your tearful eyes, nodding. there’s only so much he can do without attracting suspicion.

throughout the night, martin’s eyes keep flickering towards you. he doesn’t even care if fans speculate his watchful gaze. you on the other hand try your best to keep your composure during the concert. you’re typically a firecracker on stage, full of emotion and energy. but this time, your performance is lackluster to say the least.

martin wouldn’t even be surprised if netizens got on your ass about it. but even though the same fearful thoughts consume your mind, martin sees you let out a wobbly laugh at james’ silly jokes. he sees you clumsily throw a water bottle to juhoon. he sees you tightly hug seonghyeon, not pulling away first. and he sees you fix keonho’s microphone. even in a crisis like this, you still take care of others.

after the concert, martin’s stuck to your hip, adrenaline still pumping through everyone’s veins. the other four for a different reason than you and martin’s. eventually you’re all led into a different room to rest before you all go back to your hotel. you take your shoes off, feeling your big toe pulse in pain. you look at the inside of the shoe, a size smaller than your regular size.

you hadn’t even noticed before, you just took the pair from your stylist without a second thought. your gaze shifts to your socks, several holes made. did you make those ? you grind your teeth before taking them off, now barefoot. seonghyeon immediately covers his nose, earning a playful slap from you. you can’t help but to think, is everyone in on this ?

“y/n,” you snap your head at the manager, his face cold. “can you come with me for a second ?” you try to hide your expression as best as you can. “for what ?” you ask, slowly standing up. the other five boys stare at the manager, waiting his response. “techs need your in-ears,” he states, how do you even get out of this situation ? “i can take it for her, i need to turn mine in too,” martin interrupts.

“would have been better if she just came but sure,” the manager walks away. you sigh, giving martin a thankful look. “we need to go,” martin whispers, taking your in-ears. you look at your members, “now y/n.” you nod, martin tries to usher you out of the room but is stopped by james. “where are you two going ?” you look at your older friend, making a random excuse.

“just gonna get some stuff from the corner store before we go,” you lie. “i want to go !” keonho excitedly says, getting up. “no stay, it’d be too obvious if you came along,” martin shakes his head, keonho’s signature pout forming. “alright, but can you bring that one brand of chips i like ?” he asks, sitting back down. “yeah of course, we’ll be back, i swear,” you smile before leaving.

almost immediately, martin is dragging you behind him. “wait wait wait !” you trip over your feet in an attempt to slow him down. “what ?! there’s no time to wait !” martin whisper yells. “you need to promise me something,” “huh what ? why ? promise you what ?” he rambles nervously. “if anything…if anything happens to me, promise me that you won’t let them say i was the one who ran away, that i was the one who quit.”

martin looks into your dilated eyes. oh, you’re being serious. “nothing’s going to happen-“ “promise me,” you demand of him. “…okay, i promise that i’ll defend your honor no matter what,” he reassures you. he wraps his arms around you, bringing you for a hug. you shut your eyes, heart beating fast, you can even hear it thump in your ears. it doesn’t help that your hands and feet feel so cold from anxiety.

“i don’t even have my shoes or socks on, how did those dummies believe me ? you mumble, which martin laughs at. “it’s okay, i’ll let you use mine, just tie them extra tight,” martin offers. “but first, we need to get to the parking garage, don’t ask questions, let’s just go before anyone gets suspicious,” he continues, this time you actually listen and start to make your way downstairs.

you basically run down a flight of stairs, in a hurry to wherever martin’s taking you. once you’re halfway in the parking garage, martin stops before gripping your shoulders. “you need to leave this way, security is always here for these types of events, this is the only place i know that doesn’t have anyone.” “where am i supposed to go ?” you lift his hands from your shoulders. “anywhere y/n, it doesn’t matter, just not-“ martin pauses.

“shit !” he pulls you behind a car, crouching cautiously. a door is swung open, bouncing off the wall. you cover your mouth with your own hand, looking at martin with fear. he brings up a finger to his lips, staying completely quiet. a loud sigh can be heard before a familiar voice. “martin, i know you’re here with her, don’t make this difficult, just stop,” the manager states, his shoes can be heard clicking.

“think of the group martin, do what’s right.” martin freezes, fuck they already know. now it’s his turn to think. he needs to protect you, but he’s never disobeyed anyone before. you’re his colleague, but you’ve done wrong. you’re his friend and someone he sees every day. what can he do to help both sides ? what’s the right choice ? what should he do ? martin turns to you, tears are streaming down your face, he’s never seen you like this.

“mars i’m begging you, don’t do this to me, i’m your best friend, please,” you cry, grabbing his hands. a moment of silence goes by before martin squeezes your hands. a single thought of realization shoots through his head. james. juhoon. seonghyeon. keonho. himself. years of training, the five of them…or just you. “yeah…she’s here,” martin abruptly calls out, standing up, pulling you with him.

you shriek a “no,” before using all of the force you can muster to shove him away before standing up and running from behind the car. you sprint down the parking garage, bare feet against the hard concrete. the more you look back, the closer the people chasing you get. you finally arrive to the gate, mashing every button to get it to lift up. you drop to the floor, crawling underneath the gate.

your hopes however are cut almost instantly. someone pulls your ankles back harshly, you cry out, your knees scraping against the ground. “no, please, i haven’t done anything !” you shout as a man lifts you into the air, leaving your blood soaking into the concrete. you screamed for your life, pleading that someone, anyone, would help you. “martin please !” you continue to fight.

martin stays still in his place, paralyzed as he watches you struggle against a man twice your size. eventually, you’re hauled into a van, one you hadn’t even realized was there before, and even then your cries for help continue. martin just stares, hearing the engine start before it pulls off. it’s quiet again, a quiet that lingers in his soul. why did you trust him ? he told you not to trust anyone. he warned you, he tells himself.

he tried to warn you…he tried to tell you to be careful, didn’t he ? martin lets out a shaky sigh as a single tear drops from his face. “you won’t have to worry about her anymore, the problem is gone,” the manager places a hand on martin’s shoulder, causing him to flinch a little. martin stares at his shoes, before the manager says his final set of words for this situation.

“no one can know, do you understand ?”

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