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living in gray areas of your city, out of the way of gangs and mafia territories, could only keep you safe for so long. it was only a matter of time before you began running into problems, or rather, problems began running into you.
▷ genre, warnings. nc-17, strangers 2 lovers, slow burn, mafia au, angst?, swearing, action, mentions of alcohol, mentions of dead bodies, mentions of injuries and violence, threats of committing arson
▷ word count. 4.3k
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CHAPTER TWO: FROM THE WITNESS
MINGI AND YUNHO PUSHED OFF the alleyway wall as Hongjoong emerged from the back employee entrance. With winter swiftly approaching, the days became shorter and nights even longer. The last time he was in this alley, he had been pretending to be inebriated as you slung him over your shoulder and told him where the nearest metro stop was. The last time he was here, the night had ended in five dead bodies and no answers to their questions.
That was a properly unproductive evening.
You had saved him that night by one, telling him where his stalkers were; and two, giving him a head start to surprise his attackers by shuttling him through the back exit. It would have ended the same way if he went through the main entrance, but with a few more injuries on his end. The night ended well for him because of you.
Then, there was the matter of the bomb at the bank.
“So?” Yunho asked as the two of them flanked their leader and fell into step with him. There was a car parked at the far end of the alley that was Hongjoong's. They would take it back into Ateez territory from here, back home.
“She took the card at the very least,” Hongjoong said as he unlocked his car with a bright chirp from the vehicle. He climbed into the driver's seat with Yunho in the passenger's side and Mingi in the back. “We don't need to pull anyone else into our problems though, so it's probably a good thing that she wants nothing to do with me.”
“Smart girl,” Yunho jested with a smile.
Hongjoong inclined his chin. He agreed.
“I don't think we're gonna get anything off her background check, hyung,” Mingi piped up, raising his phone screen where he had pulled up the group text chain amongst the close inner circle that ran the Ateez mafia. “She seems pretty damn clean to me.”
Yunho chuckled. “You say this as if we're clean ourselves.” However, Yunho knew well that “clean” meant you had no ties or affiliations to any of the other gangs or mafias in the city. That was quite rare to find, but it only meant that you had been born and raised in a gray area and were smart enough to keep it that way. Few people in this day and age could resist the siren song that some criminal groups sung, like riches and influence and safety.
But no prize came without a price.
That was something they had all learned during their time before they built this family, and they were still experiencing its drawbacks now.
“Have we got any hits on the bank security footage?” Hongjoong asked as he turned onto a street that passed beneath the Treasure Island bridge. Here marked the boundary between your gray area and Hala Town—Ateez territory—both unspoken and physical, as boasted by the scarlet red letter A in a circle, spray painted onto one of the lumbering support beams of the bridge.
Yunho scrolled through the updates from his people who were monitoring security feeds and broadcast channels. Everyone in the inner circle had their own “employees” working for them, like the departments in a company or, more appropriately, crews on a ship, with each high-ranking member the mate of said crew. “Nothing concrete yet,” he sighed, clicking his phone off and laying it in his lap.
“You would think someone stupid enough to impersonate you wouldn't be able to cover their tracks this well,” Mingi grumbled. He had no luck from any of his eyes and ears either.
Hongjoong's expression was schooled into careful neutrality, and the only sign of his annoyance from their situation came from the slight twitch in his jaw. “It's more like the opposite, I figure, Mingi-ah.”
Mingi hummed. “Ah, anyone with the guts to impersonate you must have a thorough plan not to get caught.”
“Mhm.”
As the more infamously known Captain, head of Ateez, Hongjoong only made choice appearances in public. When he was going out as the Captain, he was careful to wear the uniform—crow-headed cane, mask shielding the lower half of his face, and a hard glare. Oftentimes, he also brought along a hat to shield his eyes and the color of his hair. All of this was an effort to conceal his true features so he could still roam the world as Hongjoong without the burden of being Captain.
However, because he had an unmistakable uniform, someone thought themselves clever to impersonate him. This imposter had been their problem for the past couple of weeks as they attempted to track down this bastard, as well as the people who have constantly been trying to end the real Captain's life. Ateez's leaders believed them to be the same person attempting to accomplish these two crazy feats.
They were beginning to become more than just a thorn in Hongjoong's side.
The drive from the edge of Hala Town through the residential streets and business districts was a familiar one. It took about fifteen minutes to drive from the outskirts to the nearest harbor entrance. The main buzzing point of Hala Town was port-side, a club manifesting itself as an old shipwreck and fittingly called the Shipwreck, too.
The men of Ateez had bought the shipwreck and other properties along the water's edge when they were gathering up ranks and made a name for themselves, then fixed them all up. The Shipwreck was a small employee space on the upper decks, and a bar and gambling den on the lower decks. Patrons would enter through the gangway installed in the hold rather than boarding to the top deck.
As Hongjoong pulled his car up to a private area of the wharf, he killed the engine right outside the warehouse that Ateez marked as home. While the Shipwreck was their main place of legal business, this was where they had made their place of living.
“Yunho,” addressed Hongjoong as the three of them climbed out of the car and made their way to the warehouse entrance, “find out where Wooyoung is and get on that security footage. We need to crack down on that.”
Yunho gave a firm nod, “Aye, Captain.”
“And Mingi, round up the others. We have some matters to attend to regarding the council meeting in a few weeks.”
Mingi saluted him as he hauled the warehouse door open. “Aye, Captain.”
“Well, no need to come find us,” drawled Park Seonghwa from the other side of the door. It seemed that he was just unlocking the door from his end when Mingi opened it. There was a stiffness to the righthand's shoulders and jaw. “We've got some updates for you, Captain.”
Hongjoong nodded. “Yunho, Mingi—you’ll both come along then.”
With updated orders, everyone followed Seonghwa down the hall. Because they often did not handle official business in their home, the formal dining room was usually the room designated for any problems that arose. Seonghwa led them into the dining room outfitted with a long rectangular table, enough to fit about ten people. There was an empty hearth sitting at the far end, just below a mantle adorned in vases of flowers that Yeosang enjoyed maintaining.
There was someone seated at the closest end of the table to the entrance, surrounded by the remainder of Ateez's highest commanders. Hongjoong recognized him as one of the men under Seonghwa's specific section, a “lookout” named Jungwon. He seemed ashen with the blood drained from his face and his knee bouncing up and down with rapid pace.
From the looks of things, Hongjoong and the others’ entrance interrupted whatever hushed discussion Jungwon was having with Yeosang, San, Wooyoung, and Jongho.
“Captain on deck!” Seonghwa announced.
Everyone stood at attention, their spines yanked perfectly straight at the arrival of their captain. Usually, the members of Hongjoong's inner circle weren't so formal around him, but when others were present, it was imperative that an air of authority be established and maintained.
“At ease,” Hongjoong said, nodding for somebody to close the dining hall doors behind him. “Jungwon, isn't it?”
Jungwon bobbed his head. “Aye, Captain.”
“You can sit down.” The lookout obeyed. “Seonghwa tells me you've seen something of importance.”
Jungwon's eyes flickered between the right-hand and the captain. He swallowed. “Uh, aye. It was in—it was in the east corner, and I was there doing my rounds. I… I know this might sound crazy, but I overheard some whispers about—about Strictland.”
A wave of silence fell over the room. There was a distinct weight that came with that name—Strictland. It was a name that was only heard in hushed tones around here nowadays. Any other context was just asking for a fight or for the higher ups of Ateez to come knocking at your door. Strictland was the organization Hala Town used to be ruled by before Ateez won the turf war. Those from Strictland who weren't dead or turned to Ateez disappeared into the shadows.
Hongjoong was afraid of something like this—a return. It could only mean revenge and carnage much worse than the first round.
He didn't let his worry show on his face, however. It was important that he stayed calm and inspired the same careful confidence in his men. “Did you hear anything else, Jungwon? Or perhaps see anything?”
Jungwon fidgeted with the zipper of his hoodie. “Something about trying to proposition another family, another one of the groups in the city. But I could've heard incorrectly.” The latter was tacked on as a show of humility, but Hongjoong knew that there was a high chance the kid heard correctly; why else would Seonghwa take him so seriously?
Hongjoong trusted his people.
“Thank you, Jungwon. Your efforts won't go to waste.” Hongjoong clasped a reassuring hand on the lookout's shoulder, coaxing him up to his feet. “We'll make sure this gets addressed. In the meantime, have you eaten yet?”
A moment later, Hongjoong dismissed everyone from the room except for his second in command. As Hongjoong stood in the same place he had before, Seonghwa leaned back against the edge of the dining table, arms crossed firmly over his chest with a grave look on his face.
“How worried should we be?” Seonghwa murmured.
Hongjoong smoothed a hand over his jawline. There was a good chance that the imposter problems and attempts on his life were connected to the whisperings about Strictland's return. He couldn't shake the feeling clinging to his shoulders like a spiderweb. “We should be cautious,” he finally said. “I wouldn't be surprised if they tried to come back, so it's something we need to continue to be prepared for.”
Seonghwa nodded. “Aye,” he exhaled. He shook a strand of wavy, dark hair from his eyes. “And the girl? What happened there?”
“Nothing eventful,” Hongjoong sighed as the two of them began slowly walking out of the dining hall and toward the stairwell. “She wasn't interested in my business nor my help.”
His counterpart offered a small chuckle. They climbed the stairs up to the second floor of the warehouse, which was the main common area for the eight brothers-in-arms. “Good for her. She wasn't hurt from the explosion yesterday, was she?”
“Fortunately, she seemed alright.” Better to not involve innocent civilians in their mess. That was something Hongjoong hoped to avoid, but sometimes things happened that were out of his control.
“I do think it's interesting that she's appeared in the right place at the right time twice now,” Seonghwa mused. They ended up in the large living room space, and while Hongjoong collapsed into an armchair, Seonghwa went over to the liquor cart to pour out twin glasses of amber-colored liquid. “Do you believe in fate, Joong?” he asked this as he handed Hongjoong the second glass.
Hongjoong raised his eyebrows. “Fate? No. I believe in coincidence and intention.”
Seonghwa gestured toward him with his glass before he knocked back the liquid inside. He grimaced at the burn in his throat. “Ah, ever the romantic,” he teased.
The captain rolled his eyes good naturedly. “Forgive me for being a cynic. Now, the council meeting coming up—”
“Aish, always business with you.”
Hongjoong jammed his tongue into his cheek. “With the rumors about Strictland and their possible propositioning of other families, our game plan going into the meeting is all the more critical.”
Seonghwa sighed, nodding. “I know, I know.”
There had been a suspicion amongst the circle that the impersonator could be someone from an outside gang or mafia family attempting to gain control of Ateez land, as well as gray areas. Perhaps, an underlying worry was that it was Strictland instead, but with what Jungwon revealed, those underlying suspicions just became genuine concerns.
“Tell your people to watch their backs,” Hongjoong said quietly after a beat had passed. “Keep their eyes and ears open.”
Seonghwa pressed his lips together. “Aye, will do. You'll need to be careful, too, alright? No wandering around on your own, Joong. I'm serious.”
Hongjoong tipped his head back as he downed the alcohol sitting in the dregs of his glass. “No promises, but alright.”
You turned the business card between your hands for what felt like the one thousandth rotation. You sat on the couch in your apartment, your mug of coffee untouched on the coffee table and your mind blank. The card had fallen into your possession just last night when you met Kim Hongjoong, the man you apparently had saved not once, but twice.
A simple search online came up with nothing helpful. He didn't have an online presence, from what you could find, but the location of this Shipwreck place was not in a gray area—it was in Ateez territory. Not one to be privy to non-gray area locations, you knew nothing about Hala Town, only who ruled it.
Something you hadn't noticed last night, however, were the instructions on the back, reading simply: “Request for parley.” You didn't know what that meant either, but when you looked it up—parley—you learned that it was terminology used for discussions or conferences. Perhaps requesting for parley meant requesting an audience with someone, likely this Hongjoong character.
Though you pretty much rejected his offer of a double life debt, you still marinated on the possibilities. It was always good to have something to fall back on. You just weren't sure how trustworthy he was or what you would even ask of him.
Your head perked up at the sound of Ryujin emerging from her room, her pajamas swapped with business casual attire and her work bag slung over her shoulder. She shuffled over to you with a small smile. “Hey, how was work last night?” she asked quietly, squeezing your hand.
“It was good, fine,” you replied. You fisted the card in your lap, bringing your knees up to your chest. “Hey, have you ever been to the Shipwreck?”
You watched confusion flicker across your friend's face. She shook her head, her dark hair swaying as she did. “No, I don't think I recognize it, let alone have been there. What is it?”
“Just a club or a bar I think.” You gnawed your lip, glancing away to fib, “Y'know my coworker Leanne? She mentioned it last night offhandedly, I dunno. I think it's somewhere in Hala Town.”
Ryujin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Hala Town? That's…” She hesitated, then settled on, “Just tell her to be safe if she goes over there. I've heard some things…”
“What things?”
She sighed, perching onto the couch armrest. “You know—it just underwent a turf war less than three years ago. It could still be a minefield with the fresh ruling family; you know how that stuff is.”
You hummed something noncommittal, hand warming around the card to the point you were sure your skin's oil was destroying the paper fibers in it. You wondered if the ink would smudge.
She stood up. “Well, I'm off to work now. D'you need anything before I head out?”
“No, I'm good.” You exchanged a warm smile with her, and you reached up to squeeze her hand again. “Stay safe, Ryu.”
“You, too. Oh, when's your shift today?”
“Oh, uhm, I think I'm gonna leave a little early tonight, but I'll leave dinner on the stove.” It was your turn to cook anyway.
Ryujin slipped her shoes on at the door, a grateful nod sent your way. “Gotcha. See ya, babe,” she sang with a wiggle of her fingers in goodbye.
When she was gone, the apartment descended into another bout of silence. You framed the card up in front of you between your thumbs and index fingers, thinking… thinking… thinking. You turned Ryujin's words over and over again in your head… recalled the strife you'd undergone just in this past week…
You stood up and walked into your bedroom, opening the first drawer of your desk and shoving the card inside.
It wasn't worth it.
The remainder of your day carried on rather uneventfully. You managed to finish up something for one of your classes, as well as look into jobs in your field to apply to once you graduated. While working at the bar was fine, it was just to fund you through getting a degree in business management. After working at the same place for over a year, you found that your boss wasn't the most open to letting you gain managerial experience, so you needed to move on soon.
By the time it hit six o'clock, you put one category of work aside, and got ready for the other.
Dinner was left on the stove as promised, and you shucked on a thicker coat over your work clothes before heading out into the crispening night.
You took the metro to where the bar was located as per usual.
Saturday nights were always quite busy, and tonight was no exception. As you hung your coat and bag up in your locker, you were already being herded into the main room for service. The bar was packed like a can of sardines with patrons standing shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow. You'd had plenty of practice sharing breathing air with a packed house of drunkards, but it didn't make it any more pleasant.
You tucked your serving tray under your arm as you passed by one of your coworkers. “Hey, I'm gonna take my fifteen.”
Your coworker nodded, but stopped you, fishing something out from his waist apron. “Could you pass this along to the boss lady? It's a delivery slip from earlier, but she wasn't there to take it.”
“Yeah, sure,” you said, taking the folded slip from him and heading into the back hallway. You breathed out a haggard exhale, exhaustion seeping into your muscles and joints now that you weren't in work mode.
For a moment, you stayed there in the darkness of the corridor, your back pressed against the wall and your head tilted back. The sounds from the main barroom were muffled with the door closed, but it provided ample white noise for you to take a breather.
Maybe a step out into the night air would do you some good, you thought, pushing off the wall and quietly stepping over to your boss's office at the end of the hallway. A sliver of warm light from beneath the closed door sliced through the hallway's darkness, and you followed it like a moth to a flame to find your way.
As you got closer, however, you realized that there were voices coming from inside the office. You recognized your boss's voice as one of them, but you didn't recognize the other. The latter was lower, more masculine.
“—I know you're paying dues to the pirate king.”
“If you're planning to blackmail me with this information,” your boss drawled, “then I'm afraid you're wasting your time. The Captain doesn't own this establishment, so it's perfectly in line with the rules.”
You pressed closer to the door, hoping to crane your ears and hear more. This wasn't a conversation you were supposed to hear, but your boss just admitted to paying tribute to Ateez's Captain in a gray area. This could likely endanger people's safety, including your own. (Why the Hell was this happening to you so often lately, and could it stop?)
“I'm not here to blackmail you; I'm here to make a proposal.”
A beat passed. “I'm listening.”
You held your breath as you waited for the other person to speak their mind. Your entire body was frozen there in the hallway, for fear that one small move might alert them to your eavesdropping.
“I am proposing an alliance, if you will, between you and my organization. In exchange for your loyalty, we will not only grant you protection but also the shares and ownership of the Shipwreck waterfront property. Prime real estate and good business.”
Your ears perked up at the familiar name. The Shipwreck? Was that not in Hala Town? That was a good distance away from this hole in the wall, but if he was offering ownership of the Shipwreck, then—no. No, that wasn't Kim Hongjoong's voice in that office, though. Who was this mystery person?
Your boss let out a small laugh. “And how do you plan on granting me ownership of the Shipwreck, Mr. Young?”
The Mr. Young character replied simply, “When we take over the Ateez territory.”
“A turf war? Are you crazy? The one there only just ended, and how do you plan on throwing out the current leadership?”
“We have our ways, Ms. Iwazaki.” Another moment passed, and you wondered if now would be a good time to finally knock on the door and get the Hell out of here, but Mr. Young continued onward. “Even if you do not wish to pledge loyalty—that is perfectly fine—my superior asks for one, small favor.”
Another laugh, this time drier. “A favor, hm?”
“I'm certain you will be able to complete it. You simply need to summon Kim Hongjoong to this location, and I will take care of the rest.”
Tension filled your shoulders. Hongjoong? Again? Was this guy always going to be in some kind of trouble?
“And why would I do you this favor?” your boss asked, her voice having dropped to something like a deadpan.
You leaned closer to the door.
“Because if you don't, my men and I will burn this building to the ground with you and everyone else in it.”
You barely caught your serving tray before it clattered to the ground, but the sound of your palm hitting the flat side created an unmistakable thump sound that fucking echoed. You swore, practically feeling the silence fill the hallway. Panic flooded your chest—
The office door was ripped open, light spilling into the darkness. The man who stood there glared out into the empty hallway, eyes narrowed on the door that led back into the main barroom that only just banged shut.
Meanwhile, you barrelled through the barroom toward the kitchen, weaving your way through coworkers and bar patrons alike. The receipt slip was the last thing on your mind—oh god, you had to get everyone out of here.
But… that was only if your boss didn't agree to do Mr. Young's favor.
What did they plan to do to Hongjoong? No doubt nothing good. You had to warn him somehow.
As you shoved yourself out into the cold evening, the temperature nipping at your skin and your breath manifesting into a physical form, you began to pace the alleyway proper.
“The card!” you gasped aloud, hands slapping against your pockets, only to realize that you weren't going to find the business card on your person. You groaned, hitting your palm against your forehead. “Idiot,” you swore.
You pulled your phone out from your back pocket and searched up the Shipwreck. There had to be some kind of phone number or contact information online.
You dialed the number listed there and chewed on your lip as it rang.
When someone picked up, you didn't recognize their voice. “This is the Shipwreck—San speaking. How may I help you?”
Anxiety bubbled in your chest. What if you just sounded stupid? What if this situation was handled? What if you were sticking your nose into business you weren't supposed to? Wasn't this how people got killed—
“Uh hello?”
San's voice snapped you out. “Shit,” you stammered. “Uhm, is Kim Hongjoong there?”
You could hear chatter and glass clatter in the background, all sounds normal to a bar. “Kim Hongjoong? And who may I say is calling?”
“Uh—a concerned, uhm, friend.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you screwed your eyes shut and repeatedly air-smacked your forehead.
A pause, then a chuckle. “A concerned friend,” he parroted. “Alright, what would his concerned friend like to say to him? I can pass along a message.”
Could you trust this guy? It didn't sound like he was going to take you seriously.
You had no other choice. Hongjoong had no other choice. “I just—if he gets a call from Iwazaki Rina, don't come to the bar on Fifth. It's a trap.”
It hit you then that you just endangered the entire building by making this call.
You leaned against the brick alley wall, guilt pouring through you. Why were you putting lives on the line for this man? You barely knew him, but your gut was urging you to save his goddamn life for the third time. Not that you were counting.
On the other side, San had gone quiet. Then he said, “Yn. This is Ln Yn, is it not?”
You straightened, your pulse lurching against your throat. “How do you know my name?”
“You said Hongjoong's in danger?” There was more shuffling, accompanied by muffled voices. You couldn't hear what he was saying or the voice he was speaking with. He returned to the phone a moment later, uncovering the speaker. “We're letting him know now. Thanks, Yn.”
“Wait!” you sputtered. “Wait, I—” Would they even care? “They're going to burn this building down with everyone in it if he doesn't show up. I—I don't know what to do—”
“Hey, it's okay, Yn,” San said softly, reassuringly. “You did the right thing. We'll take care of it.”
Panic was rising up in your throat again, rancid and bitter like bile. “What does that even mean—”
Genre/warning: toxic relationship, both are in the wrong, a curse word, angst, kissing, slight fluff at the end, pov changed from second to first in the middle. None aside from that.
Sana: my first entry for my 500+ followers event! Thank you @eclipsaria yu baby for requesting this hehe. Thank you to @mars101 for beta reading!
Giving a ride to a stranger wouldn’t hurt, right? That’s what you thought when you gave a ride to Sunwoo but what you did not expect was your relationship to go from a stranger to maybe something as time went by.
It all felt so innocent at first. Late night calls, texting each other good morning as the first thing in the morning to the two of you making out in the backseat of your car.
But it was as if something snapped between the two of you. The relationship which you had developed with each other felt more like a burden than anything else.
From late night calls to late night arguments. It was always something petty, something which other people wouldn’t mind in their relationships but you both did.
You both knew it was wrong, that there was miscommunication but you just didn’t want to admit it.
That’s what you were doing right now in Sunwoo’s apartment. What started out as an apology from Sunwoo’s end for being a jealous boyfriend went to you, confronting him about the texts he received from the same girl.
“I told you that it’s nothing, didn’t I?” Sunwoo snapped back at you once he had enough of your yelling and accusations, “She’s just a friend, Y/N. Nothing more, nothing less.” He replied more calmly.
You scoffed quietly while rolling your eyes, “Friends don’t text and call each other late at night nor do they send I love you texts to each other on a daily basis!” Sunwoo stared at you for a moment, his gaze calculating.
“Did you go through my phone? Without my permission?” He asked, his voice eerily soft. Getting no reply from you, he chuckled almost as if he was impressed, “Gosh you’re so insecure about our relationship.” Sunwoo said as he moved his hands through his hair.
“I am insecure? Says the one who’s always jealous and possessive!” Sunwoo glared at you menacingly when you said that.
“I wouldn’t have been so possessive if you knew how to behave when in a relationship!”
“I never want to see your face again, jerk.” I mumbled as I stormed out of the apartment angrily.
“Yeah sure! We’re over for all I care!” Sunwoo yelled back and slammed the door shut.
🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾
I looked down at my phone when I heard it vibrating. I sighed when I saw Sunwoo’s name flashing on the screen.
Sunwoo???: let’s work it out, okay? Don’t just leave me like this. Received 1:43 AM
Sunwoo???: Could you please answer? Received 1:43 AM
Sunwoo???: look I know I behave like a jerk sometimes but just hear me out? Please? Received 1:44 AM
Sunwoo???: I know you’re reading the texts Y/N…Received 1:44 AM
Sighing in annoyance, I grabbed my phone and switched it off. Not wanting to look at the texts he was sending.
Standing up from my desk, I went into the kitchen to make myself some coffee to stay awake.
“Y/N open the door!” I flinched when I heard Sunwoo’s voice right outside my apartment door as he continually rang the doorbell.
Turning off the stove, I marched towards the door to open it, “Do you not know—” I stopped talking when Sunwoo immediately kissed me the moment I opened the door.
Stepping back in the middle of the kiss, I let Sunwoo enter my apartment as he closed the door with his foot.
Looking down at me, Sunwoo placed his fingers under my chin as he let out a sigh, “I am sorry for the way I behaved.” He mumbled under his breath before kissing me again.
Our lips moved in sync as I entangled my fingers in his hair, his hands cradling my face as he pulled me closer towards him by my waist.
Pulling away, I placed my forehead on his, “You cannot just kiss me after every argument we have.” I said with my eyes closed.
“You still liked it.” He said with a smirk.
I rolled my eyes and started walking towards the kitchen. “So what? You still need to make up for it.” I replied, my attention on the stove as I started preparing coffee for the both of us.
“I can do that.” He whispered in my ear as he hugged me from the back. “You know I love you, right?” Sunwoo mumbled while placing a kiss on my forehead.
I looked up at him and nodded slightly because no matter how toxic we were together, there was no one who would be a better match for us than the two of us.
I would always find myself in his arms by the end of the day, him apologising for things he didn’t do or something he messed up in with me nodding along to his sweet nothings knowing we’d fuck up again. Sooner or later.
Note: Hi guys I'm still alive <333 I finally finished this fic based on a dream I had but not completely! I hope you guys enjoy <333
The heat got worse as the day progressed to noon. The air was still, the sky soundless, as even the birds, who usually chirped merrily around this hour, had given in to the heat. Not a single ant was sighted on the ground and those creatures are known for their hard work during the season.
Mother Nature had issued desperate warnings about the extreme weather all week. Despite this, the school faculty kindly decided to arrange their annual sports festival for that exact week.
Crowds of students in a mix of white and navy blue uniforms were seen scattered around in different parts of the school grounds. Some were stretching and warming up, preparing themselves for whatever sport they had signed up for, and others in groups sat on the burning grass complaining about the scorching heat and gossiping to kill time.
You stood with your opponents on the track field. The white paint on the ground glistened underneath the sunlight, but not in an appealing way. You could see the surroundings crowd up with more and more students by the minute as they hurried to get the best spot before anyone else. The coach was heard screaming at a boy who was probably late for the last sports match, while the other teachers were rounding up the remaining few rebellious students. Everything was nauseating.
You just wanted to go home and lie in bed with the air conditioning on and possibly a popsicle. Yeah, that sounded nice.
A tap on your shoulder made you return from your heavenly daydream.
“Everything alright Y/n? You seem out of it.” A quiet yet kind voice.
It was Han Taesan, a friend you made in the first year of high school just because your seat had been right next to his. At first, he seemed very intimidating. Not much of a talker, Taesan was always quiet usually seen with his headphones on every chance he could get. You had not ever seen him with people other than a boy called Kim Donghyun, who you later found out had been with him since elementary. He was seemingly a reserved person, keeping himself detached from his surroundings, or so you had thought.
Right before spring break, you got sick and missed an entire week of school. You were greatly worried about the mountain of work you'd have to catch up on and the exams you needed to prepare for. However when you came back to school, you were speechless to find Taesan approaching you first thing in the morning, handing out to you a handwritten copy of his notes from when you were absent.
You couldn’t thank him enough but he just smiled shyly telling you it wouldn’t have been nice if he didn’t. From that day onwards, Taesan gained a new friend.
"Oh no, I'm fine" you waved your hand, shaking away the daze "You know how I am with the heat."
"Ah, right. Want me to get you a water bottle?" His tone showed concern greater than the matter.
"No thank you," you smiled at his offer, "Don't you have your baseball match to warm up for?"
He shook his head, "That isn't till an hour I think. We have girls' volleyball first."
Your conversation was interrupted by a high-pitched whistle coming from the coach's direction, signalling everyone to get into position.
Taesan let out what seemed like a sigh, and patted your shoulder.
"Good luck then, I'll be cheering for you!" He smiled encouragingly, making his way to where your other friends had been sitting and cheering.
Let's get this over with, you thought to yourself setting yourself into position.
"Students, on your mark..."
You took a look at the other girls around you.
"Get set..."
This should be easy.
"...GO!"
A loud bang was heard followed by deafening screams filling the air from the other students supporting their classmates and friends.
Like always, you took the lead. It wasn't that you had trained extensively, or anything. Running was the only sport you excelled at and years of participation in the same field had polished your skills, having achieved the gold medal every year. You wouldn't call it your arrogance, it was more or less the confidence you had in yourself. So, this year couldn't be any different.
Within moments, the finish line was in your sight. Giving yourself a last boost, you ran with the maximum of your limit. However, little did you know that right there on the track stood a small evil pebble meddling with your victory. Unknowingly, you stepped on the pebble during your sprint, causing your ankle to twist painfully.
You winced at the sudden, sharp pain but you couldn’t risk stopping, not when the red ribbon was almost there. With a slight limp, you pushed yourself just enough to make it to the end.
Another loud bang was heard, this time signalling the end of the race. Girls from the stands ran hurriedly with water bottles and other supplies for their teammates, giving group hugs to congratulate while a few consoled their disheartened companions.
You had finished in second place, but you didn't mind at all. Relief washed over you as your part concluded, but as you stood on the silver podium, the throbbing in your joint went unnoticed by everyone.
After the ceremony concluded, your friends invited you to watch the upcoming volleyball game
"I'll be there in a while," you confirmed and they nodded, asking you to make it on time.
You located a quiet space behind the building, away from the bustle. Exhaling heavily, you leaned back into the bench to take a deep breath. With a towel around your neck, you wiped off what remained of the sweat. Now that you were alone, you could take a better look at your injured ankle.
Lost while studying your sore foot, you didn’t notice someone approach.
“That doesn’t look too good.” It was Taesan again.
“Taesan! You scared me.” You whipped your head up to look at him, dramatically clutching your chest.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to,” he said with a tone of slight embarrassment, “I saw you step on that pebble, are you hurt badly?”
He saw?
“Oh, uh… no, it’s not that bad” You bit your lip hoping he wouldn’t be able to see through your lie.
“Let me have a look,” he said and before you could stop him, he was on the ground inspecting your ankle, pressing his fingers against the purplish skin.
As he did, the sudden pain caused an involuntary whine to escape your lips.
“Sorry…” He mumbled softly getting back to your injury, “I knew you got hurt so I brought first aid just in case.”
You had not noticed the small white box sitting next to him until he had mentioned it.
Your heart skipped a beat.
Something felt different about him today. Maybe it was the strands of sweaty hair sticking messily to his forehead, maybe it was the way his pale skin gleamed beautifully underneath the noon sun, or maybe it was just his navy blue uniform that suddenly made you aware of how attractive he had always been.
He carefully dressed your sprained ankle, making sure he was as gentle as he could be not wanting to cause you any discomfort. Unbeknownst to him, you were watching him with an unfamiliar feeling, a newfound emotion or was it only just realised?
“There, all done.” He finished bandaging, “Do you think you can walk alright?”
“Y-yeah…” A blush crept into your cheeks when you realised you had been staring at him for way too long, “thank you, Taesan.”
“Not at all. I’m just glad you’re okay. You had me worried there.” He admitted sheepishly. It was his turn to shy away as his ears tinted a shade of red, but you wouldn’t notice.
“Y/n, do you want to go out for ice cream after school?" Taesan proposed out of the blue and you swore you choked on the air for a split second.
Seeing your confused look, he realized his question had surprised you and quickly continued
“Since you won second place, and you know…” he pointed at your ankle.
You looked down at your bandaged foot. How did he make you forget the pain you were in?
Oh right…
“Of course, I don’t mind yeah.” You stutter as you answer, a feeling of embarrassment taking over you because why were you acting like this? It was just Taesan.
“I think we should get going, the volleyball match probably started,” He looked at the direction of the court then back at you again, “Let me help you.”
He extended his hand and you took it for support. It wasn’t the first time he had held your hand, but the contact sent a swarm of butterflies fluttering like crazy in your stomach. You felt light-headed as he led to to where you were headed.
For some reason, the heat wasn’t bothersome anymore. Of course, now you had a bigger problem to deal with.
Title : Evil pebble || Word count: 1.509k || Genre: fluff, mutual pinning || Pairing: Classmate/friend Taesan x fem!Reader
Pairing: seventeen 14th member!fem!reader! X Joshua hong
Warnings: since this is a 14th member fic there would be some or other kind of change in the GoSe episode. Humorous, crack, cursing, Joshua is a menace in the first part, fluff, cursing, teeny tiny angst, Joshua can be a bit flirty if you squint.
WC: 6,616
Sana: I had this idea for over a month and took me so long to execute it 😭. A huge thanks to @bella-feed for helping me with most of the fic and listening to me go on and on about it LMAO. Thank you to @mylovesstuffs for beta reading the whole thing and helping me with the grammar <33 @yudaies thank you ves for beta reading ig as well (I love you 😘)
Tagging: @kflixnet @kstrucknet
Sentences written in [ ] are subtitles!
Times when joshua made fans believe woozi’s anti-gentleman Joshua agenda:
Sitting beside Joshua, I observed Hoshi closely as I had a hunch that he was the mafia. “It’s Hoshi.” I said aloud which made everyone look at me.
“What?” Hoshi said in shock as he sat up straight.
I chuckled and placed my hands on my knees. “I saw the way you reacted when others diverted their attention away from you. You’re the mafia, right?” I said. Upon hearing my explanation everyone started exclaiming in angreement saying that it makes sense.
“Okay, we will kill off Hoshi in the next round!” Seungcheol exclaimed before it was said that the night had fallen.
“Make sure that you save me.” I whispered to Joshua since I knew he was the doctor. He simply nodded at my words and placed his head down.
“The morning has come.” I slowly raised my head up, “Innocent citizen…” I anxiously looked at them as they took a dramatic pause.
My gaze shifted up when Jun approached me and gently grabbed my hand before pulling me away, “What? What? Wait…what?” I exclaimed in surprise.
“Innocent citizen, Y/N was killed. The doctor saved the wrong person.” I stared at Joshua, feeling betrayed, as he just smiled sheepishly.
“Joshua, who did you save then?” I immediately sat up when Hoshi asked, staring at Joshua intensely.
“Ah…Seungkwan.” I stood up from my seat when he said that.
“But I told you to save me!” I yelled at him at which he just laughed while waving his hands.
“I just didn’t feel like saving you.” I scoffed at his response which made everyone laugh.
As soon as I started approaching Joshua, Jeonghan pulled me back, patting my head as he chuckled at how Joshua and I were behaving.
Standing behind Wonwoo, I looked at Jeonghan and Joshua in shock as the two of them started washing their hair.
“Was this in the script?” I whispered to Wonwoo, to which he just shrugged and continued filming them.
This small interaction seemed to catch Joshua’s attention as he stood up straight and stared at me for a moment.
“Hey, you,” he said with a small smirk. I pointed my finger at myself in confusion, “Me?”
Joshua simply nodded as he grabbed another bottle of water. “You, wash.” I snorted at that answer in bewilderment.
I took a cautious step back when Joshua took another step closer towards me. “Joshua Hong, step back! I seriously got my hair done just a while ago!” I yelled as he started pulling me towards the red tub.
Jeonghan watched Joshua pull me towards the tub before sitting down again.
“Wonwoo, help me!” I whined and tried to break away from Joshua. Grabbing the bottle from Jeonghan, Joshua wasted no time pouring it over my head while laughing. “Why is it so fucking cold?” I yelled as a curse word slipped out of my mouth.
Joshua simply ignored my protest as he rubbed some shampoo on his hands and applied it to my hair messily. “You lazy?” He asked once he was done applying the shampoo.
Taking a deep breath in, I nodded and stood up straight again as some water dripped down my hair and forehead. “I, lazy.” I mumbled before walking back to my place.
Soon, I heard the voices of Seungkwan and Dino approaching us. I moved my hand through my hair, grimacing at the feeling.
Joshua caught my expression and gave a smirk in my direction before he moved his attention back towards Seungkwan, who was talking.
“We will use our special skill!” Jeonghan called out in the middle of the game as we all stopped to listen to him. “Big ball,” he declared.
I immediately looked at Hoshi as he told me to be careful when making the run to the base. Giving him an okay sign, I stood in front of Seungcheol as he got ready to serve with the big ball.
“Can I even kick this?” I asked once I saw the ball.
“Y/N-ah! You can do it!” Jun cheered me on while clapping his hands. I smiled at his antics and paid attention to Seungcheol when he said that he was going to serve.
Once seungcheol served the ball, I kicked it and made a run for it, drowning out all the noise of them yelling as I focused on my task.
“Shua! Hit her!” I barely processed the words leaving Seungkwan’s mouth before the big ball hit my face, causing me to fall down.
“What the hell!” I shrieked while falling down.
“Am sorry.” I heard Joshua apologise as he approached me and helped me stand up while laughing.
“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” I asked while dusting off my clothes.
“No no, of course not.” I glared at Joshua when he said that. He continued giggling as he spoke up again, “I meant to hit your leg but then, since your face is too big—”
Before he could finish his sentence, I punched his arm while walking away to go and sit beside Dino.
I stared at Joshua and Seungkwan as they played volleyball.
Heaving out a satisfied sigh, I continued relaxing in the swimming pool while lying on one of the inflatable floats.
“Ah! I am sorry!” I heard Seungkwan yell as I just drowned it out. I grabbed my sunglasses, which were on my chest, put them on, and hummed to the sound of nature (and the occasional yelling).
“Y/N-ah! Are you not going to eat?” I propped myself up on my elbow and peeked at Seungcheol through my lashes.
“I will come in a few minutes,” I replied and laid down again as Seungcheol gave me an okay sign.
“Y/N-ah, is it peaceful?” Jeonghan asked softly as he placed his leg in the pool. I simply nodded at him and didn’t care enough to open my eyes.
“Isn’t it too peaceful though?” I suddenly heard Joshua say, his voice feeling too close to me.
I removed my sunglasses and yelped when the float was turned upside down as I fell inside the swimming pool with Joshua and Jeonghan laughing.
“What the—” I tried to speak when I came up again, but Joshua cut me off as he pushed me back inside.
Jeonghan took this as a chance and entered the pool as he started splashing me with water, not letting me speak.
“Stop sto-” without letting me finish, Joshua held my waist and pulled me down into the pool with him as I tried to catch my breath.
Slowly I pushed Joshua away as Seungkwan threw a towel at me to help me dry my hair.
I stared at Joshua as he got out of the pool, “Watch your back hong.” I said in a threatening tone as I sat down beside Mingyu.
“You look like a…like a penguin.” He said while laughing. I just rolled my eyes and grabbed the plate of food which Wonwoo passed to me.
“I really would have cursed if the cameras were not there.” I said with a sigh before stuffing my face with some food.
“But it was fun.” Joshua said as he ruffled my hair and placed some more noodles on my plate.
“Fun for you.” I replied with a sarcastic laugh; “It was fun he says.” I said to Mingyu as I imitated Joshua while making a face, “Yeah yeah. Sure.” I said with an eye roll as Joshua just laughed at me.
—x—
Sitting on the deck beside Minghao, I observed the others enjoying the water rides.
Normally, I would have joined them, but I suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion hit me so I decided to sit this one out.
“Did you try out the banana ride already?” Joshua asked as he approached us.
I shook my head while playing with Minghao’s fingers. “Did you want to try it out?” I asked him before looking up at his face.
“I wanted to try it out, but I didn’t want to do it alone. It’s fine, I guess… I will try it later.” Joshua said as he turned around to look for something else to try.
“We can do it together once they come back,” I offered while standing up to stretch my body.
“Really?” I nodded in response to Joshua’s question, a chuckle leaving my lips when I saw his shocked face.
“Why are you so shocked?” I asked while putting on the helmet.
“Just didn’t expect you to offer to ride it with me,” I rolled my eyes when Joshua said that.
“Don’t sweat it. Just be happy that I agreed to this,” I mumbled.
“Do you want to sit in the front or the back?”
Looking at the ride, I pointed at the front seat as I took my spot with a camera in my hand, ready to record the two of us.
“This is happiness! This vibe… it’s really… really happy!” Joshua said once the ride took off.
I simply nodded at his words as I screamed from the fast speed, a mix of fear and excitement.
“Y/N, look! The drone is there.” I looked in the direction he pointed and waved at the drone camera. “Do you want me to hold the camera for you?” I turned my head slightly to look at Joshua when he asked that.
Not thinking much of it, I handed the camera to him and looked ahead again.
[Look of pure regret coming in 3, 2, 1…]
“WHAT THE—” My voice was drowned out as I was suddenly pushed into the water by Joshua from the moving ride.
“It didn’t happen because of me!” Joshua tried to defend himself as I emerged from the water again.
I glared at him as the ride suddenly took off again which made him lose his balance resulting in him falling in the water.
“Why is it crunchy?” I heard Dino’s voice as I stepped out of my room. Rubbing my eyes, I walked past the guys and out of the camera frame.
“Y/N! Could you come here for a bit?” I heard Soonyoung yell from behind while I was busy talking with one of the staff members.
Sighing, I turned around and approached them as I noticed Joshua holding out a spoon of rice.
“What did you guys make?” I asked softly, my voice still a bit hoarse as I had just woken up.
“Could you taste the rice for us? Dino was not able to tell if we needed more seasoning…” Soonyoung replied while stirring the rice in the pan.
I shrugged and ate the rice from the spoon Joshua was holding out.
Chewing on it, I suddenly felt the saltiness, which made me cough. “Why is it so salty?” I asked after spitting out the rice.
“What are you talking about? We didn’t add any salt!” Soonyoung yelled as he defended himself.
I opened my mouth to yell back when I noticed a pack of salt beside Joshua. “Did you…?” I questioned with my eyebrows raised.
“Isn’t it a bit crunchy?” Dino asked while laughing.
I shook my head and walked towards Dino to go back inside.
“Really crunchy, you jerk,” I said to Joshua with annoyance, though a small smile was on my lips.
“Gentle, yeah right,” Dino said after me as he pushed me inside, laughing.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ [GOING SEVENTEEN 2020] EP.25 디에잇과 12 인의 그림자 #1 (THE 8 and the 12 Shadows
#1)
I stared at Joshua anxiously when I noticed his annoyed expression because of Jeonghan.
Not wanting to meet the same fate as him, I grabbed a tissue from the table and handed it to Joshua so that he could wipe his now wet face.
“I think it’s still dry…” Jeonghan said while getting up. I looked at Joshua as he nervously laughed before following Jeonghan.
“I should spray some more water,” Joshua grabbed Jeonghan by the neck before he could finish his sentence.
In no time, Jeonghan’s turn was over and now Joshua was the one leading us all.
“We have to copy whatever face he makes,” one of them said when Joshua was drinking some water.
I nodded along while biting my lower lip anxiously, “Look at Y/N. She looks so scared,” I heard Seokmin say while laughing.
I turned around and shot him a glare before looking ahead at Joshua again. I flinched when I saw Joshua staring at me with an angry expression.
[Horror Movie Face]
“Why does he look so angry?” I whispered to Jun and shifted closer to him. “You won’t splash me with water, would you?” I asked Joshua nervously, to which he just shook his head.
I heaved out a sigh of relief when my face turned cold as I saw Joshua grabbing a bucket and filling it with water.
“What is he doing?” Seungkwan asked from behind. I just stared at Joshua anxiously, hoping he wouldn’t do something crazy.
Once his bucket was full, he grabbed another one and placed it under the tap. While the second bucket was filling, he walked towards the fridge and took out a tray of ice cubes.
“I think… Shua hyung is a bit… crazy sometimes,” Dino said with concern.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to…” I stared at Joshua in pure shock when he poured the ice water over his head. “I’m not doing that!” I said to everyone.
“Yah, you can’t just back out. We all did everything when we had to do!” Jeonghan complained as he told me to pour water on myself.
“I am suddenly getting a bit annoyed… I can sense someone not listening to me,” Joshua said, glaring at me.
[Eyes of a totally insane person]
I sighed and picked up the bucket full of water before pouring it on myself.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ [GOING SEVENTEEN] EP.70 E't Lie: The CHASER #1 (Don't Lie : The CHASER #1)
“It feels a bit scary today,” I said to Seokmin who was walking beside me.
“Right? It feels like an escape room,” he said. I nodded to his words while cautiously looking around the place.
“BHOO!” I flinched and screamed loudly when Joshua suddenly yelled at Seokmin and me.
[One shot, five kills]
“WHAT THE HELL!”
“HEY!” Seokmin and I yelled together at Joshua at which he just smiled and patted our backs.
“What is wrong with you?” I said in frustration and hit the back of Joshua’s head in annoyance.
“Don’t do it again. I am serious.” Seokmin said to Joshua before walking away.
“WhAt tHe hELl.” Joshua mumbled, as if mimicking me.
“Are you seriously making fun of me?” I said while throwing a glare at him.
“No… you just looked so cute when you got scared.” He said with a smile as he patted my head.
“Is there any kimchi?” My ears perked up when I heard Dino ask Joshua. I immediately got up from my seat and approached the two of them.
“Are you eating ramen?” I asked Dino softly, not sparing a glance at Joshua. Dino nodded, offering some to me.
I opened my mouth as he fed some to me and furrowed my eyebrows when I realised they were not fully cooked. “They’re not fully cooked...” I said once I finished chewing.
“I cooked it a little less than usual so that you could enjoy it with the chicken breast...”
“What if he doesn’t want the chicken breast?” I questioned him with my eyebrows raised.
“Well he can decide that. You’re not supposed to eat the noodles anyways.” Joshua said, his eyes getting a bit bigger while defending himself.
“And why’s that? I could give you stickers in return.” When I said that, it was as if there was a switch in Joshua.
“You can eat it however you want! I can cook something else for you as well.” He said with a sickeningly sweet smile.
“Never mind. It looks like you don’t deserve it.” I said dramatically before going back to my seat.
“What does my Y/N want? Do you want some chips? Cola? Or maybe some pasta?” He said while following behind me.
I shook my head at him. “I will give you anything you want, hmm Y/N-ahh?” I opened my mouth to say something but closed it again.
[Look of a person who is desperate for grape stickers]
“I suddenly don’t want to give you any stickers though.” I let out a small ‘wah’ when Joshua immediately turned around and walked away after I said I didn’t want to give him any stickers.
Times when Joshua stayed true to his gentleman agenda:
“We will use the special items!” Seungcheol called out in the middle of the game, which made me sigh.
“Not again!” I whined before slumping down next to Dino on the chair.
“Y/N will wear flippers.” Jeonghan called out, which made me sigh again.
“But I am supposed to serve right now!” I said while walking towards the staff to get the flippers.
“We gave it to you on purpose.” I rolled my eyes at Jeonghan when he said that.
Standing in front of seungcheol I got ready to hit the ball, “Wah it’s really hard to walk in this!”
“Okay, ready?” I gave a small nod to Seungcheol when he asked. “One, two, three!” I successfully kicked the ball when it reached me and immediately took off to reach the first base.
Due to not being able to run properly in it, I stumbled over my feet and hit the ground while twisting my ankle.
“Are you okay?” I closed my eyes in pain and held my ankle in my hand. I didn’t even notice that all the members had gathered around me.
“Mingyu, remove that flipper from her.” I heard seungcheol say at which Mingyu immediately helped me remove it from my feet.
“It looks like it’s starting to swell.” Joshua said from beside me as he traced his fingers over my now hurt ankle.
“I can still play.” I said softly as I looked up at seungcheol for his approval.
Before he could even say anything, Joshua cut him off, “I think you should take some rest and sit beside Minghao. You can’t run with a sprained ankle, you idiot.” He said while hitting the back of my head gently.
“You should take a break.” I sighed softly when seungcheol agreed to Joshua.
“Get on my back. I will carry you towards Minghao.” Joshua said to me at which I let out a small laugh.
“I just twisted my ankle a bit. Not a big deal.”
“Do you want to get on my back or not?” I silently got on his back without answering him. “That’s what I thought.” He said smugly.
“Oh shut it.” I said grumpily as he gave me a piggyback ride to where Minghao was sitting.
After settling me down on the ground, Joshua walked away.
“Does it hurt?” Minghao asked softly at which I shook my head.
“It doesn’t hurt much, just when I put pressure on it.” I answered while showing him my now swollen ankle.
“Y/N-ah, here take this. Apply this on your sprained ankle from time to time.” I looked up and saw Joshua handing me an ice pack.
I took it and started applying it on my ankle, “Where did you get this from?” I questioned since we were outdoors.
“The staff had some ice packs in case we needed it.” I nodded my head at that, “Now don’t move from here. I will come back to check on you once I am done with my turn.” I nodded at Joshua and gave him an okay sign.
Throughout the whole game, Joshua checked up on me from time to time and even handed me some cold drinks to keep me hydrated.
—x—
“Today’s MVP is Dino!” The members cheered, while Dino danced to Left And Right.
In the background Joshua could be seen giving Y/N a piggyback ride and running around the field.
“The losing team doesn’t have an MVP.” I heard Seungcheol, at which I chuckled. “And Shua, Y/N, could you stop loitering around and come here to give your ending ment?” Seungcheol yelled at us.
“Oh sorry. What do you want us to say?” Joshua asked once we reached where all of the others were.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Nana Tour Episode One
“We’re really going to Italy?” Mingyu questioned in shock, still trying to process everything.
“We’re in a time crunch right now so whose room is the closest from here?” Na PD asked once he reassured Mingyu that they were in fact going to Italy instead of heading back to Korea.
“Y/N’s room would be the closest.” Seungcheol replied from his seat, already reaching out for his crutches.
“I checked on her not too long ago. She’s already asleep.” Joshua answered, not too keen on waking you up.
“We should probably head to her room then right?” Everyone immediately started disagreeing with the idea, not wanting to wake you up. “Why? Is something wrong?” Na PD questioned in confusion.
“Y/N gets really grumpy when you wake her up…” Dino said softly, as if he had already experienced it.
“Let’s just go to her room and one of you can wake her up. Once she’s awake, all of us will come in with the camera. How does that sound?” Na PD asked, hoping they’d agree to it.
He smiled triumphantly when the members agreed.
“I will first go and wake her up.” Joshua said to Na PD when they were walking towards your room.
Upon reaching, he told the members to lower their voices as he grabbed a camera and entered your room cautiously.
Closing the door, he made sure to not make any noise and walked towards your bed with the lights still off.
“Y/N-ah, wake up. We have to go to Italy.” He whispered softly, sitting on the edge of your bed to gently wake you up.
“Hmm?” He chuckled softly when you mumbled in your sleep and cuddled closer towards him, seeking some warmth.
“We have to go to Italy.” He whispered in your ear while tucking your hair behind your ear when he noticed it was covering your face.
“Italy? What are you talking about?” You mumbled, your voice a bit hoarse since you just woke up from your sleep.
“I meant that we cannot go to Korea. We’re going to Italy for seven days. Na PD and the members are waiting for you outside.” He said while helping you sit up straight. “Do you want some jacket or something to cover yourself?” He asked when he noticed you were wearing a simple tank top and some shorts.
When you gave him a small nod, he simply stood up from your bed and took a sweatshirt out of your suitcase and helped you wear it.
“You guys can come in!” Joshua shouted out once you were comfortable enough.
“Y/N-ah are you ready to go to Italy?” Na PD asked once he entered your room.
You waved to the camera, and rubbed your eyes as the members turned on the lights, “Why do you have a magazine on your table? That too your own magazine?” Seungcheol questioned when he saw your vogue cover magazine on the coffee table.
“Let her be, she just wanted to admire the way she looked in that photoshoot.” Joshua defended you while he was busy fixing your hair with his fingers, noticing how sleepy you still looked.
“Y/N looks so out of it.” Mingyu commented while laughing.
“Do you want some water?” Joshua asked although he was already reaching for the water bottle.
I sat on the floor of the dance practice room with a small sigh escaping my lips.
“Drink some water.” I looked up and saw Joshua handing me a bottle of water.
I grabbed it without saying anything and just looked down, “Hey, what’s wrong?” He questioned softly as he held my face in his hands and made me look at him.
“I cannot get the house steps right…” I mumbled under my breath, almost too embarrassed to admit it.
“You still have time to perfect it. Don’t stress yourself out.” I shook my head at his words.
“We have our music video shoot starting from tomorrow. What if I mess up during that time?” I shared my thoughts, too worried to ignore it.
“We don’t have to shoot the house steps tomorrow, dummy. We still have a few days left and you can always ask Hoshi to help you out.” He reassured me.
“He’s already stressed out enough. I don’t want him to worry about my problems just because just because I’m struggling with a few simple steps.”.” Joshua scoffed at my words as he simply snatched the water bottle from my hand and opened it before handing it back to me without saying anything.
“Don’t you dare say things like that again. Everyone is different, some take more time than others to get some steps done. You’re more than capable of doing it. Cut yourself some slack. You have been working on your solo debut as well.” He said while urging me to drink some water.
I listened to him as he started massaging my legs gently, his eyes still on me, “Don’t doubt yourself like that. Hoshi would be more than happy to help you out.” He said softly as he ruffled my hair making me chuckle.
“I can do it, right?” I questioned, uncertainty still evident in my voice.
“You’re going to do great! Come on, cheer up!” I giggled at him while nodding.
“Guys gather up!” Our dance instructor called out as Joshua stood up and held out his hand to me.
“You will do great.” He whispered in my ear while patting my back.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Live: 230516
Sitting in front of the camera, you stared at the comments and occasionally replied to some as you waited for your food delivery to arrive.
Hearing the bell ring, you got up from your chair and went towards the door to open it. “Oh?” fans could hear you exclaim in surprise. “What are you doing here?” You could be heard asking the mysterious person.
“I saw that you were live on weverse and decided to stop by and here’s your food.” People watching the live immediately understood that it was Joshua and immediately started typing in comments about how you two are always together.
“Guys, we have a special guest.” You announced while settling the food down on the table. Pulling out another chair, you placed it beside yours as you patted on it.
“Carats, hi.” Joshua greeted once he was settled in the chair beside you. “I decided to accompany Y/N since she is very boring when alone.” He said teasingly at which you glared at him in annoyance.
“I am a very funny person, Hong.” You mumbled while opening the box which was filled with fried chicken.
“Sure you are,” he said softly while his eyes were still on the phone screen.
—x—
“No, my throat has been in a bad condition.” It had been quite a while since Joshua and you were live. Your conversation flowed smoothly with some music playing in the background from Joshua’s phone.
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Joshua questioned as he stopped eating and stared at you.
You just shrugged in response and continued talking with the fans.
—x—
Weverse post: 230517
Bro bought me some medicine 💊
Comments:
Gyugyu: help why are they so cute 😭
Shuji: not Joshua buying Y/N medicines immediately after he got to know bout her throat. Simp 😭 (same bro)
Vernonnotbonon: why does he act so nonchalant around her when he’s so chalant 😭🤚
Scoupsass: I would not blame Joshua for simping on Y/N at this point cause same 😐
Kwanboooo: bros a total simp for her
Hoshisnotahamster: SHSJSJSISJXJJXXJDJ NEED SOMETHING LIKE THIS 😭
Wonwooseyesight: this is so domestic of them 👹
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ [INSIDE SEVENTEEN] 2024 SVT 8th FANMEETING < SEVENTEEN in CARAT LAND > UNIT REVERSE RECORDING BEHIND
I sighed in annoyance when I wasn’t able to get my parts in the right range for the unit switch part.
“Why is this part so hard?” I mumbled under my breath while going over the lyrics again. “Gives me hope before…” I trailed off as I hummed along to the music again. “Should this part be in a higher range as I move forward?” I asked our producer to which he nodded and explained how I should sing it.
I took in a deep breath and gave it another try only for my voice to crack at the end. “Why am I not able to get it right?” I hissed under my breath in anger as I started picking at my skin out of anxiousness.
“Hello…” I looked up and saw Joshua entering the studio with some coffee in his hands.
Without any second thought, he made a beeline for the recording booth with the coffee in hand, “Joshi…” I mumbled his name tiredly.
“How’s the recording coming along?” He asked while handing me the coffee. I shook my head while taking a small sip.
“I am not able to get it right…my voice keeps on cracking.” I said softly, my shoulders slumped.
“Let me see.” He said and held out his hand to take a look at the lyrics. “You’re doing this part together with Hoshi right?” I nodded. “Should we listen to his recording so that you get a hint on how to do it?” I nodded at him again.
After listening to Hoshi’s recording I got a hint of what I should do for the high note. “Should we go over that part before you record?” he asked.
“Yes please. Just sing with me for now.” Joshua nodded as we both sang along to the lyrics quietly. I was starting to feel confident again.
“Do you have more parts?” I nodded and showed him my next part, “This one? Okay.”
I sang my lines a few times with Joshua as he guided me on how to sing the ad-libs and the high notes.
After a while, I started getting the hang of it as I got better at singing my parts. “Okay!” I said while clapping my hands once I was satisfied with the recording.
“You did so great, Y/N-ah.” Joshua said with a smile as he massaged my shoulders while standing behind me.
I looked up at him and gave him a small smile, “Thank you for helping me.” I said softly.
“My pleasure.”
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Nana Tour Episode Three
I sat on the couch while staring at the others running around trying to complete their missions.
I had no intention of completing my mission because it seemed as if I was the only member who was stuck with two missions.
“What’s your mission?” Looking up, I saw Joshua standing in front of me. I looked at him with suspicion.
“Why do you ask?” I retorted back, my guard up, knowing he hadn't been letting others complete their mission since the start.
“So that I can help you, silly.” He said with a laugh at which I just scoffed.
“You have been sabotaging Mingyu this whole time. There’s no way you want to help me.” Hearing my answer Joshua giggled knowing that it was true.
“I have no intention of sabotaging you, seriously. I just want to help you.” He said while taking a seat beside me.
“Why?” I asked with suspicion again as I gave him a side eye.
“Just like that.” He said with a shrug.
“You know when you say it like that it makes you look more suspicious.” I mumbled although I was already reaching out into my pocket to show him my mission.
“Well I do want to help you.” He said while taking the paper from my hand, “Why exactly are you not doing your… oh.” He said once he read the full text on the paper. I nodded while staring at nothing in particular.
“No one will jump in the pool willingly…although sharing ramen with a member should be an easy task.” Joshua encouraged me as he stood up and walked towards the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” I called out.
“To make ramen, you idiot!” I immediately got up from my seat and walked behind him.
—x—
Sitting on the dining table, I ate some ramen with Joshua although he ate most of it because I wasn’t hungry. “Mission one: share ramen with a member, done.” I nodded and hopped off the table.
“Who should I forcefully drag in the pool?” I asked him.
“Well you cannot drag me since I already know the mission. I can help you drag someone though.” He said at which I nodded.
“Seungkwan?” I chuckled at the way Joshua’s eyes immediately lit up and he stood up in full force to drag Seungkwan to the pool.
“Seungkwan!” Joshua and I yelled together as we went around looking for him.
We soon saw him pouring water in Mingyu’s meringue while Mingyu was just staring at him with no intention of stopping him.
“Seungkwan, could you come here for a bit?” I questioned, knowing he wouldn’t say no to me.
“In the pool area, Mingyu hid another bowl of meringue.” I whispered in his ear while Joshua just nodded along.
“Really?” Saying that he started running towards the indoor pool area with me and Joshua trailing behind him.
Once in the area, Seungkwan was busy looking for the bowl. Joshua and I shared a knowing glance to each other and held both hands of Seungkwan.
“What are you doing?” He yelled while thrashing around, trying to get out of our grips.
“One, two…three!” Saying that Joshua and I pushed Seungkwan in the pool and high-fived each other.
“What the hell! What was that for!” I ignored Seungkwan yelling in the background as I turned around and looked at the camera.
“You got that on camera right? Mission complete!” I said happily as I hugged Joshua from behind in excitement while Seungkwan was busy whining about getting tricked.
“This is not fair!” He whined while walking out of the room. I laughed loudly at his complaints.
“Why are you drenched, Seungkwan?” Jeonghan asked him as soon as he saw the state of Seungkwan.
Seungkwan simply threw a nasty glare towards Joshua and I who were still busy laughing. “Ask them.” He mumbled before going into his room to change.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ That one radio station behind the scenes
I stared at Joshua when I saw him busy fixing his hair. “What?” He asked with a smile on his face.
Moving my hand up, I imitated the way he fixed his hair, making him let out a small laugh. “I didn’t do it like that!” He said softly, his eyes turning into crescent shapes as he slapped my arm playfully.
“You did it like this.” I said and imitated him again while giggling. “One more time.” I said and fixed my hair dramatically while staring at the camera.
“I didn’t stare at the camera when doing it.” He mumbled at which I just shook my head and fixed my hair again showing him the way he fixed his hair.
“Stop it.” He whined and hit my arm again. I glared at him jokingly and swatted his hand away from me.
“Stop acting like kids,” Seungkwan said from beside me as he tried to stop me from teasing Joshua but I just ignored him and looked at Joshua again.
“Wait wait… come here.” I said and brought Joshua’s face closer and moved his hair back on purpose. Our faces closer to each other as we looked at the reflection in the camera. “Damn, look at that receding hairline, Shua.” I teased as he just laughed and pushed me away.
I giggled and pulled him closer to me as I pushed his hair back again.
“I should start taking care of my hair more.” Joshua said as he looked at himself again.
I just giggled and nodded before diverting my attention to the front again, failing to notice the way Joshua kept staring at me.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Bangkok 17hr concert
“Carat bong time!” Hoshi yelled out as all the members started doing what they prepared.
I stayed back and looked at all the members while they were busy performing.
I couldn’t help but smile when Joshua came forward and did the handstand.
Once done, he immediately turned around to look at me for approval. Giving him an okay sign, I nodded.
“Was it really okay?” He asked once he was beside me.
I nodded and spoke up, “You did great but I think your abs got revealed.” I said while giggling when I saw Joshua’s eyes widened as he quickly looked down at his shirt, only to find it now covering his stomach.
“Y/N, Shua, what are you guys talking about?” Soonyoung asked in the mic as I looked at him.
Joshua went towards Soonyoung to answer in his mic, “It’s a secret Soonyoung-ah. Tigers cannot know about it.” I teased at which Joshua held his hand out to high five me.
I held my hand up for him to high five but instead, he entangled our fingers together and pulled me in a hug.
“I wanna know too!” Soonyoung whined at which Joshua laughed into his mic while still hugging me.
“Sorry Hoshi-ya. Animals cannot know about our secret.” He said once he pulled away from the hug.
The whole stadium could be heard squealing and yelling at our interaction but it was as if Joshua didn’t seem to care about it.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Caratland 2025 D-1
I held the mic in my hand as I watched the members talk. Wearing a short skirt during this cold weather had to be one of the worst decisions made by the staff but it was nothing new.
I smiled when Joshua handed his blanket to Seungkwan. I looked around for my own blanket but didn’t find any.
I looked at one of the staff and requested for a blanket but they said that they just handed the extra one to Joshua.
I nodded, didn’t say anything, and turned my attention back to Seungcheol when he spoke up.
“Y/N-ah, are you cold?” Hoshi asked in the mic as I gave a small nod.
Before he could continue his sentence, Joshua stood up and walked towards me. Opening his blanket, he placed it on my knees and walked away coolly.
“Thank you,” I said softly into the mic, to which Joshua just nodded.
“A real gentleman indeed!” Seokmin exclaimed as he walked towards Joshua and handed him his own blanket.
“I guess we have two gentlemen in our team.” Wonwoo said teasingly.
living in gray areas of your city, out of the way of gangs and mafia territories, could only keep you safe for so long. it was only a matter of time before you began running into problems, or rather, problems began running into you.
▷ genre, warnings. nc-17, strangers 2 lovers, slow burn, mafia au, angst?, swearing, action, explosion + mentions of a bomb/dynamite, mentions of death + murder, allusions to violence, mentions of sickness, mentions of alcohol
▷ word count. 5.1k
a/n: ahh here we go!! :'))
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CHAPTER ONE: THE WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING
“SIR, THEY'RE PLANNING TO KILL YOU,” were words you never expected to leave your mouth tonight, or ever, in fact.
The nervous stammer in your voice and in your heartbeat kicked up when the man perched on the stool in front of you tilted violently toward the floor. “Kill—me? No,” he slurred, hand slapping against the countertop to catch himself.
It hardly worked, and your breath hitched in your throat as you were forced to set your tray on the bar to physically catch him. You suppressed the urge to glance over in the direction of the group of men in the back corner of the bar you worked at, all of whom were most definitely watching your interaction with their target now. If you weren't careful, you were going to become their next target. But you couldn't let them murder this man, not when you had overheard them admit to it verbatim.
The least you could do was let this guy get a headstart.
“Sir,” you said through gritted teeth as you set him upright. “Please listen to me—”
“They can't kiiiiiill me,” he giggled, swaying. He bit his lip, placing his index finger against his grinning mouth like he was telling you to be quiet.
It didn't matter how handsome you thought this guy was ten minutes ago; he was about to get his ass beat. Not just beat—put down, was the better phrase. Exterminated, executed, kaput.
“You need to run,” you hissed. A curse tumbled out of your mouth as you saw the group of men all begin to stand up out of your periphery. “Please! I don't need this on my conscience, for fuck's sake. I just need to get through college, man.”
For a second, you thought you saw his eyes flash, but it must have been a trick of the dim lighting. There was no way using logic would work on a drunk man. His dark bangs hung in his eyes now as he let his head duck toward his chest like he was about to fall asleep. “Okaaay, just gimme two—twooo seconds.”
“One, two—two seconds are up,” you said, tugging him off the stool and half dragging him toward the back door. “I'm going to take you through the staff entrance and you're going to run, okay?”
Oh, you were fucked. Cooked. Dead as the rat you saw lying in the gutter on your way over here earlier.
“You're going to run, and not look back,” you continued to ramble to him as you shouldered your way through the employee entrance. You garnered plenty of strange glances from your coworkers who were in the back kitchen and storeroom, but what their opinions were didn't matter to you right now. Plus, they'd seen weirder shit. “The entrance to the metro is two blocks away on Third. You're probably not even listening to me, but—”
You broke through the back entrance and into the chilly evening. Your breath came out in sharp, visible puffs of air, and the alleyway from the looks of it seemed clear. You were still on the clock technically, so leaving wasn't an option. This was the farthest you could go.
You grappled the guy by his shoulders again. “Hey,” you said, patting his cheeks. “Look alive, man. You need to run and I need to make sure my face doesn't get bashed in. Good luck.”
There it was again. His expression seemed to shudder like a glitch—from drunk as Hell, to stone cold sober, then back to that dazed inebriation. It was unnerving; a chill crawled down your spine, but you thought perhaps the sleep deprivation was slowly catching up to you.
That had to be it.
“Byeee!” the man sang as he skipped down the alleyway, swaying from side to side as he did.
Your heart beat was still lodged in your throat, even after he was out of sight. Had you just saved the guy or doomed him further? You weren't sure, but you deluded yourself into thinking it was the former as you returned to your shift and responsibilities.
It wasn't easy, though.
As any normal person would proceed after the events you experienced tonight, you didn't proceed. In fact, you'd almost dropped about a dozen glasses, crashed into two coworkers, spilled a Bloody Mary, and sliced your hand while cutting up a lime wedge and subsequently getting lime juice in the cut. Your coworkers thought you'd gone crazy; you were never this clumsy.
When they practically shoved you out the door an hour earlier than usual with promises to cover you, you had nothing else to do but go home. You couldn't help that your mind was plagued by the consequences of your actions. Was there an easier way to handle tonight's catastrophe? One that would have ensured the guy got out of this safe and sound?
You weren't sure.
You held the side of your head as you yawned and walked down the street in the direction of the metro entrance on Third Street. Perhaps leaving early tonight was a good thing. You did have that one assignment you needed to finish up before…
The thought dissipated from your head like smoke in the night.
When you turned the corner, the metro entrance just across the road, you were met instead by flashing red and blue lights. There was a police barricade set up consisting of crisscrossing yellow tape and white and blue cruisers. Some civilians like yourself lingered to catch a glimpse of whatever had transpired, and for a pregnant moment, you thought this was the scene of the crime—the man from before… you'd failed.
An anchor of grief and distress sank in your gut. This… oh, fuck. This was all your fault. If you had handled it better, maybe sheltered him in the backroom instead—
But as you craned your neck to see past the officers, you realized that it wasn't one dead man lying on the pavement… It was five. In fact, you recognized their faces as the group of men who said they were going to be killing another man tonight. Instead, they were the ones who were dead.
What in all Hell happened here?
The memory of the lone man's eyes shuddered in the forefront of your mind. For a second, you humored the thought that he'd been pretending to be drunk off his face. There was no way, right?
Had he—had he even smelled like alcohol? A wave of cold realization washed over you. Maybe you'd thought it was because he was just a super lightweight drinker.
No. No, it wasn't possible for one man to take on five of them. Not when all those men who currently laid dead on the street were all at least double the size of him. The man hadn't been scrawny, just lean, but he was no heavyweight champion either.
“Miss?” An officer approached you at the barricade. “We'd like to ask you to please return home. It's not safe here.”
You swallowed. “Y—yes, of course,” you stammered, already backing away. You fisted your shaky hands in the pockets of your coat as you resumed your trek to the metro station.
But as you were about to descend the stairs into the station below, your eyes caught movement far across the street. Your mouth went dry.
There, leaning against the mouth of the alleyway a safe distance away from the crime scene, was the man you'd ferried out the back entrance of the bar. He looked nowhere near drunk with his eyes narrowed like twin daggers as he watched the EMTs shuttle the corpses into the back of the ambulance.
He must have felt your gaze on him then, because he turned his head to meet your eyes. He lifted a single finger up to his lips like earlier tonight—shh. When you blinked, he was gone, as if he hadn't been there at all.
You sprinted home after that, glancing over your shoulder and jumping at shadows too many times to count.
You didn't sleep well for three nights straight. After the third night, you trudged out of your room the next morning looking like you'd risen straight out of a corpse drawer at the morgue.
“Sheesh, Yn. You look like a fucking ghost, girl.”
You blinked from the bright lights as you slid onto the stool at the counter. “I wish I was a fucking ghost,” you muttered without thinking. Maybe then you wouldn't have to live in fear of that night. “Sorry, that wasn't worded right.”
Your roommate and good friend since freshman year of high school, Shin Ryujin, frowned at you as she shook her iced coffee in the aluminum drink shaker. “Babe, do you need a girl's night? You haven't been yourself since your last shift at work.”
Oh, right. And there was that thing where you were avoiding the bar and pretending to have a severely infectious case of Hand, Foot, Mouth Disease. You feared seeing that man again, whoever he was.
You shook your head. “I dunno, Ryu. I think I'm just scaring myself for no reason.”
“It's about that thing that happened near work, right? I thought you said you weren't there when it happened.”
That was technically right. You hadn't seen those men get killed, but you'd seen the bloody aftermath of that ballroom dance. It was enough to make bile creep up your throat again. “Yeah… I guess it's just grated on me the wrong way.”
For the most part, you attended school the same. You were currently registered with one of the city's community colleges, taking a mixture of classes online and in-person. Today, you somehow got yourself looking slightly more alive to attend one of your in-person classes. You decided, as you took the forty-five bus to class, that you would go back to work by the end of the week. A severe case of HFMD could be healed by then, right? You were sure your boss wouldn't know the difference, just as long as you were no longer contagious.
Bars weren't usually known for their top notch working conditions and treatment anyway.
When the bus's automated audio system announced your stop as the upcoming one, you reached over toward the window to gently tug the yellow cord down.
Like second nature, you called out a thank you to the bus driver as you hopped off the bus at your stop.
The main campus of your community college was located close to your apartment, and not quite in the heart of downtown. Where you were wasn't exactly the most affluent area either, but you got by to the point of contentment most days. Your class today was held in one of the buildings close to the college library, and you swiftly made your way there.
When you arrived, you sought out a seat that had its own area with a safe distance between you and everyone else. Sometimes it was just easier to keep your head down and focus on academics, rather than making friends or finding allies.
With the clock striking down to one minute until class began, you tugged your earbuds out to stash them in your backpack, only to catch the tail end of something your peers were discussing a few seats away.
“—saying it was the Captain.”
“The Captain? As in… that Captain? But this isn't even his territory; why is he here?”
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Captain. Why did that sound familiar?
Your instructor arrived to start off the class, but instead of pulling up the reading on your laptop, you instead searched up the keywords “captain” and the name of your city. The first things that popped up from the search were dozens of headlines:
LEADER OF ATEEZ SEEN OUTSIDE TERRITORY; POSSIBLE TERRITORY DISPUTE?
SAFETY CONCERNS OVER FIVE MEN DEAD ON FIFTH. COULD BE HEIGHTENED GANG ACTIVITY.
WHO IS THE CAPTAIN OF ATEEZ & THE 'PIRATE KING’?—
You swiftly shut that tab down. That was enough ghost stories for the day. You didn't need anything else making your head spin other than what happened the other night. And if this Captain character had anything to do with that man and the five killings…
No, you definitely wanted nothing to do with all of this.
You had long since known that your city was run by a network of mafias. They were not all in league with each other—you were just lucky to have been born in an era where there were no longer constant turf wars taking place. You were also fortunate to have grown up in one of the gray area communities where mafias and gangs agreed to treaties and armistices. No one was allowed to lay claim to a gray area; there was a significance to having middle grounds like them, after all.
Of course, there would always be some bozo who wanted to expand his group's territory, and the first thought was always a gray area. Most of the time, those efforts were shut down by the other gangs.
Most of the time.
The mafia family Ateez was a new name to you. They had risen about three years ago, a dark horse amongst all the rest. They were one of the few, if not the only family you knew who climbed the ranks from absolutely nothing. They had built theirs from scratch; it wasn't inherited.
That was all you cared to find out about them, anyway. Most of the places you traveled to around the city were gray areas, and so the thought of interacting with any of the big five families never crossed your mind.
At least, until now. With the news of Ateez being spotted in a gray area, that could mean they had grown to seek out a territory expansion. And turf wars didn't just cost material resources—they cost blood and manpower.
You found yourself at the bank two days later. The line was long, but your patience was infinite. Your boss insisted you wait one more day before coming back in because she feared another food administration scandal, so you continued to keep your distance. With all the shit cropping up on the news though, you thought it best to have some physical funds on you in case you and Ryujin had to make a mad dash for the next city over.
You sighed under your breath as you shifted up in the long, taped-off line. A podcast played in your ears as you waited, your eyes wandering from potted plants, to the flat ceiling lined in fluorescent lighting panels, to people's faces, to service dogs on leashes, to—wait a minute.
Your eyes snagged onto someone's face. He was seated in the waiting area just slightly to your two o'clock. You thought you recognized him, but when you considered him for a moment longer, you snapped out of it—it was weird and rude to stare. For a moment, he almost looked like that drunk (or undrunk) man from several nights ago.
However, his hair wasn't that light brown shade before, and you couldn't quite see his face with those sunglasses on… nevermind.
A shiver crawled down your spine, and you shifted your eyes toward something else.
At last, when it was your turn to finally see a teller, you made your way to the open window. The person seated behind it was young and handsome, with dark brown hair curled around the nape of his neck, a red-pinkish birthmark at the corner of his left eye, and a pair of thin-wire frames perched upon his nose. The little, plastic name card on his desk read Yeosang K.
He smiled cordially at you. “Hello, how may I help you today?”
“Hi,” you chirped. “I was wondering if I could make a withdrawal?”
“Of course, may I have your name and the last four digits of your IDN?”
The remainder of the transaction carried over smoothly, and you thanked Yeosang as you tucked the packet of emergency cash into the safety of your backpack. You could hear Yeosang calling for the next client to step forward while you walked away toward the exit, your eyes not watching where you were going when your jacket sleeve got caught in your bag’s zipper.
“Agh—I’m so…” The words jammed in your throat when you saw a flash of red lights. You barely glanced up at the person you bumped into. “Sorry about that.”
“Just watch where you're going,” they bit out and continued on their way.
Sheesh. You threw a disgruntled look back at the person, noting the hood thrown over their head, their tense form—you were sure their backpack was left open for some reason and you would have told them it wasn't zipped if they hadn't been so terse with you.
With a huff, you resumed your walk back to the front door, stopping when you remembered you needed to grab a form from the counter for Ryujin.
“Shit,” you grumbled. The forms were back in the same direction that guy walked toward.
But as you made your way over to the far side of the room where the spare forms were, you noted that he had disappeared. Your head went on a swivel, frowning. Surely he couldn't have left the room so fast…?
Whatever. You pursed your lips as you skimmed through the forms to find the right one. All this red tape just to file for a new checking account. The new policies were beginning to become quite the nuisance—
Thump.
The toe of your shoe met something solid beneath the table as you shifted over to look at the forms at the far end. You frowned, peering beneath to see if it was just the table leg or the wall or… a backpack?
It was black and unassuming, left wide open, and—
You sucked in a breath and stumbled back from it. That… was that what you thought it was? You'd seen bright red, flashing numbers like a countdown on the screen; a flurry of four colored wires, and silver duct tape.
You shouldn't be snooping, but it was all right in front of you.
Your heartbeat drummed in your ears like a war cry as you carefully looked back inside the bag opening, and you confirmed that it was, in fact, a bomb.
At least, it appeared to be one.
You shot upright and spun around in frantic motions, trying to find a security guard or anyone to come help you or maybe even just tell you that you'd gone crazy. There, by the door!
As you speed-walked back over to the tall security guard stationed by the exit, you chanted nervously in your head: You shouldn't have snooped, you shouldn't have snooped, you shouldn't have snooped!
“Uhm, excuse me?”
The man hummed, eyebrows arching in question.
“I—I think there's an explosive in that backpack.” Great, so you really did sound insane.
For some reason, however, he didn't belittle you or try to convince you that you might have been wrong. His expression seemed to steel over in concern, and he followed you back over to where the backpack was left. You stood a few steps behind him as he squatted down and carefully inspected the outside, before looking inside.
You saw him stiffen, the thought flying to your head: RUN RUN RUN!
With one hand continuing to hold the bag still, the guard used his other to turn the walkie talkie attached to his right shoulder strap. He brought the speaker to his mouth and spoke into it lowly, “We've got a code 6036. Get everyone out of the building now.”
Somebody clicked back on the other side. “Copy that, Mingi. You know what to do.”
From one of the doors behind the teller booths, more security guards filed into the room to calmly urge people toward the exit doors. A wave of confusion washed over the entire building, but you were attempting to help get everyone toward the exit door with a nervous smile plastered on your face.
“Please, ma'am, I'm sure it's nothing to be concerned about!” Except it definitely was something to be concerned about. Your heart palpitated so violently in your chest, you thought it could burst out onto the linoleum floor at any moment now.
Within five minutes, you and the guards managed to chorale everyone into the parking lot a safe distance from the bank and the bomb. You stood nervously in the center of the group, teeth gnawing on the inside of your cheek, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you tried not to pace.
“Everyone, we understand that this is confusing at the moment,” said one guard who must have been the team leader. “But we have the authorities on the way, and this will only take a few moments. Thank you for your patience.”
More murmurs erupted around you. What were you supposed to say? That there was homemade-fucking-dynamite beneath the mortgage forms? Someone really didn't like this place.
But even so, it was odd to see something like this happen to a gray area bank. It was a relatively small branch, too, nothing corporate.
You hadn't seen the timer on the bomb, only the flickering numbers, so you hadn't a clue what time it was at now. You sucked in a breath of confidence and marched over to the guard, Mingi, from earlier. He was standing beside another security guard, a man slightly taller than himself, as the two spoke in grave, hushed tones.
“Excuse me? Hi, I'm the girl from earlier,” you said as you saw recognition flash in his eyes.
He nodded, the corner of his lips surging upward. “Yeah, I remember. Something I can help you with?”
“Well, actually, I was wondering if you saw how much time there was left on the countdown.”
Mingi's brows furrowed together, a frown settling on his mouth. “It was probably about eight or so minutes. Definitely enough for whoever set it down to get away from here.”
Ah, that made sense.
His friend beside him gestured toward you. Now that you thought about it, his face seemed familiar to you… where had you seen him before? “Did you happen to see who the backpack belonged to?”
“I did. They were, uhm, they were in a dark colored hoodie? Their stature was shorter than you guys, but they seemed very tense.” You frowned. “I didn't see their face though, sorry.”
The guard sent you a kind smile. “No worries. That's more than we could've asked for. When the time comes, we'll be able to comb through the security footage and—”
“EVERYBODY, GET DOWN! IT'S GONNA BLOW!”
Your eyes widened—what?—and even before your brain could catch up with you, both of the men you stood with shoved you behind them to shield you from the explosion.
You tucked your face into your arms and turned away, as a deafening BOOM erupted behind you.
There was a ringing in your ears, the air all around you hot and stifling. Cries and sirens filled the afternoon silence. When you pulled your face up and out of your arms, you saw what used to be the bank now a massive kindling for its own fire.
You took in the scene with horror on your face, glass and debris scattered across the ground, people helping other people to their feet, and your ears kept ringing and ringing.
Vaguely, you heard someone call out your name, but your eyes were glued to the scene of the once standing building before you.
Wasn't there more time on the countdown? Who could've done this?
“Yn—are—okay?” Was that voice real? “Are you hurt?”
You shook your head, patting away the arm that was trying to get your attention. You stared at the ground for a long time, trying to get your bearings.
Everything kept ringing and ringing and—
You glanced up then, swallowing roughly. Your eyes just so happened to go across the lot to where a man stood with one of the security guards. You recognized him, both of them. The man was the one you thought was the undrunk one from earlier this week, and the security guard was who calmed everyone down outside.
They both looked over toward you when they felt your gaze, and the former hung his sunglasses on the collar of his shirt.
Your breath hitched in your throat. It was the man from several nights ago. You stumbled back as if you'd seen a ghost, but he merely inclined his chin to you with a gleam of respect in his eyes.
You didn't know what that meant—didn’t care what that meant. You just wanted to go the fuck home.
There were familiar faces in the crowd tonight as you tied your waist apron on and picked up a serving tray. It made your fingers shake as you pasted a customer service smile on your face to start off the night. It was the day after the bomb at the bank went off, and yet, here you were a little over twenty-four hours later.
The small television in the corner of the bar played a news broadcast that recapped the events from yesterday afternoon, reporting that the authorities still had no clues as to who could have planted the bomb inside. You had declined an interview from reporters yesterday, having gotten out of there as soon as the paramedics let you leave.
But as you scanned the barroom, you noticed the two security guards from yesterday, Mingi and his other tall friend, seated at one of the tables in the back corner. Your brows furrowed—it could have just been a coincidence that they ended up in a bar that just so happened to be your place of work.
You were about to head over to them to see how they were when one of your coworkers stopped you.
“Hey, uhm, Boss wants to see you in her office,” he said to you.
You blinked in surprise. “Oh. Did she say what for?”
He shook his head. “No, but I don't think it's anything bad. Good to have you back though, Yn.”
“Thanks, man,” you said, tucking your serving tray under your arm to head back through the service door to the back hallways. You were sure this had to be about you missing work for the past week. It was probably just some regulation things, maybe paperwork?
When you reached your manager's office, you gave the wooden surface a generous knock so she could hear it over the volume in the main room. You heard a muffled “come in” and paused. You were pretty sure that was not your manager's voice, but nonetheless, you let yourself in.
You froze in the doorway. Who you found behind the desk was definitely not your manager.
It was the man who had been haunting you seated at the desk, his hair a light brown and styled neatly, and he wore a dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. You were beginning to realize how many subtle touches of luxury he boasted, from his wristwatch to the chain on his collarbones and the diamond studs winking at you from his earlobes.
He arched a brow at you, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Yn? Please, take a seat.”
Oh no. Did he own this place? Was he a shareholder? Were you about to get chopped?
You gulped, closing the door behind you as you settled into the seat. “You're the man from—”
“I am,” he confirmed with a nod. There was a slight upward turn of his lips. “You have a knack for being in the right place at the right time, Yn.”
“More like the wrong place and the wrong time,” you muttered. “You were at the bank yesterday.”
“That I was.”
“Why—why are you here?”
He smiled then. “Ah, well, if you would afford me just a moment, I'll explain that to you. My name is Kim Hongjoong, but I don't expect you to know who I am. Just know that your boss owes me, which is why I'm able to meet with you here.”
Your boss owed him? There were so many questions going through your head at the moment. “Alright…” He was right though; you didn't recognize his name.
“You've saved my life twice now.”
You straightened.
His knuckles knocked against the desk as he threw one leg over the other and leaned back in the office chair. “And two life debts isn't something I can just forget about.”
Your eyes shuttered, then widened. “Uhm, respectfully sir, you could definitely just forget about it. I don't need anything from you.” You didn't want any more problems. No, you didn't need any more problems. If being connected to this man in any way meant you had to deal with what you had this past week, then you didn't want any part of it.
“I thought you might say that, and unfortunately, the honor code I live by makes it impossible for me to simply forget. However, if you do come up with something I can do for you, then you can find me here.” Hongjoong took something out of the top desk drawer and slid it across the table to you.
Curious, you reached forward to inspect it. It was a standard sized business card, but with what looked like a compass insignia embossed in the thick cardstock. Along with Hongjoong's name and contact information, there was also an address leading to someplace called the Shipwreck.
Who was this guy?
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him stand up. You watched him round the desk to lean against the side closest to you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. “Thank you for saving my life, Yn.”
Flustered, you stammered out, “Oh, uh, it was nothing really. I actually thought I'd gotten you killed that night.” Not to mention that he definitely wasn't even drunk. What did he mean you'd saved his life?
You shoved the business card into the back pocket of your jeans and stood up. “If that's all, I'm on the clock.”
“By all means,” he said, raising his palms and gesturing to the door.
With nothing else left to say, you slipped out of the room and back down the hall with your serving tray. You shook your head as you entered the service floor again. What an odd week.
Your head darted in the direction Mingi and his friend had been seated, but where they were sat a new group of people. A frown flitted across your face. You must have missed them.
1.8k words, sangyeon and his friends are asked a very important question in wake of your wedding, fluff, est relationship au, transcript-style writing?, mild swearing, mentions of food
a/n: wrote this on the plane ride home :')
[The camera shifts and focuses on the figures in its viewfinder. They're a pair of handsome, young men—one of several to come in this series. A soft cough is heard from behind the camera, drawing their attention toward the sound.]
[JACOB and KEVIN flash the interviewer twin smiles.]
INTERVIEWER: Hi, thanks for being here today.
JACOB: Oh, it's our pleasure!
INTERVIEWER: As you may know, this will be a part of a short documentary-style film for the bride and groom. This session should be brief depending on what your answer to the question is.
[KEVIN's eyebrows arch slightly.] KEVIN: Oh, a question? Only one?
INTERVIEWER: Yes, just one. You and the groom are all good friends, right?
[JACOB and KEVIN nod, exchanging glances.]
KEVIN: Definitely. We're all in this big circle of friends. We kind of accumulated numbers throughout college, so to speak. Is that the question? [He chuckles.]
INTERVIEWER: No, no. My question has to do with the couple themselves. When did you know they were the ones for each other?
[ERIC claps his hands with a boyish grin, palms warming against one another as a response cooks in his head. Beside him, SUNWOO glances over with a silent look of contemplation.]
ERIC: I remember exactly when.
[The words “As expected from our resident The Notebook enthusiast” flash across the screen briefly.]
ERIC: It was when Sangyeon hyung first introduced us to her. It was at a bonfire party at the beach, and I remember how excited he was. His eyes were just… brighter than the flipping fire whenever he talked about her, talked to her, looked at her. Man… [He shakes his head with almost a wistful smile.] Anyways, the first thing he does when they get there is introduce her to every single one of his friends.
[SUNWOO starts to nod.] SUNWOO: You know, I do remember that. Hyung brought her over to me and I had half a hot dog in my mouth. He started talking about how she liked Kimi ni Todoke, and I got excited, but I couldn't fucking talk 'cause—
ERIC: Basically, hyung wanted her to build connections with all of us. He made the effort to take that first step, and she continued walking that road. They're perfect for each other.
SUNWOO: You interrupted me.
[ERIC only smiles, but it's clearly with a strain of pettiness at the corners.] ERIC: Well, you ate my ramen. And no one wants to hear about how you had a hot dog in your mouth.
[SUNWOO sticks his tongue out at his counterpart.] SUNWOO: Yn would…
YOUNGHOON: Well, this should be fun. [His face lights up with a smile, impish or innocent, no one can tell. He is just that good.]
[HAKNYEON purses his lips.] HAKNYEON: I feel like it wasn't really a moment for me, but a gradual realization, y'know.
[YOUNGHOON nods.] YOUNGHOON: I think you're right. It's like what they say about love: it sneaks up on you; but for us, it was the epiphany that our friend had found his perfect match.
[The friends share a smile with each other. Their answer is surprisingly wholesome.]
HAKNYEON: But if you want a specific moment—
YOUNGHOON: What about that one game night? They were being so sickly domestic, and I can't remember who said it…
HAKNYEON: Ah! It was Changmin. He was doing that fake gagging thing, and Yn and Sangyeon just did not give a shit. [A bright laugh falls from his mouth.] I bet they were already talking about rings then.
YOUNGHOON: That would make a lot of sense. 'Just get married already.’ And I don't think anyone expected them to look at each other like that.
INTERVIEWER: Like what?
HAKNYEON: Like... the only thing stopping them from going through with it right then and there was that there was no minister to ordain them.
CHANHEE: Yah, Ji Changmin, take this seriously!
[CHANGMIN lets out a high-pitched laugh, landing a playful slap on his friend's shoulder.] CHANGMIN: I will, I will—I swear!
[A sigh.] CHANHEE: As for your question, that specific moment probably came when Yn-ie confided in us about being scared. D'you remember that?
[His companion suddenly nods with an incredible amount of sobriety compared to just a few seconds ago.] CHANGMIN: Mmh. Yeah, that actually was… pretty revelatory.
INTERVIEWER: Scared? How would that correlate to your confidence in their partnership?
CHANHEE: Well, that night she told us how scared she was about it all going wrong. This is the longest relationship she's been in—I hope that's fine to say, Yn-ie—but her feelings were so overwhelming that she just…
CHANGMIN: There were a lot of things going wrong at that point in her life, but one of the few things she stressed about most was making sure that she and Sangyeon hyung were okay. She didn't need to say that he was her person; it's just something that you knew.
[Another surprisingly wholesome answer.]
[CHANHEE nods his agreement.] CHANHEE: Well said. I think when you're scared to lose a person in the way that she was, that's when you know.
CHANGMIN: Still don't know why she wouldn't let Chucky give her a hug though.
CHANHEE: Absolutely no one wants a hug from that cretin.
[And there it is. But it's the thought that counts, right?]
HYUNJAE: Man! Do I have a shit ton of stories—oh, we're allowed to curse, right? There aren't kids watching this at the wedding, are there? [He winces slightly, suddenly thinking of Sangyeon's nephews. Quickly, he mouths a very clear apology to the camera, but he doesn't know that others have already cursed in this video, too, and cared far less.]
[Like a couple of his friends, JUYEON is the one to marinate on the question a little longer. He's not as vocal about his romanticisms, but they do exist. There's a reason he loves Paris like he does.] JUYEON: Once, hyung wasn't feeling great. I forgot which finals week it was, but he'd had such a Hell week already—
HYUNJAE: So we can curse? Wait, is saying Hell a curse? [He waves away the thought.] Whatever. Yeah, I remember that one. I think it was our senior year of uni and he was trying to land a permanent position at his internship, too.
JUYEON: It was brutal out there. He got sick, but refused to rest when any of us tried to get him to.
[A nod.] HYUNJAE: Yn was the one who talked some sense into him. I don't know what she said to him, but I saw that man's defenses crumble right on his face. It was incredible.
JUYEON: Yeah… and I think besides making me realize that they were meant for each other, it made me also realize… if Sangyeon takes care of us, then who takes care of Sangyeon?
JUYEON and HYUNJAE, together: Yn.
INTERVIEWER: They take care of each other.
[JUYEON nods.] JUYEON: Of course. It's like they know exactly what the other person needs at that moment. It's magic. I want that one day.
HYUNJAE: I would call it a hive mind, but—who am I kidding? They're kind of perfect for each other.
[JACOB and KEVIN glance at each other again, and it's as if they've communicated through looks alone.]
KEVIN: We went ring shopping with him. [He grins brightly.]
JACOB: And it was an honor. Even though it was also very stressful. I can't imagine how stressful planning this wedding was, though.
[KEVIN wipes an imaginary bead of sweat from his forehead.] KEVIN: I am so glad I was not the Maid of Honor. I do not envy Soyeon. But yeah, we went ring shopping with him, and when we were at the last shop of the day, he got a call from her, from Yn.
JACOB: Mhm. Very standard ‘I’ll be home by dinner’ call, but at that moment, Sangyeon finds the ring.
INTERVIEWER: The ring?
[They nod.] JACOB and KEVIN, together: The ring.
JACOB: And time just kind of stops for a moment, before he's furiously pointing to it and waving us over—
KEVIN: All while Yn's on the other side of the phone, mind you.
JACOB: When the jeweler pulls the ring out of the case—and he just melts. It was the one he was looking for; we all knew. And he motioned for the ring to be bought and packed up, and then went right back to the call.
KEVIN: You could just tell that he was happy to just hear her voice. She must've said she was tired or something, because he offered to go pickup dinner and meet her at home.
JACOB: I know this isn't like the moment we realized they were meant to be, because obviously we thought that before, as well.
KEVIN: Somebody needed to talk about the ring shopping fiasco.
[They point at each other.] JACOB and KEVIN, together: Agreed.
INTERVIEWER: Do you need more time?
[SANGYEON glances up, rubbing his palms against his thighs. It's somewhat anxious, but there's a simultaneous calmness to his facial expression.] SANGYEON: No, I think I've got it. Though, it might sound cliché to some, but it's true, at least for me.
INTERVIEWER: That's all that matters—that it's true to you.
SANGYEON: You're right. I guess I've always known, somehow, that she was the one. It's really hard to envision where I'd be without her with me. I can't see myself rolling out of an empty bed or having coffee by myself in the mornings. I can't go without her hugs anymore, her smile and laugh. It's funny how much of a person can become so integral to your life that they almost become merged with your own.
INTERVIEWER: Some of the testimonials say you're close to soulmates.
[He chuckles, eyebrows raising.] SANGYEON: Is that what the kids are saying? I'm surprised. Soulmates is a… good way to put it.
INTERVIEWER: Do you not agree?
SANGYEON: No, I do agree. I just—we’re just two people in love. I think she would be in so many brilliant places even without me, but she makes me better. I am a better man with her by my side. If I had to pinpoint an exact moment, though?
[He pauses.] SANGYEON: It was snowing. Maybe the first snow of that year—it probably was. But I was making dinner, and she came barreling in all covered in that fluffy ice, but her eyes were twinkling and she was grinning from ear to ear. She pushes my coat over my body and drags me outside to see it fall… and I fell in love with her all over again. And I think… I think maybe that was when I realized I wanted to experience this—her—for the rest of my life.
INTERVIEWER: What would you say to her now?
[He takes a moment to gather himself, and there's a smile crawling onto his face when he raises his head to look straight into the camera.] SANGYEON: My love, I can't wait to marry you and experience everything, new or old, with you. I love you so much.
[The screen fades to black, marking the end to this section of the video.]
1.2k words, obvious tension, ig u could call it pining if you wanted to, fluff(...?), very light swearing, slow dancing with the friend you really want to be more than friends with, i also write in PRESENT TENSE??? absolutely unheard-of.
a/n: suddenly had a burst of inspiration tonight. blame it on this gorgeous edit of leehi's only
“It's pretty simple.”
Changmin holds out a hand to you—his left for your right—your fingers slotting against his like twin pieces of wood carved perfectly to fit the other. He coughs once, avoiding your eyes as you do the same, guiding your other hand to rest on his shoulder before settling his right hand on your waist.
You feel the warmth of his palm over your side, the nerves there sensitive. The tension in your shoulders pull as you pretend you're not bothered.
The position has you toe to toe, noses not nearly close enough to be brushing, but in proximity enough where you could count the eyelashes behind his glasses and smell the faint scent of aftershave on his skin. Your pulse pounds somewhere at your throat; your carotid artery has always been strongest around him.
“Pretty simple for you,” you choke out in an attempt to lighten the heft in the air. Maybe it's the dim lighting as you and he stand in the middle of your living room, less than two breaths apart; maybe it's the faint knowledge that you are alone in this apartment together; maybe it's just the way his palm melts against yours. “I've got two left feet, y'know.”
He huffs out a laugh—breathy, barely there. It grazes your cheekbone in a phantom caress that seems to collapse all your nerves running from your face, down your spine in an intricate line of dominoes. “Yeah, don't worry. I know.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Hey! What's that supposed to mean?”
“That my feet still hurt from when you stepped on them two days ago.”
“That was an accident,” you say, rolling your eyes, and giving yourself a chance to look away from his stare.
(If you only stand here, did his hand in yours spell out something different?)
“There was dog shit on the ground and I didn't see it in time.”
It's a defense Changmin's undoubtedly heard at least five times since the incident, and he doesn't really care that you sound like a broken record. He's the one who keeps egging you on to say it again and again; he's the one who keeps dredging up that brief moment when your body brushed up against his. And maybe your winter jackets prevented any true skin to skin contact, but it didn't take away from the fact that he wants you to remember.
He snorts. “Yeah, alright,” he drawls in a vocal tone that's low and lazy, and the corner of his mouth curls upward in a half-smirk that can only mean he's teasing. “But I swear to god, this'll be the easiest dance you ever do.”
“Willing to bet on it?” you ask in incredulity, shifting on your socked feet.
Changmin cocks a brow at you, and you see it appear over the top rim of his glasses frame. “Stop stalling.”
“Damn.”
It almost gets a full smile out of him. You see his lip quiver, and you count it as a win.
Your dance partner-slash-friend turns his head toward his phone laying on the coffee table nearby. “Hey Siri, play Only.”
“Playing Only by Leehi.”
Your pulse leaps so hard you can feel it twitch against the meat of your neck. “Only?” you query with a chuckle that sounds unnervingly anxious. “Never took you for a romantic.”
He gives a shrug with one shoulder, the movement stiff. It's unlike him, you realize, as someone you understand to be graceful and effortless—a breath of air in his own right. “It’s a good song. Okay, just follow my lead.”
“Okay,” you whisper, your head immediately ducking to watch his feet and yours to prevent any collisions or overlap. “And by the way, I'm not refuting that it's a good song—”
“Eyes up here.”
Your body moves as a marionette strung to the will of his commands. You meet his eyes again, and you have no other choice but to hold them—to hold two things that have the ability to make your every will crumble. “Why?”
Your bodies are moving in a loose diamond: back, right, left, forward; back, right, left, forward. And it's to the slow rhythm of Leehi's croons and the piano; time stands still… there is nowhere else in the world to be, but here, with his hand wrapped around yours and your eyes wrapped up in one another's.
Briefly, you register the bob of his throat. “Hyperfocusing on your feet will make you fuck up,” he reasons quietly. “Just—the music will sway you.”
“Do you do this often?” you ask. “Think about slow dancing to this song, I mean.” You hope your hands aren't truly as clammy as you think they feel. “Is this on a playlist of other slow, romantic ballads, Ji Changmin?”
“What's with the interrogation?”
“I only ask because I'm curious.” The words coming out your mouth surge forward from the nervous pounding of your heart. It beats in three-four time, increasing in intensity as the song crescendos.
Changmin doesn't answer the question. “You wanna spin? I think you're ready for a spin.”
Your eyes blow wide open. “Uhm no. What do you mean spi—”
The curse on your tongue is lost in the wind, as Changmin effortlessly twirls you outward until your arms are extended and your fingers barely latch onto the other. In that brief pause, your eyes meet again, and it's the beam of delight on his lips that make your ankles want to twist, a muscle in your heart contracting violently. He's pulling you back toward him again, then, one half of a piece of string that physically cannot take being apart from the other.
And in the beat of time that your world is spinning, you realize you don't know where to look.
But in the blur, it's Changmin you see.
Your feet fumble over one another, and his fingers hold fast to your own, clutching yours in a grip of iron as if he sensed your stumble before your brain could. Your body hits his chest, and you're bunching his shirt in your fingers.
His hands have left yours and found the curve of your waist, chest rising and falling in rapid movements even as the song in the background is slowing to a close. “Sorry, I” —he’s lost his head for a moment, his voice, his words; and he swallows when you raise your head to look at him— “should've taught you how to spot first. That was my bad.”
“No, you're fine. It's fine,” you reassured him, pulling back.
It's jarring how cold your waist feels where his hands have fallen away.
Changmin grasps the back of his neck. “See? Not too bad, right?” The question comes with a slight upward intonation, toeing the water.
You nod. “Yeah, no. For sure. You made it easy.”
He smiles then, the corners of it digging into his cheeks to form wells of contentment in the flesh. You miss the way his hands hesitate in the air between you two, because he has never hesitated before. “You'll be fine with whoever they pair you up with,” he says to you.
“Right.” It's stupid; you almost forgot you were learning to dance for an event, and not just because you wanted to know what it felt like. “Thanks.” For a moment there, you could fool yourself into thinking that there was something more.
“Sure,” and he looks at you like it's nothing close to what he really wants to say.
When you bring it up to him, he waves it away—a breath that has become air—and tells you it's something for another day.
trope/au » established relationship au, non-idol au
genre » very fluffy, falling asleep during studying and boyfriend juyeon who is worried for you because you don't take the greatest care of yourself, (it really was supposed to be fluff all through the end) turns suggestive towards the last quarter of the story, reader is a bit playful, juyeon is very in love with you, of course you are super in love with him too
word count; estimated reading time » 1032; ~4 mins
warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » quite suggestive at the end, indeed...a suggestive sentence at the very end, juyeon lifts the reader up, reader wears glasses, reader implied to be smaller than juyeon, juyeon restrains reader's hands, pet names (bubs, baby girl)
navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz masterlist 🤍 ateez choi san ver.
thank you to @jaehunnyy for her hard work in finding the pictures for the banners above and proofreading a bit of this one! you once again saved me from a potential crying session fr 😀 and also chip, ig this is your second late bday present? even though technically it's the same as the first one 😭
It’s not an unusual occurrence for you to be staying up late at night and for Juyeon to find you draped over your books and worksheets when he gets home. In fact, it’s becoming such a usual occurrence that Juyeon is making it a habit to open the front door with such gentleness that the click of the door opening would be too loud for his liking. In reality, your study desk at your shared apartment is quite a distance from the entrance of the apartment, so if Juyeon wanted to, he could enter in the same way as if you were awake.
But he didn’t want to.
In the rare case that you decide to snooze off on the couch, he doesn’t want to be the one to ruin your precious, peaceful sleeping time. Unfortunately for him, he would still be needing to do it one way or another if he ever finds you asleep on the couch or anywhere but your shared bed. The victorious smile from closing the front door quietly soon turns upside down, frowning at the sight of your head lying on your stack of handouts in the study room. The stack acted as your pillow, your arms around the rectangular pile. You look like you have been resting your body for some time now, given that Juyeon’s soft head pat didn’t faze you at all. With a slightly heavy sigh, Juyeon makes his way to the other side of the desk to get a better look at your face. He kneels on the floor, content with being more at eye level with you.
He’s surprised to see that you must’ve been so exhausted that taking your glasses off might have been too much effort for you. The side frame completely rests on the paper, the nose pad of the glasses no longer resting properly on your nose. Juyeon hisses at how the hard plastic pushes against your nose, already imagining the pain when you wake up and realise tomorrow.
“Bubs,” he tests your consciousness with a whisper. “Your whole body is going to hurt when you wake up, you know?” Your breathing is still as even as before, and the no response from you deepens his frown. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to move you, okay?”
Juyeon rises to his feet once again, grabbing the blanket drapped on your study desk that he has prepared. He’s told you multiple times to at least cover your body if you don’t plan to take a nap on the bed, but he should have known that when tiredness kicks in, all a person wants to do is to close their eyes. Juyeon spreads the light cotton across your back, kissing the side of your head and humming sweet melodies to avoid surprising you too much with his movement.
“Juyeon?” You slur sleepily, still unable to fully wake up. Juyeon clicks your desk light off and soon sees your content smile at his little gesture. “When did you get home?”
“Just a few seconds ago. When did you fall asleep?”
“Just a few minutes ago.” A raised eyebrow from your boyfriend is what prompts you to tell him the truth. “A little longer than that.”
Juyeon tuts disapprovingly, “You can’t keep slouching off on the table. It’s not good for your body. And this,” he takes your glasses off by the hinges, “it’s not comfortable for you.”
You hum at his loving lecture for you, beginning to straighten your back from the long nap. Truthfully, if Juyeon weren’t beside you right now, you would be sending complaints to your past self for dozing off at the table, your back cramping and sore. But Lee Juyeon knows you too well, and the creases between your eyebrows tell him everything.
“See?” He reprimands.
You’re not given another chance to rebut when he swivels the chair around for you to face him. In a second, you’re in his arms, the back of your knee and back supported securely with his arms, and your shoulder pressed against his chest. Juyeon looks down at you, pressing a quick kiss on your forehead that you respond to by pressing yours along his jawline. Along the short walk to the adjacent room, you plant kisses all over his face, giggling at the way his cheeks grow red with every second.
Just a few seconds before Juyeon would rest you gently on the mattress, you steal a kiss from his plump lips, arms wrapped around his nape and threading your fingers into the strands of his hair. Juyeon almost stumbles but soon regains balance when he registers the way you delicately take his lips. Along with the giggles and fabric rustling against each other in the small room, it’s not long until your head properly lays on a pillow. Juyeon doesn’t let you breathe after, climbing on top of your figure with his palms beside your head to support himself. His knees sink to the mattress beside your thighs, and you’re left breathless with the man before you. The remnants of his cologne are clearer now, and the proximity leaves you curling up a side of your lips.
Your boyfriend knows the meaning of your expression well from experience. “Don’t rile me up, baby girl…”
Just like he did a second ago, your eyebrow rises. Your pointer traces along the center of his exposed neck, feeling the gulp and his intense stare on you. You glide across his skin, tracing along his collarbones slowly, making sure that your touch lingers on his skin. When your finger slides down to the neckline of his fabric, it curls around his shirt to pull his tense expression closer to you. A quick touch of your lips is all you spare him before regaining eye contact with him.
“And if I do?”
Those words are enough for Juyeon to lose control, pulling the sheets to his palms as he fists them tightly. One hand leaves the bed, restraining both your wrists under his hold above your head. He dives closer to the crook of your neck, ragged breathing and warm breath against your skin.
“I’ll make sure you’ll sleep peacefully for days.”
navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz masterlist 🤍 ateez choi san ver.
trope/au » established relationship au, non-idol au
genre » very fluffy, falling asleep during studying and boyfriend san who is worried for you because you don't take the greatest care of yourself, (it really was supposed to be fluff all through the end) turns suggestive towards the last quarter of the story, reader is a bit playful, san is very in love with you, of course you are super in love with him too
word count; estimated reading time » 1032; ~4 mins
warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » quite suggestive at the end, indeed...a suggestive sentence at the very end, san lifts the reader up, reader wears glasses, reader implied to be smaller than san, san restrains reader's hands, pet names (bubs, baby girl)
navi/masterlist!! 🤍 ateez masterlist 🤍 the boyz lee juyeon ver.
my ateez debut! here it is @jaehunnyy !! i really wanted to post smth for your bday so please take this as a late bday present 😭 thanks for proofreading a bit of this one and finding the pictures for the banners 🥰 you saved me a bunch of tears fr 😀 have fun with the second one (even though it's the same...😭)
It’s not an unusual occurrence for you to be staying up late at night and for San to find you draped over your books and worksheets when he gets home. In fact, it’s becoming such a usual occurrence that San is making it a habit to open the front door with such gentleness that the click of the door opening would be too loud for his liking. In reality, your study desk at your shared apartment is quite a distance from the entrance of the apartment, so if San wanted to, he could enter in the same way as if you were awake.
But he didn’t want to.
In the rare case that you decide to snooze off on the couch, he doesn’t want to be the one to ruin your precious, peaceful sleeping time. Unfortunately for him, he would still be needing to do it one way or another if he ever finds you asleep on the couch or anywhere but your shared bed. The victorious smile from closing the front door quietly soon turns upside down, frowning at the sight of your head lying on your stack of handouts in the study room. The stack acted as your pillow, your arms around the rectangular pile. You look like you have been resting your body for some time now, given that San’s soft head pat didn’t faze you at all. With a slightly heavy sigh, San makes his way to the other side of the desk to get a better look at your face. He kneels on the floor, content with being more at eye level with you.
He’s surprised to see that you must’ve been so exhausted that taking your glasses off might have been too much effort for you. The side frame completely rests on the paper, the nose pad of the glasses no longer resting properly on your nose. San hisses at how the hard plastic pushes against your nose, already imagining the pain when you wake up and realise tomorrow.
“Bubs,” he tests your consciousness with a whisper. “Your whole body is going to hurt when you wake up, you know?” Your breathing is still as even as before, and the no response from you deepens his frown. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to move you, okay?”
San rises to his feet once again, grabbing the blanket drapped on your study desk that he has prepared. He’s told you multiple times to at least cover your body if you don’t plan to take a nap on the bed, but he should have known that when tiredness kicks in, all a person wants to do is to close their eyes. San spreads the light cotton across your back, kissing the side of your head and humming sweet melodies to avoid surprising you too much with his movement.
“San?” You slur sleepily, still unable to fully wake up. San clicks your desk light off and soon sees your content smile at his little gesture. “When did you get home?”
“Just a few seconds ago. When did you fall asleep?”
“Just a few minutes ago.” A raised eyebrow from your boyfriend is what prompts you to tell him the truth. “A little longer than that.”
San tuts disapprovingly, “You can’t keep slouching off on the table. It’s not good for your body. And this,” he takes your glasses off by the hinges, “it’s not comfortable for you.”
You hum at his loving lecture for you, beginning to straighten your back from the long nap. Truthfully, if San weren’t beside you right now, you would be sending complaints to your past self for dozing off at the table, your back cramping and sore. But Choi San knows you too well, and the creases between your eyebrows tell him everything.
“See?” He reprimands.
You’re not given another chance to rebut when he swivels the chair around for you to face him. In a second, you’re in his arms, the back of your knee and back supported securely with his arms, and your shoulder pressed against his chest. San looks down at you, pressing a quick kiss on your forehead that you respond to by pressing yours along his jawline. Along the short walk to the adjacent room, you plant kisses all over his face, giggling at the way his cheeks grow red with every second.
Just a few seconds before San would rest you gently on the mattress, you steal a kiss from his plump lips, arms wrapped around his nape and threading your fingers into the strands of his hair. San almost stumbles but soon regains balance when he registers the way you delicately take his lips. Along with the giggles and fabric rustling against each other in the small room, it’s not long until your head properly lays on a pillow. San doesn’t let you breathe after, climbing on top of your figure with his palms beside your head to support himself. His knees sink to the mattress beside your thighs, and you’re left breathless with the man before you. The remnants of his cologne are clearer now, and the proximity leaves you curling up a side of your lips.
Your boyfriend knows the meaning of your expression well from experience. “Don’t rile me up, baby girl…”
Just like he did a second ago, your eyebrow rises. Your pointer traces along the center of his exposed neck, feeling the gulp and his intense stare on you. You glide across his skin, tracing along his collarbones slowly, making sure that your touch lingers on his skin. When your finger slides down to the neckline of his fabric, it curls around his shirt to pull his tense expression closer to you. A quick touch of your lips is all you spare him before regaining eye contact with him.
“And if I do?”
Those words are enough for San to lose control, pulling the sheets to his palms as he fists them tightly. One hand leaves the bed, restraining both your wrists under his hold above your head. He dives closer to the crook of your neck, ragged breathing and warm breath against your skin.
“I’ll make sure you’ll sleep peacefully for days.”
navi/masterlist!! 🤍 ateez masterlist 🤍 the boyz lee juyeon ver.
P: Felix x gender neutral reader | G: timestamp, fluff | Inc: established relationship, writer!reader, brunch date | Wc: 407 | W: food cw | R: G
Min's notes: No it wasn't intentional to write Felix the same way I write Rafayel, but eh, they're both loverboys, so it works
It's been almost an hour since Felix has gotten ready to head out, eager to catch brunch with y/n after their equally stressful mornings. Stressful weeks, even, the way he can recall just how much he's been bouncing between meetings, practice and schedules while y/n's hardly left their desk, a commission deadline looming over their head. Which is exactly why this brunch date was scheduled in the first place, to give them both a break.
So where is his overworked partner?
“Honey, you've been in here since dawn,” he sighs wistfully, hanging against the doorframe to y/n's office, where they sit at the desk, fingers flying along the mechanical keyboard. It's usually a pleasing sound, when it's not hindering the brunch date Felix is highly eager to get started. “We agreed on a brunch date, remember? C'mon, you need a break, you've been at this for hours.”
And y/n, lovely y/n, finishes typing the end of their sentence, finally spinning around in their chair to face him. They almost look relieved to see him standing there, and Felix tempers the butterflies in his stomach, the sheer amount of love directed his way threatening to make his heart burst. He can't help it, not when there's an endless amount of love in his heart that has nowhere else to go but out, and y/n is just so...
God, they're just so lovable.
“Isn't the deadline for this the end of the week?” He asks, pushing himself off the doorframe, crossing the short distance and pulling y/n up off the chair and into his arms.
“It is, yeah,” they admit, “but I'd rather get as much down while I can than leave it to chance. You know how hard it gets.”
He does. Felix gets it—his own late nights spent in the practice room, going over choreography again, and again, and again until he perfects it, until it's right and his chest heaves as proof of his efforts—so he doesn't put it against, y/n, merely happy that they've saved their work and shut down their computer so they can get ready.
“This is that same brunch place we went to last weekend, right? With the homemade jam?” They ask in between shrugging a jacket on.
God, he just can't help it anymore.
“Mhm,” he hums, steals a kiss and grins. “So let's go, I'm gonna start getting hungry.”
❧ word count: 12.2k
❧ warnings: cursing, they go kinda skinny dipping at one point (wearing underwear)
❧ genre: fluff, a little suggestive, modern magical creatures/fantasy au, college au if you squint, summer camp au, dryad jaemin, human reader, camp counselors jaemin & reader, same universe as strawberry sunday
❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!)
❧ author’s note: ah it feels so good to be returning to the strawberry sunday universe after so long! everyone blame thank lottie for not letting me forget abt dryad jaemin. i wasn’t sure abt posting a summer camp fic in february but it seems like the people wanted it, so i hope it warms y’all up (unless it’s actually summer for you rn, then i’m right on time 😎)
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!
You learned three things about Na Jaemin on your first day:
One, he was a clumsy dryad—somehow, someway, those existed, and you were now stuck as lead co-counselors with one for the next month.
Two, he went to your college as well, Magical Ecology major, and worked at Camp Pineleaf every summer between spring and fall semesters.
And three, he was a dangerously smooth, sweet-talking, flirt. You’d have to be careful around him, for your own sake.
WEEK ONE
It was way too fucking hot out. From the rough directions you were given by the camp director, you were pretty sure this path led out to the river. Fuck it, you might wade out a little while you were here in order to not overheat and die. No fucking way you were going to haunt this place forever in the event you became ghost.
Despite your pessimistic thoughts as you trudged along the forest trail, you were actually very excited. Today was the first day of your month-long stint as a counselor at Camp Pineleaf. You were an education major at the university in the city, and had been recommended to the gig by one of your professors. One interview with the camp director later, and you’d been hired on the spot. You were part of the set-up crew, responsible for getting to camp early to get the camp set up and welcome the kids when they arrived. The other half of the staff were riding over from the drop-off point with the campers. So here you were, walking the perimeter to make sure all of the off-season markers had been taken down.
The camp was a small part of a nature preserve, and the rangers designated the different areas to visitors by colored markers on trails and trees. When the camp was closed in the off-season, the river that it bordered was open to visitors, so the flag markers on that border would be blue. But now that the camp was open, the blue ones should’ve all been replaced with bright orange flags. You just had to keep an eye out for any remaining blue flags, or for anything else that could be awry.
You knew you were getting closer to the river when you could hear running water, and the air around you started feeling less heavy and a lot fresher. The trail under your feet turned sandy as you finally emerged from the trees onto a shoreline by the river.
You immediately froze, though, not expecting to see somebody else at the riverside. It was a man pulling himself up out of the river onto a rocky formation. He was shirtless, his biceps, shoulders, and all other sorts of muscles flexing along with his motions. His eyes were closed as he shook his wet hair out, then pushed the damp locks back from his face with both of his hands. The sunlight made him look like he was glowing, every drop of water that ran down his body sparkling like a jewel, and you couldn’t make yourself look away.
He looked like he’d been sculpted by the gods. Which you supposed he had, or one in particular at least, you realized, as his eyes opened and settled on you as if he’d known you were there the whole time. They were the color of ferns, but shifted to a lighter mossy green under the dappling of the sunlight. Dryad. Son of Pan. Or so the legends go.
“Hi?” Despite his voice pitching up to make the greeting sound like a question, the wide, cocky smile on his face told you that he definitely knew that you’d been stood there ogling him for an embarrassing amount of time.
“Sorry!” You cringed at the sound of your own voice. “I didn’t realize there was anybody out here.”
The dryad started picking his way down the rocks towards you carefully, grabbing something off one of them as he went. A neon yellow shirt. When he finally dropped onto the ground a few feet in front of you, he gave the shirt a twist to wring out a few drops of water.
“I’m Jaemin,” he said, gripping the shirt even tighter and giving it another twist for good measure. You pretended like you didn’t notice the veins in his hands or the way his forearms tautened with the motion. He shook out the shirt to show you the logo on the front of it, a smiling evergreen tree that matched yours. “I’m also a counselor at Camp Pineleaf this year. We must’ve gone to different training sessions, huh? Anyway, I was walking the perimeter before the kids got here and I kind of—”
Jaemin stopped, a sheepish sort of look coming to his face as he ducked his head almost in embarrassment.
You looked around in confusion. “You what?”
“I fell in the river.”
“You fell in?” You stared at him. You couldn’t tell if he was messing with you or not. What kind of dryad—
“I know, what kind of dryad is falling in rivers?” He pulled the shirt on over his head, which you could now see he had cut the sleeves off of. “Aren’t we supposed to be connected to nature and all that? I still don’t know how it happened, one second I was just climbing the rocks and surveying the river, next thing I knew, I was in the river. Then you showed up.”
Clumsy dryad. That was a new one.
“I’m Y/N.” Introducing yourself was only fair since he’d already given you his name. “Seems like we’re head counselors of the Swallowtails this year, Jaemin.”
It was then that he seemed to notice the matching colors of your shirts, and his features lit up in recognition. “Hey, looks like it!”
You checked your watch. “We should be getting back, the kids are going to be arriving soon.”
“Right!”
“Besides, if I have to stay out here any longer, I’m going to pass out from heat exhaustion.” You groaned, pulling the front of your shirt off from where it had stuck to your skin, using it to fan yourself. “And there’s no way I’m dying out here and risking getting my ghost stuck in the middle of nowhere for forever instead of somewhere cool.”
Jaemin suddenly had a look of alarm on his face, and you looked around with an eyebrow raised.
“What? Something I said?”
“No, sorry, thought I heard something,” he shook his head. “It was just a vole. Lead the way.”
You hadn’t heard anything other than the usual forest sounds, but chalked it up to superior magic hearing, and started back on the trail to the main camp.
“So, why did you come out here, Y/N?”
“Same as you, walking the perimeter.”
“And… I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude, but what are you?”
You looked at him curiously. “Can’t you tell? I’m a human.”
He blinked as if shaken from a trance. Then he offered you another heart-stopping smile. “Right, of course. Sorry about that. Must’ve hit my head when I fell in the river.”
“Must’ve…”
You learned three things about Na Jaemin on that first day:
One, he was a clumsy dryad—somehow, someway, those existed, and you were now stuck as lead co-counselors with one for the next month.
Two, he went to your college as well, Magical Ecology major, and worked at Camp Pineleaf every summer between spring and fall semesters.
And three, he was a dangerously smooth, sweet-talking, flirt. You’d have to be careful around him, for your own sake.
That third one you didn’t come to understand until the after-bed bonfire that all the lead counselors were holding on the shore of the river. With all of the campers tucked in and being watched over by your high schooler junior counselors, the grown-ups were doing their own first day celebrations and icebreakers, which included one or two bottles being passed around as you got to know each other. A lot of the staff had been there for previous summers like Jaemin, but there were a few newbies like you.
It had been someone’s bright idea—Yeeun, a fairy, one of the lead counselors of the Bluejays—to do Truth or Dare to loosen everybody up, instead of like, just some more campfire songs or something. The guitar was forgotten by Jaemin’s feet in favor of this game, and you had survived your first couple rounds just on Truth—it wasn’t really your prerogative to embarrass yourself in front of your new coworkers on your first day.
It had just been Chanyeol’s turn (the Assistant Director, mind you, was even participating), and the werewolf let out a long, low burp as he held the bottle out for somebody to take. His truth had to been to admit why some counselor from last year had gotten fired—it apparently was the hottest piece of camp gossip last summer that nobody could figure out until now (it turns out the guy was drinking on the job, which you didn’t miss the irony in right now).
Jaemin took the bottle from him happily, tipping back his head to take a sip.
“You only have to drink if you don’t do your turn, Jaemin. Remember?” You nudged him with your left knee. He was not going to be a very helpful co-counselor tomorrow if he was hungover and miserable.
“I know,” he grinned.
“Alright, Jaemin, Tr—”
“Dare!” He declared, cutting off Chanyeol as the werewolf went to ask him the routine question.
Your coworkers all rubbed their chins thoughtfully. Yeri suddenly let out a dramatic gasp, as if she’d just been struck by the best idea ever.
“I dare you to pass the bottle to the prettiest girl in the circle,” she declared smugly.
“That’s it?” Jaemin arched a brow.
“She’s so wasted,” Sooyoung scoffed under her breath, but nonetheless, the siren brushed some stray hair and rose petals out of the dryad's face as she teetered in place.
“What? You want something more racy?” Chanyeol snickered. “Unfortunately, I am still kind of your boss, and while I will sanction this, I draw the line at daring anybody to do anything sexually promiscuous, alright?”
“I don’t mean like that, necessarily,” the dryad shrugged. “But it’s a bit tame, doesn’t tell you much. Why not the person that I want to kiss the most? Or, that I want to—”
“Jaemin.”
“Alright, alright,” he sighed dramatically, holding up the bottle straight out with one arm and drawing back his other to aim it around the circle like a bow and arrow.
“You better not hand me that nasty fucking thing, Na Jaemin,” Yeeun practically growled, crossing her arms over her chest.
“In your wildest dreams,” he scoffed, jutting his arm to the right at last. You turned your head that way, trying to figure out who he was handing it to. You were at the end of this log bench, and the next person in that direction was Eunseok, a gryphon and newbie like you.
“Y/N,” Jaemin pushed the bottle against your knee.
You took it and whispered, “Right, and who am I handing this to?”
“Nobody, gorgeous,” he whispered back, shooting you a wink.
Your hands were suddenly sweaty where they were wrapped around the neck of the bottle, and you could feel everybody’s eyes on you. With your gaze fixated on your lap, you coughed out a, “Oh, okay.”
“Alright, Y/N!” Chanyeol announced dramatically over the titters that had erupted around the fire. “Truth or dare?”
You took a swig of the drink to steel your nerves, trying not to think about how Jaemin’s mouth had just been on the same bottle—and everybody else’s, but that didn’t really matter to you as much in the moment. “Truth.”
Jaemin leaned in towards you, and you were suddenly wrapped in the contrasting smells of pine and roses as he dropped his voice, his mouth hovering right by your ear. “Are you—”
The sound of footsteps running up towards the campfire distracted you from whatever Jaemin was about to ask, and you whipped around to see Ningning, your junior counselor, heading right for you.
“Y/N!” She skidded to a stop on the other side of your log, clearly out of breath from the run down from the cabins to the riverbank.
“Ningning, is everything alright?” You asked the breathless witch.
“They’re crying and asking for their parents. I tried to—I can’t calm them down. I’m sorry, can you please—”
“Yeah, of course.” You put the bottle down in the sand, standing up and gesturing for the girl to lead the way back.
“You look exhausted,” Jaemin declared, setting a cup of coffee down in front of you at the dining hall the next morning.
“I am,” you sighed, rubbing the back of the little witch girl who had finally cried herself to sleep an hour before wake-up this morning. She was still passed out on your lap, and you wished you could be that dead to the world too. “Finally got this one asleep about an hour before wake-up.”
“Oof, an all-nighter,” he nodded sympathetically. “Wanted Mommy and Daddy?”
“First time outside her coven.” You took a sip of the coffee, delighted to find that he had somehow already made it to your exact preferences. “Two creams and three sugars…? How did you know?”
The dryad shrugged, “Something sweet for someone sweet, right?”
“How do you know I’m sweet?” You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “I could be the biggest ass— jerk you’ve ever met.” You winced at yourself nearly forgetting the child in your lap.
“Something tells me you’re not the biggest assjerk I’ve ever met,” he snickered quietly. “You’re up against stiff competition in that department, anyway.”
“What sort of people have you met, Jaemin?”
“Curious about me, beautiful?”
“I think I’m allowed some natural curiosity about my co-lead counselor, yes.”
“Ouch, I’ve been co-lead counselor-zoned.”
“What other sort of zone were you hoping to be in?” You snorted, taking another long sip of your coffee, not expecting an actual answer to that.
“I think you have a pretty good idea, gorgeous,” he grinned. “Anyway, I’ll fix you a plate for breakfast so you don’t have to disturb your little friend.”
“Wait,” you stopped him as he went to walk away, craning your neck to try to see the buffet line. “What do they have?”
“I think I know what to get you,” he declared confidently.
Jaemin did in fact come back with all of your favorite breakfast foods loaded up on a plate, which only made you even more suspicious as you dug in. All your other campers and junior counselors were sitting at the table with you two, though, so you couldn’t interrogate him about it.
This morning, the Swallowtails were going on a nature walk, and you were more than happy to let Jaemin and his junior counselor, another dryad named Sohee, take the lead on that.
It was cool enough in the morning shade that you didn’t feel the need to throw yourself in the river this time. Ningning stayed in the middle of the group with some of the girls, and you brought up the rear, holding hands with your new best friend, Soongie. The little girl that you had consoled all night had not left your side since, nor said a word, which was honestly fine by you.
Jaemin had stopped everybody to explain something about the importance of all of nature working together, and how even all of you in this group were part of nature too—a fine message, by all means—but a little chittering in the treetops above you caught your attention, and you looked up to see some kind of light reddish-brown critter running across tree branches. Another ran after it, and you were pretty sure those weren’t squirrels, but you swear you hadn’t ever seen anything like it.
“In addition to those birds we had seen earlier, you’ll also see a lot of animals like squirrels and frogs up in the trees too.” Jaemin had apparently gone back to lecturing about the wildlife again while you were distracted. “There’s actually something special about this park, does anybody know what it is?”
Sohee raised his hand, which made you and the kids giggle as Jaemin looked at him disapprovingly.
“Not you, Sohee.” Your co-counselor shook his head. “Anybody else?”
Everybody looked around at each other, shaking their heads and giving various ‘no’s in response.
“There is actually a species of chipmunk that can only be found in this park. It likes the area around the river the most, and you’ll know you’ve seen it because it has reddish fur, and white front paws.”
You tilted your head back up at the trees, squinting your eyes as the creatures ran back out again, then paused overhead. And you swore you saw white paws.
As the kids all started crowding around you and clambering to try to get a good look at the animals, while you were looking dead at the older dryad, wondering how he knew exactly what you were looking at. He easily met your gaze, tilting his head and smiling.
After lunch, your team was in the arts and crafts cabin. There were multiple stations of different crafts set up, and you were helping Soongie with the friendship bracelets and necklaces. You hummed to yourself as you carefully selected your beads, arranging and rearranging them on table in front of you.
Soongie tugged on your sleeve, and you looked at her attentively. She held her nearly finished bracelet up, tapping the two ends together indicatively.
“Do you need it tied together?” You questioned.
She nodded.
You gingerly took the bracelet from her, tying it up and handing it back. “There you go, Soongie.”
The little witch grabbed your arm, and you let her pull the bracelet onto your wrist with only minor difficulties. She patted your hand, seeming satisfied with herself.
“Oh, is it for me?” You asked, wanting to clarify in case she only wanted you to model it or test the size for an adult back home.
She nodded again, turning back to start picking out more beads.
“Thank you,” you beamed, patting her head appreciatively.
“Miss Y/N, can you help me tie this please?” Another camper requested from further down the table.
“Of course.” You set your materials down, standing up to walk around to where he was sitting. “Here, I’ll do it with you so you can practice.”
Guiding his hands through tying the knot on his elastic string, the two of you finally got it. You gave it one last tug to make sure it was secure, then he put his bracelet on.
“Thank you!” He chirped, jumping up from his seat. “I’m gonna show Mister Jaemin!”
He darted off across the cabin to the craft table that your co-counselor was at, and you took the opportunity to walk around your table and check on the campers while you were already up. Continuing to hum quietly to yourself, you whipped around with alarm when you heard Jaemin start singing. Not just because he was singing, his voice was perfectly pleasant, a lovely tenor, actually. But because he was singing the same song that you had been humming, joining in exactly where you were. You were not loud enough for anybody at even the next table over to have heard you, much less him on the other side of the noisy cabin. Dryads didn’t have exceptionally acute hearing like some other creatures such as vampires, they were only attuned to the sounds of nature, e.g., the vole he had apparently heard by the river yesterday.
Jaemin was showing the camper you had just assisted the accompanying dance to the song. It was a song that you had learned when you were a kid at your own summer camp, which was why it had come to your mind now. A few other campers abandoned their crafts to join Jaemin in learning the dance, immensely focused.
The dryad’s eyes shifted from monitoring their footwork to you. He stopped singing to call out to you, “Do you know this one, Y/N?”
You swallowed to wet your parched throat before answering. “Y-Yeah, I learned it at camp when I was a kid.”
“Remember the dance?” He asked with a grin.
“I mean, I don’t know, it’s been so long…” As you hesitated, a chorus of insistent cries erupted around you from the campers, begging you to join in. “Okay, okay, I’ll see what I can remember.”
You walked over to the open space that Jaemin and the kids had gathered in, followed by cheers.
“From the top?” Jaemin suggested, a twinkle in his green eyes.
The next day, Jaemin sidled up to you in the buffet line at dinner. “Hey.”
“Hey.” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, helping Soongie on your other side, who couldn’t quite reach some of the food options.
“I’d skip the gravy surprise if I were you.”
“I was about to tell you that,” you quipped back, depositing a heaping serving of smiley fries onto Soongie’s tray, then yours. “It looks alive and artificial at the same time somehow.”
“A modern miracle, truly.”
The both of you snickered as the line moved up. Jaemin loaded up his own helping of fries. Soongie pointed enthusiastically at the honeydew melon, and you scooped that out for her too.
“I wanted to ask…” Jaemin leaned in to murmur by your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You didn’t flinch away though, intrigued by whatever he felt the need to whisper to you in the loud mess hall. He continued in his low voice, “Will you meet me tonight? Thirty minutes after lights out?”
You inhaled, which was a mistake as you sucked down the smell of pine and roses, and the line scooted up while you were still frozen. Quickly, you nodded and choked out a quiet ‘okay’ before catching up with Soongie. Jaemin smoothly followed after you, engaging one of the counselors across the buffet from you in light-hearted conversation.
After lights-out, you laid awake, staring up at the ceiling of the cabin, listening to the hushed whispers of the girls fade into soft breathing and the occasional snore. You checked the time on your watch every two minutes, and it was only when you had five minutes left until your promised time to meet Jaemin that you realized he hadn’t told you where to meet him, and you’d been far too flustered to ask. You didn’t want to cluelessly wander the campground after dark, not only for fear of being caught by administration, but also because you didn’t know what was out at night. You were here because you were an education major, not because you were exactly a hardcore nature enthusiast.
Finally, with just a minute to go, you peeled your covers off as silently as possible, slipping your hiking boots back on. Lord knows what Jaemin had in mind. Your bed was by the entrance anyway as a safety precaution, so it was easy to get to the front door and slip out. You took your phone and the cabin pass with you from next to the door, just in case. Your phone, so that people could still get in contact with you, and the cabin pass so if Ningning woke up in the middle night and saw you were gone, she would think you were using the bathroom or something.
Outside your cabin, you didn’t immediately see Jaemin. You decided that if you didn’t find him in five minutes, you’d head back. Whatever this was, was not worth losing your job, or your girls’ safety, or yours, for that matter. You’d hardly turned away from the girls’ cabins towards the center of camp when you saw him strolling down the walkways from the direction of the boys’ cabins. Speak of the dryad.
Halting your search, you waited for him to approach you instead. He was wearing what looked to be his pajamas as well, sweatpants and a tank top, and his slides smacked against his heels with every step.
Jaemin stopped in front of you, not bothering to hide that he was eyeing you from head to toe. He had that same easy-going smile as always as he assessed, “Hiking boots and pjs. Cute.”
You suddenly felt too exposed in your sleep shorts. “Oh, shut it.”
“I meant it. You’re cute.” He was leaning down to peer at your shirt closely now. “It’s dark, I can’t see—Who’s on your shirt?”
“My eyes are up here, you know,” you jested, crossing your arms.
“Ooh, a bit hypocritical, hm?”
“I was startled—”
“Yeah, when I’m startled, I also make a cartoon ‘awooga’ sound—”
“Oh shut—!” You smacked his arm, not intending for the sound to echo so loudly in the quiet area. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you rushed to cover your mouth with two hands, hushing your gasp.
Jaemin, meanwhile, was grabbing the area you’d hit while he keeled over, his whole body shaking with silent laughter.
When administration hadn’t come swooping in after a few beats, you shook your head at the still-laughing figure of Na Jaemin. Pivoting around on your heel, you had the full intention of heading back to your cabin. Just a step away, and his hand shot out to grab yours. It was a light grip, you could shake him off and leave if you wanted, but you stopped anyway.
Still with your back turned, you waited for him to catch his breath and say something.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, still with a hint of a smirk in his voice. “Can I still show you something?”
Unfortunately, your interest was piqued. You turned around, narrowing your eyes at him—he was smirking. “Show me what?”
Whatever Jaemin wanted to show you, it was deep in the forest, on a trail that was closed off from camp. Now you were glad that you’d worn your hiking boots, despite his earlier teases. The trail clearly hadn’t been used in a few years, overgrown with plants so it only fit one person across. You kept your eyes on your feet, you didn’t want to risk tripping and injuring yourself and having to make up some story about how you sprained your ankle using the bathroom in the middle of the night. Embarrassing.
“Are you going to kill me?” You asked plainly.
Jaemin looked at you over his shoulder, teasing glint in his eye. “I’m a dryad, not a siren, Y/N.”
“We’re also not by water, so I didn’t think you were going to drown me,” you snorted.
“We’re almost there,” he said simply. “I think.”
“Do you know where we’re going?”
“Of course I do, I’m a dryad—”
“Thank you for reminding me, I almost forgot in the last twenty seconds.”
“—therefore, I have an intuitive connection to nature, okay? So I know it’s going to be right through these trees.”
You gave him a doubtful look, but stayed silent. He gestured ahead, and you watched as leaves and branches seemingly parted on their own, welcoming you through. You followed Jaemin under the passage that he’d made, the foliage closing up again behind you. You’d entered into a clearing illuminated by nothing but the stars. It was a new moon, but you found that you didn’t really need its light, as the stars shone brilliantly on a night this clear. The clearing was carpeted with soft clover and patches of wildflowers of all shapes and sizes.
“This used to be the archery range, when I was a camper,” Jaemin explained. “They moved it as the camp got bigger.”
“You came here when you were a kid?”
“Yep.” He picked a spot and sat down. “Chanyeol used to be junior counselor of my cabin.”
You smiled faintly as you sat in front of him. “Really?”
“Mhm.” He started picking clovers from the bottom of the stem, close to the ground. “You ever made a clover crown?”
“No.”
“I’ll show you how.”
As he walked you through the steps of weaving together a clover crown, you tried your best to follow along, but yours still ended up a weedy mess, falling apart in your hands. You sighed, letting the greenery drop through your fingers and back to the dirt.
“Here, use mine,” Jaemin offered patiently. “Sometimes starting is the hardest part.”
“No, Jaemin, it’s so pretty, I don’t want to mess it up,” you insisted.
“I’ve probably made thousands of clover crowns,” he reassured you, moving around to lower his hands over yours. “It’s fine. Go ahead.”
You let out a deep breath, taking the partially-woven clovers from him. Jaemin stayed there just to guide you through the first few uncertain crossings of stems, then he sat down again next to you, gathering more materials to start another crown.
Keeping your eyes trained on your shaky fingers, you said, “I don’t get you, Na Jaemin.”
“Well you hardly know me,” he pointed out humorously. “But I feel like I’ve been straightforward with you. Is there anything specific you think is so mysterious about me?”
“That’s the problem.” You bit your cheek and paused as you focused on the clover crown for a second. Then, you continued, “You’re so upfront I feel like you’re hiding something. Like I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“What? Because I’m being honest, that must mean I’m dishonest?”
“Yes, because people don’t just act like this, Jaemin!”
“Like what? Like they’re actually interested in somebody they want to know better?” He asked incredulously, eyes wide. “This can’t just be a human thing—Are you like, okay, Y/N?”
You felt tears welling up at the corner of your eyes, and once again dropped the clover crown to wipe at them. “Fuck—I guess not. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m sorry too. We’re barely more than strangers, I let myself get caught up and I was pushy. I’ll take you back.”
The dryad stood up and offered you two hands to get up. Hanging from one of his elbows, you saw a completed clover crown. Curious, you pointed to it. “Can I see…?”
Jaemin obliged, shaking it from his elbow to his hand and offering it out to you. Still sitting in the same spot, you turned the crown around, admiring his delicate handiwork. It was more intricate than the version he had been showing you how to make, wildflowers woven together to make hearts or stars and then integrated into the design, and he’d finished it so quickly too.
You held the crown out for him to take back. “I still haven’t made a clover crown… If you want to stay.”
He brightened up. “Third time’s the charm.”
When your alarm woke you up in the morning, you were at least more well-rested than the first night, but not by much. Groaning and sitting up, you rubbed your eyes before opening them, eyes blearily trained on the floor. The first thing you saw was your hiking boots, your completed clover crown resting atop them. It ended up taking four tries for you to finally finish one, and it was messy and at risk of falling apart any second, but you were proud of it nevertheless. A fond smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you remembered when you had finally closed it off per Jaemin’s instructions, and smacked his arm with excitement, too afraid of even breathing. Instead of being offended at you hitting him again, he was as elated as you, somehow finding a million things to compliment about your ugly little clover crown.
WEEK 2
After your cabin’s wake-up routine this morning, you were back in the cafeteria. You didn’t bother looking for Jaemin, feeling pretty confident that the dryad would find you on his own. Sure enough, just a few minutes after you and Soongie had sat down, your co-counselor was standing at the end of your table, gesturing to the empty seat across from you.
“May I?” He asked.
“All yours,” you replied, cutting up Soongie’s pancake for her.
“We’re doing canoeing with the Bluejays this morning,” Jaemin reviewed your itinerary for the day.
A small hand grabbed your arm, and you looked over to see your little witch practically vibrating in her seat.
“Soongie’s excited,” you chuckled. “And then it’s free swim until lunch.”
“Uh-huh,” he hummed, finger following the schedule on his clipboard. “Then it’s us and the Barn Owls for free time until two-thirty. Then we’re going to archery also with the Barn Owls and the Tree Frogs, and tie dye before dinner. Oh, and a campfire after dinner tonight.”
“Will—”
“There will be s’mores at the campfire,” he said knowingly.
You smiled. “Took the words right out of my mouth.”
“You know, Soongie, you could help a little bit, sweet,” you chastised the girl fondly, being the only one actually paddling between the two of you.
The camper was sat ahead of you in your canoe, her paddle long forgotten on the floor as she looked around her in delighted wonder. You were far too endeared by her to really be upset, which she obviously knew, as she did nothing to assist. There was a small splish on the surface of the water to the left of the canoe, and Soongie gasped, immediately scooting to that side of her seat.
“Woah!” You grabbed the sides as the small canoe rocked with the shift in weight. “Careful, Soongie. I know you’re not very big, but remember what Miss Yujin said, we don’t want to—”
As you were talking, the little witch had been leaning further and further over the side of the canoe to try to get a better look at whatever had caught her attention before. Right as you had grabbed the back of her life jacket with the intention of scooting her back into the middle of her seat yourself, the canoe flipped entirely, sending the both of you into the water. You two popped up immediately thanks to your life jackets, underneath the shell of the overturned canoe.
Turning the girl around in your arms, you checked on her, “Are you okay, Soongie?”
She regarded you with wide, terrified eyes as she nodded hurriedly.
“Good, good. I’m not mad, sweet,” you reassured her, hugging her close. “It’s okay, now we know not to do that next time, right?”
She nodded again, slower this time.
Pulling away, you asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t get hit by the canoe or anything?”
Another nod, more certain.
“Good, alright.” You let out a deep breath, looking around at the canoe over your heads. “Now, I need you to—”
A loud knocking on the outside of the canoe cut you off, and you let out a scream in surprise. The next second, a third person had joined you two under the canoe, surfacing behind you.
“Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, wiping water out of his eyes.
“Other than the heart attack you just gave me and the canoe on top of us?” You scoffed. “Yeah, peachy, Jaemin.”
“You weren’t coming up, I was getting worried,” he frowned.
“We’re okay,” you said more sincerely this time. “Promise.”
“Okay, good.” He then pointed to his right. “You and Soongie go out and swim over there. I’ll flip the canoe back over the other way for you. Swim a good distance away, just in case.”
“Alright, thanks, Jaemin,” you smiled, patting his cheek fondly. Turning back to Soongie, you said, “I need you to close your eyes and hold your breath while we go underwater so we can get out. Can you do that for me, sweet?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, breathed in deep, and plugged her nose.
“I knew you could. Let’s go.” You grabbed her by the head, pushing her under at the same time you went down too. You kept your hand on top of her head both to keep her down against the buoyancy of her life vest and to act as a bumper in case she accidentally bonked the canoe on her way out.
Once you had surfaced, you pulled her with you as you paddled away from the canoe a fair distance. Scattered in the water around you were the oars and your shoes. You knew your sunglasses were long gone, lost to the bottom of the lake. A few seconds later, you saw one of Jaemin’s hands wrap around the edge of the canoe, then he slowly lifted the side facing you, breaking the seal with the water, before he heaved the canoe to his left, successfully flipping it rightside up. You heard distant cheers and applause from the dock, and looked over to see other campers standing there, bundled up in their own little life vests.
Swimming back over to Jaemin and the canoe with Soongie, you two also gave him a small round of applause above the surface of the water.
“Our hero,” you jested.
He grinned, holding onto the end of the canoe to keep it from floating away. “Well…”
“Y/N in first, that way you can help Soongie get in,” he explained.
“Okay, you wait here with Mister Jaemin for me,” you requested, passing her off to the dryad.
“Can you hold onto my shoulders Soongie?” He moved her around to his back, then made an exaggerated choking sound. “My shoulders, not my neck!”
Soongie giggled and changed the placement of her arms.
“Oh, thank Pan,” he breathed out in relief. “Alright, Y/N, up you go.”
You hauled yourself back into the canoe, then worked with Jaemin to hoist Soongie in as well. Finally, Jaemin pulled himself in too, shaking out his wet hair like a dog.
“Ah!” He sighed, pushing his hair back from his face, annoyingly handsome grin once again landing on you. “Well that was a successful rescue mission, huh?”
“Hate to burst your bubble, Jaemin, but uh, we don’t—”
“Have oars?” He finished your sentence, still grinning.
“Mhm.” You looked down into your empty, soaking wet canoe, then at the distant dock pointedly.
“Not a problem!” A vine shot out of Jaemin’s palm, splitting into two, each end grabbing a wayward oar and pulling them back up into the boat. He offered one out to you to take, and secured the other in his hand.
Soongie giggled and clapped, to which Jaemin bowed. “Ah, thank you, thank you.”
After free swim and free time, everyone had time to head back to their cabins and shower before going to archery. You only had a second to rinse the lake water off of you before changing and corralling your campers to archery.
The new archery range was bigger than the old one that Jaemin had taken you to, able to fit more targets than you were sure the other one could. As the two instructors began teaching the kids, the counselors hung back to make sure everyone was paying attention and served more as support during the lesson. God knew you had no clue how to shoot a bow and arrow.
“You know how to do this?” You murmured to Jaemin as you watched the instructor notch her first arrow.
“May have won a few ribbons back in my days as a camper,” he jokingly bragged. “Want a private lesson?”
You elbowed him lightly and shook your head, even as your heart skipped a beat. The instructor let her arrow fly then, easily hitting the bullseye. You clapped along with the campers, snickering, “I think maybe I should ask her instead.”
Whoever put tie-dye after free time was the bane of your existence, as there was no time for the girls to properly wash up before dinner. If tie-dye had been before free time, then they could’ve done it before showering. You and Ningning had your hands full helping them scrub dye off their hands, and your entire cabin ended up being late to dinner. Stomping into the mess hall with a gaggle of starving girls, you hurried them ahead of you towards the food line, wincing when you saw a few options empty or nearly empty already. Soongie hung back with you as always, joining you last in the line.
You made your two plates, and struggled to find empty seats in the packed mess hall. Thankfully, a hand shot up among the throng, waving you all over. Jaemin stood up so you could see him better, and you called for your girls, who were all looking around rather lost, to follow you over there. The dryad was instructing his campers to scoot around and make room, and finally, with some squeezing, everyone was able to fit. Jaemin let you scoot onto the bench seat ahead of him, and you still had to eat with Soongie on your lap and one of Jaemin’s legs sticking out into the aisle. His other leg was pressed against you, elbow bumping into yours as the two of you ate.
You tried not to glare at some of the other cabins who had made no attempts to accommodate you all, empty seats and plenty of room at their tables, some of the adults even propping up and spreading their legs out on the benches as they ate and chatted with each other.
“Just leave it, Y/N,” Jaemin murmured, nudging you with his arm. “Good example.”
You took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, thanks, Jaem.”
“Hard time washing out the tie dye?”
“Yeah. How’d you guys clean the dye off so fast?”
“Who says we cleaned the dye off?”
That made you look up from your food for the first time, carefully studying the hands and arms of the boy Swallowtail campers around you, seeing that they were in fact, splotched with every color of the rainbow. You burst into laughter, covering your face with your hand. “God—Is that going to come out before pick-up?”
“Yeah, a couple more dips in the lake, it’ll all be gone.”
“Work smarter, not harder, huh?”
Jaemin grinned. “Exactly.”
At the campfire, you helped your younger campers roast their marshmallows for their s’mores safely, while Jaemin and Chanyeol led the entire camp in sing-alongs. In a lull with your campers preoccupied with eating their s’mores, you quickly prepared one and brought it up towards the front. Chanyeol was tuning his guitar while he and Jaemin discussed which song to do next, and you tapped the dryad’s shoulder as you lowered the paper plate into his line of sight.
Jaemin looked up at you beaming, accepting the s’more. “Thanks, beautiful. How’d you know I wanted one?”
“I’m a mind reader,” you replied humorously, mussing up his hair before you headed back towards the Swallowtails’ benches.
“Ask her! Ask her!” Came excited, hushed whispers from behind you as you had just returned to your seat among all your campers.
Turning around, you spotted a gaggle of both girls and boys gathered behind you, and raised your eyebrow at them inquisitively. “Ask me what?”
“Miss Y/N?” One brave girl finally piped up. “Are you and Mister Jaemin boyfriend-girlfriend?”
You covered your mouth to not laugh directly at them, instead tilting your head at them curiously. “Why do you think that?”
“You just made him a s’more!” One said.
“And he rescued you and Soongie today!” Another added.
“And he always calls you beautiful and stuff!” Said another. “That’s what my dad calls my mom.”
“You can tell your friends that they’re beautiful,” you informed them dutifully. “I tell you girls that you’re beautiful, don’t I?”
They all looked at each other, obviously conflicted.
“You should always help somebody in need if you can, like Mister Jaemin did today when Soongie and I were canoeing,” you continued. “And how many s’mores have I made for all of you?”
They began murmuring among themselves at your very good points while you tried very hard to control your face. Technically, you and Jaemin weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend. You were… something. And these children didn’t need to know all the (sparse) details of the nature of your relationship with Jaemin anyway.
Chanyeol had started strumming his guitar again, drawing everyone’s attention as the next song began.
WEEK 3
All outdoor activities had been canceled today because a huge storm had rolled in overnight. Rain pounded against the roof of the meeting center as lighting flashed and thunder boomed outside. The Swallowtails and Tree Frogs were in here for the first block of the day watching movies on a projector. The movie was occupying some of the kids while others quietly played cards in a corner, others napped, and the counselors hung out in the back of the room.
“You okay, Jaem?” You asked the dryad, bumping his shoulder with yours. “You’ve been… off since breakfast this morning.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he reassured you, shifting his gaze from the dark grey skies outside over to you. His eyes were a deep forest green, so murky they almost blended in with his pupils. He tried to offer you a half-smile as he nudged your arm back. “It’s the weather. Dryads are sensitive to it. Mother Nature gets bummed out, so do we.”
You looked over at Sohee, noticing that the younger dryad was also less upbeat than usual, leaning against the wall and zoning out as he listened to the junior counselor from the Tree Frogs go on about something.
“I like the rain,” you tried to offer some positivity. “Good napping weather.”
Jaemin chuckled. “I’ve never been able to sleep well when the weather’s like this, but now that you mention it…”
“Big fuzzy blanket or two, the sound of the rain, oh it’s perfect.”
“Mm, I might be able to get on board with this.”
“I’m just afraid the kids aren’t going to be able to sleep tonight if they can’t get their energy out,” you sighed, already able to picture them bouncing off the walls come lights-out.
“Yeah, we’ll have to make them run laps in the gym after lunch so they’re not bouncing off the walls when it’s lights-out.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
“Speaking of lights-out…” He leaned in closer, resting his hand behind you and letting the smell of pine and roses entirely wrap around you. His lips ghosted against the shell of your ear as he requested, “If the rain lets up by then, will you meet me again? After lights-out?”
You turned your head to whisper back, “To do what?”
“It’s a surprise. Is that a yes?”
You hummed, pretending to think it over. Finally, you answered, “Yes.”
In the middle of dinner, the rain finally stopped, and you pretended not to react, even as the entire cafeteria erupted into cheers. Jaemin tapped your foot under the table with his. You kicked his back as you lifted your smiley fry to your mouth.
After putting your girls to bed, you once again waited thirty minutes before putting your hiking boots on and slipping out of your cabin. Jaemin was exactly where you had found him last time, blinding grin visible even this late at night. He had a couple towels tossed over his shoulder, but was otherwise in the exact same clothes as last time.
“So where are we headed?” You asked, looping your arm with his.
“Somewhere special,” he replied vaguely. “The rain should’ve made it perfect.”
You squinted at him, but didn’t press for more information. As soon as he turned off the main path, you realized he was heading towards the river but taking an unfamiliar route along it. He was heading towards a part that the camp didn’t use in their regular activities. You heard the rushing water before you spotted it, and when you emerged from the treeline, you could see a waterfall. Not huge, but without the extra rainfall from today, this area probably wouldn’t have been more than a trickle.
“Perfect,” Jaemin declared, stopping by a rock further from the water’s edge. This one was dry, safe from the spray of the waterfall. He set the towels down before toeing his shoes off, and you already knew what he was going to do.
“Isn’t it going to be cold?” You asked knowingly, despite taking your boots off too.
“Probably.” He pulled his tank top off before hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants. “You’re behind.”
“You’re pushy,” you teased back, yanking off your socks.
“Undress how you want, my apologies.” He put his palms together and bowed ninety degrees, making you giggle at the juxtaposition of the formal gesture while he was in nothing except his briefs.
Your shorts joined the pile too, but you left your sleep shirt on since you had nothing else on under it. Jaemin was already at the river’s edge, his back to you as he stood in the water up to his ankles.
“Is it cold?” You slowly picked your way closer to the water.
“Would you believe me if I said no?” He answered with a question.
“Try.”
“It’s like a hot tub.”
You clicked your tongue, “Nope, didn’t believe you for a second.”
“Can I look?” He still hadn’t turned around, even as you were just a couple steps behind him.
“No, Jaem, I want you to swim with your eyes closed all night.”
“I’d do it if you asked,” he jested back in a slightly sing-songy voice.
“I know you would.” You hugged your arms as you shook your head fondly. “You can turn around. With your eyes open.”
Jaemin turned around with his eyes squeezed shut first, then squinted them open one at a time, a soft grin spreading across his lips as his gaze didn’t trail anywhere other than your face. He offered his hand out, and you set yours atop it. Slowly, he pulled you towards him, and you braced yourself as you took the first step into the cold water. You let out an instinctive shiver at the chill zipping up through you.
“Hot tub, yeah,” you scoffed.
“It slopes down from here.” Jaemin started wading out in front of you, keeping his loose grip on your hand. You followed him, keeping an eye on how fast the water was rising up his legs to estimate the depth for yourself.
When the water was about waist-deep, you hissed at the temperature, squeezing his hand tighter. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand as he started guiding you towards the waterfall. “Come on.”
In the back of your mind, you wondered if you were going to get sick from this.
“If you catch a cold, I’ll nurse you back to health.”
“If you get sick, I’ll laugh,” you mimicked the way he cooed at you sweetly.
Jaemin stopped the two of you a little ways away from the bottom of the waterfall. He let go of your hand before walking forward, pausing right under where the water was pouring down, thoroughly drenching him. He let out a whoop presumably at the burst of cold. Poking his head out, he wiped the water from his eyes and looked at you expectantly. You sighed but went to join him, grabbing your shoulders tightly and gritting your teeth against the rush of cold water soaking the rest of you. A mix between a yelp and a laugh escaped you instinctively, and you heard Jaemin laughing past the sounds of crashing water. Admittedly, the chill served as a shock to your nervous system, thoroughly waking you up and making every inch of your skin tingle.
You ducked out of the waterfall, under the overhang of rock, wiping water off your face as you giggled. “Ah! Cold! Fucking cold!”
“It’s refreshing, right?” Jaemin asked with a grin.
“Kinda, yeah,” you admitted, putting your shoulders back under the waterfall. You held your arms out. “C’mere.”
He obliged, shuffling closer to you and letting you wrap your arms around his neck. As soon as you felt how warm his skin was, you pulled him even closer.
“You’re warm!” You gasped.
“I’m a dryad, gorgeous,” he hummed, lowering the two of you in the water. His hands landed on your knees, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist and cling onto him even more. “Always the perfect temperature.”
“You’re really proud to be a dryad, hm?” You questioned, not a hint of sarcasm or taunting in your voice this time.
“Of course. I love everything about it, never wanted to be anything else. Sure, other things are more powerful, and plenty of dryads hate being sensitive to the weather, but I love it all.”
“Can you understand animals?” You knew that not all dryads could talk to animals, and those who could, would usually only be able to talk to a certain kind (birds, fish, reptiles, etc.).
“Small to medium land mammals. Anything bigger than a dog is usually a no-go.”
“What about a really big dog? Like a Great Dane? Or a Newfoundland?”
“Haven’t tried. When I do, I’ll let you know.”
“Do you have a favorite animal? Or is that like picking a favorite kid?”
He chuckled, and you could feel it against you. “I like cats.”
“Me too.”
After a beat, he asked, “Can I tell you something?”
“Can I stop you?”
“The first day of camp—”
“—when you fell in the river—”
“—when I fell in the river… I didn’t really fall in.”
You pulled back to be able to look him in the eye, nose scrunching up in confusion. “What? So you just… went swimming in your clothes for fun?”
“Yeah, pretty much. I was walking the perimeter, like I told you, and then suddenly I got this really strong urge to just jump in,” he explained. “One second, I was perfectly fine, enjoying the Sun, and then I thought to myself: ‘It’s too goddamn hot and if I overheat and die there is no way I’m going to let myself end up haunting this place for eternity.’ And the river was right there so I jumped in and cooled off. And then when you showed up, I figured it was better to look clumsy than like… well whatever that was.”
Dread had settled deep in the pit of your stomach, and your jaw dropped with mortification. “Jaemin, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I’m the one who made you jump in the river,” you confessed, pushing on his chest to get him to let you go and stand on your own again.
“What?” He tilted his head, obviously confused and caught between trying to decide if you were joking or serious, half a smile on his lips.
You turned away from him, covering your face in horror as everything suddenly dawned on you at once—way too late, you should’ve fucking known, it was so fucking obvious. “Not on purpose. God—”
Jaemin was surprisingly calm as he asked, “What are you talking about?”
“You know how we’re like… scarily in sync sometimes? Like it’s almost like you can read my thoughts?”
He grinned and chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “So you noticed, too? I mean—”
“It’s not great chemistry or anything. I’m literally accidentally putting my thoughts in your head,” you interrupted him, desperately trying to get across how seriously bad this whole thing was.
The cocky smirk dropped right off his face, and he turned curious and skeptical instead. “Wait, really? How?”
“My great-aunt called it something one time. A savvy,” you snapped your fingers as the word popped into your head. “Said that’s what they used to be called before all this modern-day science took over magic instead.”
“Savvy,” he repeated uncertainly.
“Yeah. Humans that could talk to plants and make them grow faster like dryads, or fly but just a couple inches off the ground, things like that,” you listed off a couple examples. “Her theory was that with integration, people didn’t find their savvies anymore because they were around all this extraordinary magic, there was no reason for their little pockets of it to ever make an appearance.”
“What’s your theory?”
“Kind of similar. I think the people with them might notice it, but we see all this incredible stuff every day, so if your plants are growing extra fast—hey, that was probably just the magical fertilizer you bought at the store, why would it be the fact that you were singing to your succulent? Magic is so ingrained into the fabric of our lives from outside sources, I don’t think we’d ever stop to notice if it ever started coming from inside us.”
“That’s so…”
“Sad? That humans would never stop to think that we had magic in us too?” You chuckled cynically.
Jaemin shook his head, brow furrowed as he obviously both deep in thought and deeply perturbed. “I was going to say, hard to imagine. I can’t imagine what it feels like not having magic in you.”
“You’re made of magic. I’m not.”
“Well that’s not true. You’ve got something. You’ve got a… savvy.” Jaemin smiled and pointed smugly. “It’s what confused me the first time we met.”
“Right.”
“So how did you find out?”
“According to my parents, I didn’t talk until I was almost four. I didn’t need to, they just somehow always knew what I wanted. Used to chalk it up to good body language. But the way that people always finished my thoughts before I did, and didn’t even realize they were doing it. I hated that. It felt like they were in my head.” You clutched your arms self-soothingly at the memories. “Until I got a little older and realized that actually, I was in their heads.”
“Do you know why? Why you?”
“We’re all human, my family, as far back as we can tell. Unless someone had an affair somewhere that we don’t know about but—” You shrugged. “I’m just a human, who can think and feel really hard, and things happen. And because someone said so, that’s magic. But if I lived with a bunch of humans—and not my great-aunt—I probably would’ve gone my whole life just believing that I was really good at conveying my thoughts. Or really shit at hiding them.”
“So you can… what, exactly?”
You knew what he was asking—magic powers all had names. So what was yours?
“I don’t know, project my thoughts? Still don’t have a good name for it,” you admitted with a dejected shrug. “I don’t do it on purpose, it just kind of happens. I can never choose which ones, or who gets them, I’ve just kind of figured that that it tends to happen with ones I’m more focused on. But not always.”
“So it wasn’t great chemistry, huh?” He joked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Ah, sorry, Jaemin,” you said sheepishly, then tacked on, “But I can tell you, I’ve never had someone so… receptive to my thoughts before. Like, no one person has ever gotten so many in such a short amount of time. I don’t know why, or what it means, or if it even means anything. And I do feel the need to apologize, I imagine it’s clearly been… invasive.”
“For one, don’t apologize. You said you’re not doing it on purpose, and I can’t imagine what it must be like for you, always worrying about which of your thoughts someone is going to get, who’s going to get it, and if they’ll know it was you. Don’t also worry about apologizing to me just because I listen a little better than other people. If anything, I should be apologizing to you for eavesdropping.”
“You don’t need to—”
“Now you know how you sounded,” he replied pointedly.
“Damn.”
“Anyway, I think I know exactly why I’m more… receptive.”
You eyed him curiously. “Enlighten me.”
“I’m a dryad,” he reminded you for probably the hundredth time since you met him. “We’re in touch with nature, which includes humans, and their thoughts and feelings.”
“So it’s not our great chemistry?” You trepidly quipped.
“So you agree!” He lit up. “We do have great chemistry! Aside from the magical thought-sharing?”
“I think it’s including that?” You fidgeted with your fingernails. “Because despite everything I just told you, you’re not running away. Even though I literally made you jump in a river the first time we met. Or, before we ever met.”
“I think I’m starting to get better at telling what’s your idea and what’s mine,” he said confidently. “And you’re also not running away, despite the fact that you know that your thoughts are even more available to me than other people.”
You took a deep breath and nodded. “I trust you with them. You’re the first person that I’ve told who’s… really thought of it like that. That you’re listening in, instead of me forcing something into your brain.”
“Thank you. I’m honored.”
“So uhm, while we’re talking about the first day of camp… What were you going to ask me? At Truth or Dare?”
“Still thinking about that, gorgeous?”
“Apparently. Do you remember?”
“‘Are you thinking about kissing me, too?’” He stepped closer to you again. “Though, I think I know the answer now.”
You nodded, eyes glued to where a droplet of water raced from his hair down his forehead, over his browbone, his nose, and finally between his cupid’s bow into his parted lips.
“I know I can literally hear you thinking about what my lips feel like, and exactly where you want my hands on you…” One of said hands had caught the hem of your shirt floating in the water, gently tugging it back and forth. Jaemin leaned in closer, warm breath washing over your cheek as he held eye contact with his request, “But can I also hear you say it out loud? Just once, gorgeous?”
You immediately folded, grabbing his forearms as you pleaded, “Jaem, please. I want you to kiss me, I want you to—”
“I know, beautiful, I know,” he hushed you gently, cupping your cheek and sealing his mouth over yours. His other hand let go of your shirt hem to wrap around your waist and pull you closer. Your fingernails dug into the muscles of his forearm as you pressed against him, chasing more contact in any way possible. He alternated soft bites to your bottom lip and deep kisses that left you dizzy. The cold water didn’t even register anymore as you fell more and more into Na Jaemin.
Jaemin finally drew back, leaving you with a peck on the tip of your nose. He was still looking at you with an absolutely blindingly soft smile, cradling your face with two hands. You grabbed his cheeks, kissing his nose too.
“It’s only fair,” he snickered.
“Exactly what I was thinking,” you replied humorously, pushing your forehead against his.
The sky was a beautiful crystal clear blue the next morning, and you noticed the change in Jaemin’s mood before you even got to the mess hall for breakfast. Your cabins converged on the walkway there, and you spotted Jaemin at the front of his boys, giving one a piggy-back ride as four more chased them around the rest. Sohee was actually leading the gaggle of campers, laughing and joking along with the older dryad. Without you even calling out to him, Jaemin gently dropped his camper back to the ground before turning around and giving your group a big wave.
“Morning, girls!” He grinned.
“Morning, Mister Jaemin!” They said back in a loud chorus.
You just so happened to glance down to make sure you weren’t going to step on one of the kids’ heels when you noticed that Soongie’s sneaker was untied.
“Oh, hold on, sweet. Your shoelace.” You tugged on her hand to take her to the side, out of the crowd. Kneeling down, you dutifully double-knotted it. “There. Let’s go.”
You’d just started walking and brushing the dirt off your knee when your foot got jerked back by your own shoelace which had come untied and was subsequently caught under someone’s foot. Before your face or hands could impact with the concrete, however, something sturdy wrapped around your waist and caught you. You realized it was a thick, leafy vine at the same time that two hands grabbed your arms to stand you back up, and the vine unwound from around you.
“Woah, you alright?” It was Jaemin, of course, already checking your hands and arms over for injuries.
“Yeah, Jaem, I’m fine,” you smiled as he fidgeted with your beaded bracelet from Soongie. “Tied Soongie’s shoe and completely missed the fact that mine was untied too. Thanks for the save.”
He dutifully dropped to one knee to tie your shoe for you, and you wanted to be embarrassed at being treated like a child, but really, all you could think about was pulling him back up when he was done and kissing him.
“Not here, beautiful,” he grinned and winked at you.
You rolled your eyes and pushed his head away from you, but you knew it was all negated by your fond smile and thoughts.
WEEK 4
The Swallowtails were back in the arts and crafts cabin, and you were hard at work at the friendship bracelet station. You may have sucked at making clover crowns, but you weren’t half-bad at this, at least. Searching through the piles of beads, you secured a few more green and brown ones, as well as some in the shape of white daisies to add.
Jaemin was at the bead table too, and you pretended not to be interested in what he was making, even as he had not-very-quietly whispered to one of your girls sitting next to him asking if she knew what your favorite color was. The camper had told him with a giggle, some of the other campers pitching in with their opinions on whatever he was making throughout it. You acted like you hadn’t heard anything, looking up from your own craft only to survey the cabin or when someone called your name asking for help.
You’d just secured the clasp on the necklace you had been working on when a throat was cleared across from you. Looking up, you raised your eyebrows at Jaemin curiously. “Yes…?”
His project had disappeared from in front of him, but one of his hands was behind his back, so you had a suspicion as to where it went. The dryad held his other hand out palm-up on the table between you two. “May I?”
You put out your arm that already had your friendship bracelet from Soongie on it, and he grasped it gently. “Close your eyes?” He requested.
Amused, you did so, feeling when he slipped another bracelet on your wrist. You peeked one eye open, immediately spotting the bracelet that was comprised mostly of beads of your favorite color. You grinned, spinning it around to admire it.
“It’s perfect. Thanks, Jaem,” you said. Picking up the necklace, you declared, “Your turn.”
Standing up, you walked around to stand behind him, fastening the clasp at the back of his neck for him. “There you go.”
It was a shorter necklace, resting right at his collarbones, so he had to use his phone camera to look at it. His fingertips ran over the beads, then he reached back to squeeze your hand that was resting lightly on his shoulder.
“I love it.” He tilted his head back to absolutely beam at you.
At dinner, you weren’t even surprised when Jaemin joined you and Soongie in the line to get your food. You fondly noted that he was still wearing the necklace from earlier.
Leaning in towards him, you breathed in the familiar smells of roses and pine, then murmured, “Will you meet me? After lights-out tonight?”
“I had this weird feeling that you were going to ask me that,” he teased. “Yes.”
“So where are we headed?” Jaemin asked as soon as you found each other that night.
You didn’t hesitate to take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I want to try to make clover crowns again.”
He started tugging you down the walkways. “Let’s do it.”
Taking a deep breath of the fresh air that was all around you, you let out an unintentional sigh after. “I can’t believe we’re going back tomorrow.”
“It always amazes me how fast a month goes here.”
“We’re going to—I’m going to see you again, right? When we get back?”
Jaemin screeched to a stop in the middle of the trail, turning to you with a startlingly severe look on his face. “What kind of question—Of course. We live in the same city, go to the same school. I meant everything I said, Y/N.”
“I-I know, Jaem.” You glanced up at the stars peeking through the treetops. “I guess this whole month sort of felt surreal… I’m worried about what real life will be like for us.”
“It’ll be better,” he said confidently. “Because I can take you on real dates there.”
You chuckled, squeezing his hand. “I don’t know, the waterfall was pretty romantic.”
“I’m glad you think so, beautiful.” He started down the trail again. “Come on, we’re almost there.”
The camp was in a fairly remote location, so everyone loaded up onto buses in the morning to drive back into the city, where the children would then be picked up by their parents. Since you had volunteered for the set-up crew, you weren’t staying for break-down, which meant you were going back with the kids and monitoring pick-up for your campers.
Most of the kids (and counselors) were napping on the bus, thoroughly tuckered out from the month of camp, and having to get up early to eat breakfast before the buses departed. Soongie was curled up on the bench seat with her head in your lap as she slept, and you yawned just looking at her.
“Tired, gorgeous?” Jaemin murmured from his aisle seat next to you. The three of you probably didn’t need to squeeze into one row, but there was no part of you that wanted to tell him to move.
“Mm, a bit,” you admitted, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“Sleep.” He shifted to wrap his arm around you, encouraging you to rest your head in the crook of his neck.
After waking up, pick-up went surprisingly smooth. Most of the campers’ parents were already at the pick-up location, so it was just a matter of checking IDs and sending the families on their way. Soongie excitedly tugged you over to a trio of adults, one of whom looked far too old to be her parent, and another looked far too young—your age at most. They introduced themselves as her covenmates, and one of the witches was in fact her biological father, the one who looked between the other two in age. You chatted with them for a little bit as they confessed to being nervous since this was Soongie’s first time away from the coven. You filled them in on how well she did at camp, downplaying the horrors of the first night to put their minds at ease. Soongie gave you one last big hug before all four of them left with huge smiles on their faces.
Ningning was driving herself and some of the other junior counselors home, and you sent them off with a wave, the witch honking her horn in return. When things around the lot were finally quiet, you saw that all the campers were gone, and the lead counselors were even beginning to disperse as well. Jaemin was already walking up to you, his duffel bag on his shoulder.
“Heading out?” You asked, trying to hide your disappointment.
“In a minute. Now that pick-up’s done…” He grabbed one of your wrists with one hand and tugged your friendship bracelet from Soongie off with the other.
“Hey, that’s—”
“Your bad luck charm.”
You looked between him and the gift in confusion. “What?”
“Soongie didn’t do it on purpose. Witches that little have no control over their powers. I didn’t say something before because I know you wouldn’t have gotten rid of it while you were still around her, and all it’s been doing is minorly inconveniencing you.” He turned the bracelet around in his fingers to look at the plastic beads. “If it was seriously hurting you, I would’ve intervened.”
“Wait, so when I tripped on my shoelace…?”
“And when the canoe flipped, and all the spots at the mess hall being taken, and probably anything else that went wrong this whole month.” He tossed it up in the air and caught it before pocketing it. “Unless you’re usually that unlucky?”
“No, I just figured it was because this was my first year. Learning the ropes and stuff,” you shrugged, still bewildered as suddenly everything was clicking.
“Unintentional sabotage.”
“Well, good thing I had you then, huh?” You joked, nudging him with your elbow. “My guardian dryad.”
He pretended to wipe sweat off his brow. “It was tough work, keeping an extra close eye on you.”
“Aw, and here I thought you were hanging around me so much because of our great chemistry?”
“That too.” Jaemin looped an arm around your shoulders to pull you into him, peppering kisses on your cheek as you giggled and futilely tried to hide your face from him. “Mostly that.”
Warnings/genre: pure fluff, established relationship, making out, the reader overthinks for a while, Shua is the cutest at the end, comfort (?), nicknames (love).
Sana: so this is my remake for this hyunjae fic of mine. Happy Valentine’s Day lovely’s <3 I cannot wait to get back into writing like usual once my exams get over so until then enjoy this small fic <3
Word count: 1,423
Sitting down at the table, you looked around the place, it was a place you would always dream about.
A huge hall with a chandelier in the middle— which was full of diamonds making it shine brightly. You let out a small laugh of content when you notice the ring on your finger.
Never would you have imagined that you would get married to the person you spent nine years of your life with.
You have known Joshua since you were in highschool and up until now. And he had managed to prove himself that he was the one for you countless times.
The day you felt alone and needed comfort, he was there for you with a tub full of ice cream and a night full of cuddles as he listened to you talk about your feelings; how you would sometimes just get the feeling of being alone as if no one was on your side and you were left to fight your battles all alone.
But he was there to prove you wrong. To tell you that even though you felt as if you were alone he would always be there by your side with open arms. No matter what happens, he always got your back.
That was also the time when you were damn sure that he was gonna be the man you would want to get married to. No one else would be able to have your heart like he has.
The day you got into your dream university, he was there to celebrate it with you. Even when you doubted yourself about not being worthy enough he made himself clear that you’re in fact one of the people who truly deserve that spot because of your hard work.
You look around the place once more and you could suddenly feel your heart sinking, what if this was not the right thing to do?
You could feel your hand start to shake. All you wanted to do at that very moment was to get up and just storm out of the place, but you were afraid to do that.
It was Valentine’s Day and Joshua prepared all of this just for you only to see you storm out like that. You did not want to seem ungrateful so you tried to calm yourself down but the more you pondered about your future the more anxious you got.
From the corner of your eyes you noticed Joshua walking back to the table. Taking a deep breath in you tried to look normal but as the time passed by, every passing second felt like hours.
Placing your hand under the table you kept your other hand over it in hope that it would stop shaking but it was of no use.
Looking up you observed as Joshua took a seat in front of you. Giving you a small smile he poured you a glass of champagne and raised his to make a toast with you.
Holding the glass in a tight grip you clink your glass with his as you take a small sip from it, “Happy Valentine’s Day love. I hope you like what I prepared for us.” Joshua says with a soft smile playing on his lips as he takes a sip of champagne from his own glass.
Passing him a small smile you anxiously look around the place, not having it in you to look him in the eye. You knew how happy he was and you did not want to ruin this moment with him just because of what you were feeling.
You knew thinking so ahead in the future was stupid but what could you do? Your habit of overthinking always got the best of you…
“Are you okay?” You snap out of your thoughts when you hear Joshua’s voice. Looking back at him you nod your head slightly but you notice how his eyes searched for yours.
You could see the slight flicker in them as he placed his glass of champagne back on the table. Standing up he forwarded his hand towards you as he waited for you to take his hand in yours.
Without any questions asked you grab his hand in yours as you stand up from your seat, “Do you trust me?” Joshua asks as he walks towards the exit with his hand hooked with yours.
Giving him a small nod you continue walking with him, “What about the food though?” You ask softly as you stop on your tracks which made him halt in his tracks to turn around and face you.
“Don’t worry. We can come back later, I cannot let you go back home empty stomach now, can I?” Joshua says with a grin on his face as he drags you towards his car.
Opening the backseat door he lets you enter the car first as he himself enters once he’s sure that you’re comfortable sitting in the seat.
“What’s wrong, hmm?” Joshua asked softly as he tangled his hands in your luscious hair. Pushing the strands of hair behind your ear, he slowly made his fingers come to your forehead as he applied slight pressure on them to give you a massage.
Closing your eyes at his actions you let your head rest against the seat as you take in deep breaths to calm your heart down, “I don’t know, aren’t we too young to get married? What if something goes wrong? I don’t want to lose you..” you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper as you slowly look towards Joshua who continues to stare at you with his soft gaze.
“No, I don’t think we’re too young. We’re both financially stable at the moment and I believe in the fact that nothing would go wrong. Our love is strong enough for that sweetheart..” he says as he gently pulls you closer towards him in the backseat of the car.
Resting your head against his chest you close your eyes as you listen to his heartbeat, “Promise me that you won’t leave me alone? Ever..” you whisper with your face buried in his chest as Joshua continues to stroke your hair in a gentle manner.
“I promise I will never leave you alone. Ever..” he says as he brings his hand towards your chin and makes you look up.
Leaning down he slowly attaches his lips on yours, sitting up straight you tangle your hands in his soft curly hair as you pull on them while Joshua continues to kiss you.
You could feel your heart come up in your throat as he continued to kiss you, his hands wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer towards him if that was even possible.
Pulling away, you gasped for air as you noticed the string of saliva which was connecting you both together, an indication of the intense makeup session you just had. Staring into his eyes you leaned closer towards him once again as you gave his nose a light peck.
Nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, Joshua smiled as hugged your figure closer to his warm embrace, “I think I just fell in love with you all over again..” Joshua mumbled in the crook of your neck. His voice sends vibrations throughout your whole body as you give out a small laugh at his words.
“Every minute of the day makes me fall in love with you even more if you’re wondering..” you tell him while playing with his hair.
You don't even know when you sat on his lap in the backseat like this but all you know is that this Valentine’s Day was a day to remember.
Stealing a glance at Joshua you let out a giggle when you notice his ears turning a shade of bright red.
“Are you blushing because of what I said or because of the make out session we just had?” You say in a slightly teasing tone as you poke his cheeks with your fingers.
Looking back up Joshua looks everywhere but you, “Oh look at the time. We should head back inside to have our dinner..” he says trying to change the subject.
Opening the door of the car he lets you get down first before he got out. Locking the car you both started walking towards the hall again with your laughter beaming through the night.
The moonlight shining its light on the two of you making it look like a scene right out of a romantic movie.
"You're not bringing us down. You're not bringing anybody down," Jisung shakes his head hurriedly. "I promise. We'll take this step by step remember?"
pairing » nct park jisung x gn!reader (lmk if i missed anything!)
trope/au » established relationship au, non-idol au, implied friends to lovers
genre » fluffy fluff with a little hint of angst, hurt/comfort for the reader, supportive and patient boyfriend jisung, jisung who just wants to treat you right, also shy but sometimes confident (?) jisung
word count; estimated reading time » 1650; ~6 mins
warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » mentions of a toxic past relationship (reader), jisung implied to be taller, rapid proofread once
navi/masterlist!! 🤍 nct dream masterlist
based on this request! thank you for sending it in anon and i'm sorry it took a while for me to write 😭 i hope you (and everyone else!) enjoys this one!!
The romantic season has finally started, and that also means that sweet treat of early leave that you applied for at the start of the year. You're keen on using the leave to spend more quality time with your loved ones, especially your boyfriend Park Jisung.
From the introduction from mutual friends, you've known Jisung for a long time. Long enough for him to know your favourite drink and your comfort food. Long enough for him to send you cute hamster videos, and comfortable enough for you to reply with a "That's you!" to which Jisung reacts to the message with a blushing emoji; his face perfectly depicted that emoji too.
The exchanges became pretty limited when you got into a relationship. Yes, Jisung is glad you were able to fall in love, but the dried tears on your face whenever he catches a glimpse of you make him feel otherwise. The one-year toxic relationship would continue for a few more months. Some of your friends were understandably frustrated with how you wouldn’t leave, and despite explaining that words aren't easily acted out, the stress only made your room swallow your sobs even more. In the end, when things were better, you confronted all and cut off some.
The reality is that, we could always be prepared for something, and give others advice but when it happens to us, the world stops. Rational thinking may follow after. At that time, you need to surround yourself with healthy and supportive people. That’s who how Park Jisung is to you.
Jisung really did take care of you, every step of the way. Whether it was sending groceries to our house, sending daily affirmations, and despite his lack of experience and nervousness, helping you draft an email to your boss for a short break to take care of yourself. He's open to telling you that he's not sure what to do, but through simple communication, Jisung was the key for you to escape your toxic ex-boyfriend, and the dreadful aftermath of the relationship. That relationship was ages ago, and now you're happily in a relationship with Jisung for a month.
"Ah," Jisung pouts at the reminder. "You're bringing that up again?"
"I can't help it!" You chuckle at your date who takes another spoonful of his soup, adjusting his scarf after to hide his blushing cheeks. "You said I was hot like soup and then confessed right after!"
If the table could come alive and swallow Jisung up, he would appreciate that very much. "But I really did mean it! You've always been hot but that day you were just, you know...amazing and beautiful...I couldn’t help but say my thoughts…"
Every time you bought this up, Jisung would always become flustered. Just like every other time, his cheeks and the tip of his ears flare, his eyes smile but look away from yours, and sometimes his speech stutters due to his racing heart. But this time, maybe it's the heart-shaped decoration by the entrance of the sore, the roses in the middle of the table, or the way that Jisung called this a date. The environment is bustling but not in the sharp clanging of cutlery on porcelain, but the laughter that wraps the both of you in a loving embrace.
Last month, as Jisung delivered his feelings for you smoothly like the ice cream in your hands, your gaze on him softened. You doubt it was the ice cream that spread warmth through your chest and your cheeks. You’ve realised your growing feelings for him throughout the past year, but never dared to speak up; not after your relationship even though you know Jisung is nothing like your ex. Your love for Jisung grows after each date, after each brush against his skin and the kisses he places all over your features. Everything that Jisung did in your presence, reminds you that your feelings for him are reciprocated.
"I thought we agreed that I would pay next," sulking at the fact that you lost the credit card battle once more.
"There will always be a next time," pressing a quick peck on your lips.
Jisung's words have always seemed so confident, but just like the soup from dinner earlier, you're sure that the redness across his cheeks isn't from the cool weather. Even with thick winter gloves, you can feel Jisung's hold like you both were skin-to-skin as you walk along the illuminated footpath from open stores. You talk about everything that came up in your mind, taking turns to nod when Jisung does with yours. Your words are always safe with him, the same way his words are safe with you. Your stories continue to be shared, but it wasn't overbearing; not like how you were treated in your past relationship.
Similarly, Jisung loves to tell you about his day, and coo about the two birds leaning against each other not too far away. Jisung loves to go into detail on the things you talked about on text, all the while observing the windows of the shops for things you liked. You fall in love with his voice which pulls you back into the present whenever your mind drifts somewhere else. Whenever those times hit, Jisung has picked up on some things: the glimmers in your eyes fade, your fingers grow weaker or stronger around his, and your hums would be monotonic and randomise between the middle of his sentences instead of the end.
You're habituated to the shoes shuffling on the gravel, so when you stop, you immediately turn your head to Jisung who's a step behind you. Your eyes widen and your lips tremble at the realisation that you missed parts of his stories.
Your heart drops at your actions. I'm sor-"
"Are you alright?" He interjected. Your hands untangle from his as Jisung fixes your scarf. "Don't want you getting cold," lifting the material to cover your lips and chin better. His eyes resemble a smile when he's satisfied with the adjustment and he rests his palms on your shoulders.
"Sorry, I'm just thinking again," eyes downcasted to your shoes that pointed to his.
"No, it's okay," your boyfriend reassures. "I love listening to your voice. I can never get enough of it."
"Really? I just don't want you to feel like you have to listen to all these things because you really don’t have to-"
"But I love it," he cuts you off once more. Jisung slips a glove off, his palm cupping your chilly cheek. Your head tilts, meeting the reflecting Christmas lights behind you, and how clear your reflection from his orbs. "I love hearing all this because that means you trust me and are comfortable with me telling me all these things."
"Of course, I am, Ji," placing emphasis on the affirmative words. "I just hate how you've always treated me right from the start but I keep on doing this thing where my mind goes to the past and I just bring us down and-"
"You're not bringing us down. You're not bringing anybody down," Jisung shakes his head hurriedly. "I promise. We'll take this step by step remember?"
You focus on the soothing glides that his thumb did on your cheekbones, closing your eyes to savour the gentleness. Jisung steps closer to you, wrapping your body with his arms. His deep tone soothes your mind, and you place an ear to where his steady heart is. All the negative thoughts subside slowly, but surely.
"What you went through was scary, bubs," he whispers, "and I don't expect you to just get over it. You're allowed to be scared."
"But it's not fair on you, Sung..."
"What's not fair is you thinking that it's not fair.” A tear or two escapes your eyes, and your lips shudder at the sincerity of his voice. Your hand lifts, only to clasp onto the hem of his jacket. Jisung guides your breathing, messaging his fingers onto your scalp reassuringly. “You’re not being fair to anyone if you act like nothing happened. I want you to always be open with me, okay? I want to support you. Always.”
“Okay,” your answer comes out hushed, and you’re worried that Jisung didn’t hear it.
You lift your head from his chest, intending to repeat your answer to make sure it gets across. But all words halted when Jisung’s lips fell upon your forehead dearly. The pink deepens into red across his cheekbones, and Jisung hides his eyes behind his overgrown bangs as he stares down at his shuffling feet. For yourself, the heat rises to your cheeks, and you’re sure that Jisung could feel them even through his gloves. And just if that wasn’t enough to make you melt in this winter, Jisung confesses his feelings for you once more as wills himself determinedly to look into your eyes.
“I love you. So, please be fair to yourself.”
There was no way that you could say anything to that, not with how he hits you the words filled with honesty. You see the way his eyes slowly morph into uncertainty at your silence, worried that he made you uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry-” His words are cut off with a kiss on his cheek.
“Don’t be,” you beam at him with the cutest smile, brighter than the sunset behind you. “I love you too, Sungie.”
Delighted with the positive response, Jisung lowers his back to be at eye level with the person that he loves. His thumb traces along the bottom of your lip, index following the shape of your jawline as he gulps at where he puts his finger. You’re met with Jisung’s eyes, and no words are needed when you understand what he is asking for. Your sure nod left Jisung almost sweeping you off the ground, joining his lips with yours sweetly under the warmth of the sunset.
➺ word count: 9.3k
➺ genre & warnings: sci-fi, near future, fluff, falling in love without seeing each other, minor hurt/comfort, coworkers au (but in space), space traffic controllers; brief blood/injury mention
➺ synopsis: in which you go to your job as a space traffic controller every day looking forward to your shifts with one specific coworker who you might be falling head over heels for. and sure, you don't know quebec’s real name, nor what he looks like, but you two talk for hours a day between guiding landings and take-offs, and you know him better than anyone else. you’re perfectly happy, until his end of the comms falls silent one day and won’t reconnect
➺ extra info: i recommend being aware of the existence of the icao alphabet so ur not thrown for a complete loop by ppl’s nicknames in here lol. u don’t need it memorized but i swear i didn’t pull these words out of thin air ok. also, in aviation, the number 9 is pronounced niner, ur not going crazy and neither am i
➺ author’s note: agh i had so, so much fun with this one! i know i say that with every new fic, but it’s true! also, i don’t know a whole lot about being an air traffic controller, so this was only loosely based off that (and reader and kun’s jobs are made up anyway), but my dad used to have his pilot’s license and take me flying with him when i was little and i took aviation classes in hs, so i do have a bit of knowledge/experience from that so there’s definitely a lot of influence from american aviation jargon in here (whether or not it’s used correctly is an entirely different thing... we’re in space in the future, after all)
You didn’t immediately see any sign of injury and grabbed his wrist to try to find a pulse. It was faint, but there, and when you put your hand under his nose, you could feel his shallow breaths against your skin. He didn’t rouse, though, and that was when you saw a drop of blood trailing out of his ear.
“Hey, Quebec?” You spoke into the mic, knowing that only one other person could hear you.
“—eah, Zulu?” A familiar man’s voice came through your headset, the very beginning of his sentence cut off as he hadn’t let there be enough still air before he started speaking.
One might think your job lonely or heroic or an opportunity to travel and see some of what the vast Milky Way had to offer. Space Traffic Control was by no means glamorous, and you certainly didn’t feel like a grand figure of mythology in your standard-issue orange jumpsuit that all employees wore on duty, sat at your desk with your feet crossed under you and your mic in one hand as you used the other for leverage against the counter to spin yourself around and around, the various lights on your control panel turning into a starshower before your very eyes. But you quite liked your job. You had the same shift almost every day, so your schedule was predictable, and while the landings and takeoffs that you oversaw were pretty regular thanks to the advancements in space travel, every so often, something fantastic did happen, and you did get to save the day with your quick thinking and directions. You were very rarely thanked or even acknowledged for it, all of the credit and glory going to the pilots, of course, but you didn’t mind—keeping your head down had always best suited you.
And you could never feel alone, even if you were the only person in your control tower. Not when you had Quebec. It was policy to have two controllers on duty at all times, in case of medical emergency (or non-emergency, since even Space Traffic Controllers had to use the bathroom). While you and Quebec weren’t always on shift at the same time, the shifts that you shared with him were by far your favorite. You’d never met in person, nor seen his face, nor even knew his real name, only his call name (Quebec Kilo). But other than that, you knew everything about each other. It wasn’t against any rules for STCs to know each other’s names, but since you only ever used call names on shift, it was pretty pointless to give out your real names.
The landing dock had two towers facing each other, and while they technically did have windows so you could see outside at the approaching spacecraft, even when the lighting was perfect, you could make out no more than a fuzzy, shadowy outline of a person in the window opposite you.
“What did you bring for dinner?”
“Don’t tell me you’re eating your dinner already.” His voice was clearly exasperated.
You hurried to swallow the chip in your mouth before replying. “No…”
“I can hear the food in your mouth.”
“Just a snack!”
“And now you’re going to get hungry again right after dinner and have to go to the vending machine down the hall for another snack and leave me alone with everything.”
“For like five minutes.”
“Remember when that Class-III Tanker came in for an emergency docking while you were on a snack break?”
“Remember every single other time when that didn’t happen, and it was perfectly uneventful?”
He kept his mic on to sigh directly into it, letting you know exactly how he felt. “Just go ahead and eat all of your dinner, why don’t you?”
“Maybe I will,” you bickered back.
“I just brought a rice ball from the convenience store in Sector II,” he answered your question anyway. “And an iced tea.”
“You like to warm your rice balls up or do you eat them cold?”
“I’ve got a salmon one today.”
“Question still stands.”
“Who eats warm salmon and mayo rice balls?”
“Plenty of perfectly normal people.”
He laughed, his disgust from earlier fading away. “You warm up your salmon and mayo onigiri, don’t you?”
“What’s weird about that?” You immediately defended yourself.
“Nothing, I suppose,” he gave in. “I’ve just never thought to try it. Pork, sure. Beef, absolutely. Salmon or tuna? Never.”
“You should try it today. I know that tower has a microwave.”
“Our towers are exactly the same.”
“Almost.”
“What are you leaving me this time? And where?”
You tried to imagine his grin, despite knowing nothing about what he looked. You had decided long ago that he had dimples, one deeper than the other, because that was obviously cuter. And probably straight teeth, since he spoke like he was well educated, which meant his family probably had the money to afford braces if he needed them.
“You’ll find out,” you replied in a sing-songy voice, having already stashed various gifts somewhere around the office. Days in the towers were long and boring, so you’d been teaching yourself more and more complicated origami, always leaving pieces in hiding spots around the tower for Quebec to find the next time he was in there.
The ten STCs were split into two teams of five. Since the station was so large, it was a chore to commute back and forth between the towers every shift. So, each team of five was assigned to one tower, then you’d swap every two months. This meant that your cabin also moved every two months to the opposite side of the station, but you didn’t mind—crew cabins were impersonal and barebones anyway, and different sectors had different offerings in the convenience stores, cafeteria, food court, and just different people. It was a change in scenery even if you were still stuck in the same corner of space.
“And what do you have for dinner, Zu?” He hummed, imitating your tune.
“Well, I just finished my chips,” you sighed with disappointment, tossing the wrapper away. “They were salt and vinegar. But I still have some fruit—honeydew, it’s my favorite—and a leftover sandwich from the caf from yesterday.”
“The fruit—is it imported? From Earth?”
You scoffed. “Pfft! I can’t afford that! You know how much we make! Wait—Unless you’re making more than me. Bec, are you making more than me?”
“No, no, no,” he reassured you with a laugh. “I just thought you might have saved up, since it’s your favorite.”
“It’s my favorite, but I still can’t justify spending that much on something that I’m just going to digest.” You shook your head. “Ag-bubble-grown is perfectly fine for me, thanks.”
“Practical.”
“It’s what I grew up eating. I don’t have a spoiled palate.”
“Like I said, practical.”
A blip appeared on one of your screens, at the same time that all the information on the craft appeared on the screen beside it. “It’s that civilian craft we’ve been waiting for,” you said. “Rock paper scissors?”
“Because that’s always been great via audio,” Quebec chuckled.
“Hundredth time’s the charm.”
“Rock paper scissors, shoot—Rock!” “Paper!”
“See?” He said pointedly, and you imagined him rolling his eyes. “The person who says it always has the disadvantage because of the delay.”
“No, I think you almost had me that time. Really.”
He sighed and cleared his throat, which you took as your cue to turn your mic off. There was another distinct crackle of him turning his outgoing signal on before he started speaking to the incoming spacecraft.
“Space Traffic Control to civilian Sparrow, November-One-One-Niner-Six-Whiskey. Do you copy?”
“Civilian Sparrow November-One-One-Niner-Six-Whiskey, we copy, Space Traffic Control.” The voice of the pilot was even more garbled than yours and Quebec’s, typical not only of civilian spacecraft, but judging by how short the N number was, he had a much, much older craft as well. There had been so many made by now that some N numbers were over 10 characters long and included letters too. After the initial identification was made, the N number would typically be abbreviated to the last three characters to save time, unless another craft was in the area with a similar N number. “We are approaching your portside slightly positive on your z-axis, but we’ll sort that out before we get there, about five minutes out. Do we have permission to land?”
“Control to Sparrow, you are all clear for landing. We’ll see you in a bit.”
Quebec had hardly turned off his outgoing feed when you caught another blip on your screen, this one you weren’t expecting, approaching quickly. You frowned as Quebec cursed under his breath, the information on the spacecraft once again reading out underneath the information on the Sparrow. This was also a civilian craft, slightly larger than the Sparrow, and definitely newer, the N number at least 10 digits long by the look of it.
“Space Traffic Control to civilian Hummingbird, November-Zero-India—”
“Yeah, copy,” the pilot of the new spacecraft cut Quebec off.
“I need to finish identifying your craft,” he said through gritted teeth. “Civilian Hummingbird, November-Zero-India-Zero-Zero-Seven-Four-Two-Zero-Juliet-Foxtrot-Niner-Eight-Delta. Do you copy?”
There was a long bout of silence, so Quebec asked again, “Hummingbird Niner-Eight-Delta, do—”
“Yeah, I copy, didn’t you hear me the first five times?” The pilot was clearly irritated now, and so were you and Quebec.
“Were you holding the button to turn your mic on the first five times?” Your coworker asked.
“I’m landing in like, two minutes. It’s clear, right?”
“No.”
“What?!”
“We don’t have your flight on file, and there’s another spacecraft that did put their landing request in ahead of time that we’re expecting to land within the next five minutes. So, no,” Quebec reiterated with no sympathy. “Do an orbit. An eccentric one.”
The pilot sputtered indignantly before declaring, “This is an emergency!”
“All readings from your vessel indicate that it’s in perfect condition. Brand new, even. What is the nature of your emergency? Please give us specific details so we can assist.”
You, meanwhile, were glad that your mic was muted, because you were keeled over at your desk laughing, wiping at the tears being forced from your eyes.
Clearly unable to think of a specific emergency scenario, the Hummingbird pilot gave up. “Fine! I’ll orbit and land in ten minutes.”
“We will process your landing request and let you know if you have permission to land.” There was no response from the pilot, but Quebec nevertheless said, “Control over.”
“Hummingbird over,” he finally replied, not hiding how peeved he was.
The dot signifying the Hummingbird changed course, beginning an oblong orbit around the space station that would thankfully take it out of the path of the incoming Sparrow.
“Asshole,” Quebec muttered over your internal frequency.
“Just because we’re not near any major planet doesn’t mean they can show up unannounced and expect to land whenever they want,” you scoffed. “Nobody seems to get that we’re the last station around for light-years, so everybody stops in. Which is why they’re trying to land in the first place.”
“You would think they’d think about that, but no,” he sighed. “Everybody assumes nobody exists outside their own ship. Including us. We’re just disembodied voices to them.”
“I wonder how many people think they’re talking to an automated system when they talk to us.”
“Lots, I’m sure.”
A few minutes later, the Sparrow landed with no issues, and you waved to the quaint ship of various patchwork panels of tan and browns as it came in, despite the pilot being unable to see you. It was just something you liked to do.
“Bec?”
“Yeah, Zu?”
“You want me to let the Hummingbird know their landing has been approved?”
He groaned. “No, but better you than me.”
You snickered, composing yourself right before turning your external comms on, establishing a connection to the Sparrow with a flick of a switch. “Space Tower Control to civilian Hummingbird Niner-Eight-Delta, do you copy?”
“Where’s the other guy?” The pilot asked, surprise evident in his tone. He was clearly ready for a round two.
“Control to civilian Hummingbird Niner-Eight-Delta, do you copy?” You repeated in your most neutral, artificial customer service voice.
“As long as he stays gone,” he grumbled. His time-out imposed by Quebec had clearly done him no good. “Yeah, this is civilian Hummingbird Niner-Eight-Delta. I copy, Control.”
“Your landing request has been approved. In the future, please submit your landing requests at least twelve standard Earth hours prior to arrival in non-emergency cases.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“What’s your ETA, Hummingbird?”
“1743.”
“Copy. Fair winds, Hummingbird. Control over.”
“Fair winds,” he repeated unenthusiastically. “Hummingbird over.”
The Hummingbird was of course a sleek ship, slightly larger than the Sparrow in size, but all smooth, thin, long shapes and a glossy scarlet red paint job with chrome accenting. You flipped it off as it glided by to dock with the space station.
After coming back from your late-night vending machine break, you catapulted yourself back into your rolly chair with enough momentum to roll back up to your station with no extra movements needed. Putting your headset back on, you announced into your mic, “I’m back!”
“You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?” You clicked your tongue.
“No.”
“Anyway, I got cookies, in case you were curious,” you told him cheerily. “And information!”
“What sort of information?”
“There was a paper on the bulletin board by the vending machine advertising skiing lessons on Nixu for this upcoming snow season. Starts in just a couple months. You know what that means?”
“We’re about to get all their tourists coming through here on their way to go ski and snowboard and whatever else,” he sighed. “For the next three Nixiun years.”
“Yup!” You confirmed through your bite of cookie. “How many standard years is that? Five? Ten?”
“Too many.”
“Well, Nixiun summer was peaceful while it lasted. For the whole six months.”
“God, have we really been working here for that long?”
“We started within a couple weeks of each other, I think. My one year’s coming up.”
“My one year was a few days ago.”
“Aw, and you didn’t tell me?” You gasped in betrayal. “I would’ve done something!”
“It’s fine, Zulu. I think I was on shift with Pops anyway.” Pops—another one of the Space Traffic Controllers on your team, an older man who happened to be assigned the call name Golf Papa (shortened to Pops).
“Yeah, but you and me are like—” You gesticulated wildly as you scrambled for the right word. “You know?”
“No, not really,” he laughed. “I need you to elaborate a little bit more.”
“We’re Quebec and Zulu, you know? Bec and Zu.” You could see your pout in the reflection of the glass window as you looked out at Quebec’s control tower across from you. “I know we’re all close but you and me are like extra. Right?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Quebec agreed without a hint of sarcasm or jest. “When’s your one year? I want to make sure I don’t miss it.”
“In six days. I expect fireworks,” you teased.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“We’re working together that day, I think.” You pulled up the schedule on your computer connected to the ship’s intranet. “Yeah, the 1600 to 2400 shift again. It’s starred, we’re going to have a VIP that shift.”
“What about the day before?”
You hummed as you looked it over. “Wednesday… I’m off, and you are on the 2400 to 0800 shift with Uni. You have a lot of time between shifts on Wednesday and Thursday at least. Ooh… never mind.”
“What?”
“You’ve got alt shifts Tuesday-Wednesday. You’re on 0800 to 1600 Tuesday with Uni.”
With 8-hour shifts and two controllers needing to be on shift at a time, your supervisors tried to give you at least two shifts—16 hours—off between when you were scheduled to allow for adequate rest and downtime. Being scheduled for alternating shifts, on, off, then back on (or god forbid, double shifts), was a nightmare for trying to get any rest, errands, or other personal time in.
“Let me see this,” he mumbled, presumably pulling it up on his own monitor. A few moments later, he groaned. “Kill me now.”
“Hey, I’ve got the 1600 shift Tuesday with Indy,” you scoffed. “I’ll kill you if you kill me.”
“Ah, he’s not so bad…”
“You interact with him for all of five minutes when you swap, I have to deal with him for the whole eight hours.”
“Our crew quarters are near each other, actually. We’ve grabbed lunch.”
You clutched your chest as your jaw dropped in horror. “I thought we were friends, Bec, and now I find out you’ve grabbed lunch with my archnemesis?”
“Normal people don’t have archnemeses, Zu.”
“Well I—” A blip popped up on your screen and you quickly switched your comms over to address the incoming ship. “Space Traffic Control to military Wasp, Kilo-Five-Five-Eight. Do you copy?”
Military ships didn’t have N numbers like civilian crafts, instead they had a much shorter ID number. The first letter indicated the classification of the vessel, while the numbers after were unique to that ship.
“Military Wasp Kilo-Five-Five-Eight to Space Traffic Control, we copy,” the pilot replied automatically. “We’re not looking to dock, just requesting a conditions report.”
“Nothing major in the past twenty-four hours and nothing expected in the next forty-eight. Sending the full specs to your ship now,” you said, quickly doing so on your computer.
A few moments later, she confirmed, “Received. Thanks, Control. We’ll be heading out now.”
“Fair skies. Control over.”
“And following seas. Wasp over.”
It seemed a bit silly to you when you started as an STC, to say an old Naval blessing every time you ended a conversation with someone, considering that you were in space so there were no skies or seas to speak of. But soon it became second nature to you. You found that most civilians just echoed ‘fair skies’ back to you, but military personnel would actually complete the phrase.
As soon as you had turned your outgoing feed off, you got right back into it with Quebec, closing your eyes and putting a hand over your chest as you went on with your impassioned opinion, “I think having an archnemesis livens things up. Especially around here.”
“I thought that’s what I was for?” He teased.
“Do you want to be my archnemesis instead?”
“Could be fun.” You imagined him shrugging with a lopsided grin on his face. “Are you taking applications?”
“Only for you.”
“Ooh, I feel so special.”
“Yeah, well I’m tired of wasting time and brainpower on Indy of all fucking people.” You kicked your feet up on the desk, eyes focused on the other tower now as you grinned at it. You always left shifts with Quebec with sore cheeks. “I need someone more on my level anyway.”
“Are you saying if I become your archnemesis then you’ll think about me all the time?” His voice curled around your ear, still playful but not quite the same friendly banter as before. You weren’t sure when it started, but there were moments like this, between your taunting, and poring your hearts out to each other, and rousing games of audio rock-paper-scissors, and actual work, that the mood… shifted.
You bit the tip of your thumb to keep from literally screaming, taking a second to compose yourself before answering. “Mm… maybe.”
“Because then you’re already my archnemesis.”
Muting your mic, you then literally screamed and pumped your fist into the air victoriously. After a deep inhale, you turned your mic back on, unable to contain your giddiness in your one-word question, “Really?”
A hand landed on your shoulder, and you let out an embarrassing yelp directly into the mic, whipping around to see the STC who was taking the next shift from you. “Fucking—Delta! What the fuck, man?”
Quebec was now laughing directly in your ear over the headset, and you took one ear off to hear what Delta said back to you.
“I’ve been here for the past two minutes. I thought you saw the light.” He indicated to the red light above your station that flashed when someone opened the door to your tower. You must’ve had your eyes shut when Delta came in and missed the signal. Delta looked entirely unamused and a little disgusted as he looked down at you, continuing, “Anyway, I’m ready and I can’t listen to you and Quebec do… whatever that is anymore.”
Your stomach dropped out of your ass at his words. What the hell did your conversation with Bec sound like to other people? Apparently bad. You barely knew Delta, only interacting with him during shift hand-offs, and, yeah, he seemed a bit uptight, but still, this was embarrassing.
Quebec was no longer laughing, now coughing and sputtering on the other end of the line too. You meekly put the mic back on the desk and took the headset off, handing it over to Delta. He took disinfectant wipes to the headset, waving them in the air for the solution to dry before putting them on and taking the seat which you had just vacated. You shuffled over to the table by the door where your bag was, as well as the IN/OUT log, which you signed before hurrying out.
Returning to the hall where your crew cabin was, you walked by an open door and stopped to poke your head in, beaming at the woman sitting on her bunk. “Hey, Uni!”
“Hey, Zulu,” the STC on your team—Uniform Lima was her full call name—lifted her hand in greeting. “Just get off shift?”
“Yeah, I was going to grab something to eat and head to the gym before sleeping. Want to come?”
“I already worked out, but I could eat,” she agreed.
“Let me get out of my jumpsuit then we can go. You pick.”
Indy was the only STC who was a gym rat to your knowledge, but being in space, working out and supplements were just a fact of life in order to prevent muscle atrophy and other deterioration of your body. You were used to it, having spent plenty of time on spaceships growing up. Going to the gym with a buddy made the mandatory exercise regimen go by a lot quicker.
After changing into casual clothes appropriate for the gym, you grabbed Uni and headed out. She was a few years older than you, not nearly Pops’ age, but you knew she had been here for a little while before you started. Uni was a tall woman, tall enough that you had to crane your neck a little to look up at her, with dark black hair that she kept cropped close to her head. There were a few premature specks of grey at the back, which you never mentioned to her in case she hadn’t noticed.
“You were on shift with Quebec today?” She asked casually.
“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you answered. “You… checked the schedule?”
“Just to see when I was working. You had your dopey little smile on, so I figured.”
You covered your mouth with both your hands, squinting at her over them. “What are you talking about?”
“No, I think it’s cute. You guys are so cute when you talk about each other.”
“He talks about me?!”
She burst into laughter, fondly patting the top of your head. “Gotcha.”
“You’re mean,” you huffed, swatting her hand away. “Mean and awful and a liar—”
“I wasn’t lying!” You friend defended herself. “He does talk about you when we’re on shift. And it is very cute, too. I just also gotcha by bringing it up.”
The two of you had arrived at the food court that never closed, and she started towards one of the options. You followed, not caring where you ate right now, and also desperately needing to continue this conversation.
“What does he say, Uni?” You pleaded, shaking her by the arm as you got in the short line. Time was pretty meaningless on a space station in the middle of nowhere, constantly getting travelers arriving and departing, so people ate whenever they pleased. The only ones who tended to keep a pretty regular schedule were the crew—except STCs, of course.
“He talks about you the most, out of all the STCs. It’s always Zulu this, Zu that. He knows we’re friends, so he asks about how you’re doing if you guys haven’t been scheduled together for a while, stuff like that.”
You dug your toe into the metal panel under you as you thought about it. Suddenly, your friend was pinching your cheek and cooing at you, “Cute!”
“Uni!” You whined and smacked her hand away, cradling your now-tender skin. She laughed as the two of you shuffled up in line.
The days all tended to blur together on the space station if you weren’t careful. Time was pretty meaningless in the middle of nowhere with no seasons or daylight to give your body cues. STCs mostly relied on shifts and tower cycles as units of time—the duration of a shift, and how long you were assigned to one tower before you moved to the opposite side of the station.
You were back on shift with Quebec, and so far, it had been a busy one. You’d barely had time to breathe between arrivals and departures, much less chitchat. Finally, during what seemed to be a lull, you pulled out your bag of food from your bag.
“Alright, that’s it,” you huffed. “I’m eating dinner.”
“What do you have tonight?” He asked.
“Didn’t have time to run to the convenience store today so it’s just some snacks and stuff I had in my room. Might have to make a vending machine run, sorry.”
“Look in the minifridge.”
“What? Did you rig it to explode?” You pushed your rolling chair back to grab the edge of the fridge, pulling the door open to peer inside.
“You’ll just have to find out.”
A plastic container greeted you, and you grabbed it, already spotting something green inside. Setting it and your mic back down on your desk, you took the lid off with a pop, eyes bugging out of your head as you looked at the green and white cubes. The color and shine alone told you that these weren’t grown in an ag-bubble, these were imported straight from Earth.
“Quebec…” You breathed out in awe. “You did not.”
“You can’t justify spending that much on something you’re going to digest, but I can,” he replied kindly. “Go ahead, eat. Happy one year at the station.”
“I didn’t even remember that was today,” you admitted.
You grabbed a cube between your fingers, not bothering to find utensils. The best part was licking your fingers after, in your opinion. The fruit was juicy and sweet, no bitterness from the rind at all, and so much more flavor than ag-bubble fruit could ever develop. You felt tears well up in your eyes, embarrassingly.
“God, it’s so good. Thank you,” you mumbled through your half-eaten honeydew. “I wish I could share it with you right now.”
“No, don’t worry about me,” he said, and you heard a faint pop of another plastic lid opening on his end of the line. “They were selling it by weight. I had them send some to your tower and some to mine.”
You smiled at the tower across the landing dock. “We are sharing it right now.”
“Yeah, we are.”
“Have you ever been on a picnic, Bec? Like, a real one, outside on a blanket with a picnic basket on the grass with fresh air and food and your friends and family?”
“Once, when I was really little. I don’t remember much about it. My mom showed me a picture,” he mused. “Have you, Zu?”
“No, never. I was born on a mining colony. Never breathed fresh air in my life, or been to Earth. Always been in ships, stations like this, or firmaments.” Firmaments—man-made structures on the surface of planets whose conditions were not naturally habitable for humans. Within the firmaments, the air quality, pressure, temperature, and planet’s surface could be regulated in order to allow for human survival. The actual mining typically happening outside of the firmaments, however, and that was only one reason that it was so dangerous—and lucrative.
“What about your parents?”
“They weren’t born on Earth either, never saw the big deal about going to visit.” You shrugged, popping another piece of melon in your mouth. “What about you?”
“My parents were born on Earth. They wanted me to be born there too, but I came a little early while they were on a trip to a nearby resort planet. The closest hospital was on its moon…”
“Did you grow up on Earth then?”
“Visited after I was born, went back and forth for a good bit of my childhood, but my parents just liked traveling too much to stay in one place.”
“My family moved around a lot too. Mining pays good, but you have to move with the materials. There’s always some hot new mineral in vogue that’s paying more than the last thing everyone wanted. You never want to stick around until a mine dries up.”
“How long does that take? Like, how much did you move around?”
“Depends. Sometimes we were there for a few weeks or months, sometimes years.”
Quebec was quiet for a moment, and you took the opportunity to eat two more pieces of honeydew. Then, he said, “Zulu?”
“Yeah?”
“Why did you take this job? All the way out here?”
“I didn’t want to work in the mines with my parents my whole life. Saw the opening and figured I might as well give it a go,” you answered simply. “What about you?”
“Kind of similar. More desperate, I think,” he admitted. “I was in med school, actually, and I was absolutely miserable. Just at rock fucking bottom. I told my parents I was going to quit and they said I couldn’t unless I either enrolled in law school, or got a job. This was the first one I found.”
You blinked, watching the dark dot in the window across from you. “Wow. I don’t think you’ve ever told me that.”
“Haven’t talked to anybody about it since coming here.”
“Why’d you ask me that then? You had to have figured I would’ve turned the question back on you.”
“I… don’t think I knew I was going to tell you that until I said it.”
“You know you can always talk about whatever with me, Bec.”
“I know,” he replied warmly. “Same for you. I’m all ears.”
“So you quit med school, took the first job you could find and just happened to find something you liked doing?”
“No,” he chuckled. “I did not take to being an STC at all initially. I wanted to quit after my first week. I was on this stupid station in the middle of nowhere starting all over again at a job that paid considerably less than the surgeon I was supposed to be. I was miserable, and lost, and kept thinking that they were right and I should just put my head down and be a doctor or a lawyer or whatever. It felt like I could’ve disappeared from the universe and nobody would notice.” He sighed, and you felt your heart twist in your chest. “Then during my second week, another new STC started, and we ended up on a shift together. And you said—there’s no way you remember this, Zulu, it’s so… but—What do you remember about that shift?”
You rifled through your memories desperately for something, anything specific, but came up empty. “Not much, I mean, it was like my second one, I think. So I was still pretty nervous about doing everything right, and I remember meeting you, but I don’t think we even talked much outside of small talk, right?”
“That’s great. I mean it, I love that you’re just like this, that you weren’t trying to do it,” he laughed with his whole chest, and you smiled fondly, not feeling like he was laughing at you at all. “Anyway, it was pretty dead that shift, and in one of the quiet times, you got on the mic and you told me to look outside. I thought there was a ship or something going on. But then you said, ‘I’ve never seen these stars before.’ Which made me realize I hadn’t even looked at the stars since arriving at the station. At the end of the shift, you said, ‘Talk to you next time, Quebec.’ And I decided ‘sure, I’ll stick around until next time, see what else she’ll say.’” His words made you snicker softly, and he continued, “And then you just kept saying these little, interesting things, or things that made me smile for the first time in years, or you’d ask questions and let me talk about whatever I wanted… I kept putting off quitting until I wasn’t half-bad at being an STC and didn’t hate living at the station anymore.”
“Bec…” You murmured, fidgeting with the wire of your headset. “Do—”
A dot popped up on your monitor then, and Quebec said, “Ah, there’s the ambassador.”
Because of where you were in space, the last station for a very long while along the intergalactic travel routes in this region, it wasn’t unusual for you to receive special arrivals. Politicians, ambassadors, military leaders, celebrities, you’ve seen a lot in your one year as an STC. Today, an ambassador from Earth was stopping over on their way to an intergalactic peace conference. You and Quebec had received the briefing for the landing in advance to your crew emails, so the ship information that appeared along with the dot was already familiar to you. When the VIPs were of this caliber, all of the higher-ups on the ship would be at the docking port to greet them. The protocols for landing were also slightly different, meaning that having two STCs was necessary for much of it.
“Space Traffic Control to military Heavy, Papa-Zero-Four-Niner. Do you copy?” Quebec took over the initial paging.
“Military Heavy, Papa-Zero-Four-Niner to Control, we copy,” the pilot’s voice came back quickly. “Sending out recognition codes…”
An incoming message from the Heavy flashed up on your screen, and you accepted. Quebec read his out first, then you got on the mic to read out your three-number code.
“Great, thanks,” the pilot acknowledged. “Are we clear for landing?”
“Yes,” Quebec confirmed.
The two of you seamlessly worked through the pre-landing protocols with the Heavy’s pilot. Finally, you just had to wait for the craft to get closer before you could begin the next phase: landing. The pilot dropped off the comms momentarily to address something internally, promising to get back on when it was time to begin the landing. That just left you and Quebec again.
“Wonder why they even keep having these intergalactic peace conferences,” he mused. “They only invite the factions that are already at peace, never the ones with any tension.”
“It’s symbolic, I guess,” you shrugged. “Maybe they talk about how to go about achieving peace with the ones that aren’t there? Or to promote continued peace among the ones that are there?”
“It’d probably be worse to stop at this point, huh?”
“Yeah, might not look good if they stopped holding the intergalactic peace conference that’s been going on for the past couple decades.”
“Still, Th’irin always has something to say about—” A heavy clunk punctuated the end of his words, followed by silence. Not fuzzy silence, like when the mic was on but the person on the other end was quiet. Dead silence, like the mic had been shut off entirely.
“Bec?” You said uncertainly. Someone must have come into his tower, and he was addressing them off-mic.
When he still hadn’t responded a minute later, even to tell you to hold on or wait a minute, you started getting nervous. Sitting forward in your seat, you futzed with cover on your microphone as you called into it again.
“Quebec? You there?”
Nothing.
You paged him properly this time, hitting the button to flash the lights in his tower as you enunciated as clearly as possible, “Space Traffic Control Tower One to Tower Two, Quebec Kilo, do you copy?”
At the same time, your hands rushed to send a message to him via the STC system.
[TOWER1: Q? DO YOU COPY?]
Your heartbeat was thudding in your ears as you desperately went to send another message via the ship intranet to your superiors instead. As soon as you had started drafting it, though, you cursed under your breath and deleted it. They would be down at the dock waiting to receive the ambassador, not at their usual stations with monitors ready to receive emergency alerts from the STC towers.
“Military Heavy to Control, do you copy?” The pilot’s voice cut through the sound of your heartbeat, and you banged your fist on the desk in frustration. You quickly went into the system and switched it over to be a dual STC setup on your monitors since Quebec apparently wasn’t going to be able to help.
Turning your outgoing feed back on, you confirmed, “Control to Heavy, we copy.”
Now with both set of STC controls, you had to move twice as fast to input everything and go through the landing protocols with the pilot. All the while, in the back of your mind, the black put of worry in your stomach only grew and grew.
In between operations, you were drafting a new message, this time to the other STCs. You doubted any of them were going to be checking their staff emails not on duty, but you needed some kind of help. It was a succinct SOS, and you had to focus back in on landing the ambassador’s ship again, and sent it off without another thought.
“Your partner’s quiet,” the pilot commented, their tone light, and you knew they meant nothing by it. “Did you guys rock paper scissors for who would take what parts?”
“Mm, yeah,” you forced out a laugh through gritted teeth, smacking the page button for Quebec’s tower again—just in case.
The light in your tower flashed, and your heart nearly exploded with hope that it was Quebec signaling back to you, that something had just gone awry with his mic and he was still there. Then a hand tapped your shoulder, and you were thrown back into despair again.
It was Pops, the lines on his forehead clear as he furrowed his brows in confusion. He held his digipad out to you, your SOS message on it. You held a finger up to gesture for him to wait a moment as you were receiving pertinent information from the pilot.
“Seven-Five, Two-Zero,” you echoed, entering the numbers as you said them. “Copy.”
Taking one ear of your headphones off, you switched your outgoing comms off before immediately rambling, “It’s Quebec! He dropped off the mic like five minutes ago and he’s not answering, Pops!”
The older man held his hands out in a ‘calm down’ motion. “You’re sure he’s not just getting a snack?”
“No, no, he’d tell me! It was in the middle of his sentence, and we’re literally landing an ambassador’s ship right now!” You sputtered out, gesticulating between your controls and the large ship right outside your window. “He wouldn’t just leave! Something’s wrong!”
His jaw set and he gave one solemn nod. “How far are you?”
“The rest is automated now. But I can’t—”
“I’ll monitor,” he cut you off. “You go check on Quebec.”
“He’s all the way—”
“Now, Zulu!”
You shot to your feet and threw your headphones off and onto the desk. Running from the control room, you didn’t even stay to see Pops take over the station like you’re supposed to.
The space station was huge. It was a thirty-minute walk on a good day from one side to the other, but now that you had fully been overtaken by panic, all of the worst-case scenarios playing in your mind, your stomach consuming itself in fear and anxiety crushing your lungs, it felt insurmountable. Probably your only saving grace was the fact that word had gotten around about the ambassador’s arrival, so lots of people were down on the observation decks above the landing bay to watch the ship dock rather than milling through all the halls that you were currently sprinting through. Even the crew-only shortcuts that you had access to—which you knew were faster—felt like agony to wait for. Standing around in the elevators felt like standing in lava despite the fact that you knew they were moving 100x faster than it felt. The crew corridors were narrower, and you cut corners too close, banging your shoulder or elbow a few times. In your impatience, you lost the location of Tower 2 a couple times on the directory when selecting your destination in a transporter, screaming and kicking the wall in frustration. The pain distracted you from all the what-ifs, and grounded you back into this moment, so you didn’t actually mind it much.
You clutched the handles of Tower 2’s elevator so tightly your fingertips went numb, gnawing on your bottom lip until well past the point you tasted blood. Finally, you were at the control room, and you damn near pried the doors open yourself. Pushing yourself through the doors as they opened, you probably bruised your shoulder again, but you hardly registered it.
Under the red light that flashed to announce your arrival, a man was sprawled on the floor between the chair and the control station. You ran over, pulling the chair away to reach him. He was face-down, and you took his headphones off to roll him over.
“Quebec!” You shook his shoulder a little less than gently.
You didn’t immediately see any sign of injury and grabbed his wrist to try to find a pulse. It was faint, but there, and when you put your hand under his nose, you could feel his shallow breaths against your skin. He didn’t rouse, though, and that was when you saw a drop of blood trailing out of his ear.
“Oh, God,” you muttered, scrambling to your feet to lunge for the bright blue medical emergency button by the door. The button lit up, and you ran back to grab his headphones and mic.
“—ation EMTs will be at your location in less than two minutes. Please communicate the nature of your emergency if you’re able,” the dispatcher’s voice requested.
“I just found the STC in this tower passed out. He’s got blood coming out of his ear and he won’t wake up,” you said.
“Do you know how long he’s been in this state?”
“Twenty minutes?”
“Okay. Any sign of injury?”
“No, nothing. He was fine, he was talking and just, I don’t know, collapsed I think!” You didn’t mean to snap at the dispatcher, but you were freaked out by how little you knew.
“Alright, okay. I understand. The EMTs will be there very soon. Can you stay on the line with me in the meantime?”
“Yeah.”
“Who is the patient?”
“An STC—call name Quebec Kilo.”
“And who are you?”
“I’m an STC too. Zulu Echo. We were on shift and he just dropped off the mic in the middle of a landing.”
“Got it, got it.”
“Where the EMTs?” You asked, feeling for Quebec’s breaths again.
“They’re in the elevator now.”
The elevator door opened then, and your throat seized up anxiously. “They’re here. Thank you.”
“I’ll hang up now. Goodbye, Zulu Echo.”
You took the headphones off as the two EMTs swarmed Quebec’s body, watching them start evaluating his vitals with their field scanner.
“We have the information you gave dispatch,” one EMT informed you. “We’re going to take him to the infirmary in this sector.”
You grabbed the edge of the desk to pull yourself to your feet. “I’ll—”
“Elevator isn’t big enough for all of us,” the other informed you regretfully as they had started loading him onto a stretcher. “You can take the next one.”
“Right. I’ll be right behind you.”
You watched them take him out, and as soon as the elevator doors closed behind them, felt your knees buckle under you. Barely catching yourself against the desk, your eyes filled with tears, which you barely saw the flash of a red light through. The elevator wasn’t opening again, though, so you figured it must be a page.
Picking up the headphones and mic, you kept it on the internal system as you croaked, “Pops?”
“Oh, Zulu, there you are,” his relief was evident in his voice. “How is he?”
“Bad, I think,” you confessed, tears slipping down your face. “He was out cold, and there was blood coming from his ear. The EMTs took him—”
“You know where?”
“Sector 2 infirmary.”
“So what are you doing still talking to me?”
“Right. Bye, Pops.”
Your hands were trembling as you set the headphones down on the desk. With a trembling breath, you recalled the elevator. It was empty when you stepped on, and you numbly selected down. The infirmary was close by to the tower, and you wiped your eyes in the hall outside before entering.
It was eerily empty, and your stomach dropped. You dug your nails into your palm to try to get control of yourself again. Finally, a nurse came out of the hallway and into the main hallway where you were, clearly surprised when he spotted you.
“Sorry about that.” He focused a frazzled smile on you. “How can I help you?”
You were sure you were mirroring his expression. “I’m here to see somebody. He should’ve just come in with the EMTs…?”
“Yes, the doctors are working on him.” He pointed over his shoulder. “I’ll take you to where you can wait.”
You were put into a small patient room with a bed and one chair. After pacing for who knows how long, your feet finally got tired enough that you sat down in the chair. You didn’t sit for very long before you were back on your feet, pacing again. That repeated at least three times before you finally heard something from the hall.
Your eyes were already on the doorway when a gurney was pushed in, Quebec laying atop it. Stepping out of the way of the two nurses who transferred him from the gurney to the bed and started hooking him up the monitoring equipment, you were then pulled aside by the doctor who had come in with them.
“Are you a friend?” She asked.
“Yeah, we work together,” you confirmed. “I called it in.”
“Good timing,” she commented lightheartedly. She filled you in on the issue—most of the specifics went over your head, but it didn’t sound good—then gave you the prognosis, “We plugged everything back up. He’ll have a headache for a few days, and needs to take it easy for the next week. But other than that, he’ll be fine.”
“Really?” You couldn’t believe your ears.
“How far medicine has come, huh?” She chuckled. “Something like that would’ve killed him a decade ago. But he can go on like it never happened now.”
You looked over at where Quebec’s eyes were still closed, still unable to calm your panicked heart despite the doctor’s reassuring words and relaxed demeanor. “When will he wake up?”
“An hour or so.” She nodded towards the door. “If there’s nothing else, I’ve got a couple other patients to check on.”
“Oh, go for it.”
“Push the call button if you need anything, or just holler. Small infirmary, someone will hear you.”
With her departure, it was just you and Quebec. You pulled the chair up to his bedside, gathering your knees to your chest in a self-soothing grasp. His heart monitor beeped steadily in the background, and you noticed that his hand was hanging off the bed a little bit, so you reached forward to pick it up and rest it over his abdomen like his other one. There was a small piece of gauze affixed under his ear, and you recognized it as the ear that had been bleeding earlier.
“I’m never letting you live this down, Quebec,” you stated through a sniffle. “Every time you bring up that Tanker showing up while I was at the vending machine, I’m going to bring up you passing out while we were in the middle of landing an ambassador’s ship.”
He continued resting, chest rising up and down.
“So you better wake up soon, so I can start teasing you.” You poked his shoulder before taking your hand back and wrapping your arm around your knees again.
For the first time since you entered Tower 2, you took a moment to process what Quebec actually looked like. Dark brown hair, bangs falling out of the way of his forehead and pieces curling around his ears, and a freckle under his right eyebrow.
You sighed, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Of all the times you’d let yourself daydream about finally meeting Quebec in person, this was absolutely not how it went. Usually, it was something like bumping into each other while you were switching crew cabins, or you just so happened to go to a more centrally located place to eat and started talking to a handsome stranger and found out that it was him. Funny enough, you never thought of actually asking Quebec to hang out off-shift. You were more than happy with what you had, fully content with the knowledge that nobody in the universe knew him better than you, and vice versa. So what if other people knew what he looked like or knew his real name? That never felt important.
Before you realized it, your eyes were fluttering shut, your ears continuing to listen to the rhythm of the vitals monitor. Eventually, a confused grunt caught your attention, and you looked up quickly.
Quebec was hesitantly squinting one eye open, rubbing his other as he seemed to be struggling to adjust to the bright lights in the room. You stayed quiet as you let him wake up a little more and acclimate, getting two eyes open and blinking as he registered first the hospital gown he was wearing and infirmary bed he was laying in, then did a sweep around the room, brown gaze landing on you.
“Hey, Bec,” you greeted him gently, offering a small smile. “How do you feel?”
“Zu?” His voice was hoarse, gaze unblinking as he reached a hand towards you.
“Yeah, it’s me,” you confirmed, taking his hand between both of yours. “You had uhm, a problem. The doctor can explain—But you’re better now.”
He clutched his head, and you winced sympathetically.
“Your head will hurt for a bit, but other than that, all better,” you corrected yourself. “You feel okay?”
He nodded, sitting up a little straighter. “You came all the way here?”
“You passed out in the middle of us landing the ambassador’s ship,” you told him frankly, a hint of teasing in your tone. But your voice wavered as you added, “I was worried sick. Found you on the floor of the tower.”
“Ah, sorry. Thank you.” He squeezed your hand.
“No way I was going to let you die, Quebec. I mean—What if they started putting me with Indy instead?”
He was just staring at you, mouth parted, before a soft smile came across his features, two dimples marking his cheeks. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?” You chuckled nervously.
“That you’d be the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.”
You covered your face as you laughed and shook your head. “Quebec—”
“Kun.”
“What?”
“That’s my real name,” he hummed. “Qian Kun.”
“Kun,” you sighed fondly. “I knew you’d have dimples.”
“What?” He giggled, touching one of his cheeks. “You could hear my dimples?”
“It was a hunch.”
He looked down at the IV in his arm. “They’ve got me on some good stuff.”
“Yeah, they do,” you agreed.
“I mean it, though.”
“Mean what?”
Kun turned over on his side to face you. “You’re beautiful, Zulu.”
You traced the lines of his brows, his freckle, his eyes, his nose, the curve of his smile, his cupid’s bow, and his jaw with your eyes. “Y/N. That’s my name. Y/L/N Y/N.”
He mouthed it to himself first, slowly, then said it aloud, “Y/N. Thank you.”
“I’m really glad you’re okay, Kun.” You pressed a fleeting kiss to his hand that you were still holding. “Really.”
You kicked your feet up on the desk, tapping your toes in the air along to an imaginary beat. Clicking your internal comms line on, you asked, “So what are you doing after this?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kun immediately teased back.
“Yeah, that’s why I asked, asshole,” you scoffed.
“Ouch, first day back on the job and this is how I’m treated?”
“Doctor said you’re fine, no need to throw yourself a pity party.”
He laughed, but answered your question nevertheless. “Gym and then dinner. Missed enough required exercise thanks to that little incident I’m going to start withering away.”
“I’ll have to find another archnemesis if you do.”
“So I am your archnemesis.” His grin was audible, and you could perfectly imagine it now, bright and dimpled. “Well, I can’t have you thinking about anybody else.”
You looked over your shoulder before offering, “Want some company?”
“Sure. Sector 1?”
“Damn, you really that afraid of withering away you’re willing to come all the way over here?”
“I was being a gentleman—”
“Wait, your favorite restaurant is in the Sector 1 food court,” you said knowingly. “Would that have anything to do with it?”
“It’s a win-win—you don’t have to come all the way over here, I get to see you…”
“And eat at your favorite spot,” you snickered. “Smart, Bec.”
“I would’ve offered even if I hated all the food in Sector 1, Zu,” he declared dramatically. “Hand on my heart.”
Despite knowing each other’s real names, it was still habit (and technically proper) to use call names on shift. You checked on him every day during his recovery over the past week, so you’d gotten used to calling him Kun as well.
“Uh-huh,” you agreed mildly. “I’ll meet you in the gym at 1630 then.”
“It’s a date.”
After getting through your mandatory workout for the day, you and Kun meandered over to the Sector 1 food court. Despite your teasing, you also got food from the same restaurant as him. He didn’t move to take a seat in the food court, however, jerking his head for you to follow him. With your bag of food in one hand, you did so, intrigued. Kun apparently had a destination in mind, weaving through the crowds with intention and reaching back to grab your free hand to not lose you.
Soon, you arrived at a crew-only observation deck devoid of other people. You couldn’t recall if you had been to this particular one before, but the door slid shut behind you two and the sounds of the rest of the ship faded away. This particular deck was pointed directly at a large plasma cloud, glowing with energy and all sorts of swirling pinks, purples, and greens.
“Oh, this is beautiful,” you gushed, sitting on the ledge under the window.
“I like seeing how the cloud has changed whenever I’m in Sector 1,” Kun said, sitting next to you. “It’s different every time.”
You drew your gaze over to him, eyes catching on the faint line under his ear, marking where he’d been operated on just last week. It had healed very fast, of course, as all surgeries now did, and you reached out to touch the skin under it with a fingertip. “Do you feel okay, Kun?”
“Brand new.” He took your hand from the incision and laced your fingers together. “I promise, Y/N.”
“Good.” The two of you ate your dinner like that, hand-in-hand, watching the plasma cloud and stars, sometimes talking, and sometimes in silence. And that was more than enough.
The room is bathed in hues of soft purples and blues, the LED lights casting a dreamy glow over the walls. The faint clicking of keyboard keys and the low hum of Heeseung’s whisper-shouts to his teammates fill the space, blending into a comforting symphony of white noise.
You stir slightly under the warm covers, eyes fluttering open as they adjust to the dim, soothing light. The sight of Heeseung, focused with his headset on, his jaw set in concentration as he leans toward his monitor, brings a small, sleepy smile to your lips.
His voice is low but animated, a quiet “Yah, Jungwon, watch your flank!” slipping through as you shift slightly in his bed. You don’t mind the noise—it’s almost familiar at this point, a part of the routine. This is how he unwinds after a long day, and knowing he’s here, just a few feet away, makes your chest feel warm.
The match ends, and Heeseung leans back in his chair with a satisfied huff, stretching his arms. Before he can load into another game, you wordlessly shuffle out of the bed, your feet barely making a sound against the floor as you walk over to him.
He blinks in surprise when you plop down onto his lap, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and burying your face into his shoulder. “Game over?” you mumble, your voice still heavy with sleep.
He chuckles softly, his hands automatically settling on your waist. “For now,” he whispers, a gentle grin spreading across his face. “Did I wake you up?”
You shake your head lazily, your cheek pressing against his hoodie. “No… Just wanted to be closer to you.”
His heart swells, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re gonna fall asleep here, huh?”
“Mmhm,” you hum, already drifting again.
Heeseung laughs quietly, leaning his chin against your head. “Guess I’ll carry you back to bed later. For now… stay here, sleepyhead.”
And he lets you, keeping his voice even softer for the rest of the night, his game suddenly feeling a little less important with you in his arms.
