Hongjoong quietly steps into the room after hours of working in the studio, expecting to see you awake. Instead, he finds you curled up on the couch, a blanket half-falling off your shoulder with a book resting on your chest.
His heart instantly softens.
He carefully removes the book, adjusts the blanket over you, and gently brushes a strand of hair from your face.
"You waited for me again..." he whispers with a fond smile.
He can't resist taking a quick picture (for himself only) before sitting beside you, continuing his work quietly so he doesn't wake you.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
"home isn't always a place. sometimes it's a person who noticed you're hurting before you say a word."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
the apartment smelled of garlic, butter and freshly chopped herbs.
Wooyoung stood at the shove in an oversized black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, humming absentmindedly as he stirred a pot of creamy pasta sauce. every now and then he'd dance across the kitchen for no reason other than the music he had in his head.
normally you'd laugh, normally he'd catch you watching and spin you into an impromptu dance around the kitchen until dinner nearly burned.
tonight...
the apartment was quiet, too quiet.
he glanced over his shoulder toward the living room.
you were curled up on the sofa beneath a blanket, staring at the television that hadn't been turned on. you're mug of tea sat untouched beside you, long since gone cold.
you hadn't smiled all day. you hadn't complained either. that worried him even more.
Wooyoung turned the stove to low before wiping his hands on a tea towel. "hey"
you looked up with a small smile that never quite reached your eyes.
"hey"
"you've been watching a blank screen for fifteen minutes."
"...have I?"
he nodded gently, instead of teasing you, he walked over and crouched infront of the sofa. his warm hands rested lightly over yours.
"talk to me"
you looked away, the ache pulling tightly in your chest, you couldn't bare to see the hurt behind his eyes.
"I don't really know how"
"that's okay"
The silence stretched between you, not uncomfortable. patient.
finally, your voice broke.
"my heads just...loud"
his expression softened immediately, "you don't have to explain every though"
"I feel exhausted"
"I know"
"I keep pretending that I'm okay, because I don't want to ruin the mood"
he reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair away from your face. "you could never ruin the mood"
a tear left your eyes before you could stop it. "I'm sorry"
Wooyoung shook his head, "don't apologise for needing comfort"
he stood and held out his hand. "come here"
without a word, you slipped your hand into his, his hand squeezing reassuringly as he guided you both into the kitchen, where the sauce simmered quietly on the stove.
"you know what this kitchen is missing?"
you sniffled, wiping your face with the sleeve of his hoodie that swamped you as you watched.
"what?"
"my assistant"
"id probably burn everything"
he grinned, a smile that pulled tightly on your heart.
"exactly, wed burn it together"
a small laugh slipped out.
"there you are"
he smiled like he'd just won a prize. he handed you a wooden spoon.
"official taste tester"
you dipped the spoon into the sauce, taking a small sip of the sauce, the creaminess and smell invading your senses. "its good"
"good?"
he placed a dramatic hand over his heart, almost like you had offended him.
"I was expecting life changing"
"its edible"
he gasped, a hand flying to his mouth, eyes wide as if he had been shot. "I can't believe ive been betrayed in my own kitchen"
you laughed again, this one came a little easier. satisfied, Wooyoung turned back to the stove. as he stirred the pasta, you drifted closer until your forehead rested gently against his shoulder.
he didn't say anything, he simply leaned into you. His hand found yours automatically, his thumb tracing slow circles across your knuckles. "I'm really glad youre here" he whispered.
you closed your eyes. "so am I"
when dinner was finally finished, neither of you hurried to eat. Instead, Wooyoung wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you toward the couch.
the apartment glowed with warm lamplight, casting a calming orange glow across the living room and shrouding you both in a warmth you didn't know you both needed.
Rain tapped against the windows, you settled beside him, instinctively curling closer until your cheek rested against the side of his neck. His heartbeat was slow and steady beneath your ear, the sound alone calming the raging storm that you had been battling all day, without thinking, your fingertips drifted along the ink along the back of his neck. The words lined so beautifully against his skin, you moved your fingers along the words allowing them to soak into your soul.
"I'm never alone, and I never will be" a quote that made your heart ache almost spilling out of your chest. Wooyoung smiled. "my tattoos again?"
you nodded.
"they're grounding"
He turned slightly so you could see his arm more clearly, the artwork winding across his skin caught the warm light, every line and curve one you knew by heart. you gently traced the design with your fingertips. slowly, carefully, almost like following a map back home.
"they help" you admitted quietly.
"how?"
"they remind me you're real"
his eyes softened, the softness pouring from his eyes. "and that you're here."
he lifted your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "I'm not going anywhere"
The words settled over you like another blanket, safe, warm.
you shifted closer until your legs tangled together beneath the throw blanket. Wooyoung wrapped both arms around you, holding you against his chest without squeezing too tightly.
his chin rested lightly on top of your head, for several quiet minutes, neither of you spoke. you simply listened to his breathing, felt the rise and fall of his chest.
Tracing the ink along his forearm whenever your thoughts threatened to spiral again. Each familiar line gave your mind something gentle to focus on.
a reminder that you weren't alone.
Wooyoung titled your chin upward until your eyes met his. "you know what I see?"
"what?"
"someone who's been carrying too much by themselves"
fresh tears welled in your eyes, he brushed them away with his thumb. "you don't have to carry it alone anymore"
you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. The kiss that followed was slow and hurried, full of affection much rather than urgency. When you both pulled back, he smiled against your lips.
"I love taking care of you" he murmured. "and I love that you let me"
You smiled for the first time all day, a real smile this time.
outside the rain continued to fall, a steady rhythmic beat against the windows. inside, dinner could wait a few more minutes.
Right now, the only thing that mattered was the warmth of his embrace the familiar touch of ink beneath your fingertips, and the quiet certainty that love didn't always need grand gestures.
sometimes...
it looked like a shared meal, a soft kiss, a steady heartbeat.
and someone who stayed close enough for you to remember how to breathe.
"some days you don't need to be strong, you just need someone willing to stay until you remember how to smile again"
─ ·✶· ─ · ·· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·· · ─ ·✶· ─
the bathroom felt colder than the rest of the building, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead casting a pale glow across the white tiles, while the steady drip of a leaky tap filled the silence between your uneven breaths.
you told everyone you just needed a minute, one minute turned into five, five then became twenty. now you're sat curled up on the closed toilet seat, knees pulled tight to your chest. you're forehead resting on your arms as the tears fell from your eyes faster than you could wipe them away.
you hated this, you hated crying, the ache in your chest pulling so taught you was sacred that your heart would pull its way through you're ribcage and fall onto the floor in front of you. you hated the weight the feeling of everything on your back keeping you in place.
worst of all you hated how you felt the need to hide it, to shy away from feeling anything remotely humane towards anyone, fear wracking its way up you're throat choking you as you let the tears fall, venerability at its finest.
outside the bathroom you heard the footsteps echoing before stopping completely, then came the soft knock.
"...hey?"
you're breath caught, the low rumble of his voice unmistakable. you knew that voice instantly. Mingi.
another gentle knock wrapped against the door. "I know you're in here"
you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the person behind the door knowing deep down that even this exercise was futile. "I brought snacks" he added after a second.
Silence.
"...okay, I lied"
another beat of silence. "I forgot the snacks"
despite yourself, the corner of your mouth twitched. another soft murmur coming through the door.
"I did bring... emotional support"
still nothing, you couldn't bring yourself to move, the weight bearing down on you as you stayed in place.
another comment, "and incredible looks"
you let out the smallest huff of laughter. from outside the bathroom came a excited gasp. "there it is!"
you slapped your hand over your mouth. "I knew I could get a least one laugh"
slowly, your shaking hand reached for the lock, the click sounded louder than it should have, the bathroom door opened just enough for Mingi to peek inside.
his playful grin faded the moment he saw you're tear stained cheeks and swollen eyes.
"oh"
his shoulders softened, instead of asking what happened or trying to fill the silence with questions, he quietly stepped inside the bathroom and lowered himself onto the cool floor in front of you. he leaned against the bath side the coolness making him gasp a little as he let out a dramatic sigh.
"you know..."
he looked around the bathroom. "this is probably the worst concert venue I have ever performed in"
you sniffled, wiping the tears from your nose. "the acoustics are terrible"
"...mingi"
"and the audience looks like they've had a rough day"
a tiny smile appeared before you could stop it. he noticed immediately.
"oh, were making progress" he gave himself a small round of applause. you rolled your eyes.
"you're impossible"
"I've been told I'm an acquired taste"
"I don't think anyone said that"
"they didn't have to"
the silence returned, this time it didn't feel empty. it felt shared.
after a while, you're voice came out barely above a whisper. "I don't even know why I'm crying anymore"
mingi nodded as if that made perfect sense. "sometimes our hearts know were overwhelmed before our minds catch up"
another tear escaped, "I'm just...tired"
"I know"
"it feels like my brain won't stop"
he looked down at his hands for a brief moment. "I've had days where my thoughts were so loud, I forgot what quiet sounded like"
you glanced at him. "so..."
He suddenly clapped once, making you jump. "ive diagnosed the situation"
"you...diagnosed it?"
he stood up dramatically, straightened his hoodie, and cleared his throat like he was about to perform in front of thousands.
"this..."
he pointed towards the ceiling. "...is an emergency freestyle"
"oh no"
"oh yes"
he tapped a beat against his chest. unfortunately... it sounded absolutely awful. you stared.
"that's the beat?"
he nodded proudly. "its experimental"
"it sounds broken"
"its art"
before you could respond, he began rapping with complete confidence.
"yo.."
"someone told my favourite person they're not enough..."
"well, whoever said that better pack their stuff..."
"negative thoughts wanna run the show..."
"too bad, I came here to steal the microphone..."
you bit your lip, he kept going.
"mirror talking nonsense? tell it to hush..."
"self doubt acting bold? that's a little too much..."
"if you're smile went missing, don't worry, well see..."
"ive got enough bad dance moves for both you and me"
a laugh escaped you, a real one. Mingi froze dramatically. his eyes widened.
"I GOT ONE!"
His arms shot into the air like he'd just won an award.
"the crowd goes wild!"
"there isn't a crowd"
"there is now"
he gestured toward the empty bathroom. "thank you, thank you, ill be here all week"
you laughed harder, shaking your head.
"there it is" he said softly, smiling now. "that's the smile I was looking for"
when the laughter settled, he sat back leaning against bath again infront of you.
no pressure, no expectations. just company.
"I don't want you to think you have to hide when things get heavy" he said quietly.
you stared at the floor.
"I feel like a burden"
"you aren't"
"I cry too much"
"you've been carrying a lot"
"I should be stronger"
he shook his head. "you don't earn kindness by pretending you're okay"
the words settled gently between you. "you deserve people who'll sit with you on the bathroom floor, even when you can't find the words."
a fresh tear rolled down your cheek, not because you were hurting, but because for the first time today... you didn't feel alone.
Mingi reached into his hoodie pocket and smiled. "I did lie earlier"
"you forgot the snacks?"
"I forgot most of the snacks"
he pulled out a slightly squished packet of gummy bears. "I protected these with my life"
you laughed. "they look like they've been through war"
"they're survivors"
he poured half into your hand without hesitation, then he gently nudged you. "you don't have to be okay today" his voice was barely above a whisper.
"you just don't have to go through today, by yourself."
outside the world carried on as nothing had happened. inside this bathroom, surrounded by cold tiles and quiet echoes, something changed.
not because the sadness disappeared. not because everything was suddenly fixed. but because one ridiculous rapper refused to leave.
and in the silence that followed...
the only thing louder than your thoughts was the beat that Mingi kept tapping against his knee.
"The North Star never asks the lost why they wandered. It simply shines, so they know they're not alone."
────۶ৎ────────۶ৎ────────۶ৎ────────۶ৎ────────۶ৎ
some days were easier than others, the weight of the world feeling heavy on your shoulders as you walked around, everything just slightly out of focus, out of reach.
Today wasnt one of those, it weighed heavier than usual, the gloominess of the weather adding to the tension that had made its home in between your shoulders. The haze filling your head as you tried to keep yourself together.
You hadnt left your apartment in three days, the curtains remained closed, sheilding you from the world. Half finished mugs of tea laid across the living room, books laid open staring at the ceiling, and your phone had long stopped buzzing.
You stopped answering, no matter who it was, friends, family.
Even Seonghwa.
not because you didnt want too talk to them, but because you couldnt find the energy to explain why exsisting felt exhausting.
Your world had become painfully small.
Wake up, stare at the ceiling, sleep, repeat.
Until...
KNOCK
You ignored it, another knock.
Then a familar voice drfiting through the silence of your apartment.
"I know youre home"
Silence.
"i brought coffee"
Still nothing.
"and those strawberry pasteries you pretend you dont like"
Despite the heaviness on your shoulder, the weight of guilt lining your stomach, your lips twitched.
"you smiled didnt you?"
you sighed, moving slowly closer to the door. "Maybe"
"ill take maybe"
Slowly you opened the door, the moment it opened, seonghwas shoulders visably relaxed, he didnt comment on the dark circles that had lined your eyes, the oversized hoodie that drowned your frame, the same one that you had been wearing for the past three days. He didnt even glance around the untidy apartment. He simply smiled.
"hi"
"...hi"
"i was starting to miss your face"
"you saw me four days ago"
"exactly"
His smile widened.
"far too long"
you both fell into a familiar movement, his presence easing a tiny fraction of the weight from you. You wouldnt admit that out loud though.
Seonghwa noticed the slight shift and didnt question, he simply held up two takeaway cups.
"i need your help"
You frowned. "with what"
"i cant decide where to drive"
"..drive"
"..mhm"
"you came here to ask me for directions?"
"no"
He grinned. "i came here to steal you"
you blinked, his smile still plastered on his face as he sipped his coffee.
"what"
"ive packed lunch"
"you what?"
"i filled the car with snacks"
"Seonghwa"
"i even remembered the sour sweets you only eat when youre stressed"
Your heart ached, the heavy drum beating lowly in your chest.
"you noticed?"
"i always notice"
His voice was gentle, no accusation, no pressure. "youve been disspearing a little at a time"
Silence fell between you both, covering the apartment again.
"So"
he held out his hand.
"come dissapear somewhere prettier"
Seonghwa intertwined your fingers together, his shoulders held the bags that he rushed around the apartment packing, even your comfort plushie had found its way into his tight grip. He walked with you, not pulling, not rushing just simply allowing you the chance to follow through with this.
He didnt have any destination in mind, no schedule, no expectations. Something he also quietly wished for, time was a concept now, and he made this desicion to spend it with you, to create a memory that would settle deep into his being beyond his time on earth.
You both got into the car, bags thrown in and the heater turned on, the feeling causing you to groan a little the tension leaving, melting away from you with each passing minute you spent with each other.
He drove, roads you both had never driven before. Somewhere between the city and the coastline, Seonghwa reached over and quietly turned your phone onto Do Not Disturb before setting it back onto your lap.
"no one needs anything from you today"
You looked out the window. "what if they do"
"then"
He smiled without taking his eyes of the road. "they can wait until tomorrow"
for the first time in a few weeks, you actually let the words settle, you believed him.
You both pulled into a quiet secluded area, the cliff adorned with trees, a clear view of the sky, the horizon, the ocean spreading endlessly in front of you.
No sounds of the city, only the rhythmic sounds of the waves crashing against the shore. You watched as he pulled out a blanket from the boot, unfolding it and setting it down on the patch of grass. "You planned all of this"
He simply shrugged. "i hoped"
"hoped?"
"that you would say yes"
He unpacked the food, sandwiches, fruit, pastiries, a thermos of hot chocolate depsite the mugginess of the weather. He knew it comforted you. and lastly a small disposable camera laid on the blanket.
"you brought a camera?"
"i want proof?"
"proof of what?"
"that you smiled today"
you both spent time, silence cloaking you both as you took small bites of the food, your body easing slowly as you watched the waves pushing and pulling against the shore. Evetually you turned, your gaze falling onto seonghwa.
"I dont feel like myself anymore" you spoke softly, your gaze pulling back to the horizon, the night cloaking the world.
The words left your lips before you even had a chance to stop them. Seonghwa stayed quiet. Not because he didnt care. But because he wanted you to finish.
"i keep thinking tomorrow will be easier" you stared at the waves. "but tomorrow just becomes another today" your voice cracked.
"i dont know how to get back"
He looked at the horizon before speaking, "when i was little..." you turned towards him. "my mother taught me about the North Star."
you waited.
"She said sailors didnt expect it to calm the sea." his fingers found yours on the blanket. "they looked for it because, even on the darkest night, it reminded them which way home was" he intertwined your fingers with his. His thumb brushed over your knuckles.
"i cant make your storm disappear"
"i would never pretend that i can"
"but"
His eyes found yours. The night sky adorned in the dark orbs, the sentiment pulsing through him with each word, shining through his eyes.
"i can be the person who reminds you where home is until you find your own way again."
Tears slipped down your cheeks, not because the pain was gone. But because, for the first time in a long while...
You didnt feel like you had to carry it by yourself.
You looked towards the sky, the clouds parting leaving a beautiful sight of sparking stars, the winds blowing a little causing you to shiver slightly.
"i should probably take you home" seonghwa murmered.
"can we stay a little longer?"
He smiled, you moved closer to him, your head leaning against his shoulder, the blanket wrapped around you both watching the sky deepen from blue to black.
"There" he whispered. pointing upward.
You followed his finger until you found a single bright star shining steadily above the horizon.
"the north star"
"it doesnt look very different"
He smiled, "it isnt"
"so why does everyone talk about it?"
"because when everything else moves..."
He glanced at you, "...it doesnt"
You rested your head against his shoulder again. "I think..."
Your voice was barely above a whisper. "...Id like you to be my North Star"
Seonghwa was quiet for a moment, then he gently kissed the top of your head.
"Ill stay beside you as long as you need" he whispered. "and one day..."
He looked back up to the night sky.
"...when youre ready, youll realise you were never following me"
────♡────────♡────────♡────────♡───────────
"Some days aren't about winning.
Some days are simply about continuing."
────♡────────♡────────♡────────♡───────────
his cursor blinked, the game was still running, his character had stopped moving, standing idle in the middle of the map while his teammates complained through the headset.
"Yunho-ya, are you even playing?"
He smiled to himsef, before muting them again.
"no" he whispered. "im exactly where i need to be"
You hadnt noticed youd drifted off half asleep against his chest, you had crawled into his lap a while ago, your usual source of comfort not enough to sedate the ache that lingered heavy in your heart. You laid there against his chest for a while, your legs spread, dangling through the arms of his chair swinging idly as you become in tune with the rythm of his breathing, evening out the storm that had been brewing inside you for the entire day. You felt the weight of his hand against your head, his fingers ghosting along your hair.
The weight of the world weighing heavily in your chest hadnt magically disspeared. Tomorrow would probably still be diffcult. There would still be days where getting out of bed felt physically exhausting, nearing impossible.
Still days when your mind convinced you that you were too much, too broken, too tired.
But tonight...
You werent carrying it alone. Yunho pressed a gentle kiss against your temple before resting his cheek against the top of your head. "i know today was hard..." he murmured, not expecting you to answer. "and tomorrow might be hard too"
He intertwined his fingers with yours, giving your handa reassuring squeeze. "but we dont have to figure out tomorrow, tonight"
His voice was so soft you almost missed it. "well get thought this one first"
A sleepy hum escaped your lips as your fingers weakly squeezed his hand back. It made him smile.
The monitor continued to glow, casting the room in a smooth light as the game waited for him to pick up the controller again.
It could wait.
There would always be another match, another level, another chance to play.
But there would never be another version of this moment. Another chance to remind you that your were loved exactly the way you are.
He looked down at your peaceful face, brushing away the stray strand of hair behind your ear.
"if today is all you can manage" he whispered, "then today is enough"
you shifted impossibly closer without waking, instinctivly seeking the warmth of his embrace. Yunho wrapped his arms around you, holding you a little tighter.
Pairing:Mingi x 9th member reader (platonic)
Word Count: 1K
Genre: Angst
Warnings: None
Filming the first music video with the group brings up feelings that you struggle to deal with alone
The blinding lights sting your eyes as the director shouts, “Cut!” for the third time in as many minutes.
Your heartbeat thunders in your chest, so loud you’re sure the crew must hear it over the backing track. Sweat prickles at your hairline from the exertion of the scene, each take of you running across the dystopian set to reach the others looking awkward. You run a trembling hand carefully through your hair, trying to keep your breathing steady. The other members gather near the monitors, laughing, reviewing takes, but you can only hear your own harsh, shallow breaths. Seonghwa tosses you a warm and encouraging smile; Wooyoung flashes a thumbs-up, his toothy grin bright. You nod back, but it's stilted, and the gesture feels brittle like glass about to shatter.
You shouldn’t be here; you are never going to be good enough to be here. That’s the thought that gnaws at you between scenes as each of the other members does their individual shot, the ease of it proving to you that your skills are below the bar. You shouldn’t be here, surrounded by eight professionals, their every movement sharp and polished, their charisma burning through the lens. You’re the outsider, the one who stumbles over choreography, whose body tembles in the group shots, whose hands won’t stop shaking.
The assistant director had asked you to try to act more seductively in your scene with BBT, but you barely knew them, and it came off unnatural. You had been directed to smoulder at the camera, but you felt like you just looked angry. Each cut just made you feel more worthless, more unworthy.
“Take five!” the director calls, and the set dissolves into scattered clusters of chatter. You drift to the edge of the soundstage, sitting on the cold concrete while hugging your knees to your chest, your chest constricting painfully. You close your eyes, but the thoughts won’t stop. You know you are starting to spiral; your breathing is getting shallower, faster, desperate. They’re going to regret choosing you. You’re ruining the shot. You’re slowing everyone down. The fans will see it, too: how you don’t fit, how you’re not enough, how you are ruining the very thing they love.
The scrape of heavy boots on concrete interrupts your inner spiralling, and you look up. Mingi stands over you, hands shoved into his pockets, his hair damp from sweat and falling into his eyes. He doesn’t sit right away, just shuffles awkwardly, toeing the ground with his boot, glancing back at the scattered camera equipment and the other members. Finally, he lowers himself to the floor beside you, his presence huge but gentle.
For a moment, neither of you speaks. You pick at the scuffed floor, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “You okay?” Mingi asks, his voice lower than usual, almost hesitant as he looks at the clothes rack not far from you both.
You force a smile, but it falters before it reaches your eyes. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.” The words sound forced, but you both know that they are.
Mingi snorts, not unkindly. “You know, that’s the same thing I used to tell the others. But it’s never just tired, is it?”
You glance at him, surprised by the raw honesty in his voice. He’s staring ahead, jaw clenched, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.
“I used to get so scared before filming,” he continues, voice barely above a whisper. “Like… everyone’s watching and waiting for you to mess up. Like you don’t belong. Like you’re going to ruin everything for everyone else. I thought those feelings would go away, but they never really do. You just learn how to carry them.”
You swallow, something dislodging in your chest. “How do you handle it?” you ask, your voice timid and cracking despite yourself. “The fear, the… the not being enough?”
Mingi sighs, a sound heavy with old pain that still lives deep within him. “Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I just survive it. I get through the day, the shoot, the performance, even if my brain is screaming at me that I’m not enough. And sometimes I talk to the others. Or I just… let myself feel it, even when it hurts.”
He turns to you, eyes warm and searching. “You’re not alone in this. We all have those days. You’re not ruining anything. You’re learning. You’re growing. That’s all any of us can do.” He places one large hand over one of yours, squeezing it gently despite the fact it was trembling.
You blink hard, trying to keep the tears from spilling. The weight in your chest eases, just slightly. It’s not gone, but it feels shared now. Less like a punishment, more like a burden you don’t have to carry alone. Maybe with Mingi you can carry the doubt a little bit more easily.
Mingi nudges your shoulder with his. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just need to be real. That’s what people connect with. That’s what makes you part of Ateez.”
You let out a shaky breath, your hands finally stilling. The lights don’t seem so harsh now, and the set not so overwhelming. The voices of your members, your chosen family, echo nearby, familiar and grounding. San was running from Wooyoung holding what looked like a packet of chips, Yunho was filming some choreography to be released on Tik Tok later. Hongjoong was talking to the director. You realize that none of the look disappointed or burdened by your presence. You’re still scared almost witless. Still unsure of yourself and your ability. But for the first time all day, you believe, just a little, that maybe you do belong here. That maybe, with time, you can learn to carry the weight and still stand tall.
The director calls everyone back to set. Mingi stands and offers you his hand. You take it, and together, you walk back into the light for another group choreography shot.
“You have totally got this”, Mingi whispers lowly as he steps onto his mark.
You nod with resolve, taking a fortifying breath before the director signals for the cameras to get ready for the shot.
a/n: Thank you for reading my lovelies your support, likes, reblogs, comments and endless love give me the will to live in a major way xxx
Hi, can I request ateez 9th member poly? One reader gets injured on stage? Maybe one when reader is rehearsing her solo for the concert and the crew didn’t check her stage as she gets on the platform she tells the stage crew it’s wobbly but they insist it’s fine but reader ends up getting injured but the boys get upset when they found out what happened and postpones the concert to take care of reader?
thank you so much for the request!!! i hope you like it!
wc: 1.9k
genre: 9th member, poly ateez, hongjoong focused, hurt/comfort, angst, negative self-talk, depictions of minor injury (cuts, bruises, fractures), angsty and negaive thoughts around medical recovery, the boys get m a d
------------
when you stepped on the platform during the initial walk through, it shook just enough for you to notice. you remember how you'd paused and called over your shoulder to your manager, "i think this needs tightening or something" before you'd continued onto the next part of the planning stage.
the second time, during a rehearsal, when it shook more, you'd frowned and said it again. your manager had furrowed her eyebrows and assured you that she had passed it on to the stadium’s production team and it should have been done by now. you watched her speak to someone with an ear piece and assumed it was handled.
This should have been fixed.
That was your thought when the ground collapsed underneath you with a bang. one moment you were preparing for your solo and the next you were looking at the ceiling. there was a ringing in your ears that seemed to match a pulsing at the back of your head and when you blinked, the light above you went fuzzy.
there were voices, muffled as if they were underwater, and then blurry faces appeared. yeosang, eyes furrowed and mouth moving but you couldn't quite hear what he said. then seonghwa's face appeared next to him, pretty eyes widened in terror.
why are you looking at me like that? you tried to ask but you weren't sure if you did. you tried to reach out, hands rising to touch the curve of their faces, to touch their bottom lips and tug away the frown, but your arms wouldn't cooperate.
when you turned your head, the world came rushing back and it hurt. you choked on a sob, a pained noise as the feeling spread, wrapping itself along your head, your neck, your back.
Somewhere beyond, Jongho and Wooyoung were shouting for medics and Yunho - angry in a way you hadn't heard before - was shouting about that fucking platform.
San was above you now, hands hovering like he wanted to touch but was too scared to. His voice stumbled over your name. "Don't move, okay baby? Just keep still - help is coming."
Mingi had nearly crashed into Seonghwa, shoulders bumping, eyes already wet. "fuck, fuck, fuck."
"My head hurts," you rasped, voice thick even to your own ears.
it was a bit of a blur after that, you'd admit. your boys were pushed aside for unfamiliar faces, equally terrified, and lights and voices sounding orders. it was hard to concentrate on anything for too long, painful to focus and making you feel nauseous.
"don't fall asleep, okay?" one of the medics told you but with each passing second, you were finding it hard to keep. Surely it would be fine for you to close your eyes, just for a moment.
-
Hongjoong had been angry before. he argued with his brother growing up. He'd been endlessly frustrated with his group members, especially as they learnt to be around each other. he'd argued with producers and show runners to ensure that ATEEZ, as an increasingly popular group, got the respect they had earned.
he didn't think he'd been this angry before.
no, it wasn't quite angry. that was the wrong word.
infuriated. bloodthirsty.
devastated.
every time he closed his eyes, Hongjoong was watching you fall in slow motion. you were laughing with one of the back up dancers, in the middle of the staging walk through, your eyes sparkling happy and full of joy at whatever the dancer had said.
and then the ground was gone from underneath you, and the dancer was gripping on to the bannisters to stop herself from falling on top of you.
it wasn't a high drop, a few meters but enough. enough that you landed with a sickening crack. enough that you couldn't move at first, frozen in shock by the impact. enough that the stadium medics had made the call for the ambulance.
He wanted to be with you but as far as the world was concerned, he wasn’t the one you were dating. None of them were, the secret kept tightly amongst those well trusted. So your manager had gripped your hand and followed the paramedics, promising to call as soon as she heard anything from the doctor.
Which left the eight of them tense, adrift and full of uncontainable rage because -
“I thought that platform was supposed to be fixed,” Hongjoong said, turning his dark gaze to the first of the venue staff around him. The poor guy was clearly an intern and in his right mind, he would have recognised that any promised maintenance wasn’t the man’s responsibility. But he wasn’t in his right mind and anyone wearing a blue lanyard was in the firing range for his ire.
The kid stumbled over excuses, slowly raising the clipboard in front of them like a shield. “I...I... it was on the repair list.”
Mingi stepped forward this time, eyes still wet, jaw tense and words even tighter as he bit out, “so you let us step on there knowing it was broken? She could fucking die.”
Yunho’s arm slid around Mingi’s chest when he took a step forward, a physical barrier to stop him from closing the gap between them and the intern, and getting on the news for beating someone into the floor. He didn’t look pleased about it though, the expression of the usually happy man descended into darkness as he stared forward.
“Fuck this,” Wooyoung said, voice wet from inside San’s protective hold. His face was blanketed in painful rage. “I’m not performing here tonight.”
“Or ever again,” San added in agreement, tense, barely holding back.
One of the producers, who had been white with shock, hidden at the back of the gathering crowd, jerked forward. “W-wait, you can’t do that! We have a contract.”
Jiyeun, their group management, pinned the man to the spot. His voice was calm, uncomfortably so, and laced with ice. “I don’t think you’re in the position to discuss contracts right now.”
“But the fans,” they tried to say. Hongjoong knew what the producers was thinking of - the refunding of tickets that would affect their budget, the anger of fans who has been cancelled on last minute, the future contracts with different musicians that no doubt would go up in smoke if this event came to light.
And it would come to light, if he had anything to say about it.
“We’ll handle our fans,” he said, sharp, unrelenting, “and you can point us to the exit.”
-
You opened your eyes and flinched at the invasive press of fluorescent lights. You jerked back into pillows and whined at the sharp pain that latticed its way through your body.
Hands reached for you, long fingers curling around your shoulder. “Whoa, don’t move baby,” the voice urged. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
You squinted one eye. “...Yu?”
The tall man offered you a watery smile. “Yeah baby, it’s me.”
Next to him, San’s head popped up, eyes red rimmed but smile blinding. “Hey pretty girl.”
“What happened?” you asked and then immediately were stuck with a fuzzy memory. Laughing, walking up the stairs, to performance - then staring up at the ceiling and the bright stage lights blurred in front of you. You fell, you recalled.
“Fuck,” you jerked. Large hands smoothed across your stomach, held onto your hips and your name fell from familiar lips.
“If you move too much,” Jongho said, “they’ll kick us out.”
“You don’t know how many strings we had to pull to get in here,” Wooyoung added, a joke delivered with such shakiness that you knew he must have been worried sick.
You made yourself still, muscles tensing as your mind whirled. “I can’t believe I actually fell.”
“Believe it,” Seonghwa spoke this time, voice a horrible mess of relief and anguish.
You turned your head to them, to all of them and took in the state of them. They were still dressed in their first stage outfits but half their make up was done. Mingi was completely bare faced, hair slicked away from his face, while Yunho had a soft blush blended across the bridge of his nose. Jongho had yanked the tight collar away from his neck, letting it fall open haphazardly. You noticed how wet their eyes were, red in the corners. Yeosang’s bottom lip was bitten raw, the red hue in the centre noticeable.
“Are...you okay?” you asked hesitantly.
Hongjoong huffed a laugh, disbelieving. “Are we okay? Are you okay? You’re the one who got hurt.”
“Well, I’m awake,” you pointed out, “Unless I’m dreaming?”
“You dream about us?” Mingi teased, tired and more out of reflex than anything else.
“In my nightmares,” you retorted, just as instinctively.
San let out a strangled noise. “Oh, she’s fine.” yet when he reached out to touch your cheek, his fingers pressed into your skin so gently you could have cried.
“What did the doctors say?” you asked and then added, “wait, are they even allowed to talk to you?”
“They spoke to the managers,” Hongjoong said, “and he told us. No brain swelling or skull fracturing, but you’ve got a hairline fracture in your spine.”
You winced. “That...sounds bad.”
“We’re lucky it's not worse,” Yunho murmured. We because you’ve always been a team.
You blinked and tears flooded your vision. Realisation of how close you came to something permanent and frustration for the future you settled heavy in your chest. All because of some stupid error, a memo that didn’t get prioritised, a warning that didn’t get listened to. A back with a fractured spine that you’ll need to rehab for a long while before you can take the stage again. Months of practice all up in smoke.
You wanted to scream but no doubt that would hurt you more.
You didn’t realise you were all out weeping until gentle hands brushed through the tear streaks. “Shush, baby, are you hurting? Do you need more painkillers?” Yeosang asked, so soft, so careful.
You hiccuped through a sob and then a wince when it pulled uncomfortably. “Yes please.”
Later, after the doctors had spoken to you, after your recovery schedule had been presented, after the boys and your managers had nodded in acceptance, already dedicated to helping you, Hongjoong pressed his forehead to your knuckles.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His breath was hot against your skin.
You wished you could reach across to slide your fingers into his hair, to seek and give comfort, but the doctor had warned against twisting your body in that kind of way. “It wasn’t you,” you said, firm, certain, “you don’t have to apologise.”
“I should have checked,” he insisted.
“I could have too,” you reminded, “I’m just sorry that all our hard work has gone to waste. I won’t be on stage with you for a while.” Your voice felt thick and you swallowed around the lump in your throat.
Hongjoong scoffed and shook his head. “What stage? There won’t be any until you can step on there with us.”
You know that isn’t true. You know that, even if the boys tried to push it, there would be a time where the CEO began to insist. Too many moving parts, too many expectations and consequences for broken contracts. At some time soon, your boys would board planes without you, perform without you, and you’d be home, alone, with your broken body and spiralling thoughts for company.
But for now, you let Hongjoong be right. “I love you,” your voice hitched as you said it and you shuddered, trying to breath through the ache in your chest.
Hongjoong pressed a hard kiss to the back of your hand, as if he could push all his pain and regrets into a single touch. “I love you too. We love you.”
genre: fluff, girl dad vernon cuz why not ;)
wc: <1k
a/n: welp, ig i'm sorry i kinda disappeared from here 😔 💔 personal life was busy, but im back, and i'll try to write more over here! i also wanna thank my friend for motivating me with the idea of girldad vernon. i owe you one 🥹 ✊🏼
It’s a rather quiet evening. Sunlight filters in through the bedroom windows. The curtains sway slightly from the gentle breeze that is flowing outside.
The house is quiet, save for whatever program is playing on the tv, long forgotten. Vernon is sitting on a sofa, and in his lap sits his three year old daughter Lily. Her face is scrunched in the kind of focus only toddlers her age could muster. Her hair is messy, stray strands covering her forehead—a result of the countless hours she spent playing around.
Vernon scrunches his face as Lily holds a bright red lipstick in her hands.
“Appa focus!” she says, leaning over, as she carefully presses it against his lips. Vernon goes perfectly still as he lets his daughter doodle on his face.
“Okay. just like this." She says, nodding her head as she squints her eyes at her dad.
Vernon sighs but the corner of his lips turn upwards, a small smile playing on his lips as he looks at his daughter fussing over his makeup. Your makeup is messed up in the vanity, a lip stick rolled down here, a mascara placed there. The makeup brushes are long forgotten on the floor at this point.
“You know your mama will not be too happy about this right?” Vernon asks his daughter as she attempts to stand in his lap. He feels lily dab a brush against his cheeks. Bright red powder falls on his t-shirt, and Vernon can't help the chuckle that escapes his lips as he looks at his situation.
“Look at this appa, you look so pretty.’ she states as she looks at the artwork she created on his face, nodding her head in approval.
“Hmm, Is that so?” Vernon asks Lily and she hums. “You look pretty just like mama” she states.
...............................
You don't know whether to laugh or cry. Standing in the door, the words of greeting die in your mouth when you look at the state of your bedroom.
“...and what do we have here?” you ask, stepping in, wincing as you take in the image of your husband. There he is, hair pulled in lopsided ponytails with glittery rainbow pins, lipstick smudged across his cheeks. And somehow he still looks so pretty?
The cause of this tiny chaos seems to recognize you there too, because she's grinning as she gets off Vernon's lap.
“Mama look! I did appa’s makeup!” she chirps.
“Oh did you now?’ you ask, glaring at Vernon and the tiny monster standing in front of you now.
“Ahm," Lily puffs out her chest. "I told appa he looks just as pretty as you do.” she says, as she proudly looks back at you, you scowl at Vernon and he raises his hands up in mock surrender.
“I can explain." he scrambles. "I was forced into it” he grins sheepishly, holding his hands up in surrender. and despite yourself, despite the mess on the table and that the lipstick was now practically useless, you can't help but let out a giggle.
The giggle turns into a full laugh the moment Vernon actually turns to look at the side mirror and you see the way realization hits him. He looks like a love struck mess.
“Oh you little devil." he says, grabbing your daughter as she tries to run away shrieking. You can't help as you take out your phone recording the whole thing because it's so silly. Yes you're mad that a mess was created but there is a sense of fondness as you look at the way Vernon laughs as his daughter tugs against his grip. Vernon grins back at you, his eyes turning into crescents.
Clearing your throat you put your phone back and walk over to them, Vernon immediately pulls you close, whispering a quiet “sorry for the mess.” as he places a small kiss against your head.
You merely shrug your shoulders as you sigh. “I don't mind if it makes you look this funny. It was funny." You add and Vernon smiles against your cheeks, as you both look over at your daughter who is now busy playing with her stuffed toys in the corner.
“But you do owe me a new lipstick though.” you frown at your husband.
"That was a given after the mess we made." Vernon says as he leans his head against your shoulders.
“And no more experiments with my makeup.” you hold your finger up, giving him your best glare.
“I make no promise," Vernon says, you lunge at him but he is quick, laughing as he suddenly runs off to where Lily is playing.
“Hey! Get back here, you need to clean the mess, " you yell behind him.
“Coming right up,” Vernon says, picking your daughter as he grabs a pack of wet wipes to clean the room.
And despite Vernon looking like a goofy ball, with your tiny menace of a daughter trailing right behind with her usual mischievous grin—you think you don't mind having your makeup ruined. You love your family and the cute mess they make. And you won't have it any other way.
In a way, you knew it was never going to work out.
Maybe you were simply naive. Optimistic, if you want to look at your current situation through a lighter lense. You could also say you were simply in love. Whatever hypothesis you tried to create, the outcome would always be the same: it didn't work out.
Mingi and you, that is. And idol and a normal person, as normal as it can get. Two people with a sea in between, different timezones and completely opposite lives. The only thing you had in common was how fast your heart beat whenever you managed to call each other. Besides the dearing affection and lovesick smile, nothing else connected the both of you.
You swear you tried to make that count. He did too, and you know it very well. Maybe love could overcome everything in the end.
Maybe it really can.
It just won't, not in your lives.
The love never faltered but the routine did. The phone stopped ringing and missing each other became a continuous truth rather than motivation. The gap became so big that no bridge was able to connect the both of you anymore.
You were still proud of him whenever you saw an ad with his face, it's just that you couldn't share his victories with him anymore. He still thought of you whenever he saw your favourite things, it's just that it wasn't possible for him to hear you talk about it for endless hours anymore.
It wasn't about will. It wasn't about love. It's just that, sometimes, you have to face things how they are instead of how you wished they were. Sometimes, you just lose.
Masterlist | you'll probably like: all this time
Daily click
Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!
sypnosis: Mingi had lots of talents, one of those being a good hugger. No matter where or when, he always had a type of hug stored for you.
word count: 0.4 k
author's note: This is just a cute headcanon about the types of hugs he would give. You can't tell me that our big boy wouldn't give the best hugs (˶>⩊<˶) I literally get cuteness-aggression whenever I see him — where is his bicep for me to bite?? Lol, anyway, I hope you guys enjoyyy!
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Soft!Mingi whose hands shook in nervousness the first time you hugged when you got together, holding tightly onto your shirt to assure himself that you were really his.
Soft!Mingi who had to hug something to sleep (aka you)— and when you tried to escape his grip in the morning he would just pull you back, cuddling you a tad bit tighter as he threw a leg over yours.
— "Mhhh....sweetheart....five more minutes, yeah?"
Soft!Mingi who made it a habit to hug you from behind when you cooked breakfast— his chin resting on top of your head as the grogginess still tugged at him, not being able to let you out of his arms quite yet.
Soft!Mingi who always put one arm over your shoulders when you were out with friends, a silent reassurance that he was there and yours.
Soft!Mingi who clung onto your arm with his head hiding in your hair as you ran through a "haunted house" in an amusement park, screeching every time one of the zombie actors came too close— completely scared out of his mind, but still needing to make sure you were by his side.
Soft!Mingi who loved to pick you up while you two hugged, carrying you to the couch where he could feel the comforting weight of you on his lap.
Soft!Mingi who couldn't bear to let go while hugging you goodbye when he had to leave for a tour, squeezing you tighter for a split second before finally releasing you.
Soft!Mingi who loved to lay on you while you watched tv, your chest acting as a soft pillow as he wrapped his arms around your torso.
— "Babyyyy....can you stroke my hair? pretty please?"
Soft!Mingi who let all of the stress go after a busy day in the studio, his shoulders drooping as his head came to a rest on your shoulder— pulling you closer by the loops of your jeans.
Soft!Mingi who cocooned you when you couldn't hold it in anymore after a bad day, one hand patting your back as the other found the crown of your head, pressing you into his chest— hoping that his familiar scent and presence would momentarily drown out your sorrows.
Soft!Mingi who ultimately didn't really care when and how you two hugged, as long he could touch you in some way.
Your car breaks down on day one of your dream road trip through Europe. Mingi, a stranger traveling the same way, offers you a ride. One impulsive decision turns into two weeks of tiny coastal towns, mountain roads, anime nights, stolen sunsets, and slowly falling in love with someone you were never supposed to meet. Sometimes the best adventures begin with the worst detours.
Pairing: Song Mingi × Reader (Y/N)
Genre: Romance, Road Trip, Slice of Life, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Idol Au
When they finally broke apart, the sky had deepened to violet and the first stars were pricking through above the darkening sea. The tide had crept closer while they stood there, waves now lapping at their feet. Neither of them had noticed.
Y/N’s hand was still fisted in his shirt, the fabric twisted tight against his chest. Her breath came slow and steady, matching his.
She didn’t let go.
„We should probably…“ she started.
„Stay.“
The word came out before he could stop it. Mingi didn’t correct himself. „Stay with me tonight. I mean…“ He ran his free hand through his hair, a nervous gesture she’d come to recognize. „I don’t want to waste a single second of what’s left.“
The way she looked at him then. It was the same look she’d given him at the restaurant when the old woman called them a beautiful couple. That wide, wondering expression, like she was seeing something she’d always suspected but never dared to name.
„Okay,“ she said simply.
Smut start
The guesthouse was a small whitewashed building perched on the hillside, their room on the top floor with a window that opened directly onto the ocean. A double bed. A single nightstand. A lamp that cast warm amber light across the sheets when Mingi switched it on.
The door clicked shut behind them.
For a moment they just stood there, the reality of the room settling around them. The bed took up most of the space. There was nowhere else to look but at each other.
Mingi reached for her hand. His fingers threaded through hers, slow, giving her every chance to pull away.
She didn’t.
She stepped closer. Close enough that the tips of her sandals touched his. Close enough that he could smell the salt on her skin, the faint floral scent of whatever soap the restaurant had in their bathroom.
She reached up, her fingers brushing along his jaw. The touch was so light it almost wasn’t there. A question, waiting for an answer.
Mingi turned his head, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. She made a small sound, barely audible, and his eyes found hers in the low light.
„Tell me if you want me to stop,“ he said. „At any point. Tell me and I will. No questions.“
„I know.“
„And I’m not…“ He hesitated. „I don’t want this to just be…“
She silenced him with a kiss. Soft, certain. When she pulled back, her eyes were bright.
„I know,“ she repeated. „I know.“
Mingi kissed her like he was memorizing the shape of her mouth. Slow, deliberate, learning the curve of her lower lip, the way she parted for him on instinct. His hands found her waist, fingers spreading across the thin cotton of her dress, and he pulled her closer by increments.
Her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt without breaking the kiss . Quick, practiced, pushing the fabric off his shoulders. He shrugged out of it, his hands sliding up her bare arms, and she shivered under his touch.
He stepped back, pulling her with him until the backs of his knees hit the bed. He sat, and she stood between his legs, looking down at him with that same unguarded expression from the beach.
Her hands found the buttons on the front of her dress. She held his gaze as she worked each one free. Slow, deliberate, a small smile curving at the corner of her mouth. The cotton loosened around her collarbone. She shrugged one shoulder, letting the fabric slide.
The dress slipped down her arms and fell to the floor around her ankles. She stood before him in nothing but lace, the lamplight painting her skin amber and gold. She didn’t cross her arms. Didn’t look away. She simply stood there, letting him look.
Mingi’s breath left him in a slow, uneven exhale. His hands lifted to her hips, thumbs tracing the curve of her waist, the jut of her hipbones. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to her stomach, and she sighed, her fingers threading into his hair.
He laid her back against the pillows, and she pulled him down with her, legs parting to make room for him between her thighs. She reached for the waistband of her underwear herself, lifting her hips to slide them off. He took them from her, dropped them on the floor without looking.
His mouth traced a path down her body. Her throat, the soft space between her breasts, the curve of her stomach. By the time he reached her thighs she was already arching, breath coming faster. He pressed her legs open wider, and she let him, fingers tightening in his hair.
When his tongue found her, she gasped. A raw, broken sound that drove him deeper. He spread her open with his thumbs, tasting her slowly, learning the rhythm that made her hips press up against his mouth. She was slick and warm against his tongue, her thighs trembling around his head.
He brought her to the edge once. Felt her clench and tighten, heard her breath catch and pulled back. She groaned, hips chasing his mouth, but he only kissed the inside of her thigh, lips curving against her skin.
Then he lowered his mouth to her again.
This time he didn’t stop. His tongue worked her clit in steady, firm circles while his fingers slid inside her. One, then two, curling as her back arched off the mattress. Her hips rolled against his mouth, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. He pushed her over with a long, deep press of his tongue, and she came with a shuddering cry, her thighs clamping around his head, her body clenching around his fingers. He kept going, gentler now, drawing it out until she was twitching with oversensitivity, a soft whimper escaping her throat.
Before she could catch her breath, she pushed at his chest. He rolled onto his back, surprised, and she was already straddling him, knees settling on either side of his hips.
She reached between them, wrapping her hand around his cock. Already hard, already aching. He groaned, head falling back against the pillow. She stroked him slowly, watching his jaw tighten, his hips twitch involuntarily.
Then she lowered her head.
The sound he made when her mouth closed around him was almost pained. She took him deep, tongue sliding along his length, hand working what she couldn’t reach. His fingers threaded into her hair his breath coming in uneven bursts.
She brought him to the edge once. Felt him tense, heard his breath catch. She pulled back, pressing a kiss to the head, looking up at him through her lashes. He made a strangled sound, half-laugh, half-groan.
She smiled and took him back into her mouth.
The second time she didn’t stop. She worked him deep and steady until his hands fisted in the sheets, his chest heaving, and when he came it was with a broken sound. Her name falling from his lips like he’d been holding it back for years, his hips bucking as she swallowed him through it.
She crawled up his body afterward, and he caught her face, kissing her deep and slow, tasting herself on his lips.
He rolled them over, settling between her thighs. The weight of him, the warmth. She opened for him instinctively, legs wrapping around his waist. He reached between them, guiding himself to her entrance, his forehead pressing against hers.
He pushed inside her slowly. Inch by inch, watching her face, reading every micro-expression. Her lips parted. Her eyes stayed on his. When he was fully seated, he stopped, letting her adjust. She was tight and hot around him, and he had to close his eyes for a moment, jaw tight.
He moved.
Slow, deep strokes that rolled through her in waves. Unhurried not because he was holding back, but because every inch of this night was borrowed time. He wanted to feel every second of it. The way her breath caught on each thrust. The way her nails pressed crescents into his shoulders. The way her eyes never left his.
He lowered his head, pressing his mouth to her throat, her collarbone, the space between her breasts. His pace deepened, and she gasped, hips rising to meet his. He hooked his arm under her knee, pressing it toward her chest, and the change in angle made them both groan. Him sinking deeper, her back arching.
She clutched at him, fingers sliding across his sweat-slicked back. His rhythm built. Deeper, harder, the bed creaking beneath them, their breath mingling in the warm lamplit air. She came with his name on her lips, her body tightening around him in waves, and he followed a heartbeat later, pressing deep, face buried in her neck, her name breaking from him like a prayer.
He stayed inside her as they came down, his forehead pressed to hers, their breath slow and shared in the quiet.
Smut end
Later, they lay tangled in the sheets, the window cracked open to let in the sound of the ocean. The lamp was still on. Neither of them had moved to turn it off.
Y/N traced patterns across his chest, slow and aimless. His hand rested on her lower back, thumb stroking idly.
„Tell me something,“ she said quietly. „Something no one else knows.“
He was quiet for a moment. Then: „I’m terrified of coming back.“
She looked up at him.
„Not of the stage,“ he clarified. „Not of the cameras. I’m terrified that I’ll get back to Seoul and realize the person I was before I left… he’s gone. And I don’t know who I’ll be instead.“
She propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him.
„Maybe that’s the point,“ she said softly. „Maybe you’re not supposed to come back the same. Maybe you’re supposed to become whoever you are now.“
He reached up, tucking her hair behind her ear.
„And who am I now?“
She smiled. That same smile from the photograph. His favorite one.
„Someone who stops for broken-down cars. Someone who watches the sunset instead of filming it. Someone who sings anime theme songs at the top of his lungs in the car.“
He laughed, soft and real.
„Someone who kissed a girl on a beach in Portugal.“
His breath caught.
„Yeah,“ he said, his voice rough again. „That too.“
She settled back against his chest, her cheek over his heartbeat.
„Mingi?“
„Yeah?“
„I’m glad it was you.“
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his arms tightening around her.
„Me too.“
They fell asleep like that. Tangled. Warm. The ocean humming ist quiet lullaby through the open window.
Tomorrow would come, whether they wanted it to or not.
But tonight was theirs
Mingi had never liked airports.
They were places built around leaving.
Around countdowns and final calls and people pretending they weren’t watching the clock.
He stood beside Y/N’s suitcase while the departure board flickered above them, changing gates every few seconds as if it were any other morning.
It wasn’t.
Not for him.
Neither of them had talked much during the drive.
The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable. It was simply full.
Full of everything that had happened over the past two weeks.
The broken-down car.
Mountain roads in Switzerland.
Pizza in Italy.
Anime every evening.
The beach in Portugal.
One impulsive kiss that had changed everything.
Neither of them seemed willing to be the first to mention it.
„So…“ Y/N adjusted the strap of her backpack. „I guess this is where we stop pretending we don’t have real lives.“
He smiled faintly. „I was hoping the road would just… keep going.“
She looked at him for a long moment before laughing quietly. „I was hoping that too.“
A boarding announcement echoed through the terminal.
She looked toward the security checkpoint. „I should go.“
His chest tightened.
There it was.
The sentence he’d been dreading since yesterday.
He nodded once. „Yeah.“
Another silence.
He had rehearsed dozens of things he wanted to tell her.
Stay.
Come back.
Can I see you again?
None of them seemed fair to ask.
Not when she had worked so hard for this job.
Not when Seoul was everything she’d been chasing for years.
Instead, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him.
He hugged her back immediately.
She fit against him so naturally that it almost hurt.
„I’m really glad my car broke down,“ she murmured.
He closed his eyes. „So am I.“
When they pulled apart, she reached into her pocket.
„My number.“
He laughed softly.
„I already saved it.“
„I know.“
„I just wanted an excuse to stay longer.“
He shook his head with a smile.
She looked relieved that he’d smiled. „You’ll text me?“
„I will.“
„You promise?“
„I promise.“
She nodded once.
Then she looked at him in that serious way she sometimes did.
„And you’ll think about what we talked about?“
He already knew what she meant.
Going back.
Back to music.
Back to the members.
Back to himself.
„I will.“
„No.“ She poked the center of his chest. „You’ll actually do it.“
The corner of his mouth lifted. „…Yes, ma’am.“
„There.“ She smiled. „Much better.“
Then she picked up her suitcase.
He watched her disappear into the line for security.
Halfway there she turned around.
She lifted her hand.
He waved back.
Then she smiled.
That smile. The one from the beach.
The one from the photograph.
The one he’d somehow started thinking of as his favorite.
A moment later she disappeared behind the crowd.
He stayed where he was anyway.
Long after she was gone.
The drive back felt strangely unfamiliar.
Not because he didn’t know the roads.
Because there was nobody in the passenger seat pointing excitedly at random cafés.
Nobody changing the music while pretending she wasn’t.
Nobody asking him if they could „just make one tiny little stop.“
The notebook she’d left on the dashboard for almost two weeks was gone.
The passenger seat looked empty in a way he hadn’t expected.
He caught himself looking toward it at a red light.
For a split second he expected to see her asleep against the window.
Instead… Only sunlight.
He laughed quietly to himself.
„You’re losing it.“
Maybe.
He decided not to fly home immediately.
One more week.
That had always been the plan.
One more week to clear his head before returning to Korea.
The problem was…His head was no longer quiet.
Every little town reminded him of her.
He walked through a market in southern Portugal and instinctively reached for two pastries before remembering there was only one person eating breakfast.
He passed a tiny bookstore and almost turned inside because Y/N would’ve insisted on looking „for just five minutes.“
Five minutes always became forty.
He found himself smiling at the memory.
Then the smile disappeared just as quickly.
It was strange how quickly someone could become part of your routine.
He hadn’t noticed it while she was there.
He noticed it now.
On the third day, he opened Spotify.
The first song that played was Harry Styles.
He skipped it.
The next one was one of ATEEZ’s songs.
He skipped that too.
Silence suddenly felt easier.
On the fifth day, he stopped at a scenic overlook.
The view was incredible.
Blue ocean.
White cliffs.
The kind of place Y/N would’ve climbed out of the car before he’d even parked properly.
He stood there alone.
His hand automatically reached for his camera.
Then stopped.
Who was he taking the picture for?
His gallery was already full.
Not of landscapes.
Of her.
Laughing with powdered sugar on her nose.
Looking out over the Alps.
Reading in cafés.
Standing barefoot in the Atlantic.
Smiling at him just as he’d pressed the shutter.
He sat down on a nearby bench and scrolled through them.
Without realizing it, he’d documented almost the entire trip through her.
Not because she’d asked him to.
Because he’d wanted to remember seeing her happy.
That realization settled heavily in his chest.
It wasn’t just that he missed her. He missed sharing things with her.
The quiet moments that somehow mattered most.
He unlocked his phone.
No messages.
He checked anyway.
Nothing.
Maybe she was overwhelmed.
Maybe she’d already started work.
Maybe she was still unpacking.
Or…
Maybe Portugal had simply been the end.
A beautiful chapter.
Closed.
He hated that possibility more than he wanted to admit.
Without thinking, he pressed her contact.
His thumb hovered over the call button.
00:21.
Seoul.
He stared at the time for a second before locking the phone again.
„No.“
He wasn’t going to wake her in the middle of the night because he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Instead he opened another contact.
Hongjoong answered almost immediately.
„Hey.“
The others appeared one by one until six familiar faces looked back at him.
For the first few minutes they talked about nothing.
Travel.
Food.
The weather.
Mingi listened more than he spoke.
It felt… Comforting.
Like slipping into an old jacket.
Hongjoong eventually tilted his head.
„Something’s on your mind.“
Mingi looked down at the balcony railing.
„I thought I’d feel better after a few days.“
Nobody asked what he meant.
They already knew.
„I don’t.“
He laughed once.
„I keep thinking she’s going to text me. I keep checking my phone.“
He rubbed his forehead.
„And every place I visit…“ He looked out toward the dark ocean. „…I wish she were here to see it.“
The words hung quietly between them.
„I think I already knew before Portugal.“
He smiled sadly.
„I just didn’t want to admit it.“
„Admit what?“ Yunho asked gently.
Mingi didn’t answer immediately.
Instead he thought back to the first day.
A broken-down little car.
A woman with grease on her cheek trying very hard not to cry.
The first laugh they’d shared.
The first time she’d switched on one of his own songs just to annoy him.
The way she’d told him it was okay to take a break.
The way she’d looked at him on that beach.
He smiled despite himself.
„I fell in love with her.“
There. Out loud.
It hurt less than keeping it inside.
„And she’s halfway across the world now.“
Nobody joked.
Nobody teased him.
Hongjoong simply nodded.
„I was wondering when you’d finally say it.“
Mingi chuckled softly.
„I’ve also figured something else out.“
Six pairs of eyes looked back at him.
„I want to come home.“
Wooyoung blinked.
„…Home home?“
He nodded.
„I don’t think I ever wanted to leave music. The feeling that I had to be perfect all the time.“
He paused.
„You know what Y/N did?“
„What?“
„She never once talked to me like I was an idol. She only ever talked to me like I was… me.“
He smiled.
„And somehow, talking to her about all of you…“
He shook his head.
„…I realized I still light up every time I talk about the group.“
„About performing.“
„About making music.“
„I’ve just been too exhausted to notice.“
Hongjoong’s smile was quiet but unmistakable.
„So you’re coming back.“
„I’m coming back.“
„And…“ Mingi looked down at the phone in his hand. „…I’m not ready to let her become a beautiful memory.“
He thought about the promise they’d made at the airport.
I’ll text you.
Maybe she was simply busy.
Maybe she was waiting too.
He smiled to himself.
„I don’t know what happens next. But I know I don’t want Portugal to be the last chapter.“
For the first time since leaving the airport, that thought didn’t fill him with dread.
It gave him something he’d been missing since the road trip ended.
A reason to keep moving forward.
Three weeks.
It wasn’t a long time.
Not really.
Yet somehow, it felt like another lifetime.
Y/N had imagined moving to Seoul a hundred different ways.
She had imagined getting lost on the subway.
Meeting new coworkers.
Trying restaurants she’d only ever seen online.
Decorating her first apartment.
Learning shortcuts through the city.
She had imagined all of that.
She had not imagined that every new experience would make her instinctively reach for her phone.
Just to remember that there wasn’t anyone waiting on the other side anymore.
Or at least…
That was what she kept telling herself.
Her apartment was finally starting to feel lived in.
There were plants on the windowsill now.
Books lined the shelves she’d spent an entire Saturday putting together.
A coffee mug from Portugal sat beside her sink because she still couldn’t bring herself to unpack it into a cupboard.
It reminded her too much of him.
The first week at work had been exactly what she’d expected.
Long.
Overwhelming.
Exciting.
Her team had welcomed her warmly, and every day she understood a little more Korean than the day before. She had already found a tiny café near the office where the owner remembered her order, and there was a convenience store around the corner that somehow always convinced her to buy snacks she didn’t need.
She was happy.
She genuinely was.
That was the strange part.
She liked Seoul.
She liked her job.
She liked waking up every morning knowing she’d built this life herself.
So why did something still feel… Missing?
Her phone buzzed with a news notification while she was eating lunch at work one afternoon.
She opened it absentmindedly.
Then froze.
The headline mentioned ATEEZ.
More specifically…
Song Mingi.
She clicked the article.
It talked about his hiatus.
Fans wondering when he would return.
Speculation.
Rumors.
Photographs from before his break.
Y/N frowned.
She had never really understood just how famous he was.
Not until she moved here.
ATEEZ songs played in cafés.
Posters hung inside train stations.
She passed advertisements with the members‘ faces more than once while commuting.
One afternoon she had even overheard two girls talking excitedly about rumors that Mingi might return soon.
That was the moment something shifted inside her.
The road trip had felt…Separate.
Like the two of them had existed outside the rest of the world.
Now reality had caught up.
He wasn’t just Mingi.
He was one of the biggest idols in the country.
Someone millions of people admired.
Someone whose every move became news.
She had picked up her phone that evening.
Opened their chat.
Typed.
Deleted it.
Typed again.
Deleted it again.
Maybe…Maybe Portugal had only been possible because nobody knew who he was there.
Maybe she’d been his escape.
His break from reality.
A summer romance.
Beautiful because it had an ending.
Maybe messaging him now would only remind him that reality had started again.
So she hadn’t.
One day became another.
Then another.
Three weeks.
The silence somehow became harder to break with every passing day.
Saturday morning arrived with rain tapping softly against her windows.
Y/N stayed in oversized pajamas until almost noon before making coffee and calling home.
Her mother’s face appeared almost instantly.
„There is my beautiful kid!“
Y/N smiled.
„Hi, Mom.“
„You look tired.“
„I worked all week.“
„That’s no excuse.“
„It absolutely is.“
Her mother laughed.
Behind her, Y/N caught a glimpse of her father pretending not to listen while reading the newspaper.
He lowered it just enough to wave.
She waved back.
„How’s Seoul?“ her mother asked.
„I love it.“
„Really?“
Y/N nodded.
„My coworkers are nice.“
„The city is amazing.“
„I’ve already found my favorite bakery.“
„Oh?“
„And the owner gives me an extra cookie sometimes.“
„See?“
Her mother smiled proudly.
„I knew you’d be alright.“
Y/N smiled back.
For a moment.
Then it faded without her realizing.
Her mother noticed immediately.
„…What’s wrong?“
„What?“
„That face.“
„I’m smiling.“
„Not with your eyes.“
Y/N looked away.
„I’m fine.“
„Y/N.“
Silence.
„You’ve always made that face when something was bothering you.“
„I’ve known you for twenty-four years.“
„You can’t fool me.“
Y/N sighed.
She should change the subject.
Ask about home.
About Dad.
About literally anything else.
Instead…
Her eyes suddenly filled with tears.
„Oh.“
Her mother softened immediately.
„Oh, sweetheart.“
„I…“ Y/N laughed shakily. „This is going to sound so stupid.“
„It won’t.“
„I think…“ She wiped quickly beneath one eye. „…I fell in love.“
Her mother blinked.
„…With who?“
Y/N laughed again.
„The guy.“
„…What guy?“
„The one who found me when my car broke down.“
Silence.
Then her mother’s eyes widened.
„…Continue.“
Y/N took a deep breath.
„I may have forgotten to tell you something.“
„I’ve noticed.“
„I…“
She smiled helplessly.
„We didn’t just spend one night together after my car broke down.“
„No?“
„No.“
„The mechanic declared my car dead.“
„I couldn’t rent another one.“
„So…“
She rubbed the back of her neck.
„…we sort of…“
„What?“
„…drove across Europe together.“
Her mother stared.
„For two weeks.“
Another pause.
„You WHAT?“
„I know.“
„You knew about the hotel.“
„I did.“
„You forgot to mention the road trip afterward?“
„I was afraid.“
„Afraid of what?“
„You.“
Her mother gasped dramatically.
„I would never—“
„You absolutely would’ve flown to Portugal.“
„…Maybe.“
„You would’ve.“
„I might have.“
Y/N laughed through her tears.
„So…“
She quietly told her everything.
Switzerland.
Italy.
Anime.
The beach.
Portugal.
The goodbye.
The kiss.
The night before she left.
She didn’t spare many details.
For the first time since getting on the plane, she said everything out loud.
When she finally finished…
Her mother was completely silent.
Then she smiled.
„Sweetheart.“
„…Yeah?“
„Are you in love with him?“
Y/N closed her eyes.
„…I think I am.“
„No.“
Her mother shook her head gently.
„I think you already know.“
Y/N laughed weakly.
„…Yeah. I do.“
„And why haven’t you texted him?“
She looked down.
„What if…What if it was only a summer romance for him? What if I meant something completely different than he did? What if I’m interrupting his real life?“
Her mother listened patiently.
Then sighed.
„Y/N. You’ve spent your entire life worrying about what might happen. You always have.“
She smiled softly.
„If this feels real to you…go after it.“
„What if he doesn’t feel the same?“
„Then you’ll know.“
„And if he does?“
Her mother smiled wider.
„Then don’t let fear make the decision for you.“
Y/N wiped another tear away.
„I love you.“
„I know.“
„I love you too.“
„And…“
Her mother pointed toward the camera.
„…that young man seemed very sweet.“
Y/N laughed.
„You’ve spoken to him once.“
„I know. I liked him.“
„You also called him handsome.“
„I was correct.“
„Mom.“
„What?“
Y/N couldn’t stop smiling anymore.
After saying goodbye, she ended the call and collapsed backward onto her bed.
The apartment suddenly felt very quiet.
She reached for her phone.
Opened their chat.
Her thumbs hovered above the keyboard.
Hi.
Too boring.
I’ve been thinking about you.
Absolutely not.
I miss…No.
She groaned into her pillow.
„This is impossible.“
She sat back up.
Deleted everything.
Started again.
Nothing sounded right.
Her phone vibrated.
Y/N frowned.
A new message.
From Mingi.
Her heart immediately skipped.
Mingi: Hey. Hope I’m not disturbing you.
She stared at the screen.
He texted first.
He actually texted first.
Before she could overthink it, another message appeared.
Mingi: Can I ask you something?
She smiled despite herself.
Y/N: Of course.
Three little dots appeared almost instantly.
Mingi: Where do you live in Seoul?
She blinked.
That…
Wasn’t the question she’d expected.
Confused, she copied her address and sent it.
A minute passed.
Then another message arrived.
Mingi: Perfect. I’ll be there shortly.
Y/N frowned.
Shortly?
She sat upright.
What did that mean?
Another message.
Mingi: Don’t panic.
She immediately panicked.
She looked around her apartment.
There was a mug on the coffee table.
Laundry drying on a chair.
A blanket lying in the middle of the sofa.
„Oh my god.“
She jumped off the bed.
Within seconds she was frantically folding blankets, hiding laundry, wiping down perfectly clean countertops and wondering why she suddenly cared whether her bookshelf looked organized.
Every few seconds she glanced at her phone.
Half expecting another message explaining that he’d been joking.
None came.
Somewhere outside, a car door slammed.
Y/N froze.
Her heartbeat climbed into her throat.
The apartment buzzer echoed through the room.
Y/N froze in the middle of fluffing a cushion that hadn’t needed fluffing in the first place.
For a second, she simply stared toward the intercom.
Then it rang again.
Her heartbeat climbed into her throat.
She hurried to the small screen mounted beside the front door and pressed the button to activate the camera.
The image flickered to life.
A man stood in front of the entrance.
A black baseball cap pulled low over his face.
A black mask.
An oversized hoodie.
Baggy cargo pants.
His hands tucked into his pockets as he glanced briefly toward the camera.
To anyone else, he probably looked like any other person trying not to be noticed in Seoul.
To Y/N…
She would’ve recognized him anywhere.
Her lips parted. „…Mingi.“
She almost forgot to buzz him in.
With fumbling fingers she pressed the button, hearing the lock downstairs click open.
The elevator.
She needed to get to the elevator.
Her legs moved before her brain caught up.
She opened her apartment door and stood in the hallway just as the elevator arrived a few seconds later.
The doors slid open.
Mingi stepped out.
For a heartbeat they simply looked at each other.
Neither of them smiled immediately.
It was almost as if both of them needed to make sure the other one was actually real.
Then his eyes softened above the mask.
„Hi.“
His voice sounded exactly the same.
Y/N still couldn’t make herself answer.
Instead she stepped aside.
He understood immediately and quietly walked into her apartment.
The door clicked shut behind them.
For another few seconds, silence settled between them.
Mingi reached up first.
He pulled off his cap, running a hand through hair that had grown slightly longer since Portugal.
Then he hooked his fingers beneath the mask and let it fall around his neck.
Finally he shrugged off the oversized hoodie.
When he looked back up…
Y/N was still staring at him.
He blinked. „…Do I have something on my face?“
The question finally broke whatever spell she had been under.
„What are you doing in Seoul?“
The words came out much louder than she’d intended.
He smiled.
Small. Almost shy.
„I came back.“
She frowned in confusion. „…From Portugal?“
He nodded.
„And…“ He rubbed the back of his neck. „…I’m organizing my comeback.“
For a second…
Her brain completely stopped working.
Then her eyes widened.
„…You’re what?“
He laughed quietly.
„I decided. I’m coming back.“
Before she realized she was moving…
She crossed the room in three quick steps and threw her arms around him.
„Oh my god!“
The words came out somewhere between a laugh and a relieved sob.
„Mingi! That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!“
She hugged him tightly enough that he actually stumbled back half a step.
His laughter rumbled softly against her shoulder.
„I know.“
„You did it.“
„You actually did it.“
„I’m proud of you.“
The words slipped out before she had the chance to think about them.
Then reality caught up.
Y/N suddenly became painfully aware of exactly how she was standing.
Her arms looped around his neck.
Her body pressed against his.
Heat rushed into her cheeks.
„Oh.“
She immediately tried to step back.
„I’m sorry, I just—“
Before she could move away…
Mingi’s arms wrapped gently around her waist.
He pulled her back.
Not forcefully.
Just enough that she stopped trying to create distance.
She looked up in surprise.
Instead of meeting her eyes…
He lowered his head until his forehead rested lightly against the side of her neck.
She felt his breath against her skin.
For a long moment…
Neither of them spoke.
Then, very quietly…
„I missed you.“ His voice was almost a whisper. „So much.“
Y/N felt her heart squeeze.
„The last few weeks…“ He laughed softly, but there wasn’t any humor in it. „…they were unbearable.“
Her arms slowly settled back around him.
This time intentionally.
„I kept reaching for my phone. I kept thinking I’d text you. I kept wondering if I should.“
He took a slow breath.
„I’ve never really believed in destiny. Or soulmates. Or people meeting exactly when they’re supposed to.“
Another quiet laugh.
„I always thought those things only happened in dramas.“
He finally lifted his head.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Their eyes met.
Y/N had seen Mingi smile.
She had seen him laugh until tears gathered in his eyes.
She had seen him thoughtful.
Embarrassed.
Sleepy.
This… This was different.
He looked vulnerable.
Almost scared.
„I think…“ His voice caught slightly. „…I fell hopelessly in love with you.“
Y/N forgot how to breathe.
He held her gaze for another second.
Then looked away first.
As if he suddenly couldn’t bear the uncertainty anymore.
„My life…“ He smiled faintly. „…is complicated.“
„You know that. It’s busy. It’s loud. It gets overwhelming. I know that better than anyone.“
He swallowed.
„And…“ His eyes stayed fixed on the floor. „I wouldn’t blame you.“
„If you didn’t want…“ He shook his head. „If you didn’t want to be part of that.“
His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly against her waist.
„I just…I needed you to know. What that road trip meant to me. What you mean to me.“
„You helped me become someone I actually wanted to be again. You reminded me why I love music. You reminded me who I am outside of everyone else’s expectations.“
His voice became quieter.
„And somewhere between your broken-down car…“
„…and Portugal…“
„…I fell in love with you.“
Silence filled the apartment.
Not an uncomfortable silence.
The kind where everything important had already been said.
Mingi still hadn’t looked back at her.
Perhaps he couldn’t.
Perhaps he was already preparing himself for disappointment.
Very gently…Y/N reached up.
Her fingers rested beneath his chin.
She guided his face back toward hers.
Happy tears blurred her vision.
She laughed through them.
„You idiot.“
His eyebrows knitted together immediately.
„…What?“
„I was going to text you.“
He blinked.
„Today.“
„I spent half an hour trying to figure out what to write.“
She smiled through another tear.
„I wanted to tell you exactly the same thing.“
Confusion slowly gave way to hope in his expression.
„I thought…“ She shook her head. „I thought maybe Portugal had just been a beautiful summer memory for you.“
His eyes widened. „I thought the same thing.“
She laughed. „We’re both idiots.“
„A little.“
„A lot.“
She took one small step closer.
„I fell in love with you too.“
The words settled between them with surprising ease.
As though they had both known for much longer than either wanted to admit.
Mingi smiled.
The one that reached all the way into his eyes.
He cupped her cheek.
This time, when they kissed, there was no uncertainty.
No countdown waiting for tomorrow.
No airport.
No goodbye hanging over them.
Just relief.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were smiling so much their cheeks hurt.
Mingi rested his forehead against hers.
„So…“ He murmured. „…does this mean you’ll give me a chance?“
Y/N pretended to think very hard.
„Hm. I don’t know.“
His face immediately fell.
She laughed.
„I’m kidding. I’d be very happy to try.“
His shoulders relaxed so visibly that she couldn’t help smiling wider.
„I don’t need much anyway.“
„Oh?“
She nodded thoughtfully.
„Just you. A bed. And an anime.“
He laughed. „I can do that.“
„And…“ She reached up, straightening the front of his hoodie.
„…every now and then…“
„…a broken-down car…“
He was already smiling before she finished.
„…and a road trip through little villages where nobody knows who we are.“
He looked at her for a long moment.
„I think…“ He said softly, „…I’d like that very much.“
Outside, Seoul continued exactly as it always had.
Cars passed beneath her apartment.
People hurried home after another busy day.
The city carried on, unaware that somewhere inside one small apartment, a broken-down car in the middle of Europe had quietly changed two lives forever.
Two Years Later
„You’ve officially been promoted.“
Y/N looked up from the bags of takeout balanced in her arms. „…Promoted?“
Wooyoung nodded with complete seriousness.
„From ‚Mingi’s girlfriend‘ to ‚our personal food delivery angel.‘“
„I’ll accept that title.“
„You should.“
He reached into one of the bags before she could even put them down.
Hongjoong immediately smacked his hand away.
„Wait until everyone’s here.“
„I’m starving.“
„So are the rest of us.“
„That’s their problem.“
Y/N laughed quietly as she carried the bags into the practice room.
The familiar smell of the restaurant they all loved filled the room almost instantly.
Like clockwork, every single member looked up.
San actually gasped. „…Is that…“
„The spicy pork place,“ Y/N confirmed.
Yunho practically jumped off the floor. „I love you.“
Wooyoung pointed dramatically.
„I said it first.“
„You say that every time she brings food.“
„Because she always brings food.“
Jongho calmly walked over, already reaching for chopsticks. „Move. I want to eat before they start arguing.“
Yeosang smiled at Y/N while helping unpack everything.
„You spoil us.“
„They deserve it,“ she said.
Hongjoong looked around the room at the seven grown men who had somehow transformed into excited children because someone had mentioned food.
„I’m not sure they do.“
„I heard that,“ San protested.
„I wanted you to.“
Y/N couldn’t stop smiling.
Two years.
Sometimes it still amazed her how naturally she’d found her place among them.
The first few meetings had been intimidating.
She’d spent entire evenings wondering whether she should bow more or speak less or whether she was accidentally sitting in someone’s favorite chair.
The members had solved that problem surprisingly quickly.
Mostly by refusing to let her feel like a guest.
Now…
Wooyoung stole fries from her plate without asking.
Yunho insisted on showing her every dance move he’d learned.
Jongho quietly made sure she always got the last dumpling because he knew it was her favorite.
Yeosang remembered which cafés she liked.
San hugged her every single time they met.
Seonghwa treated her like a little sister.
Hongjoong occasionally asked for her opinion on songs.
And somewhere along the way…
She had stopped being „Mingi’s girlfriend.“
She had simply become…
Y/N.
Family.
Watching Mingi during practice still made her smile.
Even now.
Even after two years.
He looked different on stage than he did at home.
Sharper.
More focused.
Every movement precise.
Every expression effortless.
She still remembered the uncertain man who had stood on a beach in Portugal wondering whether he even wanted to come back.
Now…
Watching him dance…
There wasn’t a trace of doubt left.
When the music stopped, he immediately searched the room.
His eyes found hers within seconds.
He smiled.
Later that evening, the dorm had become unusually quiet.
Most of the members had disappeared into their own rooms, either exhausted from practice or still recovering from eating far too much.
Y/N sat cross-legged on Mingi’s bed while he searched through his backpack.
„So…“
She said.
„Hm?“
She tilted her head innocently.
„I’ve been thinking.“
„I’m already worried.“
„You should be.“
He laughed.
„What is it?“
She pointed toward the speaker in the corner.
„Show me the choreography again.“
He looked over his shoulder.
„…Again?“
„Yes.“
„You’ve already seen it.“
„I know.“
„You’ve watched practice today.“
„I know.“
„You’ve seen rehearsal videos.“
„I know.“
He folded his arms.
„So why exactly do I have to dance it again?“
Y/N smiled much too sweetly.
„Because…“ She leaned back on her hands. „…the choreography for Bad is ridiculously sexy.“
Mingi blinked.
„…Excuse me?“
„You heard me.“
He covered his face with one hand.
„I regret teaching you confidence.“
„You created this problem.“
„Apparently.“
She gave him her best pleading look. „Pleeease?“
He sighed dramatically. „I can’t believe I’m encouraging this.“
„You absolutely are.“
He finally gave in. „Fine.“
He connected his phone to the speaker.
The familiar intro filled the room.
Without another word, he stepped into the middle of the room.
The transformation happened instantly.
Gone was the slightly embarrassed boyfriend.
In his place stood the performer she’d watched fall back in love with dancing.
He moved through the choreography with the same confidence she’d seen countless times on stage.
Sharp.
Controlled.
Effortless.
Y/N rested her chin in her hands.
„See?“ She called when the song ended. „That’s exactly what I meant.“
He laughed, slightly out of breath. „You are impossible.“
„I’ve been told.“
He walked back toward the bed.
Before she could say another word, he gently took her face in both hands.
„What?“ She asked.
„I was just thinking.“ He smiled softly. „I’m really glad your car broke down.“
She laughed immediately.
„We’re still blaming the car?“
„I’ll blame it forever.“
„It had excellent timing.“
„It did.“
He leaned down, kissing her slowly.
When he pulled back again, his forehead rested lightly against hers.
„I love you.“
The words still made her heart skip after all this time.
She smiled.
„I love you too.“
He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
„I’ve been planning…“
„Oh?“
„When promotions are over…“
He looked genuinely excited now.
„…we should go away again.“
She already knew where this was going.
„No schedules. No cameras. No interviews. Just us.“
She pretended to consider it.
„Hm.“
He narrowed his eyes.
„What?“
„There is one condition.“
„I knew there’d be one.“
„We need anime.“
He nodded immediately.
„Done.“
„And…“
She smiled mischievously.
„…at least one tiny village where nobody knows who you are.“
„Easy.“
„And…“
She poked his chest.
„…absolutely no broken-down cars this time.“
Mingi laughed so hard he almost fell backward onto the bed.
„I think we’ve used up our lifetime supply of those.“
She smiled.
„I hope so.“
He slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side.
Outside, Seoul buzzed with ist usual restless energy.
Inside the room, however, everything felt wonderfully quiet.
Sometimes Y/N still thought about that lonely country road in Europe.
About a broken-down little car.
About a ridiculously tall stranger who had looked into an engine despite knowing absolutely nothing about cars.
It had been the worst possible start to her adventure.
And somehow…
The best thing that had ever happened to either of them.
Your car breaks down on day one of your dream road trip through Europe. Mingi, a stranger traveling the same way, offers you a ride. One impulsive decision turns into two weeks of tiny coastal towns, mountain roads, anime nights, stolen sunsets, and slowly falling in love with someone you were never supposed to meet. Sometimes the best adventures begin with the worst detours.
Pairing: Song Mingi × Reader (Y/N)
Genre: Romance, Road Trip, Slice of Life, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Idol Au
The road through Switzerland looked like it had been painted by someone who couldn't decide which landscape they loved most.
One moment they were driving through sleepy little villages where flower boxes overflowed beneath wooden windows. The next, the road climbed higher and higher until snow-covered mountain peaks appeared in the distance, towering above green valleys that looked almost impossibly perfect.
Y/N had lost count of how many times she had asked Mingi to pull over.
"Again?" he laughed as she pointed toward another scenic overlook.
"Again."
"We stopped ten minutes ago."
"And?"
"You took forty-three pictures."
"I took forty-one."
He looked at her. "...You counted?"
"I absolutely counted."
Mingi shook his head dramatically before steering into the next parking area anyway.
"You know," he muttered while turning off the engine, "I created a monster."
"You offered."
"I did."
"You agreed to my route."
"I did."
"So really..." She smiled as she grabbed her camera. "...this is your fault."
He sighed theatrically. "I walked right into that one."
She laughed as she climbed out of the car.
The cold mountain air immediately greeted her, carrying the scent of pine trees and fresh grass. She walked closer to the wooden fence overlooking the valley and simply stood there.
No picture could ever do it justice.
Behind her she heard Mingi's camera click.
She turned around. "Were you just taking a picture of me?"
"No."
"...Mingi."
"I was photographing the mountain."
"The mountain that somehow has my face?"
"It was in the way."
She narrowed her eyes. "Liar."
He grinned. "Maybe."
She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop smiling.
That had become a pattern over the last few days.
Somewhere between the winding roads, tiny cafés and endless playlists, they had fallen into an easy rhythm.
The awkwardness of meeting a complete stranger had disappeared surprisingly quickly.
Now they argued over which roadside bakery had the best croissants. They shared snacks without asking. They competed over spotting the most ridiculous road signs.
And every morning they somehow ended up laughing before they had even finished their coffee.
It felt...Easy.
Far easier than Y/N had expected.
She had also discovered something else.
Mingi was incredibly easy to tease.
Especially after she had finally listened to ATEEZ. The first time had happened completely by accident. She had been scrolling through Spotify while he was paying for fuel.
Curiosity had gotten the better of her. She had typed "ATEEZ."
The next thing she knew, one of their songs started playing through the car speakers.
Mingi had frozen halfway back into the driver's seat. "...Really?"
She looked up innocently. "What?"
"You picked our music."
"I wanted to see if you're actually good."
"And?"
She had let the chorus play for another minute before nodding. "...You're alright."
"Alright?"
"I'm kidding."
He had looked so offended that she couldn't stop laughing.
Since then, it had become a daily tradition. At completely random moments she'd switch on one of ATEEZ's songs. Sometimes she'd even turn the volume up dramatically.
Mingi reacted every single time. "Oh no."
"What?"
"Not this one."
"Why?"
"I have to hear my own voice."
"I thought singers liked that."
"We don't."
"Liar."
He pointed accusingly at the radio. "You planned this."
"I absolutely did."
"You're evil."
She smiled sweetly. "I've been told."
She had also learned something else.
Mingi adored his members. It was obvious whenever he talked about them. He never realized how much he smiled until she pointed it out.
"...You smile differently."
"Hm?"
"When you talk about them."
"I do?"
She nodded. "Especially Yunho."
"Actually..." She thought for a moment. "...all of them."
He laughed softly. "They're family."
She believed him immediately.
He had told her stories about Wooyoung accidentally burning dinner. About Yunho getting distracted halfway through conversations. About San insisting on hugging everyone. About Hongjoong pretending to be stricter than he really was.
Every story ended the same way. With Mingi smiling.
Sometimes laughing so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes.
She found that version of him...Adorable.
There was no better word.
Not the famous idol. Not the performer she'd watched on stage through videos.
Just...Mingi.
The man who got overly excited about good coffee, anime recommendations and finding tiny bookstores in random villages. The man who sang loudly to songs on the radio when he thought no one was paying attention. The man who insisted every scenic route was worth the extra thirty minutes.
She liked that Mingi. Very much.
By the time they crossed into Italy, the mountains slowly gave way to rolling hills and eventually the sea.
The air became warmer. Salt lingered on the breeze. Palm trees appeared between colorful houses.
The little coastal town they'd chosen for the night looked almost unreal.
Narrow streets climbed the hillside.
Scooters squeezed between tiny cafés.
Laundry fluttered from balconies.
The entire town smelled like garlic, fresh bread and the ocean.
"I think..." Y/N looked around while they wandered toward the harbor. "...I could stay here forever."
Mingi nodded. "I was thinking the same thing."
Dinner found them in a tiny family-owned restaurant overlooking the water.
There were maybe ten tables altogether.
An elderly couple worked together without saying much.
The husband baked pizzas. The wife greeted every guest like an old friend.
They sat outside. The sea stretched endlessly before them while the sky slowly turned orange.
For several minutes neither of them spoke.
Neither needed to.
Their pizzas arrived, filling the air with the smell of fresh basil and melted mozzarella.
Y/N took a bite. "...I'm ruined."
Mingi looked over. "What?"
"I'll never enjoy frozen pizza again."
He laughed. "That's a fair sacrifice."
She smiled before another thought crossed her mind. "...Can I ask you something?"
His expression softened.
"You can ask."
She hesitated. "You don't have to answer."
"Okay."
She looked down at her plate. "The other day..."
"When you told me about your hiatus..."
He nodded slowly.
"You didn't really tell me why."
Silence settled between them again.
This time it felt different.
He looked out toward the sea instead of at her.
For a while she thought he wouldn't answer.
Then he quietly spoke. "I got overwhelmed."
There wasn't any drama in his voice. Just honesty.
"It happened slowly. Schedules became busier. There were more people. More expectations. Everything became..."
He searched for the word. "...louder."
Y/N listened without interrupting.
"I love performing. I still do."
"But somewhere along the way..." He sighed. "...I stopped knowing where Mingi ended and the idol started."
His fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of his glass.
"I'd wake up already tired. I couldn't enjoy things the way I used to."
"So..." He smiled faintly. "...I wondered if maybe I wasn't meant for this anymore. If I was enough. I had a lot of self doubt."
Y/N frowned. "And that's why you came here."
He nodded. "I wanted to figure out whether I missed it."
"...Do you?"
He looked toward the sunset. "...Sometimes. But I'm also terrified of going back."
His voice was quieter now.
She hadn't expected him to tell her something so personal.
They had only known each other for a few days.
He noticed her expression and smiled awkwardly.
"Sorry. I don't usually talk this much."
She shook her head immediately.
"Don't apologize. You trusted me."
"I think..." She smiled softly. "...that's kind of an honor."
For a second he simply looked at her.
The sunset reflected in his dark eyes.
Without really thinking about it...
Y/N reached across the table.
Her fingers gently found his hand.
He looked down in surprise.
"So?" she said quietly. "It's okay."
He frowned slightly.
"What is?"
"Taking a break."
She gave his hand a tiny squeeze.
"It's okay if you're tired."
"It's okay if you needed to leave."
"You don't have to have everything figured out right now."
"The world will still be there when you're ready."
He didn't say anything.
He simply listened.
"You've spent years giving people your energy."
She smiled.
"Maybe it's your turn to keep some for yourself."
For a long moment neither of them moved.
The only sound was the sea quietly rolling against the rocks below.
Then Y/N suddenly realized...She was still holding his hand.
Why am I holding his hand?
Heat rushed into her cheeks.
She quickly cleared her throat.
"...Besides." She tilted her head dramatically. "If you quit now..."
He blinked.
"...who exactly am I supposed to bully with your own songs?"
He stared at her.
Then laughed.
A real laugh. The kind that reached his eyes.
"Oh. So that's why you're encouraging me."
"Exactly."
"I have priorities."
"I knew it."
"You'd better go back eventually." She pointed at him with mock seriousness. "I've only just started embarrassing you."
He shook his head, still smiling.
"I walked right into another one."
"You really do."
He looked down for a brief second.
Their hands had slipped apart naturally sometime during her joking.
She wasn't even sure exactly when.
Strangely...She almost missed the warmth.
That thought caught her completely off guard.
She quickly picked up another slice of pizza.
It had to be the pizza making her think strange things.
Right?
Across from her, Mingi smiled quietly to himself while looking out at the sunset.
By the fourth day of traveling together, Y/N had realized something.
Traveling with another person was significantly cheaper.
The revelation had come while she was staring at yet another hotel booking on her phone.
„If we keep booking separate rooms,“ she had mumbled over breakfast that morning, „I’m going to arrive in Seoul with enough money left for… maybe one instant ramen.“
Mingi had laughed into his coffee. „You’ll survive.“
„I’d rather survive with furniture.“
They had looked at each other for a second before the same thought crossed both of their minds.
„We could…“ Y/N had started. „…book one room?“
Mingi finished. „…with two beds.“
Exactly.
It had made perfect sense.
Since then, every hotel they booked had two single beds.
It saved money.
They still had their own space. And, to Y/N’s surprise, it had never felt awkward.
By now they had developed an unspoken routine.
One of them showered while the other looked for tomorrow’s route.
They watched an episode or two of anime before going to sleep.
Then they wished each other goodnight.
Simple. Comfortable.Easy.
Unfortunately…
The tiny coastal town they had fallen in love with wasn’t exactly overflowing with hotels.
After asking at three different places, all of them shaking their heads apologetically, they finally found a family-run inn near the harbor.
The owner looked genuinely apologetic. „I only have one room left.“
Y/N and Mingi exchanged a glance.
„Two beds?“ Y/N asked hopefully.
The older woman smiled awkwardly. „One.“
Silence. „A… big one?“
The woman nodded enthusiastically. „Very big.“
Y/N looked at Mingi.
He scratched the back of his neck. „I can sleep on the floor.“
The owner immediately shook her head. „No, no. The floor is old stone.“
She frowned.
„You’ll wake up unable to move.“
Mingi laughed awkwardly. „That’s… good to know.“
Y/N looked at the booking app on her phone.
Everything within almost forty kilometers was full.
She sighed.
„I think…“ She looked back at him.„…we’ll survive one night.“
He nodded. „I think so too.“
The room was exactly as advertised.
Tiny.
A wooden wardrobe. A little balcony overlooking the sea.
One enormous bed taking up almost all the remaining space.
Y/N couldn’t help smiling. „It really is big.“
„It is.“
Mingi dropped his backpack beside the wardrobe. „I’ll stay on my side.“
She laughed. „I wasn’t worried.“
An hour later they were both showered, wearing comfortable clothes and sitting against the headboard with the television balanced on a chair opposite the bed.
Y/N had insisted on choosing the anime.
Mostly because Mingi had spent the last few nights insisting that she needed „proper anime education.“
Tonight she had picked the one that kept appearing on recommendation lists.
„The Apothecary Diaries.“
Mingi looked pleasantly surprised. „Good choice.“
„I have excellent taste.“
„You’ve watched exactly one anime.“
„And it was good.“
He rolled his eyes. „Fair.“
The first episode started.
Within ten minutes… Y/N forgot they were even watching television.
„This girl is so weird.“
Mingi smiled knowingly. „Keep watching.“
„No spoilers.“
„I wasn’t going to.“
„You definitely were.“
„…Maybe a little.“
She pointed a warning finger at him before turning back toward the screen.
By the halfway point she was completely invested. „Wait.“
„What?“
„So she noticed because…“ She gasped quietly. „No way.“
Mingi looked more amused by her reactions than the actual episode.
„I knew you’d like this.“
„I wasn’t expecting it to be this good.“
„Told you.“
„You did.“
She reluctantly admitted it.
He looked entirely too pleased with himself. The bed dipped slightly as he shifted to get more comfortable.
Only then did Y/N realize how close they actually were.
Not touching. But close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him.
She glanced sideways.
It wasn’t exactly fair.
How could someone be this…Large?
She had noticed it before, of course.
Whenever they walked through crowded streets, Mingi naturally stood out.
He was ridiculously tall. Broad shoulders. Long legs.
Even sitting beside her, he somehow seemed to occupy twice as much space as any normal person.
And…
She looked a little longer than she probably should have.
He was handsome. Very handsome.
Not in the perfectly styled magazine-cover way she’d first seen after googling him.
Like this…
With messy hair that hadn’t quite dried after his shower. A faded T-shirt. Reading glasses perched on his nose because apparently he wore them when watching television.
He looked… Cute.
Hot.
Her thoughts screeched to a halt.
Hot?
Where had that come from?
Y/N quickly looked back at the television.
Focus.
The anime.
Poison. Medicine. Mysteries.
Not Mingi.
Her eyes drifted sideways again before she could stop herself.
She wondered…
Did he also think about her that way?
The thought appeared so suddenly that it startled her.
Why am I even wondering that?
Y/N’s stomach flipped.
Hold on.
Why was she wondering that?
She blinked rapidly at the television.
No.
Absolutely not.
She wasn’t…
Was she?
Her heart suddenly felt much louder than the opening theme.
No.
No, no, no.
She had known him for…
What?
Four days?
Five?
She was tired.
That had to be it.
The traveling. The lack of sleep.
Too much Italian pizza. Definitely the pizza.
Beside her, Mingi paused the episode.
Y/N immediately looked over. „Hm?“
He was studying her with a slight frown. „Are you alright?“
His voice was lower than usual.
The kind of voice people naturally used late at night.
For reasons Y/N couldn’t begin to explain…
A tiny shiver ran down her spine.
Her brain completely betrayed her.
Oh.
Oh no.
Her heart immediately accelerated.
This is bad. This is very, very bad.
„What?“
Mingi asked again. „You’ve looked distracted for the last few minutes.“
She blinked. „I…“
Words. Use words.
„I’m fine.“
„You sure?“
He tilted his head slightly.
The movement somehow made him look even more attractive.
Why? Why now? Why was her brain suddenly noticing things it had politely ignored for the past few days?
His smile. His voice.
The stupid reading glasses.
She needed to leave. Immediately.
„I…“ She practically jumped off the bed. „I think I should shower.“
Mingi blinked. „…Didn’t you already shower?“
„…Did I?“
„…Yes.“
„Oh.“
Silence.
She pointed vaguely toward the bathroom.
„I’m… going to shower again.“
„…Okay?“
She smiled far too brightly. „Be right back.“
Then she disappeared into the bathroom before he could ask another question.
The moment the door closed behind her, she leaned both hands against the sink.
Her reflection stared back at her. „What is wrong with you?“
She whispered it to herself.
She turned on the cold water and splashed some onto her face.
Her cheeks were noticeably warm.
Fantastic. Just fantastic.
She looked ridiculous.
After a long breath, she climbed into the shower and let the cool water run over her shoulders.
Maybe she really was just tired.
Traveling together every day naturally made people closer.
That was all.
Right?
She laughed quietly to herself.
Who was she trying to convince?
The truth was painfully obvious.
Mingi was attractive.
The entire internet agreed.
He was kind. Funny. Thoughtful.
He stopped for stranded strangers.
He listened.
He made coffee every morning because he somehow woke up before her every single day.
He remembered that she liked strawberry jam more than apricot.
He slowed down during hikes because her legs were shorter than his.
And somehow…
Despite being famous…
He had never once made her feel like she was talking to a celebrity.
Just… Mingi.
She groaned softly, letting the water fall over her face. „This is so stupid.“
She wasn’t supposed to think about him like that.
Not now. Not during a road trip that would eventually end. Not when she was moving to Seoul for a completely new life. Not when he was still trying to figure out whether he even wanted to return to the career that had shaped his entire adult life.
Her heart, unfortunately, seemed completely uninterested in listening to reason.
Y/N sighed. „This trip,“ she murmured to herself, „is going to be the death of me.“
Outside the bathroom, she could faintly hear the television start playing again.
Apparently Mingi had decided to continue watching without her.
She smiled despite herself. He’d probably have to explain everything she’d missed.
The closer they got to France, the more Mingi found himself pretending not to look at the little map on the dashboard.
Switzerland was behind them.
Italy slowly disappeared in the rearview mirror.
Next came the south of France.
Then Spain.
Then Portugal.
Then…Seoul.
Well. Not for him.
For Y/N.
The realization settled somewhere in his chest every time he looked at the route. There weren’t that many stops left anymore. A week ago, the road had seemed endless. Now every town they crossed off somehow felt like another page turning toward the end of the story.
He didn’t like that feeling.
Not one bit.
He glanced sideways.
Y/N had her head resting against the window, sunglasses perched on top of her hair while she absentmindedly looked at the lavender fields passing by.
Somewhere over the last few days, she’d become part of the routine.
Morning coffee.
Arguing over which bakery looked best.
Stopping every hour because she’d spotted „something cute.“
Her notebook permanently lying on the dashboard.
The passenger seat didn’t feel like a passenger seat anymore.
It just felt…Like her place.
He caught himself smiling.
„What?“ Y/N looked over immediately.
„What what?“
„You’re smiling.“
„…Am I?“
„You are.“ She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. „Were you making fun of me?“
„No.“
„You definitely were.“
„I wasn’t.“
„Liar.“
He chuckled. „I was just thinking.“
„That’s dangerous.“
„According to who?“
„Me.“
He laughed louder this time.
She had become comfortable enough to tease him constantly.
And strangely…He loved it.
The playlist changed.
Harry Styles began singing through the speakers.
Y/N immediately turned the volume up. „Oh, I love this one.“
„I noticed.“
She started singing before the first chorus even arrived.
Not quietly either.
Completely committed.
She drummed her fingers against the dashboard and pointed dramatically out of the windshield every time the lyrics became particularly emotional.
Mingi couldn’t help laughing.
„You know…“ He said. „…you’re a very enthusiastic singer.“
„I’m incredible.“
„Hm.“
„You disagree?“
„I admire your confidence.“
She gasped dramatically. „That was rude.“
„It was honest.“
She reached over and lightly smacked his shoulder. „Drive.“
„Yes, ma’am.“
By the time the song faded out, they were both laughing.
Then…The next song started.
Mingi recognized the opening instrumental immediately.
He let out an exaggerated groan. „Oh no.“
Y/N’s face lit up. „Oh yes!“
She turned the volume up another few clicks for Deja Vu.
„Absolutely not.“
„It’s my favorite now.“
„You’ve been listening to this every day.“
„And?“
„I hear my own voice enough.“
„I don’t.“ She pointed triumphantly toward the speakers. „So we’re listening.“
He sighed dramatically. „I created this problem.“
„You really did.“
Before the chorus even started, Y/N was already moving with the music.
One foot rested against the dashboard while the other tapped along with the beat.
She sang every line she’d managed to memorize over the last few days, occasionally replacing Korean words she didn’t know with complete nonsense.
Mingi laughed so hard he nearly missed a turn. „That wasn’t even close.“
„I improvised.“
„You absolutely invented three words.“
„They sounded convincing.“ She smiled proudly before continuing.
He shook his head.
Hopeless. Completely hopeless.
Still… He couldn’t stop smiling.
He glanced at her again.
Her summer dress had ridden up slightly while she danced in the seat, exposing more of her thigh than she’d probably noticed.
His eyes lingered for exactly half a second before he forced them back to the road.
Focus.
Drive.
Road.
Not Y/N.
Lately… He’d been noticing things.
Little things.
Things he hadn’t paid attention to during the first days.
The way she tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear whenever she concentrated. The tiny scar on one of her knees. The freckles across her shoulders she’d only discovered after they’d spent an afternoon at the beach.
Even the way she laughed.
At first, he’d thought she laughed with her whole face.
Now he knew there were different versions.
The polite laugh. The sarcastic laugh. The one where she’d snort because she’d tried too hard not to laugh.
His favorite.
Then there had been last night.
He still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened.
She’d disappeared into the bathroom insisting she needed another shower despite already having taken one.
When she’d come back… He’d looked up without thinking.
She’d been wearing comfortable sleep shorts and a simple camisole.
Nothing extraordinary.
Just…Normal clothes for a warm summer evening.
She hadn’t been trying to impress anyone.
If anything, she’d looked completely unaware of how she looked.
Her hair had still been damp.
She’d climbed back onto the bed, apologized for disappearing so suddenly and immediately become invested in the anime again.
Meanwhile…He’d spent far too much energy reminding himself to look at the television.
Not because of what she’d been wearing.
Well… Not only.
It was everything together.
The oversized smile she’d given him. The way she’d curled her legs beneath herself while watching. How excited she’d gotten every time she guessed part of the mystery correctly.
She was…Ridiculously attractive.
And somehow…It had very little to do with appearance.
Of course she was beautiful.
He wasn’t blind.
But it was everything else.
Her curiosity. Her kindness. Her stubborn determination to stop at every scenic overlook.
The way she’d become friends with elderly café owners within five minutes.
How she’d held his hand in Italy without making it feel strange. How she’d told him it was okay to take a break.
Nobody had said that to him in a very long time.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
This was dangerous.
Because Portugal was getting closer.
And once she boarded that plane…That would be it.
They reached their hotel outside Marseille just before sunset.
It was a small stone building surrounded by olive trees, quiet enough that all Mingi could hear when he stepped outside was the distant sound of cicadas.
After dinner, Y/N announced she was going to explore the little bookstore they’d passed earlier.
„I’ll only be half an hour.“
„You said that at the last bookstore.“
„I meant it.“
He laughed. „Have fun.“
Once she’d disappeared down the street, he sat on the little balcony outside their room.
His phone buzzed.
Perfect timing.
He pressed the familiar group video call.
One by one, familiar faces appeared.
Wooyoung.
San.
Yeosang.
Yunho.
Jongho.
Seonghwa.
Finally Hongjoong.
„There he is!“ Wooyoung grinned. „The European traveler.“
„You look relaxed,“ Yunho observed.
„I am.“
Hongjoong leaned closer to his camera.
„So…How’s your trip?“
Mingi smiled. „It’s been…“ He searched for the right word. „…really nice.“
„You’ve been gone almost a month now,“ San said. „Still enjoying it?“
„I think I needed it.“
Hongjoong nodded. „I can tell.“
Then Wooyoung smirked.
„So…how’s the stranded girl?“
Seven pairs of eyes suddenly watched him a little too closely.
Mingi laughed. „She’s good.“
„Her car?“
„Dead.“
„Ouch.“
„So…“ Yeosang asked. „…what happened?“
Mingi explained everything.
The mechanic.
The rental companies being fully booked.
His suggestion that they simply continue the road trip together.
The mountains.
Italy.
The tiny towns.
The anime every evening.
By the time he finished, nobody interrupted him.
Instead…
They were smiling.
„You seem happy,“ Yunho said quietly.
Mingi looked away toward the setting sun. „…I am.“
Hongjoong noticed immediately. „You like spending time with her.“
It wasn’t really a question.
Mingi smiled. „I do.“
„What is she like?“ Jongho asked.
He thought for a second.
„She’s…“ He laughed softly. „…very curious.“
„She gets excited over tiny things.“
„Yesterday she spent twenty minutes talking to an old fisherman because she wanted to know why he repaired his nets by hand.“
The members chuckled.
„She laughs at my stories. She bullies me with our own songs.“
Wooyoung burst out laughing. „I knew I’d like her.“
„And…“ Mingi smiled to himself. „…she’s kind. Really kind.“
„When she listens…“ He paused. „…she actually listens.“
The call fell quiet.
Hongjoong rested his chin on his hand.
„You know…“
„What?“
„I haven’t heard you talk about someone like that in a long time.“
Mingi blinked.
Had he really?
He thought back over everything he’d just said.
The smile that hadn’t left his face once.
The warmth in his chest every time he’d mentioned her.
His eyes drifted toward the little bookstore across the street.
Through the window he could just make out Y/N wandering between shelves with a book in her hands.
He smiled again without realizing it.
„…Yeah,“ he admitted quietly. „I guess I haven’t.“
Mingi had barely finished speaking when Seonghwa leaned a little closer to his camera.
One eyebrow slowly disappeared beneath his fringe.
„So…“
Mingi already knew that tone. „…what?“
Seonghwa smiled. „Do you like her?“
Mingi blinked. „What kind of question is that?“
„A very simple one.“
„Of course I like her.“ He frowned. „I wouldn’t still be traveling with her if I didn’t.“
Across the call, Wooyoung groaned dramatically.
„Oh my god.“
„He doesn’t get it.“
Yunho laughed.
„He genuinely doesn’t.“
Mingi looked from one face to another.
„What?“
Seonghwa rested his chin in his hand, looking far too amused.
„I know you like her. That’s obvious.“
„What I meant…“ His smile widened. „…is whether you like her.“
The words landed with surprising force.
Mingi stared.
His mouth opened.
Then closed again.
„…Oh.“
The seven of them watched him in complete silence.
For once, nobody interrupted.
Nobody made a joke.
Mingi looked away from the screen.
The little street outside had turned golden beneath the evening sun. A couple walked hand in hand past the bookstore while someone laughed somewhere farther down the road.
Did he…?
He thought about Y/N singing Harry Styles far too loudly.
About the way she always insisted on stopping for every scenic overlook.
About holding his hand in Italy.
About the ridiculous second shower she’d taken last night.
About the fact that he now looked for her every time she disappeared into a shop.
He slowly rubbed the back of his neck.
„I…“ He let out a quiet breath. „I honestly don’t know.“
Nobody said anything.
„I could.“
His own answer surprised him.
„I think…“ He searched for the words. „…I think I could.“
A small smile appeared on Seonghwa’s face.
„But?“
Mingi laughed softly. „The trip is almost over.“
His smile became smaller.
„Portugal is only a few days away. Then she’ll fly to Seoul.“
He shrugged.
„So maybe, I’ll never really find out.“
The call fell quiet.
Hongjoong looked thoughtful.
Before anyone could continue, the door behind him opened.
Mingi instinctively turned around.
Y/N stepped inside carrying a small paper bag and two books pressed against her chest.
„I found one!“
She smiled brightly before noticing the tablet on the balcony table.
„…Oh.“
Seven unfamiliar faces immediately looked back at her.
She froze. „…Hi?“
The members collectively leaned closer to their cameras.
Wooyoung practically waved both hands.
„Hi!“
San smiled warmly.
„Hello!“
Yunho lifted his hand in greeting.
Yeosang smiled politely.
Jongho…
Jongho looked between Y/N and Mingi once before a slow grin spread across his face.
„So…“ He looked directly at Mingi. „…I can see why you stopped the car.“
She looked down at the paper bag in her hands as if it had suddenly become the most interesting object in the world.
Mingi immediately sat up straighter.
„Don’t.“
Seven innocent faces stared back at him.
„What?“
„Don’t make it weird.“
„We’re not.“
„You are.“
„We’re complimenting her.“
„You’re embarrassing her.“
Y/N gave an awkward little laugh somewhere behind him.
Wooyoung pointed dramatically at the screen.
„Oh, he’s protective now.“
„Interesting.“ Hongjoong covered his mouth to hide his smile.
San was already laughing.
Even Jongho looked suspiciously pleased with himself.
Mingi sighed. „I am hanging up.“
„Aww.“
„Bye.“
„Tell Y/N we said hello!“
He quickly ended the call before anyone could make things even worse.
Silence settled over the balcony.
Mingi buried his face in one hand.
„…I’m sorry.“ He turned toward Y/N. „They’re usually…“
He thought for a second.
„…Actually, no. They’re exactly like that.“
He expected her to look uncomfortable.
Embarrassed.
Maybe even overwhelmed.
Instead… She was smiling.
Not just smiling.
Grinning.
From one ear to the other.
„What?“ He asked.
She laughed. „They’re chaos.“
„They are.“
„But…“ She shrugged. „…they seem really nice.“
„They’re idiots.“
„I liked them.“
„They’re still idiots.“
„I believe that too.“
He couldn’t help smiling.
„I apologize on behalf of the idiots.“
„They did compliment me.“
„They absolutely shouldn’t have done it like that.“
She waved him off. „It’s okay.“
„They reminded me of my university friends.“
She placed her books on the little balcony table before sitting in the chair beside him.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The evening breeze carried the smell of the sea all the way into town.
Y/N looked toward the dark screen of his tablet.
„…Do you miss them?“
The question caught him off guard.
He looked down at his hands. „…Yeah.“
A quiet smile appeared. „I do.“
„They’re loud. They never let me have a serious conversation.“
She smiled knowingly. „I noticed.“
„But…“ He looked toward the sunset. „…I miss them.“
His expression slowly changed.
„I just…“ He sighed. „I’m still not sure if I miss…“
He searched for the words. „…everything else.“
„The idol life.“
Y/N stayed quiet.
She never rushed him.
Never tried filling silences.
Instead she simply asked,
„Can I ask you something?“
He nodded.
„Do you like making music?“
„…Yes.“
„Do you like performing with your members?“
A small smile appeared automatically.
„Yes.“
„Do you like seeing people connect with your songs?“
„…Yes.“
„Do you like standing on stage and making thousands of people happy?“
He didn’t even have to think.
„Yes.“
She nodded thoughtfully.
Then she stood.
Mingi looked up as she walked around the little table until she was standing in front of him.
„What are you doing?“
Instead of answering, she reached up with one hand and gently brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead.
It was such a simple gesture.
So casual.
Yet it made him completely forget what he’d been about to say.
She smiled softly.
„I think…“
She looked him straight in the eyes.
„…you already have your answer.“
Before he could react, she lightly tapped the tip of his nose with one finger.
Boop.
„There.“
She smiled proudly.
„Professional life advice.“
Mingi stared at her.
„…Did you just…“
„Boop your nose?“
„Yes.“
„I did.“
„…Why?“
She shrugged.
„It felt appropriate.“
He laughed.
He couldn’t help it.
The kind that left his chest feeling lighter.
Y/N smiled triumphantly.
„Ahh I love that smile.“
„What?“
„I missed it.“
He looked at her for a long second.
Somehow…
Without realizing it…
She had managed to untangle something inside him that weeks of traveling alone hadn’t been able to touch.
And she had done it with four questions…
…and a boop on the nose.
If someone had told him a week ago that a stranger with a broken-down car would become the person who understood him best…
He would’ve laughed.
He wasn’t laughing anymore.
He was simply wondering how he was supposed to say goodbye to her in a few days.
Portugal somehow felt different from every place they had visited before.
Maybe because neither of them could pretend there were endless roads ahead anymore.
This was the last stop.
Tomorrow, Y/N would board a plane to Seoul.
Tomorrow, he would... he wasn't even sure.
Go back to traveling alone for a while.
Eventually return to Korea.
Eventually decide whether he was ready to step back onto a stage.
He had spent the entire drive trying not to think about tomorrow.
He wasn't doing a very good job.
The little coastal town they had chosen for their final night was old enough that most of its streets were too narrow for cars. Whitewashed buildings climbed up the hillside, balconies overflowing with flowers, while the Atlantic stretched endlessly below them.
It was beautiful.
Painfully beautiful.
Because every breathtaking view now came with the quiet reminder that there weren't many left to share with her.
They wandered through the streets until they found a tiny restaurant tucked into an alley overlooking the water.
There were only a handful of tables outside.
An elderly woman welcomed them with a warm smile and disappeared inside before they had even opened the menus.
"I don't think she actually expected us to order," Y/N whispered. "I think she's already decided what to eat."
A minute later, the woman returned carrying two glasses of homemade lemonade.
"No menu," she announced proudly in accented English. "You eat what my husband cooks."
Y/N looked at Mingi. "I kind of love that."
"So do I."
They surrendered immediately.
Neither of them regretted it.
Fresh grilled fish.
Roasted vegetables.
Warm bread.
The best potatoes Mingi had eaten in his life.
At one point the elderly owner returned to refill their glasses.
She looked between them with a soft smile.
"You two..." She clasped her hands together. "...very beautiful couple."
Both of them froze.
Y/N nearly inhaled her lemonade the wrong way.
Mingi coughed into his hand.
"Oh..."
Y/N smiled awkwardly.
"We're actually—"
The woman waved her hand.
"No, no."
She smiled knowingly.
"I see."
Mingi blinked.
"...See what?"
She pointed between them. "The way you look."
Then she patted Y/N's shoulder affectionately.
"Very sweet."
Before either of them could respond, she disappeared inside again.
Silence settled over the table.
Y/N stared very intently at her potatoes.
Mingi suddenly found the ocean fascinating.
After a few seconds she laughed quietly.
"That was..."
"Unexpected."
"Very."
She glanced at him.
"I guess we spend a lot of time together."
"...Yeah."
"And we're traveling."
"...Yeah."
"So people probably assume."
He nodded.
"Probably."
But even after the conversation moved on...
The old woman's words lingered.
Not because strangers had mistaken them for a couple.
That had happened before.
At cafés.
On trains.
In little shops.
Usually they laughed it off.
This time...It had felt different.
Mingi wasn't entirely sure why.
Or maybe he was.
Over the last few days...Something had changed.
He noticed it in the quiet moments.
When their hands brushed while reaching for the same map.
When she laughed at one of his terrible jokes.
When she looked at him instead of the scenery after seeing something beautiful, as if checking whether he had seen it too.
Maybe he was imagining it.
Maybe he wasn't.
He honestly couldn't tell anymore.
After dinner they walked down toward the beach.
The tide was low.
Gentle waves rolled across wet sand that reflected the orange sky like glass.
Y/N slipped off her sandals almost immediately.
"The water isn't even cold."
She stepped into the shallow waves, gathering the hem of her dress in one hand.
Mingi stayed farther back, watching her.
The wind caught her hair, lifting a few loose strands across her face.
She wasn't doing anything extraordinary.
She simply stood there.
Watching the sunset.
The ocean stretched endlessly behind her while everything around them glowed gold.
Without thinking, Mingi reached for his camera.
Click.
The shutter echoed softly.
At the exact same moment...Y/N turned around.
She found him immediately.
Instead of looking annoyed...She smiled.
Not the polite smile she gave strangers.
Not the sarcastic one she reserved for teasing him.
This one.
The one he'd come to recognize over the past week.
Small.
Warm.
Completely genuine.
It always reached her eyes.
For some reason...It felt like it only ever appeared when she forgot to guard herself.
When she was simply Happy.
His finger remained resting lightly on the camera.
He knew that photograph would become his favorite.
She walked back toward him through the water.
"What?" she asked.
"You looked..." He stopped himself.
"What?"
"...Happy."
She smiled again. "I am."
His chest tightened.
They continued walking in silence.
The beach was almost empty now.
Only a few distant silhouettes remained.
The waves washed quietly over the sand before retreating again.
Mingi slipped one hand into his pocket.
Tomorrow.
She'd be gone tomorrow.
The thought suddenly felt unbearable.
He tried imagining getting back into the car without her notebook on the dashboard.
Without Harry Styles playing far too loudly.
Without someone insisting they stop every thirty minutes because she'd spotted another "cute little place."
The passenger seat would be empty again.
The silence he'd spent a month searching for suddenly sounded awful.
His heart actually hurt.
The realization arrived so quietly that he almost missed it.
He didn't just enjoy traveling with her.
He didn't just think she was funny.
Or kind. Or beautiful.
Somewhere between a broken-down car, mountain roads, terrible singing and anime every evening...
He had fallen for her.
He stopped walking.
Y/N, still looking toward the ocean, took another step before bumping lightly into his back.
"Oh!"
She lost her balance for a split second.
Instinct took over.
Mingi turned immediately, catching her by the hips before she could stumble backward.
"You okay?"
She nodded automatically.
"Yeah."
Neither of them moved.
His hands remained lightly against her waist.
She was much closer than he'd expected.
Close enough that he could see tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose.
Close enough to notice the breeze lifting a strand of hair across her cheek.
Close enough to hear her breathing.
The sunset painted everything around them in soft orange light.
She looked up at him.
"What is it?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Mingi swallowed.
He had never been particularly good at hiding what he felt.
Especially not from her.
"I..." He smiled sadly. "I don't want this to end."
Her expression softened.
"I don't want you to leave."
His thumb moved unconsciously, brushing lightly over the curve of her hip through the fabric of her dress.
"I've been trying not to think about tomorrow."
"But..." He laughed quietly at himself. "...it's all I can think about."
Y/N didn't answer.
She simply looked at him.
There was something in her eyes he couldn't quite name.
Or maybe...He finally could.
Neither of them seemed willing to look away.
The space between them somehow grew even smaller.
He watched her glance briefly toward his lips before meeting his eyes again.
His heartbeat became almost painfully loud.
Very slowly he leaned forward.
She met him halfway.
Their lips touched so gently that, for a heartbeat, Mingi wasn't even sure it had happened.
It was soft.
Careful.
Almost questioning.
When they pulled back again, neither of them spoke.
They simply stared at each other.
The ocean continued rolling onto the shore behind them.
The world carried on exactly as before.
Only theirs had quietly shifted.
Y/N's forehead rested lightly against his for a brief moment.
She smiled.
The same smile from the photograph.
His favorite one.
Mingi smiled back without realizing it.
Neither of them knew who moved first.
Maybe they both did.
This time there was no hesitation.
He cupped her cheek gently as she reached for the front of his shirt, closing the small distance between them again.
Their second kiss lingered longer than the first.
Neither of them seemed ready to let the moment end.
Tomorrow no longer felt like something they could pretend wasn't coming. So Mingi leaned in once more, but now with nothing stopping him anymore.
Your car breaks down on day one of your dream road trip through Europe. Mingi, a stranger traveling the same way, offers you a ride. One impulsive decision turns into two weeks of tiny coastal towns, mountain roads, anime nights, stolen sunsets, and slowly falling in love with someone you were never supposed to meet. Sometimes the best adventures begin with the worst detours.
Pairing: Song Mingi × Reader (Y/N)
Genre: Romance, Road Trip, Slice of Life, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Idol Au
Y/N had always imagined leaving would feel bigger.
More dramatic, maybe. Like the kind of moment movies loved to stretch out with soft music and slow motion. A suitcase by the door. A final look around the room. A tearful goodbye. The feeling that the whole world had paused for a second just to watch her step into the next chapter of her life.
In reality, leaving was much messier than that.
It was a half-empty coffee cup balanced dangerously on the roof of her car while she tried to fit one last bag into the trunk. It was her jacket sleeve getting caught in the zipper of her suitcase. It was her mother calling from the kitchen window for the third time to ask if she had packed her passport, even though Y/N had checked for it at least six times already.
“Yes, Mom,” Y/N called back, pushing her suitcase down with both hands. “I have my passport.”
“And your documents?”
“Yes.”
“And the copies?”
“Yes.”
“And the Korean paperwork?”
Y/N paused, then lifted her head just enough to look over the open trunk. “Yes Mom I have everything.”
Her mother appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, looking entirely unconvinced. “You say that now, but when you stand at the airport and something is missing, you will hear my voice in your head.”
Y/N smiled despite the tight feeling in her chest. She had been hearing her mother’s voice in her head for years.
Sometimes it was comforting. Sometimes it was annoying. Most of the time it was both.
“I packed everything and looked after everythinh.” she promised. “Twice.”
Her mother’s eyes softened.
Y/N quickly turned back to the trunk before the emotion on her mother’s face could settle too deeply inside her. She had already cried last night while folding laundry. She had cried again that morning while brushing her teeth, which had felt especially pathetic because there was nothing poetic about sobbing with toothpaste foam in her mouth.
She was excited. She really was.
Moving to Seoul had been her dream for so long that it still didn’t feel completely real. A job offer in the city she had talked about since she was a teenager. A real apartment waiting for her. A new team, a new routine, a new life.
And still, every time she looked back at the house she had grown up in, her stomach twisted. Maybe that was why she had decided to drive first.
Not to Seoul, obviously. Her old car would never survive that kind of journey, even if there was an ocean conveniently removed from the route.
But through Europe. One last road trip before her flight. One last stretch of freedom before she packed herself into an airplane seat and crossed into the life she had been working toward for years.
Three weeks. A loose route. A car full of too many snacks.
And no one to answer to except herself.
It had sounded romantic when she planned it. Now, with her mother watching from the doorway and her father pretending not to be emotional by checking her tire pressure for the second time, it felt terrifying.
Her father straightened beside the front wheel and wiped his hands on a cloth. “Pressure is good,” he said.
“You checked it yesterday.”
“I checked it again today.”
“I noticed.”
He gave her a look. “You will thank me when you do not end up stranded somewhere.”
Y/N laughed softly. “That is very specific.”
“It is a father’s job to imagine specific disasters.”
He walked around to the driver’s side and bent down slightly to look at the tires again, as if one of them might have dramatically changed in the last thirty seconds.
Y/N watched him for a moment.
Then she looked at the car. Her car.
Technically, it was too old for an adventure like this. It had scratches along the passenger door, a stubborn trunk, and a radio that sometimes changed stations when she drove over a bump. The air conditioning had two settings: barely alive and suspiciously loud. One of the cup holders was broken. The passenger window got stuck if someone rolled it down too far.
But it was hers.
It had taken her to university. To her first job interview. To late-night supermarket runs. To friends’ houses, bad dates, good dates, and quiet parking lots where she had sat with music playing because she needed five more minutes before going home.
She knew the sound of its engine better than she knew most people’s voices. Maybe that was why she trusted it more than she should have.
Her mother came outside just as Y/N finally managed to slam the trunk shut. “Send your location every evening,” she said.
“I will.”
“And do not drive too long without breaks.”
“I won’t.”
“And do not pick up strangers.”
Y/N turned slowly. “Mom.”
Her mother raised her eyebrows. “What?”
“I’m not going to pick up strangers.”
“Good.”
“I’m twenty-four, not sixteen.”
“And still my child.”
That ended the argument because it always did. Her mother stepped closer and smoothed a hand over Y/N’s hair, fixing something that didn’t need fixing. Y/N let her.
For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. Then her mother pulled her into a hug.
It was tight. Warm. Familiar.
Y/N closed her eyes.
“You will be okay,” her mother whispered in Korean.
That nearly broke her.
“I know,” Y/N whispered back, also in Korean.
Her father joined the hug a second later, pretending it was casual and failing terribly. Y/N laughed into her mother’s shoulder, which made all three of them laugh, and somehow that helped.
The goodbye did not feel like a movie. It felt like her mother pressing snacks into her hands after the car was already packed. It felt like her father telling her to call immediately if anything sounded strange. It felt like waving through the windshield while backing out of the driveway, blinking too quickly because the house blurred behind her.
It felt real.
And maybe that was bigger than a movie.
For the first twenty minutes, Y/N drove in silence. She didn’t trust herself with music yet.
The roads near home were too familiar. The bakery on the corner. The petrol station where she always forgot which pump worked with card. The little park where she had once fallen off her bike and refused to admit she was crying because it hurt. The traffic light that always took too long.
Everything looked exactly the same. She was the only thing leaving.
When she reached the highway, she finally let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Then she turned on her playlist. The first song filled the car, bright and loud and full of promise.
Y/N smiled. “Okay,” she said to herself. “Adventure.”
The word felt silly spoken aloud, but it also made her chest loosen.She adjusted her sunglasses, checked the mirrors, and pressed her foot a little more firmly on the gas.
The city thinned out behind her. Buildings turned into fields, fields turned into forest, and soon the road stretched wide and open beneath a sky so blue it looked freshly painted.
She had planned the first day carefully, but not too carefully. That was the rule for this trip.
No strict schedule. No rushing. No feeling guilty for changing her mind.
She had a vague destination for the night, a small town near the border with a cheap guesthouse and good reviews. Everything else was optional. Coffee stops, scenic roads, random villages, roadside markets. Whatever looked interesting.
Her notebook sat on the passenger seat, already stuffed with printed reservations, handwritten notes, and a folded map she didn’t really need but liked having anyway. There was something comforting about paper. About being able to trace a route with her finger instead of trusting a glowing screen to know everything.
About an hour into the drive, the nervousness started to change.
It didn’t disappear completely. It became something else.
Excitement, maybe.
The kind that sat low in her stomach and made her feel like she was getting away with something.
She was really doing this. She was driving across countries by herself.
She was going to take photographs of places no one had dragged her to. She was going to eat whatever she wanted for dinner. She was going to sleep in strange little rooms and wake up not knowing exactly what the day would bring.
And after that, Seoul.
The thought made her fingers tighten around the steering wheel.
Seoul. It still sounded impossible.
She had visited before, but visiting was different. Visiting meant return tickets, hotel keys, and careful translations when she didn’t know a word. Living there meant grocery shopping, work emails, awkward introductions, missing home, and figuring out whether the Korean part of her would feel more at home there or strangely more foreign.
That was the thing she had not told many people.
She was excited to move. She was also afraid that Seoul would look at her and immediately know she did not fully belong.
Half Korean. Half something else.
Always enough to be asked questions. Never enough to avoid them.
In Germany, people heard her Korean name and asked where she was really from.In Korea, people heard her accent and asked where she learned the language.
She had spent most of her life balancing between answers.
Maybe Seoul would not fix that. Maybe nothing would.
But the job was good. The timing was right. And somewhere beneath all the fear was a stubborn, hopeful part of her that wanted to try anyway.
A sign announced the next rest stop.
Y/N glanced at the fuel gauge. Still fine.
But she stopped anyway. Because she could.
That was the beauty of traveling alone.
No one sighed when she changed plans. No one asked why she needed coffee already. No one complained when she spent ten minutes choosing between two pastries that looked almost exactly the same.
The rest stop was small but busy. Families stood around open trunks, passing sandwiches and water bottles to children. An older couple sat on a bench sharing fries. A group of motorcyclists laughed near the entrance, helmets tucked under their arms.
Y/N bought an iced coffee, a bottle of water, and the pastry with almonds because it looked slightly more dramatic than the other one.
Back at the car, she leaned against the driver’s side door and took a photo of the sky.
Not because it was special. Because she was there beneath it.
She sent the picture to her mother with a short message.
Still alive. Coffee acquired.
The reply came almost immediately.
Good. Eat something proper too.
Y/N smiled.
She placed the coffee in the working cup holder, the water bottle in the broken one where it leaned slightly to the left, and the pastry on the passenger seat beside her notebook.
Then she continued.
By the time she had driven almost five hundred kilometers, she felt different.
Lighter.
Not completely carefree, but close enough to understand why people chased that feeling.
The highway had grown quieter. Her navigation guided her away from the fastest route and onto a smaller road that cut through wide green hills and sleepy villages. It would add half an hour to the journey, but the view was worth it.
At least, that was what she thought at first.
Then the car made a noise. A faint clicking beneath the steady hum of the engine.
Y/N lowered the music.
For a moment, nothing happened.
She waited, eyes flicking between the road and the dashboard.
Click.
Her lips pressed together. “No,” she said.
The car, naturally, did not answer.
Another click followed. Then another.
Y/N sat up straighter.
“It’s fine,” she told herself. “Old cars make noises. People make noises when they get old too.”
That comparison did not comfort her as much as she hoped.
She checked the dashboard. No warning lights. The temperature gauge looked normal. The fuel gauge was fine. Nothing flashed. Nothing screamed for attention.
So she kept driving.
For another ten minutes, the clicking came and went. Sometimes she convinced herself it had stopped. Then it returned, a little louder than before.
The road curved between fields dotted with yellow flowers. There were no houses nearby, no petrol station, no obvious place to pull over except a narrow patch of gravel ahead.
Y/N slowed down and guided the car onto it. The moment she stopped, the engine shuddered.
Her heart dropped. “No, no, no. Don’t do that.”
The engine gave another rough shake. Then a warning light appeared.
Y/N stared at it. She knew enough about cars to understand that lights were generally bad. She did not know enough to understand which level of bad this particular light represented.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay, maybe we just need a small break.”
She turned the engine off.
The sudden silence felt too heavy. Outside, the countryside carried on like nothing had happened. Wind brushed through the tall grass. Somewhere far away, a bird called. A tractor moved slowly across a field in the distance.
Y/N sat there with both hands on the steering wheel.
Then she tried to start the car again. The engine coughed.
Once.
Twice.
Then failed.
She closed her eyes. “Please don’t do this to me.”
She tried again. The car made an ugly grinding sound that made her immediately stop.
For a second, she simply sat there.
Then she laughed. Not because anything was funny, but because the alternative was crying and she had done enough of that for one week.
“You dramatic little piece of metal,” she muttered.
She grabbed her phone and checked the signal.
One bar. Of course.
She got out of the car and immediately felt the heat of the afternoon settle over her shoulders. The road was quiet, with only the occasional car passing too quickly to notice her properly.
Y/N walked to the front, opened the hood, and stared down at the engine.
The engine stared back. At least, that was how it felt.
There were pipes. Metal parts. A cap she was almost certain she should not touch. Something that looked important. Many things that looked expensive.
She pulled up a video online titled What to Do When Your Car Breaks Down, but it buffered after seven seconds.
The first seven seconds told her to stay calm.
Wonderful. Very useful.
She crouched slightly and looked closer, as if the problem might reveal itself out of pity.
It did not.
There was no smoke. No dramatic leaking. No visible fire, which she decided was a positive sign.
“See?” she told the car. “We can work with this.”
A car drove past, stirring her hair into her face. It did not stop.
Y/N wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and accidentally left a faint smudge of grease on her skin from touching something she probably shouldn’t have touched.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from her mother.
What are you eating?
Y/N looked at the open hood. Then at the empty road. Then back at the message.
She typed, Almond pastry.
It was not a lie. Not the whole truth either, but mothers had a way of sensing disaster through punctuation alone, so she kept it short.
Then she opened the roadside assistance app.
The app loaded. And loaded. And loaded.
Y/N lifted the phone higher. One bar became two for a glorious second, then dropped back to one.
“Come on.” She walked a few steps away from the car, holding the phone up like an offering to the sky.
Nothing.
She walked farther. Still nothing.
A little farther. The signal returned.
She froze, afraid breathing too hard might scare it away.
The call connected after three attempts. “Hello, roadside assistance, how can I help you?”
Y/N nearly sagged with relief. “Hi. My car broke down. I’m on a country road, about...” She turned in a slow circle, looking for anything that might help. “About one hundred kilometers from where I started and apparently in the middle of nowhere.”
The woman on the phone remained professionally calm. “Are you in a safe location?”
“I think so. I pulled over onto gravel.”
“Are you injured?”
“No.”
“Is there smoke or fire?”
“No.”
“Good. Can you share your location through the app?”
“I can try, but the signal is terrible.”
It took several painful minutes. The app crashed once. The call cut out twice. Y/N moved around the side of the road like she was performing some strange ritual for better reception.
Eventually, the woman confirmed the location. “A tow truck can reach you in approximately three hozrs.”
Y/N stared at the fields. “Three hours?”
“I’m sorry. You are quite far from the nearest station.” Of course she was.
Because apparently her adventure had decided to become a character-building exercise on day one.
“Okay,” Y/N said, forcing her voice to remain polite. “Thank you.”
After the call ended, she stood very still for a moment.
Then she walked back to the car, closed the hood, and leaned against the front bumper.
Three hours. She could handle three hours.
She had handled worse than that.
She had survived final exams, job interviews, family gatherings where distant relatives asked deeply personal questions, and one horrifying office Christmas party where her manager had sung karaoke for six minutes straight.
Three hours on a quiet road would not defeat her. Probably.
She opened the passenger door, retrieved her pastry, and took a bite.
It was slightly dry.
She chewed slowly, staring at the landscape. “Well,” she said to no one, “at least the view is nice.”
And it was.Annoyingly, unfairly nice.
The hills rolled gently toward the horizon. The sky had softened from bright blue into a warmer shade, with thin clouds stretching like brushstrokes above the fields. The road curved ahead and disappeared between trees, making it look as if it led somewhere magical instead of, most likely, more inconvenience.
She sat sideways in the driver’s seat with the door open, one foot resting on the gravel, and ate the rest of her pastry while waiting for rescue.
Now and then, a car passed. Most did not slow.
One older man in a blue van honked gently and gave her a questioning thumbs-up. Y/N lifted her phone and nodded to show help was coming. He waved and continued down the road.
The sun moved lower. The air cooled slightly.
Her excitement from earlier had not vanished completely, but it had changed shape. It sat somewhere under the frustration now, stubborn and flickering.
This was not how the trip was supposed to begin. But maybe beginnings were rarely clean. Maybe leaving home, moving countries, starting over, and becoming someone new was never going to begin with perfect weather and perfect roads and a perfectly behaved car.
Maybe the universe had a sense of humor. A very irritating one.
Y/N leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.
In two weeks, she would be in Seoul. In two weeks, this road, this broken car, this strange little patch of gravel in the middle of nowhere would already be a story.
Maybe even a funny one. She tried to imagine telling someone about it later.
My car broke down on the first day.
Then what happened?
She opened her eyes. The empty road stretched ahead.
“I have absolutely no idea,” she whispered.
Five hours.
Y/N had officially been stranded for five hours.
At first, she had done everything she could think of to stay occupied.
She had finished her pastry. She had walked a few hundred meters up and down the road, hoping to find better reception. She had counted passing cars. She had reorganized the already perfectly organized trunk. She had even attempted to read a chapter of the novel she had packed for the trip.
None of it had worked.
Every few minutes her eyes drifted back to the empty road.
No tow truck. No flashing yellow lights. Nothing.
The afternoon sun had slowly made its way across the sky, replacing the bright blue above her with warm shades of orange and pink.
It would have been beautiful under different circumstances. Instead, every passing minute tied another knot in her stomach.
She glanced at her phone again.
No missed calls. No messages from roadside assistance.
She sighed before pressing the call button once more.
The line didn't even begin to ring. "No service."
She frowned. "What?"
Y/N climbed out of the car and held her phone toward the sky.
One bar. Then none.
She took another step. Another. Still nothing.
"Oh, come on..."
The screen flickered between one lonely signal bar and complete emptiness.
She tried again anyway. Nothing.
She walked farther down the roadside until she found a small hill overlooking the fields.
One bar returned. Immediately she pressed the number.
The phone started dialing. Then the screen went black.
She stared at her reflection. "No."
She pressed the power button. Nothing. "...No."
A sinking feeling settled deep inside her chest.
She had forgotten to charge it at the last rest stop. The battery warning had popped up earlier while she had been waiting, and she had convinced herself she'd charge it once the tow truck arrived.
The tow truck never had. Now her phone was completely dead.
For a long moment she simply stood there. The silence surrounding her suddenly felt much louder.
She laughed once. A short, exhausted laugh. "Of course."
She slipped the useless phone back into her pocket before making her way back to the car. The first stars were beginning to appear above the fields. The road had become quieter too.
Every now and then another car passed, but they grew farther apart as daylight disappeared.
Y/N leaned against the driver's door and wrapped her arms around herself.
This wasn't dangerous.
She reminded herself of that several times. She was on a public road.
People drove past.
Eventually someone would come. Eventually.
The thought of spending the night inside her car was becoming less ridiculous by the minute.
She looked around.
There wasn't a single building in sight. No gas station. No café. No hotel.
Just fields stretching endlessly in both directions.
Her stomach growled. "Wonderful."
She had exactly one bottle of water left. Half a bag of chips. And two cereal bars she'd packed because her mother insisted every trip required emergency snacks.
Maybe mothers really did know everything. The realization made her smile for exactly three seconds before the smile faded again.
Her parents.
Her mother was probably already wondering why she hadn't sent another picture. Her father would pretend not to worry.
He'd probably tell her mother that the roads were busy and she was simply enjoying herself. Then he'd start worrying too.
Y/N rubbed her face. The frustration she'd managed to keep under control all afternoon finally started catching up with her.
"This trip is going great," she muttered sarcastically. "Absolutely fantastic."
A cool evening breeze brushed through her hair.
She climbed into the driver's seat and left the door open, watching the sky turn darker with every passing minute.
Maybe she'd lock the doors and sleep here. Tomorrow morning someone would surely drive by. Or the tow truck would finally arrive.
A pair of headlights appeared in the distance.
Y/N sat up immediately.
The lights grew closer.
A black SUV.
The vehicle slowed.
Then to her immense relief it pulled onto the gravel shoulder a few meters in front of her.
Y/N let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
The driver's door opened.
Long legs stepped onto the road first.
Then the rest of him.
He was... tall. Ridiculously tall. Even from several meters away she could tell he easily towered over her. He wore a simple white T-shirt beneath a dark overshirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and comfortable jeans that looked more suited for sightseeing than anything fashionable.
A baseball cap shaded part of his face. As he approached, she noticed how broad his shoulders were.
He looked like someone who had never struggled lifting heavy luggage in his life.
He slowed once he was close enough not to startle her.
His smile was hesitant. Almost apologetic.
"Uh..." He pointed toward her car. "You... okay?"
The accent caught her attention first. Korean.
His English was careful, like he was mentally translating every word before saying it.
Y/N blinked in surprise.
Of all the people she had expected to meet on an empty European country road. A Korean man hadn't even made the list.
He gestured awkwardly toward the open hood. "Car... problem?"
For a second she almost answered in English out of habit.
Instead she smiled with visible relief.
"...네. 큰 문제인 것 같아요." (Yeah. I think it's a pretty big problem.)
The man's eyes widened beneath the brim of his cap.
He froze. "...어?" (...Huh?)
Y/N couldn't help laughing. "You can speak Korean," she continued, this time without forcing herself to search for English words.
"I promise I understood you."
For another second he simply stared at her. Then an amused grin slowly spread across his face.
One that transformed him completely.
His shoulders relaxed. "So you were just letting me struggle?"
She raised both hands innocently. "I was curious how long you'd keep trying."
He laughed. It was deep, warm and surprisingly contagious. "I should've started with Korean."
"I think so too."
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before looking toward the stranded car again.
"So..." He nodded toward it. "What happened?"
Y/N sighed dramatically. "If I knew that, I probably wouldn't still be standing here."
He chuckled. "Fair point."
"I've been waiting for roadside assistance for five hours."
His eyebrows shot up. "Five?"
"And my phone died about five minutes ago."
"...That's rough."
"I've also started considering whether sleeping in my car would permanently ruin my back."
He looked genuinely concerned now. "I hope it doesn't come to that."
"So do I."
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. The evening had become surprisingly quiet. Only the chirping of crickets filled the air between them.
The stranger looked from her to the car once more before taking a few slow steps toward the engine.
"Would you mind..." He pointed at the hood. "...if I took a look?"
Y/N smiled despite herself. "Be my guest."
She stepped aside. "I should warn you though."
"Hm?"
"I already looked at it."
He glanced at her. "...And?"
"I learned that I know absolutely nothing about cars."
A laugh escaped him again. "At least you're honest."
She folded her arms with mock pride. "I try."
As he reached for the hood latch, Y/N found herself studying him for the first time.
He couldn't have been much older than she was. Maybe around twenty-five.
His face was soft despite his height, and there was something unusually gentle about the way he carried himself. He didn't seem rushed or annoyed that his evening had been interrupted by a stranded stranger. If anything, he looked genuinely concerned.
He carefully lifted the hood and peered inside. Y/N watched him, hoping for a miracle.
Although, judging by the thoughtful expression on his face, she had a feeling this adventure had only just begun.
The stranger stayed crouched in front of the open engine for several minutes.
Y/N watched him expectantly. At first, she was convinced he knew what he was doing. He leaned closer, moved a few cables aside with careful fingers, frowned thoughtfully and even nodded to himself once or twice.
He certainly looked like someone who could diagnose an engine.
The last rays of sunlight stretched across the empty road, turning the surrounding fields golden. The warmth of the afternoon slowly disappeared with the light, replaced by the cool breeze that always arrived after sunset.
Y/N rubbed her arms. She walked around the car and opened the trunk.
Thankfully, she had packed for every possible weather. Hiking boots, rain jacket, two sweaters and even a thick knitted pullover her mother had insisted she bring.
"You'll thank me one evening," she had said.
Y/N smiled to herself as she pulled it over her head. "You were right, Mom."
The oversized sleeves covered half her hands, instantly making her feel a little warmer.
When she turned back around, the Korean man was still staring into the engine compartment with the same concentrated expression.
"So?" she asked, walking over.
He stayed quiet for another second. Then he slowly closed the hood.
"I have absolutely no idea."
Y/N blinked. "What?"
He scratched the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed. "I don't know anything about cars."
Silence.
"You..." She pointed toward the engine. "...have been looking at it for almost five minutes."
"I know."
"And you don't know anything?"
"Not even a little."
She stared at him. "So you were just pretending?"
"I was hoping something obvious would jump out at me."
For a second they simply looked at each other.
Then Y/N started laughing. Not a polite little chuckle. A real laugh that bent her forward slightly.
He laughed too. "I probably looked very convincing."
"You looked incredibly convincing."
"I even convinced myself for a moment."
She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "I really thought you knew what you were doing."
"So did I."
Their laughter echoed over the quiet road before slowly fading into comfortable silence. It was strange.
Thirty minutes ago she had been mentally preparing herself to spend the night alone in her car. Now she was laughing with a complete stranger.
He looked down the empty road before glancing back at her. "What are you going to do?"
Y/N sighed.
"I honestly don't know. My phone is dead. I don't know if roadside assistance even knows where I am anymore. And..." She looked at her car. "Sleeping here wasn't exactly part of my vacation plans."
He nodded thoughtfully. Then he hesitated. "I might have an idea."
She looked up.
"I'm staying in a hotel about twenty minutes from here." He pointed toward his SUV. "I could take you there."
Y/N's expression immediately became uncertain.
He noticed. "I know," he said quickly. "That sounds incredibly suspicious."
"A little."
"I can bring you back first thing tomorrow morning."
She stayed quiet.
"I just..." He glanced toward the empty road. "I don't really like the idea of you staying here alone."
Y/N looked around. Now that darkness had settled over the countryside, it suddenly felt much more isolated than before.
The road was almost completely empty. No streetlights. No houses. Nothing except fields and the occasional passing headlights.
Her parents would absolutely lose their minds if they knew where she was.
Still, she didn't know him.
He seemed kind. Funny. Harmless, even. But appearances could be deceiving.
He seemed to understand exactly what she was thinking.
"You don't have to decide immediately," he said softly. "I just wanted to offer."
Y/N studied him for another moment. Something about him felt genuine.
Maybe it was the way he wasn't trying to convince her. Or the fact that he had admitted he knew nothing about cars instead of pretending.
She smiled faintly. "If you turn out to be a serial killer..."
His eyes widened.
"...that would really ruin my vacation."
He burst into laughter. "I promise I'm not."
"I suppose that's exactly what a serial killer would say."
"...You're making this difficult."
"I know."
Another quiet laugh escaped both of them.
Finally, Y/N nodded. "Okay."
"Really?"
"But if you murder me, I'll be very disappointed."
"I'll keep that in mind." He offered her a relieved smile before helping her carry the most important bags into his SUV.
"My suitcase can stay," she said after locking her car. "I'll only need my backpack."
He waited until she had double-checked every door before opening the passenger side for her.
She climbed inside. The car smelled faintly of coffee and clean laundry. A camera rested on the backseat alongside a hiking backpack and a folded map covered in handwritten notes.
"So," she said as they pulled back onto the road. "I guess we're road trip companions now."
He smiled without taking his eyes off the road. "I guess we are."
For a few minutes they simply enjoyed the silence.
It wasn't awkward. More like both of them were trying to figure out who exactly the person beside them was.
Y/N looked out the window. The last orange glow disappeared behind the hills.
Small villages passed by, their windows glowing warmly in the evening.
"So..." she finally said. "I know you speak Korean."
He nodded.
"I know you're bad with cars."
"Very bad."
"And..." She turned toward him. "I don't even know your name."
He looked briefly in her direction before smiling. "I'm Mingi."
"Mingi," she repeated. "I'm Y/N."
"It's nice to meet you."
"You too."
A few seconds passed. "So what do you do, Mingi?"
He was quiet long enough that she wondered if the question had made him uncomfortable.
Finally he answered. "I'm... an Idol."
"Oh?"
He nodded. "I'm in a K-pop group."
Y/N smiled. "Really?"
"Yeah."
"What group?"
"ATEEZ."
She looked at him for a second. He looked completely serious.
Then she laughed. "No, really."
"I am serious."
"You are."
"I promise."
She narrowed her eyes dramatically. "I don't believe you."
"I expected that."
He sounded surprisingly amused. "Most people wouldn't."
"I've never heard someone introduce themselves like that."
He shrugged. "I usually don't."
"So you're joking."
"I'm not."
She folded her arms. "Proof."
He chuckled. "My phone is connected to the car."
He tapped the screen on the dashboard before it displayed a search page.
"Go ahead. Search my name. Song Mingi."
Y/N hesitated.
Then, mostly to humor him, she typed: Song Mingi.
Within seconds Photos filled the screen.
Concert stages. Magazine shoots. Interviews. Fan edits. Millions of search results.
Her eyebrows slowly climbed higher. "...Oh."
She clicked another result.
There he was again.
On stage. Holding a microphone. Surrounded by thousands of fans.
She looked back at him. Then back at the screen. Then at him again.
"You weren't joking."
"I wasn't."
"...You're actually famous."
"I guess."
She blinked several more times. "Huh."
That wasn't exactly the reaction Mingi had expected.
"You don't know us?"
She shook her head. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"I've been so busy finishing university and applying for jobs that I barely listened to anything except whatever Spotify recommended."
He smiled. "Honestly? I kind of like that."
Y/N leaned back in her seat. "So..."
She glanced at another photo of him performing. "Why are you driving through Europe alone if you're... this?"
He let out a slow breath. "I needed some time away."
"From work?"
"From everything." His smile became smaller. "I've been on hiatus."
She turned toward him fully. "You don't have to tell me if it's personal."
He appreciated that. "It's okay. I've spent years running from one schedule to the next. Sometimes I forgot who I was when nobody expected anything from me."
He kept his eyes on the road. "So I decided to disappear for a little while. No managers. No cameras. No expectations. Just..." He smiled softly. "...Mingi."
Y/N nodded slowly. "I think I understand."
He looked at her. "You do?"
She smiled faintly. "Not exactly. But maybe a little."
She looked out at the passing countryside. "In two weeks I'm moving to Seoul."
His eyebrows lifted. "Really?"
She nodded. "I just accepted my first full-time job there."
"Congratulations."
"Thank you."
"I was excited. I still am."
"But..." She laughed quietly. "I realized I'd spent years studying, working and planning for the future. I never really stopped to do something just because I wanted to."
"So I packed my car..." She pointed behind them. "...and decided to drive across Europe before my life becomes very serious."
Mingi smiled. "And then your car broke down."
"Exactly."
"I've only made it a five hundred kilometers."
He laughed. "Not exactly the adventurous start you imagined."
"No." She smiled anyway.
"But..." She glanced at him. "I didn't exactly imagine meeting a K-pop idol either."
About twenty minutes later they arrived at a small countryside hotel tucked between rolling hills.
Warm lights spilled from the windows onto the gravel parking lot.
Y/N let out a relieved sigh. "A bed."
"Hopefully."
They walked inside together. The receptionist greeted them with a polite smile before checking the reservations on the computer.
A minute later her expression changed.
"I'm terribly sorry. There was a plumbing issue this afternoon. Our last available room was given to another guest."
Y/N's heart sank. "So you don't have any rooms left?"
The receptionist shook her head apologetically. "I'm afraid not."
Y/N closed her eyes for a second.
Of course. Why would today suddenly become easy?
Beside her, Mingi looked thoughtful.
Then he cleared his throat. "I have a room."
She looked at him.
"It's... not huge. But it has a sofa."
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "You can take the bed if you want."
She immediately shook her head. "Absolutely not."
"Then..." He smiled sheepishly. "You can take the sofa."
Y/N looked between him and the receptionist. Then back at him.
"This is probably the strangest first day of a vacation anyone has ever had."
Mingi laughed quietly. "I was thinking exactly the same thing."
For the first time since arriving in Europe, Mingi found himself wondering if he had completely lost his mind. He lay on one of the two beds, staring at the ceiling while the bathroom door remained closed.
The shower was running. Steam curled beneath the door. And somewhere in the room, Y/N’s phone was charging beside the television.
He sighed. „What am I doing…“
Helping people wasn’t unusual. Stopping for someone whose car had broken down wasn’t unusual either.
But offering a complete stranger a ride…
Bringing her to his hotel…
Telling her his real name…
Even telling her he was an idol…
That wasn’t like him. Normally he was careful. Painfully careful.
Years in the industry had taught him to think twice before trusting anyone. Every conversation had the potential to end up online. Every stranger could recognize him five minutes later. Every small mistake could become tomorrow’s headline.
Yet somehow…
Standing on that empty country road, watching her laugh after he admitted he knew absolutely nothing about cars…
None of those thoughts had crossed his mind. Instead he’d thought about one thing. She had genuinely been preparing to spend the night alone in her broken-down car.
The idea still made him uncomfortable.
He grabbed the remote and switched on the television. Channel after channel flashed by.
Local news. A cooking competition. Football. Another cooking competition.
„…Nothing.“ He continued pressing buttons until colorful animation suddenly filled the screen.
His eyebrows lifted. „Spy x Family?“
The episode had English subtitles. Good enough.
He smiled to himself. „Guess that’s staying on.“
Before Anya could finish introducing herself, his phone buzzed.
Then again. Then six more times in rapid succession.
Mingi didn’t even have to look.
The group chat. He opened it anyway.
Hongjoong: You alive?
Wooyoung: Did you finally get lost??
San: He definitely got lost.
Yeosang: I give him another hour before he accidentally ends up in another country.
Mingi laughed quietly. He quickly typed.
Mingi: Actually… something happened.
Almost immediately the typing indicators appeared.
Every single member.
Yunho: ???
Jongho: What happened?
Hongjoong: Everything okay?
Mingi scratched the back of his neck.
How exactly was he supposed to explain this?
Mingi: I found someone stranded on the side of the road.
Silence. Three seconds later his phone exploded.
Wooyoung: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FOUND SOMEONE
San: …Please elaborate.
Hongjoong: You stopped?
Yeosang: You actually stopped??
Mingi frowned.
Mingi: Of course I stopped. Her car broke down. She’d been waiting three hours for roadside assistance. Her phone died. There was nobody around.
Another pause.
Hongjoong: Okay. Fair.
Yunho: Makes sense.
Wooyoung: That’s exactly what you’d do.
Mingi smiled.
See? They understood.
Then another message appeared.
Jongho: …Where is she now?
Mingi hesitated.
Then typed.
Mingi: At the hotel.
The chat went silent again.
Completely silent.
He could practically hear the collective sigh through the screen.
Hongjoong: Please tell me she’s in her own room.
Mingi stared at the message.
Then sighed.
Mingi: Long story. Hotel was fully booked. There are two beds.
This time the replies came much faster.
San: Mingi.
Yeosang: Mingi…
Wooyoung: Have you completely lost your survival instincts?
Hongjoong: Does she know who you are?
Mingi looked toward the closed bathroom door.
Steam still drifted underneath it.
He typed back.
Mingi: Yeah. I told her.
The chat practically exploded.
Wooyoung: YOU WHAT???
San: You told a stranger??
Hongjoong: Mingi…
Jongho: That’s unlike you.
Yunho: Damn.
Seonghwa: 🤦♂️
He knew. It was unlike him. Very unlike him.
His thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a moment before he answered.
Mingi: She didn’t believe me. I had to prove it.
Yeosang: That’s somehow even funnier.
Despite himself, Mingi laughed.
Then another message appeared from Hongjoong.
Hongjoong: Just be careful. You don’t know her. She could leak where you are. Take photos. Tell people. Or worse.
Mingi leaned back against the headboard.
He understood the concern. Really, he did.
If the roles were reversed, he’d probably be sending the same messages.
He thought about Y/N standing beside her broken car with grease on her cheek, joking that she’d be „very disappointed“ if he turned out to be a serial killer.
He smiled.
Mingi: I know. But I honestly think she’s nice. She was genuinely planning to sleep in her car. I couldn’t just leave her there.
Several seconds passed before Hongjoong finally replied.
Hongjoong: Yeah. I probably wouldn’t have either.
Yunho: Just text us tomorrow morning so we know you’re alive.
Wooyoung: And if she steals your car I’m never letting you forget it.
Mingi shook his head, smiling as he locked his phone.
He placed it on the bedside table and looked back at the television.
Anya was already causing complete chaos.
„Sorry,“ he murmured to the screen. „I missed half the episode.“
He settled deeper into the pillows. The room was quiet now except for the television and the steady sound of the shower.
It felt… Oddly peaceful.
A little while later, the bathroom door opened.
Mingi glanced over instinctively. Y/N stepped out wearing an oversized sweatshirt and comfortable sweatpants, her hair still damp from the shower. She smiled politely before picking up her phone from the charger.
„It finally turned back on,“ she said.
„Good.“
„I should probably call my parents before they report me missing.“
He chuckled. „That’s probably a good idea.“
She nodded and walked toward the window to give him a little privacy. A moment later she began speaking rapidly into the phone.
Not Korean. Not English either.
The language flowed quickly, full of sounds he couldn’t place.
Whoever answered sounded… panicked. Even without understanding the words, he could hear it. An older woman’s voice grew louder and louder through the speaker.
Y/N winced. „I know… I know…“
She listened for another few seconds before sighing deeply.
Then, perhaps without even thinking about it, she switched into Korean. „Mom, calm down.“
Mingi’s attention immediately shifted from the television.
„I know how this sounds. No, I’m not alone on the road anymore…No.“
She rubbed her forehead. „I’m at a hotel.“
Another loud response erupted from the phone. „Yes… with the man who stopped to help me.“
Mingi froze. Oh no.
He could practically hear her mother’s blood pressure rising through the speaker.
„No, Mom….I’m not sharing a bed with him…There are two beds.“
Another barrage followed.
Y/N looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole.
„I know he’s a stranger.“
„I didn’t have another option.“
„I wasn’t going to sleep in my car.“
She paused.
„…No, he hasn’t been weird.“
Another pause.
„…No.“
„…Mom.“
„…Mom.“
Y/N slowly turned toward Mingi with an expression that mixed embarrassment with apology.
„My mother…“ She covered the microphone with one hand. „…would like to speak with you.“
Mingi stared at her. „…Me?“
She gave him an awkward smile. „I’m so, so sorry.“
For the first time all evening, Mingi suddenly found the prospect of talking to an extremely worried mother far more intimidating than performing in front of fifty thousand people.
Mingi blinked at Y/N for a second before a small smile spread across his face.
„It’s okay,“ he said quietly.
„Really?“
He nodded. „My mom would’ve reacted the exact same way.“
Y/N let out a relieved sigh. „I am so sorry.“
Before he could answer, another loud voice echoed from the phone.
Even though he couldn’t understand the first sentence, he immediately guessed who was speaking.
Y/N’s mother sounded like she was only one step away from booking the next flight.
Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose.
„Mom…“
Another rapid sentence followed.
Y/N’s eyes widened.
„…You want what?“
She stared at the phone before slowly turning it toward herself.
„You want me to turn on the camera?“
The answer came immediately.
Y/N sighed dramatically.
„…She says she wants to see your face.“
Mingi gave a nervous laugh. „…That’s fair.“
Y/N wasn’t finished listening.
A second later she buried her face in one hand.
„Oh my god…“
„What?“
„She said she wants to know what you look like…“ Y/N paused, clearly trying not to laugh. „…so if you decide to murder me, she’ll know exactly who to hunt down.“
Mingi swallowed.
„…That’s…“ He rubbed the back of his neck. „…a very protective mother.“
„That’s one way to put it.“
He couldn’t even blame her.
If his own daughter had called from another country to say she was spending the night in a hotel after being rescued by a complete stranger, he probably would’ve reacted the same way.
Maybe worse.
He smiled reassuringly. „It’s okay.“
Y/N searched his face for another moment. „You don’t mind?“
„Not at all.“
She switched the camera on before handing him the phone.
„Good luck.“
He accepted it with both hands.
The screen immediately filled with the image of two people squeezed together in front of another phone.
A woman and a man. Both looked equally worried.
Y/N clearly resembled her mother.
Only now her mother’s smile was nowhere to be found.
Instead she stared intensely at Mingi through the camera.
He bowed his head politely. „Hello.“
For several seconds… Nothing happened.
Y/N’s mother simply stared.
Then her expression changed completely.
Her eyes widened.
She blinked.
Then she looked somewhere off-screen. „…Y/N.“
Mingi heard Y/N laugh behind him. „What?“
„You forgot to mention…“ Another pause. „…that the stranger is handsome.“
Y/N groaned so loudly Mingi almost laughed. „Mom!“
„What? It’s true!“
Mingi felt warmth creep into his cheeks.
„I…“ he started awkwardly. „Thank you?“
Y/N covered her face. „I am never living this down.“
Her father chuckled quietly somewhere beside her mother. „Your mother says whatever comes into her head.“
„I noticed.“
That finally broke the tension.
Even Y/N’s mother smiled.
The conversation slowly shifted.
Instead of suspicious questions, she started asking practical ones.
Where had they met?
How long had Y/N been stranded?
Was she eating enough?
Had she locked her car?
Mingi answered patiently. He explained how he’d found Y/N waiting beside the road, how she’d already been stranded for hours, and that she had been fully prepared to sleep in her car before he happened to drive by.
Her mother visibly softened. „You really helped her?“
„Of course. There wasn’t anyone else around.“
She nodded slowly. „I… appreciate that.“
He smiled. „I’m also planning to take her back first thing tomorrow. The tow truck or the mechanic should know more by then. If they can’t fix the car, we’ll figure something else out.“
Y/N’s father finally spoke. „Thank you.“
His voice was calm, but Mingi could hear the relief behind it.
„She’s very stubborn.“
„I am not,“ Y/N protested from somewhere behind him.
„You drove across Europe alone,“ her father replied. „You are.“
Mingi laughed.
„I’ve only known her a few hours…“ He glanced over his shoulder at Y/N. „…but I think you might be right.“
She gasped dramatically. „Wow. Unbelievable. My own rescue turns against me.“
Her parents laughed.
For the first time since answering the phone, Y/N’s mother looked genuinely relaxed.
„Please take care of each other.“
„We will,“ Mingi answered.
After another round of goodbyes, the call finally ended.
The room fell quiet.
Y/N stared at him for one long second.
Then they both burst into laughter. „I cannot believe she said that.“
Mingi handed her phone back. „I wasn’t expecting that either.“
„I was convinced she’d threaten you again.“
Y/N dropped onto the edge of the other bed, still laughing.
„I’m so embarrassed.“
„You don’t have to be.“
„I absolutely do. My mother basically flirted with the guy who rescued me.“
„I think she was just relieved.“
Y/N groaned into a pillow. „I’ll never hear the end of this.“
Mingi picked up the remote again.
„Well…“ He nodded toward the television. „At least we have Anya to distract us.“
Y/N looked at the screen. „Oh. I’ve heard of this.“
„You have?“
„I think so. I’ve never actually watched anime.“
Mingi slowly turned his head toward her. „…What?“
She blinked. „What?“
„You’ve…“ He sat up straighter. „…never watched anime?“
She shook her head. „Not really.“
He stared at her in exaggerated disbelief. „That’s tragic.“
She laughed. „Tragic?“
„You’ve been missing out for years.“
„I don’t know.“
„I’ve always been more of a book person.“
He pointed accusingly at the television.
„This is art.“
She folded her arms. „You’re taking this very personally.“
„I am.“
She smiled. „Fine. Convince me.“
That was all the invitation he needed.
For the next twenty minutes, Mingi found himself enthusiastically explaining every character.
„That’s Loid.“
„He pretends to be a psychiatrist.“
„But he’s actually a spy.“
„And that’s Yor.“
„She works at city hall.“
„But she’s secretly an assassin.“
Y/N raised an eyebrow. „Seems healthy.“
„It gets better.“
„And Anya?“
„She’s…“ He smiled despite himself. „…the best child ever written.“
By the end of the episode, Y/N had laughed far more than she’d expected.
„Okay,“ she admitted. „I get it.“
„I told you.“
„She’s adorable. I also want whatever confidence she has.“
Mingi grinned triumphantly. „See?“
„Anime.“ She rolled her eyes with a smile. „One point for you.“
The second episode had barely started when he noticed the room had gone quiet.
Much quieter than before.
He looked over.
Y/N was curled up beneath the hotel blanket, her head resting against the pillow.
Her breathing had slowed.
Somewhere between Anya’s latest adventure and one of his unnecessarily long explanations, she’d fallen asleep.
He smiled to himself.
She must have been exhausted. Between the long drive, the broken-down car and everything else that had happened today, he honestly wasn’t surprised.
Carefully, so quietly he barely made a sound, he stood up.
A folded blanket rested inside the wardrobe.
He shook it open and gently draped it over her shoulders.
She shifted slightly but didn’t wake.
Her phone still lay beside her with barely any battery left.
He unplugged the television remote charger and connected her phone instead.
The screen lit up. Three percent.
He placed it carefully on the bedside table within her reach.
For a second he simply looked at her sleeping peacefully.
This morning they hadn’t known each other existed.
Now she’d trusted him enough to accept his help.
It felt… strange. In a good way.
He quietly switched off the bedside lamp on her side of the room, leaving only the small reading light above the sofa.
Then he grabbed the spare pillow and blanket, stretched out on the sofa and looked up at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, they would hopefully get her car fixed.
Then, most likely, they’d go their separate ways.
At least…That was what he’d been telling himself ever since he’d stopped on that empty road.
Mingi had expected to wake up feeling awkward. Instead, it almost felt... normal.
He and Y/N had grabbed coffee from the hotel's breakfast room before sunrise, loaded her backpack back into his SUV and driven the twenty minutes to where her little car was still waiting faithfully at the side of the road.
The morning air was cool, the fields still covered by a thin layer of mist.
Y/N stood beside her car with a paper coffee cup in one hand, staring at it as if she could somehow convince it to start through sheer determination.
"It looks innocent," she muttered.
Mingi smiled. "It does."
"It's lying."
"It probably is."
She looked over at him. "If it starts now after all this drama, I'm selling it out of spite."
He laughed. "I don't think that's how spite works."
"It does today."
A few minutes later, a white van with the roadside assistance logo finally appeared around the bend.
Y/N folded her arms. "Only..." She looked at her watch. "...about sixteen hours late."
"Better late than never?"
She gave him a look. "I'm choosing to ignore that."
The mechanic, a man in his late fifties with gray hair peeking out from beneath his cap, greeted them with a cheerful smile.
"You must be the stranded tourist."
"That's me."
"And this the patient?"
He patted the hood of the little car affectionately.
Y/N nodded. "I was hoping you'd have better news today."
"We'll see."
He plugged a diagnostic device into the car before lifting the hood.
Unlike Mingi yesterday, this man actually looked like he knew what he was doing.
He frowned. Pressed a few buttons. Listened to the engine while attempting to start it. Walked around the car once.
Then sighed. It wasn't the kind of sigh anyone wanted to hear.
Y/N noticed it immediately. "...That's a bad sigh."
"It is." The mechanic closed the hood carefully. "I'm afraid your engine has suffered quite a bit."
"What does 'quite a bit' mean?"
"It means..." He searched for the gentlest wording. "...that repairing it would probably cost more than the car is worth."
Y/N stared at him. "I'm sorry?"
"It's an older vehicle."
"I know."
"And judging by the damage..." He scratched his chin. "If this were my car..."
He paused. "I'd let it retire."
Silence.
Mingi glanced toward Y/N.
She hadn't said anything. She was simply looking at her little white car.
The same car she'd talked about yesterday with so much affection.
The one that had taken her through university, first jobs and countless memories.
The mechanic spoke again. "I'm sorry."
"It happens."
"It just happened at unfortunate timing."
Y/N forced a tiny smile. "Yeah. You could say that."
The mechanic gave her a sympathetic nod before leaving them alone to think.
For several long moments neither of them spoke.
Birds chirped somewhere in the nearby trees.
Cars occasionally passed on the road.
Life continued exactly as before.
Only Y/N's plans had changed completely.
She reached into her pocket and slowly unlocked the driver's door.
Without a word she began taking things out.
Mingi quietly walked over.
"You don't have to carry everything."
"I know."
"Then let me help."
She nodded without looking at him.
Together they loaded the boxes and bags into the back of his SUV.
She was unusually quiet.
The jokes she'd made yesterday were gone.
Once the trunk was finally closed, she leaned against it and stared down at her phone.
"I'm going to try renting another car."
"Good idea."
She found a rental company nearby and put the call on speaker.
Mingi busied himself reorganizing the luggage, trying to give her as much privacy as possible.
"Good morning," the woman on the line greeted politely. "I was wondering if you have any rental cars available."
A pause.
Y/N's shoulders slowly sank.
"I don't care what size." Another pause. "Automatic, manual... honestly anything."
She closed her eyes. "I understand. Thank you anyway."
The call ended.
She stayed still for a few seconds before slipping her phone back into her pocket.
"They're fully booked."
Mingi frowned. "Nothing?"
"Not a single car."
She let out a quiet laugh. It wasn't a happy one.
"I think the universe is trying to tell me something."
"What?"
"I don't know." She looked out over the fields. "Maybe that adventures aren't for me."
He didn't answer immediately.
She continued before he had the chance.
"I'll probably have to go home."
She kicked a small stone across the gravel.
"I'll scrap the car. Cancel the rest of the trip. Spend the next weeks packing boxes instead."
A sad smile appeared on her face. "I really wanted this."
Mingi looked at her.
At the disappointment she was trying so hard to hide.
Yesterday she'd spoken with so much excitement about seeing tiny villages, hiking trails, coastlines and old castles before starting her first job.
Now...
It was disappearing right in front of her.
"It wasn't just a vacation," she said quietly.
"It was..." She searched for the right words. "My goodbye. To this part of my life."
She laughed softly.b"I know that sounds dramatic."
"It doesn't."
She looked at him. "I wanted one adventure before adulthood really started."
She shrugged. "Guess that dream lasted about a hundred kilometers."
Something tightened in Mingi's chest.
He understood that feeling better than she probably realized.
He looked toward his own SUV.
Then back at the road stretching into the distance.
Then at the folded map still lying on her passenger seat.
An idea slowly formed.
Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.
Yet somehow...It didn't seem impossible.
"You know..." Y/N looked at him. "I actually came here for something similar."
She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
"I've been traveling for almost a month."
"A month?"
He nodded. "I wanted silence. No schedules. No cameras. No people constantly expecting something from me."
He smiled to himself. "And I found it."
She waited.
"But..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "...it turns out life can become a little too quiet."
Y/N frowned slightly. "What are you saying?"
He took a slow breath.
The sentence sounded absurd before he'd even said it.
"So..." He laughed awkwardly. "...hear me out before you say no."
"I don't like where this is going."
"Yesterday you said your dream was driving across Europe."
"I did."
"And..." He pointed between the two of them. "...I'm already driving across Europe."
She blinked.
He continued before he lost his nerve.
"What if... We just..." He laughed again. "...did the road trip together?"
Y/N simply stared at him.
"I'm serious."
"I noticed."
"You already planned the route."
"I have a car."
"You wanted an adventure."
"I wanted one too." He shrugged. "And honestly..."
He smiled sheepishly. "...it's been nice having someone to talk to."
She looked almost completely speechless. "You're asking a complete stranger to spend the next..." She checked her notebook. "...ten days traveling with you?"
"I guess I am."
"That's insane."
"It is."
She laughed. "A little."
"Definitely."
She crossed her arms. "I could still be a serial killer."
"You've had plenty of opportunities."
"You could be one."
"I suppose."
Another silence settled between them.
Y/N looked down at her notebook.
Then at the endless road ahead.
Then at his SUV.
He didn't interrupt her thoughts.
If she said no, he'd understand.
Honestly... He expected her to.
She had every reason to.
Several minutes passed before she finally spoke.
"If we do this..."
He looked up immediately.
"...we split fuel."
"Deal."
"I pay for my own hotels."
"Deal."
"And..." She smiled for the first time that morning. "...if you start singing your own songs in the car, I'm making you walk."
Mingi laughed so loudly that even the mechanic glanced over from his van.
"I think I can live with those rules."
Y/N looked at the empty road stretching toward the horizon.
The disappointment she'd carried only minutes ago hadn't disappeared.
But something new had settled beside it.
Curiosity. Maybe even excitement.
She slowly held out her hand. "Road trip?"
Mingi looked at it for only a second before shaking it.
"Road trip."
Neither of them realized that the decision they had just made would become the story they would tell for the rest of their lives.
summary: texts with boyfriend ateez with reader who is chronically ill and disabled
warnings: mentions of various symptoms (dislocation, pain, brain fog, seizure, fainting, dystonia, tremors), mention of ableism in wooyoungs
authors notes: symptoms based off my own experiences! this is entirely self-indulgent bc i dont see enough chronic illness/disability representation around !!!
Days in the Lives of the Black Pirates - Family Dinner
Pairing: OT8 x Platonic! Reader
Summary: A team of scattered rebels meet up for a family dinner in this first chapter of the story of the Black Pirates
WC: 5.2K
AU: Days in the Lives of the Black Pirates
Genre: Slight angst, fluff, slight crack
Warning(s): Dystopian reality, anxiety, descriptions of members being in life-threatening situations, rebellion, food, sleeping in uncomfortable areas, injuries, mentions of illegal activities
Masterlist
Please let me know if I forgot something!
A/N: This is my first one-shot in my long-form series for ATEEZ, and I'm really excited to see what you think of this. I've got so much planned and I have no idea when it'll end, but I do know that it will be GLORIOUS. This first chapter is mainly world-building.
There was a tangible excitement that filled the air of the warehouse. Its two full-time occupants could feel it, and their own excitement filled their hearts until it bubbled over, continuing to flood the large building until it positively thrummed with happiness. It was felt with each flick of every light switch, every once dark room illuminated with a buzzing light. This much power was scarce to come by, so they took advantage of it rarely. But those times were looked forward to.
It was heard in the eager footfalls of the one who roamed the halls, entering various rooms and flicking on lights to greet their occupants. The man whose footsteps echoed around the empty warehouse was the leader of the group that lived in it, “Captain” Kim Hongjoong. He was consistently underestimated by the Strictland drones who challenged him because of his relatively small stature and gentle demeanor, but there was a fierceness in his eyes and a protectiveness inside him that curled his lips in an insane smile every time he was met with the government who aimed to wipe his group off the face of the Earth. His title wasn’t the “Pirate King” of the Black Pirates for no reason; He was to be respected and feared, for inside this man was a ferocious fighter and a strong leader. But that ferocity was nowhere to be found as the gentle form of the captain roamed the halls.
Hongjoong sighed as he flicked the light switch of the bedroom he was in, taking in the sight of the room. It was one of the more personal ones, bed messy and papers and personal items scattered around the room. He huffed out a small laugh at the mess. He knew Seonghwa, his fellow team member and “housemate”, enjoyed tidiness as a comfort, and it probably pained him to leave the room in its messy state. But this area was too personal to be trifled with, and Seonghwa respected the knowledge that the occupant wouldn’t take kindly to his meddling if he chose to go in to organize. Hongjoong looked forward to the scolding that Seonghwa would give Wooyoung when he came home, needing some entertainment to disrupt the repetitiveness of his daily life.
“One more room to go.” Hongjoong whispered to himself. He took one last look at the room and left it waiting for the occupant to return to it.
The last room on his checklist didn’t have much electricity running through it. It was the last one they fixed up for their last member who joined. He remembered Yunho grimacing apologetically as he explained he couldn’t rig the room with full ceiling lights, but the outlets provided plenty of room for lamps to be scavenged and placed. Knowing this, Hongjoong stepped inside, flicked his small flashlight around the dusty room, and walked carefully to the desk resting on the wall next to the bed. His hand grasped around for a bit before yanking the cord of the old lamp that took its home on the desk, flooding the room with light.
Hongjoong couldn’t deny the thrill of happiness that ran down his spine at this task being completed.
Despite seeing his members on separate occasions throughout the weeks, he missed having them all with him at once. Missed the chaos and laughter that came with having his whole team with him, filling the cold and dark warehouse with light and life. He always looked forward to these nights, these so-called “family dinners.” The nights where his team members all gathered under one roof to share meals and information, patch each other up and relish in their company. This was a hard and lonely life, and nights like these made it worth living.
It was like a holiday to him, and he eagerly ran through the large warehouse lighting up each and every bedroom in anticipation for his family to come home.
He left the room, footsteps quickening in anticipation as he made his way to the common area, where he and the team had fashioned a makeshift living room, dining room, and kitchen. The dining room was quite sparse, several plastic tables shoved together and whatever chairs they could find decorating it. Some had bent legs that wobbled with the shifting weight of the wiggling occupant, some were old barstools whose shine had been weathered away and the bars where feet would rest were broken. But each person had a chair and a place at the table.
The common area around the table and living room were decorated with old fairy lights with half the strings dark, old lamps, bean bag chairs with the stuffing falling out, old couches with the cushions burst. It was ratty and obviously scavenged from dumpsters… But when each ratty piece of furniture had an occupant or two, it was home. There had been many a night they had all slept in this room, pushing beanbags and couches and chairs together and curling up with each other under blankets.
Along the wall underneath the windows above ground was a makeshift kitchen. There were several old fridges that had been scavenged that lined the wall, but since the majority of the team had gone off for their own safety, only one was plugged in, holding enough foodstuffs for an army. Normally, it was just enough for up to four people, but Seonghwa and Hongjoong stocked up enough food for a small army in anticipation for the seven other members joining them tonight. There were two large cooking apparatuses, one with a functioning oven, the other with a working stove, that rested bunched somewhere in the middle, and makeshift counters and shelves lined the walls beside them. In this kitchen, he met Seonghwa, who was busily preparing the food.
Seongwha was a tall, lithe man, with long dark hair that could brush against his chin. He had tied it up in a small knot on the back of his head, freeing his sharp eyes as they flitted about the kitchen. His hands were busy, cutting vegetables and preparing meat.
“All the lights in the rooms are on.” Hongjoong informed him.
Seonghwa nodded and smiled. “Good. Can you help me grab some things?”
“Sure.”
While Seonghwa busied himself with preparing the food, Hongjoong brought out a selection of pots and pans and set about making sure they were clean and ready for food to be prepared in them.
As they worked side by side, a large clatter followed by a bang echoed through the warehouse. The two shared a look before Hongjoong abandoned his work, stalking forward like a panther. It always fascinated Seonghwa to see his leader immediately switch from a gentle man to a dangerous one. Before Hongjoong could go too far, though, a joyous voice rang through the warehouse with ease.
“GUUUYYYYYS? ANYBODY HERE?”
All the tenseness left Hongjoong’s body, and he shared an exasperated smile with Seonghwa.
“We’re over here, Wooyoung!” Hongjoong shouted back. Immediately his words were met with scrambling feet and the squabbles of two voices until the two newcomers popped up in Hongjoong’s field of vision.
Jung Wooyoung was a man of similar height to Hongjoong, with sharp, fox-like features. His long, dark hair was tied back in a style similar to Seonghwa, but suited him to his aesthetic. Baggy pants and a buttoned shirt with a floral pattern adorned his body, hiding clear strength. However, the way his arm curled around the large radio on his shoulder betrayed the strength the man held. He moved with a feline-like grace, a confident swagger swaying his hips and a smile curled his lips. There was no denying the mischief and love in his eyes.
Choi San was very visibly strong, unlike his partner in crime. The man was several inches taller and much bulkier, thick muscles wrapped around him. San held sharp cheekbones littered with bruises and catlike eyes, but his full smile betrayed the warm and kind heart inside him. He was dressed in a simple shirt and pants, knuckles wrapped up. When Hongjoong paid proper attention to him, he could see the faint pain in San’s gait and the small swell of San’s lip.
San, a fighter and Wooyoung, his best friend and “manager,” two of the younger members of the group.
Hongjoong greeted the two, allowing Wooyoung to place the radio to the side and wrap him in a tight hug, arms wrapping around him in a manner akin to an octopus. After a few seconds, San shooed him away so he could get his own share of Captain cuddles. San was decidedly gentler, and Hongjoong held him loosely, mindful of the injuries he seemed to be hiding. While Hongjoong fussed over San, Seonghwa shooed Wooyoung away from the food he was preparing before wrapping him in a tight hug.
“How have you guys been?” Seongwha fussed over them, glancing over them briefly. “San, are you hurt?”
San grimaced at being caught. “Yeah, but it’s fine. A guy threw a harder punch than I anticipated a few days ago, he almost cost me the match. We made enough from that fight that Woo’s been making me take it easy the past few days.”
“Make sure you rest and take care of yourself.” Hongjoong reminded him. “We need you healthy and alive.”
“Sure, Captain.” San nodded meekly. He left Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong, starting his hunt for something to dull the pain of his injury. Hongjoong turned back to Wooyoung flittering around Seonghwa as he worked, filling him in with fun stories of their adventures since the last time they had met up. Seonghwa listened patiently, smiling softly and soaking up the presence in his kitchen.
The chattering continued as another slam of the big door echoed, and two more members joined the noise.
“Hongjoong, look who I just found!”
The owner of the voice was a certain Jeong Yunho, who was arm in arm with his best friend, Song Mingi.
The two were the tallest members, lovingly nicknamed “the Twin Towers.” Yunho was tall and lithe, but more muscular than Seonghwa, with a kind face and soft eyes. He carried himself with a grace that told the onlooker that he knew how large he was and knew how to handle it. Unlike his best friend, Mingi, who often clambered clumsily around like a Great Dane thinking he was a lap dog.
Mingi had short cropped blonde hair and thick lips, a prominent Adam's Apple, and a boyish smile that crinkled his whole face in his joy. His deep voice rang out in laughter, playfully socking his best friend in the waist as the other’s large hands mussed playfully in Mingi’s hair. They had been inseparable since joining the group. Where one was, you could almost always find the other. In fact, it was these two that were almost always present in this warehouse, second only to Hongjoong and Seonghwa themselves. They traded off guard duty when they weren’t out in the city fighting for information. Their signature rifle was slung across Mingi’s back.
Mingi had been gone for a week gathering information about the Strictland government on the farther reaches of the city. He usually traveled by foot, which is why it took so long. Even if it had been a week, it was a week too long for this pair of best friends.
“Mingi, back alive I see.” Hongjoong grinned. “How was the outer city?”
“I’ll tell you about it later,” Mingi sighed out, exhausted from his endeavors. “What I need is some food.”
“You’re going to have to wait for the rest of the group.” Seonghwa broke in.
Mingi groaned, but he couldn’t disobey the eldest member, so he went off with Yunho to swap supplies and clean their joint preferred weapon.
Meanwhile, Wooyoung had busied himself with turning on the radio, getting it plugged in and tuned to play. It was a temperamental thing, a leftover from a bygone era, with its radio function completely busted. That wasn’t too much of a loss, there wasn’t much to listen to. Only a single news channel spewing propaganda about the “paradise” that was this place when they gave up their emotions and let the government make all the decisions for their well-being. It got depressing after a while to listen to the constant calls for their arrests and consequent deaths, so one day the radio antenna had mysteriously disappeared. None of them fessed up to the vandalism, but the cold, scared look in the eyes of their youngest told them everything they needed to know.
Instead, they used it for the CD function.
Since it was from a time before Strictland, before the Android guardians and Prestige Academy and emotion-suppressing chips, before art and music and anything that had made life worth living had been erased, it had the function to play music CD’s. Through scavenging, they found several old discs that could still be played, and it was one of those discs that Wooyoung loaded into the radio. A jaunty tune started playing out, and Hongjoong’s head nodded slightly to the beat, body itching to move with the music.
Before he could, a separate door opened and closed, and a solo pair of boots clanged against the floor.
“Started the party without me?”
Kang Yeosang stood in the doorway at the other end of the warehouse, leading to a garage of sorts. At least, that’s where they kept their tools and the tech they needed to complete their missions. They usually parked their vehicles in there when they needed repairs.
Yeosang was a smaller, more dainty man with an almost fairy-like, ethereal quality to him. He kinda looked too pretty to belong in this revolution, if it were not for the weapons strapped to his hips, the leather fingerless gloves and leather jacket adorning his body, and the biker’s helmet tucked under his arm. His features didn’t fool the group though, they knew he was much stronger than he let on. Many an arm wrestle match proved that as much, each time being taken aback by his defined biceps as he slammed their hands down on the tables and took a small, self-satisfied smirk at his victory.
“YEOSANGIE!!” Wooyoung screeched, barrelling toward his other best friend for a hug. Yeosang accepted the hug but dodged the accompanying kiss to his cheek, a happy glint in his eye and a wide smile betraying just how glad he was to see his friend.
“You saw me a few days ago.” Yeosang playfully reminded Wooyoung, to which the latter laughed aloud.
“Yeah, but we couldn’t really hang out then. You were just there for a few quick seconds.”
“True.”
Yeosang set his helmet to the side, shucking off his leather jacket and sighing at the coolness of the warehouse. The wind whipping against him from the speed of his bike didn’t quite stave off the warmth that his jacket trapped against his body.
“Yeosangie, how are the streets?” Hongjoong asked. “Was your cover compromised?”
Yeosang was their designated messenger and delivery boy, distributing messages, commands, information, and supplies through the group under the guise of a chicken-delivery business. Each of his members’ positions and roles lead to a certain amount of danger, but Yeosang’s was unique in that he was the most involved with the public. One slip of his helmet, one unsuspecting citizen loyal to the government spying upon his face or listening in to his conversations, and his entire cover was blown, and they would lose their supply of first aid and main means of communication with each other.
Thankfully, Yeosang shook his head. “I was careful. But there’s something we need to talk about.”
Hongjoong nodded, then shifted a subtle eye toward the reuniting group behind them. “Let’s talk about it later.”
“Yeah.” A smile lifted Yeosang’s lips once more. “Who are we waiting for?”
“Just Jongho and (Y/N).” Hongjoong stated. “Any word from them?”
“None lately, but I heard a while ago they were planning on infiltrating one of the more high-end casinos near the center sector, where some Strictland officials were said to spend their time. A week later, there was a theft of several thousands of dollars from that location, leading to a shootout. The culprits were never caught. I’d bet you anything that it was them.”
Hongjoong nodded. He had heard of that incident happening not too long ago. “We’ll keep an ear out. In the meantime, go see Seonghwa and the others, they’re dying to catch up.” Hongjoong told him. With a nod, Yeosang left to join the others, accepting a clap on the shoulder from San as he did so.
Hongjoong sighed. It was worrying that they hadn’t heard from the youngest member and his constant companion. It was good that no one was reported captured, but the silence unnerved him. He hoped they were okay as he turned to reunite the group.
With the extra pairs of hands, Seonghwa was able to get the food cooking and watched over. With the food handled, Seonghwa grabbed San and Wooyoung, forcing them to the makeshift medical area near the other end of the main room. There, they exchanged conversation away from listening ears. Wooyoung’s expression became serious and San lifted his shirt, revealing a mottled bruise on his abdomen. Hongjoong averted his eyes.
He hated the amount of danger his group was always in. Day in and day out, they were at risk of recognition, capture, and death. San and Wooyoung ran around in illegal fighting rings, so they were at least somewhat safe from being ratted out. But San constantly put his body on the line for these fights, suffering injuries in the ring, and Wooyoung would be left to defend himself if someone started a fight with him over a bet that was deemed “unfairly won”. Plus, they had to constantly move locations just to get some sleep when Strictland patrolled the streets. He was grateful to the infiltration skills Mingi possessed when he gave them the patrol schedules. These drones rarely ever deviated from their set patrol schedules, so it was a valuable piece of information to them.
Mingi and Yunho had one thing going after them: The government couldn’t pin them down. They both shared the name “DJANGO”, switching who played that role consistently and confusing the drones who sought after them. The anonymity that this presented gave them some security. If the government was getting suspicious of one of them being DJANGO, they’d switch places, and then again.
Jongho and (Y/N), their roles had them infiltrating and hustling card games for information and money. If they were caught, that’d be another source of money and information lost. They’d be captured and, if they were lucky, executed quickly. Hongjoong didn’t even want to think about what would happen if they were unlucky. The two were also consistently on the move, whatever money they earned in their games were spent on hotel rooms, moving every other night so as to not garner suspicion.
Hongjoong longed to be out there with them, fighting alongside them and protecting them. Him and Seonghwa were the ones they sought after the most, so for their own safety they kept holed up in Wonderland, running operations from the shadows. But it drove him mad going days, sometimes almost full weeks without hearing from his family, and him being stuck back at home base, twiddling his thumbs and waiting for news, a break, anything…
Seonghwa assured him that it was for the best, and the others can handle themselves. That doesn’t stop the worry.
That was why, when the doors opened and closed one final time, his knees almost buckled with relief.
In came Choi Jongho, the youngest of the group. He was dressed in his casual, undercover clothes, layered in sweaters and pants, black hair curtaining his face and wide eyes. It was a sheer disconnect from the suits and outfits he wears for undercover work, the difference between “Blackjack” and Jongho. He was another of the bulky members, clearly strong, but it wasn’t often he got to use it. He knew that his strength wouldn’t fail him if he had to, however. What was really his greatest strength was his dizzying intelligence and a sharp wit that leaves his older brothers rolling in laughter. His lips bore a wide smile as he rushed to see his brothers, eager to catch up on their endeavors.
And finally, the last member to arrive. Ironically, she was the last person to join the group. She had started out in a similar manner that the others had, a student at Prestige Academy, having her intellect honed razor sharp and her sense of self stripped away. Until she stumbled across a street dance one day and fell in love with the art. They rescued her as she was running from drones, and she had been with them ever since. Ever since her arrival, she had shown them exactly why Prestige had chosen her to be a part of their ranks, displaying an intelligence and resourcefulness that has helped them turn the tide of this revolution.
Hongjoong was glad to have her on the team, and for more reasons than just what she was capable of, how she helped them in the fight. She also just kept them together as a group.
When there are problems, she’s the one the guys go to for honest answers about what to do. She was the one to come up with the idea to split up when Strictland were getting too close to them, having been too close to capture a few too many times, and she was the first one to volunteer to stay with Jongho when he took the role that he did. She was a friend they could all count on, and in turn she learned to count on them. They grew together, and he was grateful for her.
When she reached him, Hongjoong opened his arms for a hug, which she returned.
“Taking care of each other?” He asked when they separated.
She smiled and nodded. “We got into a spot of trouble a few days back so we’ve been laying low. Sorry I haven’t been able to get a hold of you guys.”
“We’re just glad you’re okay.” Hongjoong assured her. “What was the haul?”
(Y/N) shrugged. “A few thousand and some information about one of the Prestige professors' hobbies. We might be able to use that.”
“Tell me later.” Hongjoong gestured to the group in the kitchen. “I think the food is almost ready. We’ll regroup after dinner.”
(Y/N) nodded and went to rejoin her family.
A mild cheer rose up from the group as she arrived at the kitchen. Mingi bowled over Yeosang to wrap his arms around her and lift her in the air, and her cackles lifted into the air with her. When her feet were set back on the ground, she was swept into a warm hug from San, which she melted into.
If she was the closest to anyone besides Jongho, it would be San. He was the one who rescued her when the Strictland drones caught her and brought her to the group. That day, the bond they formed solidified into a life-long friendship with him and the rest of the guys. When she wasn’t in a hotel room with Jongho, she was with Wooyoung and San in their van.
“Keep yourself alive, (Y/N)ie?” He asked.
“Always, Sannie.” She answered, peeling herself from his arms. “How’s van life with Wooyoung?”
“Ah, can’t complain.” he shrugged. “He’s turned into a nagging mother hen recently, though.”
“You got hit so hard, you bruised your ribs!” Wooyoung whispered as he butted in, latching onto (Y/N) for a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Big deal!”
“San,” (Y/N) groaned. “That is a big deal! You better not be fighting with it!”
San pouted at being ganged up on. “Woo’s been making me sit out the past few days. Hwa says I should be good to get back in the ring once the bruising clears up.”
“Do you think you can do that?” (Y/N)’s eyes flashed with concern. “Going more than a few days out of the ring… Can you guys handle that?”
“Don’t worry, honey.” Wooyoung assured her. “We can take care of ourselves, you don’t need to worry about us.”
She didn;t like that answer, but let it slide for now. “Just… If there's something I can do to help, let me know and I’ll do it. You know I will.”
“Don’t worry, we know.” San told her, giving her a soft smile. (Y/N) returned that smile, and the mood cleared when she spotted Seonghwa. A wicked smile curled her lips.
“Hey, Wooyoung, tell Seonghwa the mess you left your room in the last time we were here.”
Immediately, Hwa perked up at the mention of his name. At Woo’s scandalized gasp toward her and his guilty gaze when he met Seonghwa’s eyes, he knew he was in trouble.
Hongjoong, ever the shit-stirrer, grinned. “Yeah, I could barely walk inside the room to get your lights on. And were those snack wrappers I saw on your desk?”
Wooyoung was saved from Seonghwa’s wrath when Yunho spoke up just in time to announce that the food was ready. A final glare Wooyoung’s way promised a return to the conversation before the group crowded around the kitchen counters, surrounding the food like sharks. Wooyoung gave (Y/N) a joking frown, to which she responded by smiling “innocently,” and they followed the line to get food.
“YOUNGEST GOES FIRST.” San shouted over the din, which was met with a few groans, but they parted the waters to let Jongho through, who sauntered to the counter with a smirk.
Being the youngest has its privileges, which he indulged in whenever it suited him.
After he served himself, the rest of the boys and only girl formed a line to follow. Seonghwa had somehow brought up a feast with what they had, and their stomachs growled.
Once everyone had served themselves, they found their respective seats at the table. Seonghwa and Yunho settled on a couple of barstools that had been found, letting their legs stretch. Mingi himself was among the tallest, but moved around too much to rest comfortably on a barstool, so he settled in a tall, high backed metal chair he had found in a dumpster behind an old bar he’d raided. (Y/N) sat with them, enjoying the high energy conversation and tales of the city Mingi and Yunho brought.
Wooyoung clambered into a rather cushiony and fancy chair, if it weren’t for the split padding in the seat and backrest, and crossed his legs comfortably. Beside him sat Jongho, comfortable in a worn down wooden chair that let him swing his legs freely. He put forth a mature facade, the eldest of his siblings back in the city, but he truly was the youngest here.
On the other side, Hongjoong, San, and Yeosang sat side by side in dinner chairs that had been thrown out. They exchanged quiet conversation, soaking in each other's presence. They were a few of the more… one could say “shy” members. It took a while to warm up to someone new, and they enjoyed quiet times to themselves.
They all waited to eat until everyone had seated themselves. Once everyone was in a chair, their hands clapped in unison.
“Let’s eat!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
San flopped into his favorite bean bag chair next to one of the couches, groaning in satisfaction. It’d been a while since he’d eaten that good, and he looked forward to every family dinner for that reason. He was feeling light and happy from seeing his friends, and now drowsiness was starting to take over him. He rolled over and took a dusty pillow from the ground next to him and hugged it to his chest.
“So full…” He huffed.
“You said it.” Wooyoung grunted from the couch across from him.
The meal was merry and full of laughter. Seats were switched around as conversations abounded, each swapping tales of their adventures since they'd seen each other last. No one sat in the same place for long. Eventually, all the food had been eaten and conversation gave way to sleepiness. They each migrated to the mock living room, ready to collapse in their favorite resting places.
(Y/N) groaned as she slumped her way over to the beanbag that San was lying on, dropping to her knees and pulling the pillow in his arms aside, draping herself over him. Immediately, his arms wound around her and pulled her in for a cuddle, and she sighed contentedly.
“Tired?” San hummed.
“Mmhmm…” she murmured. “Been on the run since the bank heist. Not much time for sleep.”
“Rest now.” San said as he rubbed her arms comfortingly. “We've got you.”
Many more members made their way to the couches and beanbags. Jongho fell into a sitting position on the opposite end of Wooyoung's couch, who then promptly raised his feet and plopped them onto Jongho's lap. Jongho swatted them off at first, but relented when Wooyoung stubbornly planted his feet right back. He'd get his revenge in the morning by tickling his friend's feet until he squirmed away in wakefulness.
Mingi collapsed face first on a different couch, groaning into the pillow. Yunho settled down on the floor beside him, spreading out a beanbag as much as he could to use as a makeshift bed and pillow. Yeosang curled up into an old armchair to the side of the main pile, contentedly groaning.
Hongjoong joined shortly after, smiling warmly down at his sleepy family. Seonghwa finished cleaning up the kitchen and chuckled softly to himself at the sight. He knew that none of them would make it to their beds that night, so he left on the hunt for blankets and to turn off the members’ room lights. Might as well save some power.
Hongjoong himself plugged in the fairy lights and lamps, allowing them to softly glow over the group. (Y/N) was already knocked out and snoring in San's arms, and San was headed that way with slow, sleepy blinks not registering the world around him. Yeosang was snoring softly, curled into what looked like the single most uncomfortable position on the armchair, but he was just content right there. He'd have some back pain tomorrow, that's for sure.
When Seonghwa returned, they draped the blankets he had collected from their respective beds around each exhausted member.
“I’m gonna have words with Wooyoung tomorrow.” Seonghwa grumbled as he draped said member’s blanket on him.
Hongjoong’s smile turned to amusement, and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”
He took the blanket Seonghwa offered him and found a place with an unoccupied beanbag. He curled down onto it, covering himself. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but he’d slept in worse. Besides, his family was with him. All safe, all alive, and all sleeping or heading to sleep soundly around him. That knowledge alone brought him more peace and comfort than the most comfortable bed in the world.
Days in the Lives of the Black Pirates - In the Beginning, Part 2
Pairing: OT8 x Platonic! Reader, but no mention of the guys. Just reader today folks.
Summary: A restless teen risks danger to find what she was looking for.
WC: ~2.5K
AU: Days in the Lives of the Black Pirates
Genre: Mostly angst, with a few lighthearted bits
Masterlist
Warning(s): Dystopian society, reader is depressed but doesn't understand it, reader almost gives up on the journey, self-loathing, almost getting caught, anxiety, fear, getting threatened, a little bit of manhandling, mentions of death and kidnapping.
A/N: Guys..... I am SO SORRY it has taken this long. Life kept getting in the way of everything. At this point, 9 pages in on my document and I had no idea where to go from there, I just decided "screw it" so here you go.
Without further ado...
Her back rested hard against the concrete wall that separated her from the outside of the city, and her lungs heaved for air. She wasn’t used to the strain of walking for longer periods of time, always cooped up at a desk somewhere, and the effort was getting to her.
The night was getting darker the longer she stumbled around, and she cursed wearily.
“This isn’t working…” She muttered. “What… what am I doing wrong?”
The whole “wander-around-until-you-find-something” plan wasn’t helping her find anything more than dumpsters and close calls with the Guardians. Her horrible nights of sleep the past weeks weren't helping with her frustration and exhaustion. Tears pricked her eyes, and she slammed her fist into the ground beside her.
“Fuck!”
This was such a waste of time… what am I even looking for anyway? This was stupid, (Y/N), what were you thinking? Over and over again, the berating thoughts swirled in her mind as she sat against the wall behind her, the tears flowing freely. Hopelessness overwhelmed her, and she sobbed quietly.
All this effort to “find her missing piece” - what a joke. All she was at this moment was lost in the city and exhausted.
But as she was picking herself up, dusting off the seat of her pants and resigning herself to trudging home, her eyes caught something. Thinking it was just a trick of the light reflecting off her tears, she blinked rapidly, but the sight stayed: A crumpled piece of paper with ruined color sliding against the wall she was just resting on. She paused, leaning down to grab at it. It was fairly new, the color hadn’t faded yet. But it was crumpled and battered enough to show that it had been out for a little while, maybe a few days. Her shaking hands straightened it out, and she read it as best as she could in what little light she had.
“Fights… games… betting… shows?” She read aloud.
As she read the poster, her heart sang. Somehow, deep in her soul, she knew that this was exactly what she had been looking for.
The location on the map told of a location, a red dot circled at a small junction in some streets.
She stuffed the poster into her bag and took off running. The sudden burst of energy carried her, and as she ran through the night, the streets beside her became more faded, older, much more like that street alleyway where she had seen the man who looked like air and gravity bent to his will. Closer, and closer, she kept going and going until the warehouse on the poster loomed above her.
It was a large building that gave off the appearance of being abandoned, with parts of the roof caving in and its formerly pristine white paint stained gray and brown with age and weathering, peeling away to reveal the concrete below it. Despite the abandoned appearance of the building, the boarded up windows, the rolling front door with gleaming handles, and the faint shoe prints outside of the building told her otherwise. People still used it, though not for its original purpose.
Cautiously, she stepped forward. Her hand grasped the handles at the bottom of the sliding warehouse door, and she pulled with all of her might. The door slid up surprisingly easily, and it caught her so off guard that it almost slipped through her grasp. Thankfully, she regained her wits quick enough to regain control over the door. She slipped under the gap it created, lowering it softly to the floor once she was on the other side.
Her heart pounded, but she held her breath, ears straining to catch every possible sound that could have come after the noise she had made. After a few minutes passed and not a soul or machine passed by, she released the air in a long, quiet sigh. She was safe… as safe as she could be in an unknown place, led there only by a faded poster.
Now that the immediate danger had passed, (Y/N) took this time to look around.
It looked like the average warehouse: A large square concrete space with high walls and ceilings. There were metal shelves littered around the space, some abandoned, some with random boxes and tools scattered on them. Other than that, it looked like the place was cleared out ages ago. Cobwebs lingered in the corners of the shelving units, and she could see dust floating in the air through the little light that shone from the outside lights.
Strange…
Why would this warehouse be advertised as some place with loud, boisterous activities, like betting and fighting, if it was abandoned? Furthermore, regardless of its size, the building was too small and public to accommodate such a large amount of people and remain unnoticed. Surely, there was something she was missing. Maybe some sort of secret entrance?
Her mind raced as she dug around in her backpack, producing a thin flashlight. Clicking it, a beam of light illuminated a small circle on the floor, and she looked around as best as she could. She remembered seeing the building’s back end merging with the walls that surrounded the city. If there were some back entrance, it could be there, but it would be obvious. There were still cameras outside the walls, they were pointed out quite often in class. Hell, if you turned on the TV to the one channel they had, a constant stream of news and reminders of the rules, there was a segment every day where they would play the live footage of the world outside of the walls. She shivered, recalling the blank desert scenes and the scary looking woods out in the far distance. Maybe not on the back walls… but what about the floor?
Her eyes and flashlight darted around until they alighted on a large tarp scattered and crumpled on the floor. It was a large, blue…shiny? thing, scattered randomly across the floor, clumped together in some areas and smooth in others.
Something bothered her about it.
Why was it shiny?
It was so out of place in this dusty warehouse. The dust piled on top of everything, cobwebs fluttered in every corner, and the metal and concrete of the warehouse was old and grimy with age and neglect. But not this tarp. This tarp was clean, with its plasticky fibers gleaming in the light of her flashlight. Shiny meant new, shiny meant used. Which meant that this was hiding something.
She rushed over to the mess on the floor grabbing a corner of the tarp that was flat and started peeling it back slowly. A small sliver appeared on the floor, and she pulled the tarp fully back to reveal a square door set smoothly into the concrete, a silver ring gleaming in the light of the flashlight. She reached down and threaded her fingers through the ring, pulling the door carefully up to reveal a ladder descending into a small, dimly lit concrete tunnel. Faint sounds of music pulsed through it and her heart picked up a few beats.
This is it…!
She turned over and put her feet on the first rung, then reached over to grasp an edge of tarp to throw over the hole to the entrance. She slipped down the ladder quickly, watching the tarp flutter over the entrance and to the ground, concealing it from sight once more. A few more steps down, and the door closed above her. The final few steps brought her to the floor.
Her hands gripped the rungs of the ladder tightly for a few seconds before releasing, and she turned around.
The music she had heard was now a little louder as she stepped further down the dirty concrete tunnel. It was so unique, energetic, filling the space around her. As she peered down the long tunnel, she noted small lights illuminating the hallway every so often, never leaving any area unilluminated. It was too long to see the end of the tunnel, sending a small thrill down (Y/N)’s spine at the thought of the unknown in front of her. Nevertheless, she gripped the straps of her backpack and pressed forward.
With each step, each light passed, her heart picked up in tempo, as if responding to the music as it became louder and louder near her. Growing nearer, she could hear the faint sound of cheers and groans that broke through the blanket of music. Eventually she got close enough where she could feel the music through the walls, thrumming through her body by her feet on the floor and her fingers on the walls. A door appeared before her, growing larger with each step she took.
Before she knew it, the door had appeared just in front of her. A rectangle was cut into the door just about her eye level, but it was covered from the other side.
Hm…
She raised her hand hesitantly and knocked on the door. Instantly, the rectangle slotted open and music flooded through the tiny opening, louder than anything she'd ever heard. However, she was jarred from the realization when a fierce pair of eyes fixed on her.
“Who the hell are you?!” The voice behind the door boomed. “How did you find us?”
(Y/N) blinked rapidly.
“Oh-” she gasped. “I-I found a poster on the wall in Sector 6-”
“Show it to me.”
(Y/N) nodded, and with trembling fingers she hoisted the bag off her shoulder and opened it, retrieving the crumpled piece of paper. She smoothed it out, raising it so the person at the door could see the lettering.
There was an agonizingly long second where she wasn’t sure if they would have be;ieved her, but the person behind the door swore colorfully and pulled the door open. Before she could even react, a hand grabbed her wrist and dragged her behind the door, closing it roughly and slamming her into it.
“How the fuck do I know that you’re not one of them?”
The person behind the door turned out to be a woman, who’s voice carried easily over the music, though (Y/N) could hardly hear it through the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. She looked a bit older than (Y/N), with sharp, angry eyes that narrowed on (Y/N)’s face, moving rapidly as if she were memorizing each and every feature that made (Y/N) unique. The hands that gripped the collar of the frightened teenager, pressing her against the door were scarred and worn, with smudges of dirt below the fingernails. The woman was strong and fierce, and (Y/N) had no doubts that she could hold her own in a fight.
“I-I’m not! You can search me, I’ve got nothing!” )Y/N) babbled, more than a little intimidated as she reached up for the straps of her backpack. “I swear, I’m not!”
The woman’s eyes narrowed even further, and she let go of the collar, stepping back. “Empty out your backpack, your pockets, and your outer layer of clothes and step away. Keep your hands where I can see them at all times, or we’re going to have a problem.” She ordered.
(Y/N) nodded, hands shaking as she fumbled with the straps of her bag, tearing open the zippers and tipping it over. All of the contents of the bag spilled all over the floor, and the fierce woman clicked her tongue in annoyance of the mess. Once the bag was completely empty, (Y/N) dropped it to the side and wrestled her jacket off of her shoulders, dropping it beside the bag. She patted her pockets, but found that there was nothing in them, so she turned them inside out to show.
The woman watched the whole time, sharp eyes on every movement of her hands. Once the bag and pockets were empty, the woman reached over and plucked the bag from the ground, tearing through it viciously. Her hands checked every possible nook and cranny, even feeling the inside fabric for what (Y/N) could only assume were wiretaps or trackers. When it came up empty, she then moved to the jacket, repeating the same search, and then picked carefully through the items on the ground.
After each item was thoroughly inspected, the woman turned her gaze back to the teen, less fury and protectiveness in her eyes, replaced by wariness.
“You said you found this poster,” she lifted the paper. “In Sector 6?”
(Y/N) quickly nodded, and the woman clicked her tongue again. “I bet it was that damn Do-Yun, I told him to stop pulling shit like this.”
She sighed, pulling herself to her feet and inspected (Y/N) with a scrutinizing look.
“What’s your story?”
(Y/N) blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Well, I hardly believe that pure curiosity led you to find a random poster and follow it.” The woman scoffed. “You had to have some reason to come here. Now spill it.”
(Y/N) swallowed, her eyes darting around as she tried to think of what to say.
Should she just say it really was pure curiosity? It technically wouldn’t be a lie… but it wouldn’t be the whole truth. And something told (Y/N) that the woman standing before her was more perceptive than she looked. She could probably sniff out lies and omissions like a bloodhound. And (Y/N) didn’t know what the woman would do to her if she was found to be lying. At best, she would kick her out and threaten her to never speak of the place she’d found. At worst, she could disappear forever and would never be found.
“I-I’ve… It’s hard to describe.” She forced out. “I saw someone, he was moving in a way I’ve never seen before. Something inside me changed, but I can’t understand what… I just needed to find that again. I haven’t slept since I saw him.”
The woman’s eyes softened.
“What happened to him?” She asked, her rough voice gentler.
(Y/N) took a breath.
“He was captured by the Guardians. I don’t think he’s…” she trailed off, words caught in the back of her throat.
In a surprising move, the woman moved forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, looking her deep in the eyes.
“He isn’t.” She said, and the confirmation of the man’s death caused her to swallow back tears. “I knew that man. We told him it was a dangerous idea, but he insisted. I guess now I understand why he was so adamant about dancing that day.”
That word…
“Dancing?” (Y/N) asked. “Is that what he was doing?”
The woman nodded. “Yeah. That’s what it’s called, dancing. He was one of the only people who knew how.”
“Is there… more? Here?” (Y/N) asked hesitantly.
The softness lessened in the woman’s eyes, and she leaned back. After a thoughtful pause, her mouth opened.
“Do you want to see for yourself?”
There was no beat, no hesitation. (Y/N) barely waited for the sentence to end when she responded with a rushed and breathless “Yes. Please.”
The woman nodded. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Uhm… It’s (Y/N).”
“Okay, (Y/N).” The woman extended her hand, calloused palm shining in the lights flickering around them. “I’m Kim Ha-Yoon. Welcome to The Underground.”
Days in the Lives of the Black Pirates - In the Beginning, Part 1
Pairing: OT8 x Platonic! Reader, but no mention of the guys. Just reader today folks.
Summary: We learn where the reader started before she joined the group, and what steps she took to find her way to them.
WC: ~2.8K
AU: Days in the Lives of the Black Pirates
Genre: Mostly angst, with a few lighthearted bits
Warning(s): Dystopian society, reader is depressed but doesn't understand it, nightmares, peril, life-threatening situations, anxiety, reader feels lost and doesn't understand why, Android Guardians almost catch her, mentions of food, a student environment, tests and stuff like that.
Here's part one of the very beginning of the reader's time with the gang. Lots of world-building, establishing where the reader came from. I originally wanted to post this much later on, but the brainrot didn't leave me alone and I haven't been able to write much lately, so I figured I might as well just post it.
Masterlist
If I missed anything, please let me know!
She dreamt of a blue bird.
A beautiful bird with feathers the color of the brightest hues of the ocean. Long, elegant wings tucked into its body, with long and graceful tail feathers. The beautiful bird was kept in an iron cage on a pedestal in the middle of a dark room, cold metal bars glinting in the harsh light that shone down upon it. It was the only thing that was illuminated, the rest of the room shrouded in darkness. The blue bird hung its head mournfully, and her heart ached for this beautiful, mysterious creature.
The bird met her eyes and cooed out a low note, pitiful and sad. Her hand reached out, trying to grasp the bars and set this bird free, but as usual, before her fingertips could touch the bars-
And she woke up.
Her eyes opened to her bright white room, a perfect contrast to the dark one in her dreams.
As wakefulness rose in her, she groaned, turning away from the morning light as it shone on her face. Just a few more minutes…
That prayer wasn’t granted as a shrill alarm sounded through the air. A louder groan left her lips as she blindly turned back over to slap at the alarm clock on her desk, silencing the damn object. Her morning was peaceful once more, and she sat up with a heavy huff.
Just another day. She thought as she made breakfast. It was silent in the kitchen of her small apartment, gifted to her by the higher ups at her school. It was a small, simple home. Just a rectangular space with a bathroom, kitchen, small sitting area, and a bedroom. She shared laundry services with the other older students in a laundromat somewhere on the bottom floors. This student had only been moved in for about a year, but it still didn’t feel quite like home. With the off-white walls and gray or black dishware, cookware, with the monochrome sheets and blankets and towels, colors she had always known… something was missing. She never knew what it was, but there was always an ache that suggested she was longing for something she never knew. There wasn’t any time to dwell on it, however, because one quick look at the black-and-white clock on her wall told her she needed to get a move on before she was late.
The white door locked behind her, and she was off.
The walk to school was a blur of white doors, gray and black streets and hardly a soul around. The monotonous drone of her footsteps on the ground, carrying her on the path that she had trekked for years, almost lulled her to sleep walking. She didn't even bother to raise her head from her feet, staring as she was taken one step, two, three forward and again and again until she reached her destination. Idly, the girl wondered if she could attempt the route with her eyes closed. With enough time and practice, maybe she could even do it while she was asleep.
Wouldn't that be something?
It was a thought she quickly shook from her head as the gates to her school appeared before her.
Prestige Academy. It was the main star of the city, with towers higher than even the government buildings. With spotlights and sleek walls, there was no doubt the message it was trying to put out: you wish that you were one of us.
And she was one of them.
Every child is tested at a young age for the level of intelligence they’d present later on in life. Apparently she had scored well, because once the government knew of this, she was immediately put on the list to be one of the students at Prestige. As soon as she was of age to go to school, she was whisked away to the Academy, along with a whole generation of highly intelligent children. She hadn’t even seen her real family ever since, Prestige Academy having been her home her entire life. She was never given any pictures of them, and as the years passed, she would slowly start to forget their faces. As she grew up, she would live with the other students until puberty, where she was given her own, separate dorm. As she reached adulthood, she was then moved to her own apartment, which she was told would remain her home until she started her own family or she graduated, so she better get comfortable.
This school was rigorous and difficult. Every day, the limits of your intelligence would be pushed and tested and then pushed further. Rigorous testing, evaluations, and adjustments filled her life as a student. Ask any other student, and they’d tell you they were happy with their life. Why wouldn’t they be? They’re worry-free, fed, clothed and housed. What was so bad about their life?
What was so bad about her life…?
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Her footsteps echoed through the streets as she wandered mindlessly. School had ended for the day, the students dismissed to go home or wherever. Normally she went home right after class, wanting to get started on her studying and homework as soon as possible. But today, she didn’t.
She didn’t know why. All she knew was that she just… didn’t want to go home. Her body wouldn’t let her. She wandered aimlessly, looking for something, but not knowing what it was.
And as she wandered, her eyes remained glued to her feet, only lifting when her shoulder bumped into a wandering bystander, knocking her off balance. She whirled up, meeting the eyes of the stranger and apologizing. They just scoffed and moved forward, and (Y/N) got a good look at her surroundings.
She was in an area she’d never actually been before. It was close to where she was familiar, with the streets still being made of the same black and white cobbles and the buildings still created like the ones in the sector she grew up in. But there was something extra she found, something she had never really seen before. She just… couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but looking around at the small carts selling necessities she had only ever seen in stores, with more people in the streets at once than she had ever seen in her entire life, wandering around, she could feel it.
Her feet continued to move, now with more purpose, an excitement welling up in her that she hadn’t felt in quite some time. Her wide eyes darted everywhere, taking it all in. It was such a small change, but after ages of the exact same surroundings and people every single day, it was everything.
It was a small market, from what she could tell. Little carts and tents lined the area, selling vegetables and baby clothes and honey and so many other things. The vegetables were very fresh, carrots still sporting some stains from the dirt they were pulled from, tomatoes and apples flecked with bruises, corn still sporting small hairs from having just been stripped from their husks. The clothes they sold were hand-me-downs, old school uniforms and other clothing articles that she had never seen before. Blankets and small jewelry and trinkets, customers haggling for lower prices, it was all things she had seen before. But they were in pristine shops and stores, clean and organized. Not something like this.
And somehow… She preferred this one.
And as she continued to wander, allowing her curiosity to fill her soul and guide her footsteps, she came across something truly unique.
A crowd had gathered in an alleyway, hooting and hollering at something they watched, jostling each other and pressing tighter together, all clamoring to see. Her curiosity was piqued, and she wandered over to the crowd, wanting to know just what they were seeing.
In the center of the crowd rested an almost perfect circle of space, and in that perfect circle was a man.
He was lithe and strong, moving about with a delicacy and grace she had never seen before. His weathered skin and silver-flecked hair showed proof of his age, but he moved smoothly and fluidly, as if he were still a young man. Perhaps, in his soul, he still was. As soon as she saw him, she was entranced, captivated by his movements. It was unlike anything she had ever seen, his body moving and twisting and twirling, following a pull that no one else could see, or hear. It was like he was possessed by the motions his own body was creating, and each flourish of his arms and sweep of his legs elicited gasps from the crowd of onlookers. As she watched, he picked up speed and energy, and she could see sweat dripping along his face, from his chin and down onto the street below his feet, but he didn’t stop. He kept going, becoming quicker and almost lighter and more intense, until it all exploded in a shining display of strength as he leapt into the air.
It seemed as if he were weightless, leaping into the air like gravity no longer applied to him, his legs curled, arms thrown wide in exaltation. She swore that in the light, she could see wings fluttering behind him.
It was pure and it was beautiful and it was unlike anything she had ever seen and filled her chest with something she had never felt before. Her heart stuttered as she watched, purely and utterly entranced by the display in front of her, and suddenly wished to join him. To see what he saw and experience how it felt to fly, to move with such grace, feel what drew him to move in such a way. She wanted to reach out and touch him, as if that would transfer that raw beauty that was his entire being into her.
For a moment, there was nothing else in this world but the man who moved as if he were weightless, and her, entranced by his beauty.
And in a blink, that moment was shattered when a net of silvery threads wrapped around the man, and all of a sudden, the world rushed around her.
The netted body hit the ground harshly, the grace broken along with the crowd. The onlookers panicked, immediately swirling around each other and pushing to flee. In the panic, air filled (Y/N)’s lungs, and her eyes darted around. They locked onto a dark figure in the background, and her heart stopped.
The Android Guardians…!
Everyone knew them. Anyone who had dared to defy the laws set in place were taken by the Android Guardians. They would be made an example of, and the Guardians often patrolled the streets maintaining that order.
She had only seen them in action once, dragging a screaming and struggling woman behind them until they disappeared from sight. She was never seen again.
Panic took over, and she turned on her heel and ran. Her eyes flitted wildly around, darting here and there until they zeroed in on an abandoned cloth-selling cart, shutters drawn and cloths thrown about. She dove under the cart, hoping that the scurrying of the panicked crowds hid her from the Guardian’s sight, and covered herself with scraps of abandoned cloth. Her eyes squeezed themselves shut and her hands cupped around her ears, blocking out everything around her. As the roar of the panicked crowd raged around her, she remained stock-still underneath the cart, barely even daring to breathe for fear of getting caught.
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Her hands pried themselves from her ears after what felt like an age. It was eerily silent, the street once filled with life and sound now abandoned and dead. She slowly uncovered herself and crawled out from under the cart, eyes darting for any signs of movement that could signify danger. The street was as abandoned as it sounded, the only signs of life having ever been there was the abandoned street carts and mess thrown about from the panic. Her heart picked up again, overwhelmed with the urge to run, to flee, to hide. She needed to get back home. Maybe if she did, she’d fall asleep in her bed and wake up and it had all been a dream. It had to all be a dream. It simply... Had to.
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Life went on as normal for her after that. She still woke up at the same time every morning, made herself breakfast, went to school. The same routine she’d had for years.
Except it couldn’t be farther from normal. Nothing was ever the same after that day. There was something about that day that nagged her as she continued to go through her life, the daily motions. As she went about her day to day life, she was suddenly hyper-aware of everything around her. She sought out things that resembled the motions of that man, things that felt similar to how that crowded street felt, anything to replicate anything she had felt on that day.
It nagged her as she sat in her classes, hung over her like a cloud as the school days continued. It was all she could think about, consuming her entire being, calling out to her to go, to seek it out again, to find more of that motion.
What the hell was she supposed to do?
That, among many other questions, consumed her every waking moment. She couldn’t sleep, the thoughts swirling in her head making it almost impossible to settle her brain down to even think.
The logical part of her was terrified. That was too close a call with the Android Guardians, and she didn’t want to risk it again. She was a good student, living life in the fast lane, being taken care of. She didn’t have to work to eat, she didn’t have to do much of anything except study. What was so wrong with this life that she sought more?!
Because she did. The inner part of her, the one she tried to keep quiet, the one she repressed and hid and ignored until it was awakened that very moment with the man who moved with such grace, that part of her sought more. There was always that little part of her that pleaded with her to listen, saying that something wasn’t quite right. Something… was missing. And as much as she tried to ignore it, push it down, that part of her knew that it had found that missing piece that day in the little market.
Was she supposed to just go back to her old life, knowing that she had found the one thing that she didn’t even know she was missing? Was that one missing piece worth the risk of giving up her entire life and livelihood? She was living well, fed, clothed, housed. Was that missing piece worth losing… everything? What even was that missing piece in the first place? Hours and days of pondering that question, and the answer never came to her. If there was no definable answer to that question, what exactly was she missing in the first place? Besides, how was she supposed to even go find it? When she stumbled across that marketplace, she wasn’t even intentionally looking for something, she had just stumbled across it accidentally-
And that clicked for her. She sat up in her bed, blanket tumbling from her form as her spine straightened in realization. There was the answer to one of her questions.
Her heart pounded, chest heaving in quick breaths. When she found it… she wasn’t even looking for it. She was just following her feet, wandering aimlessly, following something she didn't even know what it was. The missing piece just came to her, or rather, she unconsciously came to it. So… if she were to try and find it again, all she would have to do is just go out and wander. If she “tried,” put forth effort into looking, then she would surely never find it.
Without thinking or hesitation, her feet landed on the floor and carried her to her backpack. The insides were dumped out onto her bed, instead replaced with whatever she could find: a waterproof jacket, her wallet, keys, mini umbrella, anything she might need for being outside.
Her senses returned to her as she slung the bag over her shoulder, hand gripping the doorknob to her front door.
Am I really doing this?
Is this really happening?
What if I get caught?
If I do this, there’s no going back. Everything will be different.
