#mingi angst

[atinymusings]

Mmmmmm secret child trope but with… ?

SECRET CHILD

Yungi x FMC

Chan x FMC

Voting ended onApr 20

[defwoodz]

Purple Haze

mingi x gn! reader / genre: angst, romance. wc: 419 / warnings: smoking, alcohol mentions, so much longing, r: 18+

another one for the tipsy drabbles! i just love my emo loverboy so so much! thank you to @sanjoongie for showing me this and mingi for being so cool and beautiful at Paris this past week

Mingi takes his pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket. 

He lit one and drew a long, slow drag, letting the smoke do its thing. He'd been lectured a thousand times about it, but he likes it. It makes him loosen up. It also keeps the nightmares away. He tries not to make a habit of it.

Leaning against the balcony rail he takes another long drag, allowing the smoke to go through his lungs and he swiftly makes it come back, blowing it quietly back into the air.

The sky has deepened into a deep purple, and the cold outside feels sharper. He stretches and leans back. 

Mingi starts to drift away, and he thinks of you. 

You had a way of filling a room without even trying. Just by thinking of your smile it makes Mingi´s chest ache. He replayed something you’d said the other day, a small smile crept at the corner of his lips. He finds himself smiling freely, taking another drag, resting the tip of his tongue against his front teeth before letting the smoke out again.

He admits you are such a contrast to him; he is gloomy and quiet, only letting himself be comfortable to a very few, you among them. He´s just good at keeping things that might hurt him away. 

Enjoying the cold air he closes his eyes and pictures your lips. Their shape, their softness. He wonders how it would feel to have them crushing against his own. 

Then he pictures your hands. Around his shoulders, his waist. Anywhere you would like to grab onto as he takes control. 

As he calls you mine.

Mingi doesn’t move, the cold pricks against his bare arms and it makes him shiver. The haze from his smoke around envelops him. 

“Smoking alone again?”

He looked down to see you on the sidewalk, He turns and sees you mimicking taking a drag out. A playful smirk broke through his reserve as he leaned his weight against the balcony’s cold steel rail. 

“I was thinking of you, just now.” 

You smile teasingly, signaling for him to let you in. 

He smirks, smoke in between his lips as he walks to his door.

Moments later you are standing against his door frame, you show off the twelve pack of his favorite beer as an offering. Mingi feels your arm brush against his skin as you get in his apartment.

Your perfume mixed up with the lingering smoke felt like home, making him realize how deep his love has gotten. 

@mingsolo please do not repost/translate to other sites.

[norixseaweed]

Through The Storm: Chapter 6

Title: Through the Storm Chapter 6 Rating: Mature (Some adult themes) Contains: Slow burn, PTSD, Trauma, Underaged drinking/smoking, some violence Characters: Mingi, Fem OC, Jongho, Yunho AU: Aged up Military!Mingi, Aged up Professor!Yunho, Aged down Teen!Jongho Masterlist | Ao3 | AFF | Wattpad Previous Chapter - Next Chapter Synopsis: Areum is a college student trying to keep her life together. Between school, her part-time job, and taking care of her younger brother, every day feels like a blur. She doesn’t have much time to think about herself or the things she’s been through. She just keeps moving forward. Then she meets Mingi, someone who somehow makes everything feel a little lighter. He’s easy to talk to, easy to be around, and before she realizes it, he starts becoming an important part of her days. Through him, Areum starts to find a bit of peace in the chaos, learning that maybe it’s okay to lean on someone else once in a while. But as she begins to rebuild her sense of peace, she soon realizes that some truths can’t stay buried forever and that her parents’ deaths might not be as simple as they seemed.

Sitting at his desk with his mind elsewhere, Jongho stared down at the business card in front of him. The sound of chalk scraping against the board echoed through the classroom as the teacher spoke, but he barely heard a word.

The day before, while waiting for his next class to start, some of the students around him had started talking about a military recruitment fair being set up in the middle of the courtyard. It wasn’t anything big, just a few tables where soldiers would talk about the military and the benefits of joining.

When lunch came around, he decided to head over to one of the tables and take a look. He didn’t say anything, just observed quietly.

“Here, take this.”

Jongho looked up to see a soldier holding out a folder toward him. The man introduced himself along with the one standing beside him. The shorter, broad-shouldered one was Choi San, and the taller one was Song Mingi.

Jongho stared at the two, not in the mood for conversation. Mingi and San exchanged a look before chuckling. Mingi glanced down at his name tag and raised a brow. The name sounded familiar.

“Choi Jongho? That sounds oddly familiar. I’ve heard your name somewhere,” he hummed.

Jongho rolled his eyes.

Mingi then remembered how he knew the name, expression softening once he had realized. He was Areum's younger brother who seemed to be the cause of her stress.

“Well, Jongho, if you have any questions, feel free to come to us. You can also contact me here.” He slipped a business card with his information into the folder and handed it over.

“What’s the point?” 

The two once again exchanged looks, caught off guard that he finally had something to say. 

“Well,” San started, “there are a lot of benefits. Your tuition is covered, there’s healthcare, housing… you get a pension.”

“Okay…” Jongho wasn’t impressed. Mingi noticed the look on his face. Areum had mentioned that Jongho had been a bit of a troublemaker lately, like he used to be when he was younger. She also mentioned he could be stubborn and hard to get through, and he was proving her right.

“It also helps you build balance in your life, gives you discipline and structure,” Mingi added, though he could tell none of it was sticking. So he shifted tactics.

“Want to know why I joined?” he asked. “I was a shitty kid in high school. I drank, smoked, and fooled around…I lost myself and thought I had nothing going for me. But when I joined the military, I got better. I had a goal. I graduated college, I’ve got my own place, my own car… I have a life that I made for myself now. I don't know where I'd be if I hadn't joined.”

This seemed to have piqued his interest a bit, with the way his eyes changed, but he didn’t say anything. Mingi and San watched as Jongho stuffed the folder in his bag and turned to leave. 

And now here he was, staring at the business card sitting on his desk. He was going back and forth between wanting to text Mingi or to just forget about it. Was he ready to move forward in his life? Did he want to take this route? And the real question…was he ready to change? Or had he grown too comfortable with where he is now?  

The bell rang, bringing his attention back to reality. With a sigh, he stuffs the card in his pocket and leaves the classroom to get some fresh air. When he steps out to the courtyard he finds Yeosang already making his way to his side. The two walked side by side towards the school vendor, buying themselves some sweet bread and drinks. 

“Something going through your mind?” Yeosang broke the silence between them, taking a bite out of his bread. Jongho hadn’t opened his yet. “Kind of, but it’s not really important.” Yeosang nods, taking another bite as they continue to walk. 

Up ahead they see a group of students hanging out by a pillar, laughing and fooling around. Jongho spots a familiar face in the group, making his chest tighten. He tries to ignore that feeling, and tries to avoid this person, but it was hard. He’s known him, Jun, since they were in primary school together, spent every day together. They were inseparable. 

But when Jongho fell into depression after his parents passed away, he shut everyone out, ignoring all their attempts to reach him. One by one, his friends drifted away, tired of knocking on a door he refused to open.

He did regret it, he realized too late that he had lost his friends and didn’t try to reach out to them. He didn’t think he deserved to get a second chance with them. They deserved a better friend, someone who wasn’t as selfish as he was. 

Jun, especially, had never forgiven him. Bitterness had settled in his eyes, and he never missed a chance to make that clear. 

“So you’re joining the military now, huh?” Jun called out.

Jongho ignored him.

“With how useless and pathetic you’ve become, it fits you. No one else would take you anyway.”

Jun and his friends burst out laughing. Yeosang glanced at Jongho to gauge his reaction, but Jongho’s face remained calm and unreadable. He didn’t stop walking.

The insults didn’t affect him anymore. They were old and predictable. In the beginning, it hurt that his best friend would talk to him like that, but now it just left a bitter taste in his mouth. He never expected Jun to hold on to his anger for this long or to stoop so low. 

But there was one thing that could still set him off.  

“Maybe while you’re off at boot camp, I can finally get a chance to fuck that sister of yours.”

There it was.

Jongho froze. His fists clenched tight around the sweet bread in his hand. Heat crawled up his neck as the world blurred at the edges, turning red. Slowly, he turned, his eyes narrowing, shooting daggers straight at Jun.

“What. The. Fuck did you just say?” His voice was low and venomous.

Yeosang’s eyes widened, he had never seen him this angry before. “Jongho…”

Jun smirked, licking his lips. “What? You think I can’t pull her just because she’s older?”

Jongho surged forward, dropping whatever was in his hands, pushing past Jun’s friends until he was face-to-face with him. He grabbed Jun’s collar, his own face flushed with rage he could barely contain.

“Unless you want to eat shit, don’t ever fucking talk about her again.”

Jun’s grin only widened. 

“Oh, trust me Jongho, I can make her mine easily. My cousin told me all about how easy she was, how easily she spread those legs wide op–” 

Thump.

Jongho’s fist connected hard with Jun’s jaw, his head snapping to the side. The sound cut through the courtyard, and suddenly everyone went silent.

Before Jun could react, Jongho’s knuckles crashed into his face again. And again. Jun tried to push him away, scrambling to get out of his grip, but Jongho shoved him hard, sending him crashing to the ground. 

He was on him in seconds. Straddling his torso, he threw punch after punch, no thought, no hesitation, just raw, unfiltered rage. Jun raised his arms to shield himself, but Jongho didn’t stop. His fists shifted from Jun’s face to his ribs, each hit heavier than the last.

“Say what you want about me—” he growled between punches.

“But if you ever fucking talk about her again—” another blow landed.

“I will fucking kill you!”

Before he could land another hit, a pair of arms hooked under his armpits and over his shoulders, yanking him backward. Jongho struggled, managing to land one last sharp kick to Jun’s side before he was fully pulled off.

“Hey! Chill the fuck out!”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Jongho sat slouched in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. Across from him, Jun held an ice pack to his swollen face. Mr. Lee, the principal, was giving a lecture on violence, but neither of the boys was really listening.

Beside Jongho sat the man who had pulled him off Jun, Sergeant Choi San.

San leaned in slightly and lowered his voice. “So what happened? Why’d you go crazy on the kid?”

Jongho turned his head toward him and muttered, “Tried to call my sister a whore.”

San nodded slowly. “Okay, valid reason. I probably would’ve reacted the same way… but you did take it a little too far.”

Jongho exhaled and gave a small nod. He was stubborn, but he wasn’t the type to deny it when he knew he was in the wrong.

Just then, the door opened and a man and a woman walked in. Mr. Lee immediately greeted them and led them toward the two boys. San stood up and bowed respectfully as Mr. Lee introduced him as the man who stopped the fight.

Jongho immediately sank lower in his chair, lowering his head in shame. He didn’t want to look at them. Jun’s parents had always treated him like their own when they were younger, and after what he had just done, he was sure they were disappointed.

“Jongho, are you going to apologize to him?” Mr. Lee asked, his tone firm.

With a sigh, Jongho lifted his gaze toward Jun.

“I’ll admit, I took it too far,” he said plainly, “but I’m not going to apologize for what I did because I don’t regret it.”

“Jongho!” Mr. Lee exclaimed, clearly offended by his bluntness. Jun rolled his eyes beside him.

“What? It’s the truth,” Jongho continued. “Why should I apologize? If he really wants me to, then maybe he should tell everyone here exactly what he said. I’m sure his parents would love to hear it.”

Jun’s eyes widened. He immediately looked away.

His parents turned to him, their expressions sharp with anticipation.

“Well?” his mother pressed.

“I didn’t say anything. He’s just making things up,” Jun mumbled.

Jongho straightened in his seat, a brow arched.

“Oh? You don’t want to? I can do it for you if you’d like.”

Jun shot him a glare that clearly said don’t you dare. Jongho ignored it.

“He told me how he wants to fuck my sister. He called her ‘easy’ and said she ‘easily opens her legs.’” Jongho finally turned his gaze to Jun’s parents. His voice was steady, eyes sharp. “So no, I won’t apologize. And if I ever hear him talk about her like that again, I'll do it again."

“Jun!” his mother snapped, glaring at him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have Jongho expelled—” Mr. Lee started.

“No, there’s no need. He’s a good kid, really. We’ve known him since he was young. He’s just going through a tough time,” Jun’s father cut in gently.

Mr. Lee nodded reluctantly. “But we may still have to suspend him.”

Jun’s mother stepped toward Jongho, crouching down in front of him. Her hand reached up to gently caress his cheek.

“I really hope you two can make up soon,” she said softly.

Jongho averted his gaze, his fists tightening in his lap.

“Even if you don’t,” she continued, “you can always come to us if you need anything, Jongho. I mean it.”

Her voice was soft, and her words, though simple, had stirred his emotions. For a moment, she almost sounded and looked just like his own mom. The urge to throw himself into her arms and cry was strong, but he reminded himself that she wasn’t his mother.

He nodded silently, afraid that if he opened his mouth, everything he’d been holding in would spill out.

She stood and joined her husband. After finishing their conversation with Mr. Lee, they left the room with Jun.

“Is your sister not coming?”

Jongho looked up at Mr. Lee and shrugged.

Mr. Lee clicked his tongue. “She’s probably tired of all your troublemaking,” he muttered under his breath.

Jongho held back a glare. Normally, comments like that wouldn’t bother him, but this time it stung. Maybe she is tired of him. Maybe she’d finally reached the point where she was too embarrassed to show her face and call him her brother. A small, heavy thought crept in…

Does she hate me now?

“I can step in as his guardian for today, if you’ll let me. I’ll take him home.”

Jongho had almost forgotten San was still there.

Mr. Lee cleared his throat and nodded. “Sure, sure. He’s dismissed. Your suspension starts today.”

Jongho had San take him to Yeosang's home, instead of his own.

As soon as they arrived, Jongho stepped out of the car without a word, not even a thank you, and hurried to the door. He knew the passcode, so he let himself in and went straight to Yeosang’s room.

Yeosang was sitting on a bean bag in front of his TV, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as Jongho entered and smiled.

Jongho didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The two of them rarely did. Around Yeosang, silence never felt awkward, and Jongho liked that because sometimes, he simply just didn’t want to talk.

He walked over and lowered himself onto the floor, resting his head on Yeosang’s lap. Yeosang’s fingers naturally slipped into his hair, gently combing through the strands.

The moment he felt that familiar touch, Jongho let out a long, shaky sigh, as if he’d been holding his breath all day. His eyes drifted shut, and his body relaxed against him.

It always amazed him how, with Yeosang, he could let his guard down so easily. He didn’t know what it was, maybe the quiet, maybe the unspoken understanding, but it was the only time he truly felt at ease.

Yeosang went back to scrolling through his phone with one hand, the other still threading through Jongho’s hair. The steady, absentminded touch felt grounding, and Jongho’s breathing slowed. 

Some time passed with the two staying like this before Jongho broke the silence. His voice was quiet. 

“I miss my mom and dad…” 

Yeosang immediately put down his phone, bringing his full attention to him. This was the first time he had expressed how he felt. He had never spoken about his family or personal life. But it seemed like he was finally starting to open up. He reached for his hand, and gently squeezed it, thumb gently grazing over the wounds from earlier. 

With a slow shaky breath, he continued speaking. 

“I just…” he squeezed Yeosang’s hand. “I just want to be able to hug them again…I miss my moms cooking, my dads cheesy jokes…” Yeosang hums in response, just quietly listening. He notices a tear fall from his eye as Jongho moves to bury himself deeper against him, letting go of his hand to wrap his arms around his waist, his face pressed against his belly.

“I miss not being so broken and pathetic and a fucking dissappontment–” his voice cracks, followed by quiet whimper, hugging Yeosang tighter. 

Yeosang once again brushes his fingers through Jongho's hair, soothing him as he quietly sobbed against him. After a moment, Yeosang finally spoke. 

“I don’t think you’re pathetic nor a disappointment.” Jongho stayed silent. “What I see is a teen boy who is grieving the loss of two important people in his life, a boy who is still figuring himself out and how to accept this loss…it might be taking you a while but I think that’s okay.” He cups Jongho’s face in his hands and lifts his face up so he could look at him. 

“I know you will find yourself again, Jongho, and I will stay by your side for however long you need me to.”

Jongho stared into Yeosang’s eyes, his vision growing blurry again. Yeosang slid off the bean bag to join Jongho on the floor, pulling him in close and wrapping his arms around him. Jongho buried his face against Yeosang’s neck, sniffling. 

They stayed like that for a while as Yeosang comforted him. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“Jongho had been attending MMA classes for years before we lost our parents, I’m more worried about the other kid than him,” Areum explained as she and Mingi were approaching the lot. 

The air buzzed before she even realized what was happening. A sharp, electric hum filled her ears, too loud and too close. She barely had time to turn toward the sound when a burst of light flashed across her vision.

The explosion came a second later. A deafening crack, followed by a rush of heat that swept past her, carrying the smell of burning metal after a nearby fuse box had exploded.

Her body moved before her mind caught up. A scream ripped from her throat as she stumbled backward, hitting the ground hard. Her pulse spiked, breath stuttering as her surroundings blurred into noise and light.

Her hands pressed against the pavement, trying to ground herself, but it only made her feel the tremor in her own arms. The buzzing in her ears grew louder until it drowned everything out.

Her breathing turned rapid and shallow, sharp gasps tearing from her throat. Her heart pounded painfully against her chest, making it harder to breathe. She covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut as her head began to spin, flashes of that day flooding her mind as if she were there all over again.

The towering flames. The thick black smoke swallowing everything whole. The heat searing her skin. The sound of people shouting and screaming until it all blurred together.

Even when she opened her eyes, the visions didn’t fade. The world around her wavered between then and now, and she couldn’t tell what was real anymore.

She then heard a distant voice calling her name. As she tried to focus on the voice it started to sound closer but almost muffled. It took a bit for her to make out what it was saying. 

“Areum, Areum it’s me. It’s Mingi—” 

Mingi? Mingi, it’s Mingi. 

His voice was starting to grow clearer, though still a little muffled.

“I’m going to grab your hands, I need you to focus on me, on my voice…”

She felt his hands wrap around hers, his touch firm but gentle.

“I need you to breathe with me, alright? Squeeze my hands if you understand.”

And she did.

Her fingers squeezed weakly around his. It was the smallest sign of awareness, but for Mingi, it was enough. He exhaled, tension bleeding from his shoulders as he studied her face.

She was shaking. Her face was pale. And for the first time since he’d met her, she looked completely lost.

Thankfully, though at the same time, unfortunately, Mingi had seen enough to recognize a trauma response when he saw one. He’d been around soldiers and friends who carried scars far deeper than what anyone could see, and he’d learned to read the signs early on. The shaking hands, the shallow breathing, the look in their eyes as if they were no longer in the present world.

Back then, he had promised himself that if it ever happened again, he would know what to do. He did his research on it and how to handle it. So now, seeing Areum like this, he instinctively moved into action. 

“Breathe with me, okay? Deep breath in…”

He inhaled slowly, exaggerating the motion so she could follow. Her breath came out shaky at first, but she mirrored him. He kept going, voice soft and steady, guiding her through each breath until hers began to even out.

“Good,” he murmured. “Now look at me. Wherever you just went, that’s not real. You’re here with me.”

Still holding one of her hands, he released the other to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that streaked down her face. He tilted her chin up gently until her eyes met his. The second their gazes locked, her grip on his hand tightened.

“You’re right here, Areum. You’re safe,” he said quietly. “Can you tell me where you are?”

Her lips parted, her voice barely a whisper as the words escaped.

“...Here. With Mingi.”

For a moment, everything went still. It was the first time she had ever said his name without the title. Not Sergeant. Just Mingi.

Something in his chest tightened, but he pushed the thought aside, focusing on the trembling girl in front of him. This wasn’t the time. Still, hearing his name like that, it stuck with him.

“Let’s get you home, yeah? Can you stand?”

She nodded, and he helped her to her feet, steadying her with one arm around her waist while holding her hand in the other. His touch was gentle but firm as he guided her to the car.

He opened the passenger door, helped her inside, and buckled her seat belt before moving to the driver’s side.

After getting her address and entering it into the GPS, Mingi started the car. The ride was quiet. The hum of the engine filled the silence between them.

Areum leaned against the door, her head resting against the window as she watched the buildings slide past in a blur. Her hands sat in her lap, gripping and ungripping the hem of her hoodie.

Slowly, exhaustion began to settle over her. The weight of what had just happened, mixed with the days of lost sleep, pulled at her eyelids. Her fingers loosened, her breathing evened out, and before long, she drifted into a light sleep, still faintly aware of the world moving around her

She opened her eyes when she felt the car come to a stop. Mingi stepped out as she fumbled with her seatbelt, finally unclicking it just as he opened her door.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” he said.

She only nodded, too tired to argue.

Once they were inside the building and in the elevator, Mingi didn’t look away from her. He watched as she leaned against the wall, head bowed, fingers gripping the rail behind her.

He couldn’t help but wonder what she had gone through to react the way she did. What kind of memory could break through her composure like that? Where had her mind taken her?

He wanted to ask. He wanted to understand.

More than that, he wanted to protect her, to be someone she could lean on. But he knew better than to pry. Not yet. Not when she already looked like she might break if anyone pushed too hard.

The elevator stopped on the fourth floor, doors sliding open. He followed her down the hall to her door, standing just behind her as she keyed in the code to her apartment.

As she cracked the door open, she paused, her hand resting on the door handle before she turned toward him. “If… if it’s not too much to ask, can you stay with me for a bit?” she mumbled. “I just don’t want to be alone…”

She bit her lip nervously, looking up at him with quiet anticipation, her eyes soft and uncertain, like a puppy waiting for reassurance.

The sight of her melted something inside him. He nodded with a small smile, reaching out to gently pat her head.

“If you really want me to, I will.”

She nodded once more, relief washing over her features as she opened the door wider for him to follow her inside. 

Once they were inside, he guided her to the sofa, sitting her down.

“I’m going to get you something to drink, okay?” he said, giving her head a light pat.

“I’m not really thirsty, it’s okay—”

He didn’t listen. Instead, he made his way into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a cold bottle of water. When he returned, he twisted off the cap and held it out to her.

“Drink up.”

She took the bottle without argument and sipped, then kept sipping until nearly half of it was gone. Mingi chuckled, taking a seat beside her.

“I thought you weren’t thirsty,” he teased.

She pouted and shrugged, avoiding his gaze as she set down the bottle on the coffee table.

She leaned back against the sofa, her head resting on the cushion as a long, weary sigh escaped her. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the tension in her shoulders slowly easing.

Mingi shifted beside her, settling in. He bent one leg up onto the cushion and turned slightly toward her, his elbow resting along the back of the sofa, head propped lazily against his fist. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. His presence was enough, and for now, that was all she seemed to need. He was happy to give her that.

Shifting a bit where she sat, Areum finally gave in to the exhaustion that weighed heavy in her body. Without thinking, she leaned forward and rested her head against Mingi’s thigh. It was not deliberate, her body simply moved on its own, seeking warmth and comfort.

He froze, his heart skipping a beat. He had not expected her to lay on him like that, and for a moment he did not know what to do. But when he looked down at her, his tension eased. Her expression was soft, her breathing slow and steady, her shoulders rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm.

He was not sure what had gone through her mind, or why she had chosen to lean on him, but for her to drop her guard like this told him more than words ever could. She trusted him. And that meant more to Mingi than he could admit.

His hand hovered uncertainly above her for a moment before he finally let his fingers brush back a loose strand of hair from her face. Without realizing it, his touch lingered, fingertips tracing through her hair gently.

He watched her in silence, taking in the sight of her resting there. Seeing her so calm and unguarded made his heart stir.

Letting out a soft breath, he relaxed back against the sofa, his head resting on the cushion as he closed his eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep himself.

It wasn’t until his smartwatch started buzzing against his wrist that he woke up. He was about to stretch when he felt her head still resting on his lap, the reminder of her presence making him pause. 

He tilted his wrist to check the time, but blocking the clock was a new text message. With a sigh he read through them. 

Unknown: Let’s meet

Unknown: Hello???

Unknown: I know you’re reading my messages

Unknown: For fucksake answer me

Unknown: Please???

Unknown: I miss you…

Unknown: Mingi let’s just talk that’s all I want

He rolled his eyes and deleted the messages immediately. He had been getting messages like that for months now, all from different numbers but clearly the same person. The thought made his jaw tighten. Maybe it was time to finally change his number.

He sighed and looked at the time again. An hour had passed since he’d been there.

Deciding he should leave, he gently lifted her head, sliding out from beneath her and replacing his thigh with a throw pillow from the sofa. He glanced around for something to cover her with and spotted a throw blanket draped over the chair. Grabbing it, he unfolded it and laid it over her carefully. 

He lingered for a moment, eyes tracing the gentle rise and fall of her shoulders beneath the blanket. The peacefulness in her face eased his mind from any worry he had since the fuse box explosion from earlier.

Stepping quietly, he grabbed his jacket from where he had set it earlier and made his way to the door. His hand rested on the handle for a second, and he glanced back once more before he slipped out, closing the door behind him with care, leaving the apartment wrapped in silence.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“So, you think she has it?” The man’s finger tapped rhythmically against the desk, the sound echoing faintly through the dimly lit room.

“It would make sense. We’ve searched everywhere else,” the other replied.

The first man leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he thought. “Hmm… track her down, then. Find a way to get to it.”

A slow smirk spread across the second man’s face. “Already ahead of you, boss.”

The first man didn’t return the smile. He just looked out the window, the city lights flickering across his face.

“Good,” he said quietly. “Make sure there are no loose ends this time.”

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

[norixseaweed]

Through The Storm: Chapter 5

Title: Through the Storm Chapter 5 Rating: Mature (Some adult themes) Contains: Slow burn, PTSD, Trauma, Underaged drinking/smoking, some violence Characters: Mingi, Fem OC, Jongho, Yunho AU: Aged up Military!Mingi, Aged up Professor!Yunho, Aged down Teen!Jongho Masterlist | Ao3 | AFF | Wattpad Previous Chapter - Next Chapter Synopsis: Areum is a college student trying to keep her life together. Between school, her part-time job, and taking care of her younger brother, every day feels like a blur. She doesn’t have much time to think about herself or the things she’s been through. She just keeps moving forward. Then she meets Mingi, someone who somehow makes everything feel a little lighter. He’s easy to talk to, easy to be around, and before she realizes it, he starts becoming an important part of her days. Through him, Areum starts to find a bit of peace in the chaos, learning that maybe it’s okay to lean on someone else once in a while. But as she begins to rebuild her sense of peace, she soon realizes that some truths can’t stay buried forever and that her parents’ deaths might not be as simple as it seemed.

Waiting at the entrance of the fairgrounds, Areum scanned the crowd of people weaving in and out. Families carrying popcorn and snacks, children hanging onto balloons, and couples walking by hand-in-hand. She was early, but Mingi had invited her out, and she didn’t want to risk being late especially when this had been her first time going out since the loss of her parents.

A sudden grip landed on her shoulders. She gasps and instinct takes over, her elbow shot back, connecting solidly with someone’s gut. Something her brother taught her for self-defense. 

“Fuck, Areum!” a pained groan followed.

She spun around, eyes widening as Yunho doubled over slightly, one hand clutching his stomach.

“Oh, Professor! I’m so sorry—oh my god, are you okay?”

He straightened slowly, waving her off with a grimace. “Don’t be sorry. I probably deserved that. Shouldn’t have tried to sneak up on you.” A faint chuckle escaped him as he gave her head a light pat. “You’re stronger than you look.”

She blinked, still flustered. “You’re here for the festival too?”

“Didn’t Mingi tell you?” Yunho asked, a grin tugging at his lips. “He told me about your plans and invited me along. Thought it might be fun.”

“I did not invite you. Actually, you invited yourself.”

Areum and Yunho turned toward the voice.

Mingi stood a few steps away, impossible to miss. His military green compression shirt clung to his chest and arms, showing off his build, showing more detail than she’d ever seen before. Black baggy jeans hung low on his hips, casual and loose, while the chains hanging from his neck glinted under the lights. Silver rings covered his fingers, and his sunglasses gave him an edge that made him look untouchable. Areum’s cheeks warmed before she realized she’d been staring. She bit her lip and quickly turned away, embarrassed at herself.

That’s when her eyes caught what Yunho was wearing. His white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, fit neatly beneath a gray vest. The black tie at his chest was loosened just enough to make him look effortlessly relaxed, though the vest still emphasized the lines of his shoulders and his slim frame. He had on black cargo pants and a studded belt that added a rougher edge that clashed in the best way with his clean style. 

Standing there together, the two of them couldn’t have been more different. Mingi was bold and untouchable, Yunho composed and sharp. 

She had already learned Mingi could dress when she saw him at the café, but Yunho caught her off guard. She never imagined he had style, she always pictured him as the type to dress like a book nerd.

Now she found herself standing between the handsome men, both tall, both striking in their own way, and she could not ignore the contrast. It left her flustered. To make matters worse, she felt completely underdressed next to them. At least, that was how it seemed to her. 

She shifted on her feet, suddenly aware of her own outfit. A white cropped tank top peeked out from beneath the oversized brown knit cardigan she had thrown on that morning. Paired with loose-fitting blue jeans and her old high-top sneakers, her long hair up in a high pony-tail with her bangs let loose. Casual and comfortable. 

Standing between the two of them now, her simple clothes felt almost childlike compared to how sharp and put together they looked.

Despite what she thought, both of them actually found her appearance nice and refreshing. It was a change from her usual look of shorts, sweats, and hoodies, always with long sleeves.

Mingi, especially, couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. Her style was simple but refreshingly cute, and the way she had matched her makeup to the outfit gave her a warm, natural glow that drew his attention to her.

“What?” Yunho tilted his head when he noticed how she was looking at him.

She shook her head and smiled.

“Nothing, I was just thinking, you two look like models right now.” They really did, they looked like they belonged on the cover of a magazine and if they were she was sure the magazines would sell out fast.

Yunho’s mouth curved into a smug grin as he straightened his shoulders like he was posing. “Models, huh? I’ll take that.”

Beside him, Mingi adjusted his sunglasses with mock seriousness, but there was a flash of amusement tugging at his lips. He crossed his arms over his chest to pose.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes before grabbing them both by their arms and tugging them along inside.

“Don’t let it get to your head though, that’s the last time I give you a compliment. Now let’s get inside. I really want a churro.”

Yunho laughed under his breath, letting her pull him along without resistance. “One compliment and you’re already regretting it? That hurts.”

Mingi shook his head, amusement flickering behind his sunglasses as he allowed himself to be dragged forward. “Guess we better savor the moment then.”

Unknown to either of them, her sudden craving for churros had less to do with sweets and more to do with saving herself, from the heat of her own thoughts, from the way they looked standing there together, and from the danger of staring any longer than she already had.

The three of them wandered through the fair together, weaving from one attraction to the next. They sampled snacks and sweets, tried their luck at game stalls where bright lights flashed and prizes dangled overhead, and paused often to snap pictures, sometimes of each other, sometimes all together. A few rides drew them in, laughter spilling out as the world blurred past in quick jolts of color.

Everywhere they went, performers filled the air with music, acrobatics, and dancing, making Areum nostalgic of her childhood days.

Areum walked a few steps ahead, brochure in hand as she tried to figure out where they should stop next. Just as she looked up, a sudden burst of fire shot into the air, close enough that the heat brushed across her skin. Her chest tightened before she even realized it, breath picking up, hands trembling as she froze.

For just a moment she was no longer there, but somewhere else, surrounded by flames.

“Areum!”

She was pulled back to reality as a pair of hands found her, pulling her into their chest, grounding her before the panic could take hold. She blinked rapidly, trying to slow her breathing as the crowd around them cheered and clapped. It was just a fire-breathing performer, nothing more. The fair carried on with music and laughter, reminding her she was safe. 

She looked up to see that Yunho was the one holding her.

She hadn’t expected him to step in like that but the warmth helped steady her and she was thankful for it.

Meanwhile, right beside them stood Mingi, confusion flickering across his face. He hadn’t seen what startled her, only turned in time to find Yunho holding her close, steadying her like she might fall apart. His chest twisted unexpectedly, a dull ache settling in as he stared, wondering what he had missed and why it bothered him so much to see her in someone else’s arms.

The feeling came out of nowhere. He pushed it down before it could linger.

Areum soon pulled away, looking up at Yunho, whose hand settled gently on top of her head.

“You alright?”

She nodded, offering him a small, reassuring smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you, Yunho.”

“What happened?”

The two of them looked over to Mingi, who was still staring, trying to piece together what he’d just seen. Yunho glanced back down at Areum, silently asking if it was okay to explain.

She gave a small nod.

“She has a fear of fire,” Yunho said calmly. “She’s fine with small, controlled flames, but sudden bursts or anything big can catch her off guard.”

The confused pinch in Mingi’s expression eased into concern. He didn’t press for details, only tilted his head slightly. “So… like a phobia?”

Areum gave him a quick, sheepish nod, her smile faint but steady. “Something like that. But I’ll be okay.”

After Areum had regained herself and the two were sure she was okay they continued their day normally, this time Yunho was leading the way to make sure Areum didn't run into any more fire breathers. Mingi and Areum ended up walking side by side as they followed Yunho around the fair grounds. 

Occasionally their hands brushed as they walked, neither of them pulling away, though the small contact left both a little shy.

At some point, Mingi’s phone started ringing. Despite him rejecting the calls again and again, they kept coming for a while. His irritation grew more obvious with each buzz, and when Yunho and Areum told him he could take the call, he shook his head.

“Not a call I want to take,” was all he said.

Areum couldn’t help but worry. She could see the tension in his expression, even though he tried to mask it. Wanting to distract him, she challenged him to a few of the games scattered around the fair.

It worked for a little while, though soon Yunho jumped in and took over her spot, getting competitive with Mingi in the next few rounds. She stood behind them, laughing quietly to herself as she snapped a few photos of the two acting like overgrown kids.

“Remind me, how old are you again?” she asked once they finished.

Yunho widened his eyes dramatically and pouted, holding up five fingers. “I'm five!” he shouted in a childlike tone. 

Areum laughed softly.

“Not me,” Mingi said, crossing his arms over his chest, standing with pride. “I am fully aware and not embarrassed by my childish behavior at the ripe old age of twenty-nine.”

Yunho had noticed the sun was setting and it was beginning to get dark. He checked the time on his watch before placing his palms against both of their backs.

“Should we head back now?” he asked, already nudging them toward the exit.

Areum blinked, confused, while Mingi immediately protested.

“Wait, what about the fireworks? That’s the best part!”

She burst out laughing at the sight of him. Broad-shouldered and intimidating to anyone who didn’t know better, but here he was pouting like a small child. The contradiction was too much.

Still, she found herself agreeing with Yunho. “Maybe we should call it here.”

Mingi stared, scandalized. 

“You’re just gonna let her miss out on the fireworks?”

“She doesn’t like fireworks,” Yunho said matter-of-factly, already steering them forward. “Now come on, I’m hungry. Let’s get some samgyupsal.”

Areum’s laughter spilled over again as Mingi groaned in defeat, following Yunho's lead. 

As they left the fair grounds together, Areum couldn’t help but feel a warmth grow in her chest when she looked at them. She felt lighter, like the weight that was settled on her chest had finally come off.

She was glad that she decided to let Mingi convince her to come out and even happy that Yunho had joined them. 

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The smell of burning wood stung her nostrils, smoke filling her lungs with every breath. The haze made it hard to see anything beyond the flicker of flames closing in on all sides. She coughed, stumbling as she tried to find a way out, but every turn was met with a wall of dancing fire.

“Areum.”

She spun toward the voice. Nothing.

“Areum!”

She turned again, heart hammering, but there was no one.

“Areum.”

“Areum!”

The voices echoed from nowhere and everywhere at once. Her throat tightened when she tried to scream for it to stop, but no sound came out. She tried again. Nothing.

“AREUM!”

Her eyes flew open.

A tall shadow loomed in the corner of her room, its presence heavy, suffocating. Her pulse thundered as panic surged through her. Her breaths came fast and shallow as the figure started moving toward her. She tried to get up, run, but her body wouldn’t obey.

Flames suddenly engulfed the figure, a low, guttural laugh rumbling through the room.

Move. Move.

Her lips parted, but only a broken whimper escaped. Tears streamed down her face as she strained against her unresponsive limbs.

Then, finally, something snapped. Her body jerked into motion, and the figure vanished. Gasping, she pushed herself upright, every muscle heavy and sluggish, fighting to drag her back down.

She clutched her chest, taking shaky breaths. “It wasn’t real. It was just a dream,” she reminded herself. “Not real… not real.”

Once she was calm she turned on the bedside lamp, the warm light chasing away the darkness as she reached for her phone.

3:45 a.m. 

With a soft groan, she dropped her head back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. “No way in hell I’m getting any sleep now.”

For a while, she just sat there in the silence of her dimly lit room, replaying the dream. Whatever that thing was, she knew she hadn’t actually seen a demon. She unlocked her phone and started typing into the search bar.

“Sleep paralysis, huh?” she muttered, scoffing. “Great. Guess I’ll never get any sleep.”

The next few nights were sleepless for Areum. Fear kept her from closing her eyes, and on the rare occasions she did drift off, her anxiety jolted her awake soon after. She filled the long hours with schoolwork, reading ahead for her classes, or taking quiet walks to clear her head. The exhaustion was slowly wearing her down, but she refused to admit it, let alone acknowledge just how much it was taking a toll.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Yunho. He saw how tired she looked, each day worse than the last.

During his lecture, his eyes kept drifting back to her. Her head would nod forward as she fought to stay awake, her gaze unfocused and distant. The dark circles under her eyes were deeper than he’d ever seen them.

When class ended and the students began filing out, Yunho called her name. She didn’t respond. He called again, louder this time, and when she still didn’t react, he stepped closer and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Areum?”

She gasped softly and turned to him, relaxing her shoulders once she realized it was him.

“Oh, what’s up, Professor?”

“Where’s your head at? Did you not hear me calling you?”

She tilted her head and blinked, shaking herself out of her daze.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Did you need something?”

“Yeah. You. In my office. We need to talk.”

She followed him to his office, already bracing herself for the scolding she knew was coming. There wasn’t much she could get past Yunho. He was sharp, always observant, and good at catching the things others missed.

They sat down on the leather two-seater sofa in his office, and he turned to face her. “When was the last time you slept?” She shrugged, pulling her legs up and crossing them, hands folded in her lap. “Three… maybe four days. I don’t remember.”

He raised a brow, leaning closer as he brought the back of his hand to her forehead to check for a fever. “You don’t seem sick, so what’s going on? Have you tried anything to help you sleep?”

She shook her head. “It’s not that I can’t fall asleep. I just have a hard time staying asleep… or wanting to…” Her voice dropped to a quiet mumble at the end.

Yunho wasn’t sure he heard her right. “You don’t want to sleep?”

Her half-lidded eyes met his, and she nodded. “The nightmares have gotten bad recently.” She chewed on the inside of her lip.

“Worse than when you first had them? Have you been seeing your therapist at all lately?”

She stayed silent, gaze falling to the floor. Shame flickered across her face as she avoided his eyes.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a soft sigh. “Areum… you promised me you’d be consistent with your visits.”

She hugged her knees to her chest, shoulders shrinking in. Yunho placed a comforting hand on her head. “What’s got you so scared to sleep? What have your dreams been showing you?”

“Demons…” she mumbled.

“Huh?”

“I got sleep paralysis for the first time. It was one of the most terrifying things I’ve experienced. I couldn’t move, couldn’t scream… I don’t want to see it again.”

He shifted closer and pulled her against his side, wrapping an arm around her. “I won’t push you to do anything, but can you at least start telling me these things instead of carrying it all by yourself?”

She nodded quietly.

“If you’re gonna cry, don’t mess up my shirt. I’ve still got another class later.” His tone turned playful, teasing.

“I’m not gonna cry.”

“It’s okay to cry, Areum. Just let it out. I’m right here.”

She nudged him with her elbow and rolled her eyes. “Not gonna cry.”

He started patting her head. “Shh, it’s okay, stop fighting it.”

“How about I give you something to cry about instead?” she shot back playfully, pulling away and glaring.

He let out a laugh, giving her back a light pat. “Go home and get some sleep, Areum.” He reached out to poke her forehead. “And take the day off tomorrow. You shouldn’t be working when you’re in this condition. You could get yourself hurt. So take the day off and rest. This is an order, not a request. Got it?”

Areum rolled her eyes and stood, grabbing her bag.

“Areum, please answer me.”

She sighed and gave a small nod. “Fine, fine. I’ll see you later, Professor.”

He stood and walked her to the door, but she paused and turned back to him.

“Oh, I almost forgot to ask… what happened that summer?”

Yunho’s brow furrowed, his head tilting slightly. “Which one?”

“Back in 2022. I’m curious.”

His eyes widened as realization hit him. “Fuck, he told you about that?” He cursed under his breath, pressing his fingers against his temples. “I’m seriously going to kill this guy. Tell him to look forward to that.”

He gently nudged her out of the office and closed the door behind her.

Even as the door clicked shut, she could still hear him muttering curses to himself inside. She didn’t understand what had just happened, but his reaction was so unexpectedly dramatic that it made her chuckle.

Turning away, she made her way out and headed home, telling herself she would pry the answers out of them later when she wasn’t so sleep deprived.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Today was like any other day for Mingi. Wake up. Get ready. Work out. Meetings. Lab.

He worked alongside his team, everyone focused on their individual tasks. The team had been making great progress lately, and Mingi was proud of them. He even came up with the idea to throw a little party for the interns as a way to show appreciation and give them some encouragement. After discussing it with the supervisors and the other leads, everyone agreed and pitched in to bring cake and snacks. The plan was to surprise the interns toward the end of the shift.

Everything was running smoothly as Mingi made his rounds, checking in on everyone. That is, until he reached Areum.

He had noticed it the moment he walked in. The dark circles. The bloodshot eyes. Her pale face. She was zoning out more than usual, and it set off alarms in his head. When she nearly dropped a vial, Mingi caught her hand just in time.

“Maybe you should go take a break. Get some fresh air, yeah?”

Areum looked up at him, her eyes lifeless. “But—”

“That’s an order. Please go and take a break.”

He couldn’t tell exactly what was going on behind her distant gaze, but when she nodded and gave in, he exhaled softly, relieved that she didn’t argue.

Things continued as usual. Some time had passed since Areum had gone on her break when Mingi glanced down at his smartwatch and saw Yunho’s name flash across the screen. Stepping outside, he answered the call. 

“What’s up, Yunho?”

“Well, first off… did you tell Areum what happened that summer?” A deep chuckle rumbled from Mingi’s chest.

“Ah, so she talked to you about it? What’d you say?”

“Song Mingi! You fuck! I didn’t tell her anything. What did you tell her, that’s the real question?”

“Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to tease you a bit. I only told her to ask you about that summer. Nothing else, I promise.” He laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

“Fuck you, Mingi. Seriously. You had me stressing…” Yunho sighed heavily into the phone.

“Anyway… did she come to work?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I knew it. She wasn’t going to listen… send her home, Mingi. Please.”

“I was already considering it, honestly. But now I’m curious, why are you asking me that?” 

“She hasn’t slept in days. I told her to take the day off and rest before she loses her mind.”

Mingi’s brows knit together. That explained a lot. He had already picked up on her exhaustion from the way she looked and acted, but hearing it confirmed made his concern settle deeper. He agreed with Yunho that sending her home was the right call.

When the call ended, Mingi had headed out to find Areum. She wasn’t hard to find. She was in the garden at one of the picnic tables, she sat with her head resting on her folded arms. 

As he approached, he saw her eyes were closed, her breathing slow and steady. Her back rose and fell gently with each breath. The way she looked in that moment, peaceful and vulnerable, softened something inside him.

A small smile tugged at his lips. He decided not to wake her and quietly took a seat across from her. Propping his elbow on the table, he rested his chin in his palm and simply watched her.

When a breeze swept a few strands of hair across her face, he reached forward and carefully brushed them back behind her ear, his movements slow and gentle so that he wouldn't disturb her.

For a while, he just sat there, watching her sleep.

Then the screen of her phone lit up, followed by a soft vibration. Realizing it was an alarm, he quickly reached over and silenced it before it could ring and wake her.

He let out a quiet breath of relief and relaxed, watching her a little longer. He wanted to let her rest as much as she could before he had to wake her.

Not too long after, her phone went off again. This time it was a call. Mingi muttered a quiet curse at whoever was interrupting.

Areum stirred with a soft groan, grabbing the phone and bringing it to her ear without lifting her head. She hadn’t noticed his presence yet.

“Hello?” she answered groggily.

A second later, her eyes shot open and she lifted her head. “He did what?!”

As she listened to the voice on the other end, her gaze shifted and finally landed on Mingi. Her eyes widened once more. He gave her a small nod in greeting.

“Sh– I mean, I’m so sorry, I’m at work right now. I’ll head there as soon as I can get permission to leave… thank you… goodbye.”

She ended the call and stood from the bench in a rush. “I need to leave early, I’m so sorry. It’s my brother,” she said, pleading with her eyes.

Mingi stood as well. “I was going to send you home early anyway. Go grab your things so I can drive you there.”

“I–” She started to protest. She hated being an inconvenience to anyone, but this time was different. It was urgent. “Okay… I’d like that. Thank you.”

Mingi smiled at her response and walked her back to the building. He sent a quick text to his supervisor, explaining her family emergency and letting him know he would be giving her a ride. Then he waited outside for her to grab her things.

Once she reappeared, they walked together toward the parking lot.

“Is your brother okay?” Mingi asked.

Areum let out a soft scoff. “Oh, he’s okay. Let’s just hope the kid he beat up is okay, though.”

Mingi raised a brow. “He got into a fight?”

“Sounds like it,” she replied. “He’s pretty strong compared to the other kids. He used to take MMA classes, so I’m worried about how bad the beating was.”

As they neared the parking lot, a sudden buzzing noise broke through the quiet. Mingi’s head turned toward the sound, his brows knitting in confusion.

Before he could process it, a sharp crack and a burst of light erupted from a nearby fuse box. A split second later, a loud boom rang out, the force of it sending a rush of hot air across the lot.

Mingi instinctively flinched at the noise, adrenaline spiking as the sound echoed off the surrounding buildings.

Then he heard it. A scream, sharp and sudden, followed by the dull thud of something hitting the ground.

His eyes snapped toward Areum.

Something was wrong.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of coffee and cigarettes. Papers and folders lay scattered across the table in messy stacks, some edges curling from use. Outside, rain tapped steadily against the windows.

“The evidence is still out there,” the first voice said. “We need to find it and get rid of it.”

“If someone had caught him sooner, we would not be in this mess,” another snapped. “I told you to put me on it.”

“Fuck you,” the third cursed. “You think you would have done any better? You are not some top tier spy. None of us are.”

The first voice cut in, hard and calm. “Both of you, shut up. We are not here to argue.” He leaned forward, palms flat on the table as if steadying himself. “Focus. Find the documents. Retrace his steps. He likely left them where he thought they would be safe.”

There was a pause. Paper rustled. A pen clicked against the wood.

“Now get out there, and do not screw this up again.”

They moved like shadows then, pulling on coats and disappearing into the rain, leaving the building.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

[koyagifs]

yes or no

pairing: mingi x reader ft. yunho au: non idol | one sided love genre: angst with no comfort word count: 1.5k synopsis: are we falling in love? warning(s): mention of

You watched Mingi from the edge of the crowd, the music thudding through your chest like a heartbeat that didn’t belong to you. His bare chest glistened under the stage lights, his smile wide and effortless as the audience screamed his name. You tried to join in, to cheer like everyone else, but the sound caught in your throat. He looked so alive, so far from you, that it almost hurt to watch. And even as you clapped along, a quiet ache settled in your chest, knowing he’d never look at you the way you looked at him.

Once the show ended, you drifted toward the sidelines, eyes catching on the guarded entrance to the backstage area. The last of your mixed drink burned its way down as you took a deep breath, forcing down the nerves twisting in your chest. A reluctant sigh slipped past your lips.

“If I didn’t know any better,” a familiar voice teased behind you, “I’d say you’re dreading going to see Mingi.”

You turned to find Yunho standing there, his smile playful but his eyes carrying that quiet understanding you wished he didn’t have.

“And what are you doing here, hmm?” you asked, forcing a small laugh. “Don’t you go on soon?”

He stepped closer, leaning down until his breath brushed against your ear, the teasing curve of his lips softening as he spoke. “I do,” he murmured. “But how could I not bring Mingi’s future girlfriend backstage?”

The words were light, but his tone wasn’t—there was something fragile beneath it, something that made your chest ache. You smiled anyway, pretending not to hear the sadness tucked between his jokes.

You swallowed hard. “I think I’m going to pass on seeing him this time…” you murmured, your voice smaller than you meant it to be.

But Yunho didn’t give you a choice. His hand found the small of your back—steady, reassuring, yet impossible to resist—as he guided you toward the backstage entrance.

The hallway buzzed with noise: staff calling out, doors slamming, laughter echoing from somewhere behind the curtain. But all of it blurred together as your pulse grew louder, matching your footsteps. Every step closer to Mingi’s changing room felt heavier, like walking straight into something you weren’t ready to feel again.

“Dude, you were crazy tonight! Did you see how the crowd was cheering for you?” someone shouted from inside the room, their voice bright and full of adrenaline.

You froze just outside the half-open door. Mingi’s laugh followed—a sound you’d heard a hundred times but never this close, never this raw. It rolled through the air, easy and carefree, the kind of laugh that made everyone around him feel lighter. Everyone except you.

“At least yn isn’t here,” someone inside joked, their voice cutting through the noise like glass. “man, can she be clingy as hell. what do you even see in her?”

The laughter that followed hit harder than it should have—sharp, careless, and cruel. You didn’t know who said it, but it didn’t matter. All you could hear now was the echo of your name, twisted into something small and embarrassing.

“What do you mean? You don’t think she’s my girlfriend, do you, Wooyoung?”

“Wait, seriously? She isn’t?” Wooyoung’s voice came through, light and oblivious. “The way she hangs around you—it kinda seems like she is.”

Your stomach dropped, but your hand moved before your heart could catch up. You pushed the door open, that same practiced smile already plastered on your face.

“Hey, Min,” you said softly, ignoring the panic flashing across their faces. Yunho lingered just behind you, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was fighting a laugh—but it wasn’t amusement. It was disbelief. Maybe even pity.

“YN—you made it,” Mingi said, his voice barely steady. His usual confidence wavered, cracking under the weight of what you both knew you’d heard.

“Of course I did,” you replied easily, stepping further into the room. “Wouldn’t miss your big night.”

Your tone was light, but your fingers dug into the strap of your bag, the only thing keeping your composure from slipping. The silence that followed was thick, suffocating—until Yunho cleared his throat, cutting through it.

“Stage manager’s looking for you, Wooyoung,” Yunho said casually, his tone holding just enough edge to make Mingi flinch. “You might wanna get ready.”

Wooyoung mumbled a quick “see you later” to Mingi before following Yunho out the door, the sound of their footsteps fading down the hall until only silence remained.

You and Mingi were alone.

It was immediately clear he was uncomfortable—the way his shoulders stiffened, how he couldn’t quite meet your eyes. He fidgeted with the rings on his fingers, his usual confidence gone, replaced by something awkward and uncertain.

You folded your arms loosely, watching him for a moment. The air felt heavier now, thick with everything unsaid.

“You did great out there, Mingi,” you said finally, your voice soft but even.

He glanced up at you, surprise flickering across his face before he looked away again. “Thanks,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh… you watched the whole set?”

You nodded, offering a small, polite smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah. Would’ve been weird not to, right?”

He laughed awkwardly, but it fell flat in the silence that followed. His gaze darted anywhere but you—the floor, his shoes, the scattered bottles on the counter. Anywhere that wasn’t your face.

You shifted your weight, forcing a steady breath. “Don’t worry,” you added quietly. “You don’t have to explain anything.”

That made him finally look at you—really look—but by then, your expression had already closed off, unreadable.

“Look, YN,” he started, his voice low, hesitant. “What you heard— it came out wrong.”

You gave a small, tired laugh, shaking your head. “You don’t have to do that, Mingi. You don’t owe me an excuse.”

“I wasn’t trying to make fun of you,” he said quickly, stepping forward like that might make it better. “Wooyoung was just… joking around, and I—”

“Laughed,” you finished for him, your tone gentle but hollow. “Yeah. I heard.”

He froze, his mouth opening but no words coming out. You offered him a small smile, the kind meant to reassure him, even though you were the one bleeding inside.

“It’s fine,” you whispered.

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “I do appreciate you coming out,” he said finally, his tone careful, polite—like he was talking to a fan, not someone who had once memorized the sound of his laugh.

You nodded, forcing your lips into something that looked like a smile. “Yeah. Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”

The silence stretched again, heavy and uneven. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead, he just offered you a small, grateful smile before glancing toward the door.

And somehow, that hurt more than the words you’d overheard.

You fumbled with the microphone in your hand, your fingers trembling despite how tightly you gripped it. The stage lights were blinding, the crowd a blur of faces and motion that made your stomach twist.

Yunho stood beside you, a steady presence in the chaos. “You’re going to do great, YN,” he said softly, leaning close so only you could hear.

You let out a shaky breath, managing a small nod. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” you murmured, half a laugh, half a confession.

He smiled gently, his voice calm and certain. “You’re here because you needed to be. Now show them what they almost lost.”

You looked up at him then—at the quiet warmth in his eyes—and for the first time that night, the ache in your chest softened. Maybe not healed, but softened enough to let you breathe.

Then the music cue began, the crowd roaring as the lights shifted toward you.

This ain’t another love song, baby…

The moment your voice cut through the speakers, Mingi froze. He turned his head, ignoring the girl clinging to him, but the look on his face wasn’t what you wanted—it was surprise, maybe even guilt, but it wasn’t love.

You sang with every ounce of yourself, each note a confession he would never truly hear. The crowd cheered, but their voices blurred into white noise. All you could see was him, just a few feet away, untouchable, and yet the reason your heart ached so fiercely.

By the time the final note left your lips, the room erupted in applause—but you couldn’t feel it. Mingi’s eyes never found yours again, and the girl leaning into him smiled too easily, brushing against him in a way that made your chest tighten.

You lowered the microphone, forcing a steady breath, and without a word, turned on your heel. Yunho’s hand brushed yours for a fleeting second, grounding you as you walked away, leaving the cheers, the lights, and him behind.

Your heart felt heavy, full of words you’d never speak, and a love that would remain unreturned, echoing in the spaces where he’d never look back.

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[norixseaweed]

Through The Storm: Chapter 2

Title: Through the Storm Chapter 2 Rating: Mature (Some adult themes) Contains: Slow burn, PTSD, Trauma, Underaged drinking/smoking, some violence Characters: Mingi, Fem OC, Jongho, Yunho AU: Aged up Military!Mingi, Aged up Professor!Yunho, Aged down Teen!Jongho Masterlist | Ao3 | AFF | Wattpad Previous Chapter - Next Chapter Synopsis: Areum is a college student trying to keep her life together. Between school, her part-time job, and taking care of her younger brother, every day feels like a blur. She doesn’t have much time to think about herself or the things she’s been through. She just keeps moving forward. Then she meets Mingi, someone who somehow makes everything feel a little lighter. He’s easy to talk to, easy to be around, and before she realizes it, he starts becoming an important part of her days. Through him, Areum starts to find a bit of peace in the chaos, learning that maybe it’s okay to lean on someone else once in a while. But as she begins to rebuild her sense of peace, she soon realizes that some truths can’t stay buried forever and that her parents’ deaths might not be as simple as they seemed.

Please reblog if you enjoyed the fic! I will be greatful and it really helps get more readers than a like does ❤️

At exactly 4:30 in the morning the sound of an alarm starts blaring. After some stirring and a groan, a large hand reached over to the nightstand to shut off the alarm. The owner of said hand uncovers himself and climbs out of bed. With heavy steps, he makes his way to the master bathroom connected to his room, getting a start to his daily routine. 

Taking his electric toothbrush off of its mount, he gets the brush wet then squeezes some toothpaste onto the brush. As he's brushing he stares at himself in the mirror. He notices his hair is growing out and makes a mental note to get a cut later. When he's done brushing he rinses his mouth out then washes his face with some face wash then proceeds to fix his hair.

Once he's freshened up, he heads back into his room to fix his bed. When he's sure it's perfect he heads out the second bedroom in his apartment, which he had turned into his personal walk-in closet. He had no use for the second bedroom but when he saw it was just a little more expensive than a one bedroom he decided to apply for it. He was determined to make use of the room somehow. 

It was while he was packing his things he realized just how much clothes he had. He was a fashionable man and loved to style himself when he could and had many accessories. He realized he would need extra space for them. A walk-in closet, that would be it's use. He thought himself a genius.

He had bought some shelves and other things to set up in the room. When the items arrived he did not hesitate to start working on the closet. He had set up shelves on one side of the room then a large mirror on the other and set up a vanity for his accessories and colognes. 

It was one of his proudest works. 

Stepping into the room, he reaches for his camo uniform and starts changing into them. Then lastly he grabs his cap, slipping it onto his head before applying some cologne. He applied his favorite one today. It was a middle eastern oil based Oud cologne gifted to him by a friend from Dubai. He had to be careful with this one, he learned the hard way the first time he applied it that just a little drop went a long way. His friend laughed at him when he told him of his mishap. 

He uncapped the bottle, and a wave of deep woodiness unfurled into the air. The oud was rich and earthy, like aged timber soaked in resin. He pulled the cap up and gently pressed the wand against his wrist, making sure to only apply just a small line on his wrist because if he applied just a bit too much, the smell would be overbearing to all those around him. He then placed the wand back into the small glass bottle then rubbed his wrists together before rubbing them against his pulse points behind his ears. 

Before leaving his apartment he grabs a protein shake from the fridge and takes the elevator down to the parking garage, finding his car.

He hops into his 2023 metallic gray BMW M3. It wasn’t his dream car, but it was still on his list of cars he'd love to own someday. He worked his ass off for this car, so he treasured it. So much so that he never let a single soul get behind the wheel for a test drive. 

He starts up the engine and grabs the wheel, driving out the garage heading towards base to get his day started. 

When he arrived at base he grinned proudly to see some soldiers already started on their morning run. Normally he liked to run on his own, but he wanted to encourage the fresh faces on base. Although some called it torture because he liked to make them run extra laps. But tomato tomahto, right? 

He starts jogging making his way towards them to join them, he comes to their side falling into stride with them. 

“Good morning, Soldiers!” he shouted, his deep voice carrying naturally over the courtyard.

“Good morning, Staff Sergeant Song!” The recruits barked back in unison, their voices sharp but not quite matching his power. 

A wide grin spread on his cheeks, “hope you guys don't mind that I joined your run this morning?” he was sure they were all cursing internally. 

“No, Sir!” The soldier in lead responded. 

“Good, because I'd like some company, hope you guys can catch up.” 

And so the torture starts. 

Usually the soldiers would run around five or six laps around the track before calling it. But with Staff Sergeant Song in stride beside them, the number always seemed to creep higher.

He didn’t shout or bark like a drill instructor, he didn’t need to. His presence alone kept them on edge, his long strides setting a pace just quick enough to have them struggle a little to match pace.

By the seventh lap, some of the recruits were already groaning under their breath. Mingi only grinned wider. “What’s wrong? Thought you said you didn’t mind me joining.”

“Yes, Staff Sergeant!” they chorused back, voices tight with effort.

“Good,” he said, settling back into rhythm as if the run had just begun. “Then keep up.”

And so, as always, their five laps turned into ten.

Soon he spotted his friend, another Staff Sergeant, who also happened to be the NCO of this group of new recruits platoon. 

“Good work soldiers! Keep this up tomorrow as well, I'll leave you to it.” He waves them off and runs towards his friend standing at the sideline. The soldiers behind them all caught their breath, bent over, holding onto their knees while others sat on the ground. 

“You gotta stop messing with my soldiers, Mingi,” Mingi chuckled, dapping up his friend, bumping shoulders. 

“What do you mean? I'm encouraging them, helping them push themselves y'know? They're gonna have great stamina because of me.” The shorter man rolled his eyes then shouted to the soldiers.

“Alright, soldiers, you're free to go! Breakfast in 20!” The soldiers all began running past the two men. 

“Since you like them so much, you can have them,” the man snickered. 

“No thanks, San, you can keep your kids, I'm not ready to be a father,” San rolled his eyes and the two began making their way to the cafeteria. 

Once San and Mingi had their breakfast together and got caught up, the two went back to work taking care of their duties. 

The day started off with a briefing followed by Mingi checking in on his subordinates and making sure things are running smoothly and the way they’re supposed to. He eventually reports his findings to the higher ups before finally checking into the military lab, getting straight to work on his assigned project with his team. Some of the staff in the lab were military personnel, while others were civilians. Mingi was the lead of a team of interns from different big name universities who were picked carefully following strict standards.

He was proud of his team. He was lucky to have a team of smart, hard working individuals. He saw a lot of potential in them. One girl in particular, a girl named Areum, caught his attention though. She was the first in the team to arrive and last to leave. Some days it seemed like she was there out of pure passion and intrigue, other days it just seemed like it was for distraction, an escape. 

He kept a close eye on her, mostly out of concern. He didn’t know why he was concerned, but something in him told him to watch out for her. Especially after he got a call from a friend a month after she had joined the team. 

It was his friend, Professor Jeong Yunho, who had called him. They’d first crossed paths in graduate school, when Yunho was already working as a teaching assistant, halfway out the door and well on his way toward becoming a professor. Mingi, still grinding through the final years of his own program, hadn’t expected much more than a passing acquaintance. But Yunho had a way of pulling people in, sharp, dependable, and supportive. Over time their connection solidified into a friendship that lasted long after school ended.

So when Yunho asked him for a personal favor, Mingi didn’t hesitate. The request was simple enough: keep an eye on her. Make sure she is doing alright. Push her when she needs it. Take care of her. Yunho didn’t elaborate much, only mentioning that she’d been through a lot recently and sometimes drifted into herself. Nothing more, nothing less.

Mingi respected that. He wasn’t one to pry into someone’s life uninvited. He preferred to let people open up to him when they were ready. Still, if someone looked like they were in trouble, he wasn’t the type to stand by and do nothing. He’d step in quietly, careful not to push too far but he would never let anyone slip too far on his watch, especially not when a friend like Yunho had asked him to look after them.

Needless to say, he quietly watched over Areum. 

The rest of his day went smoothly. After lunch, he finished a stack of reports, then headed back to the lab to wrap up a few tasks. Later, he sat through a meeting with the other staff sergeants and several higher-ups. Once it concluded, the sergeants filtered out together, deciding to grab dinner off base.

Halfway to the parking lot, Mingi patted his pockets and realized his wallet was still in the office. With a quick apology, he waved them on. “I’ll catch up,” he called, jogging back toward the lab.

Inside, the building was quiet. He slipped into the office, found his wallet on the desk, and tucked it into his back pocket before heading out again. But just as he passed the lab corridor, he stopped. A faint glow spilled from beneath the door. He could’ve sworn the lights had been off earlier.

Curious, he backtracked and pushed the door open.

Areum was inside, still bent over her workbench. Papers and glassware surrounded her in the sterile glow of the fluorescents. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught her like this, staying long after hours, working alone.

He watched her work for a moment, a smile creeping on his face. She didn’t look tired this time, she actually looked like she was having fun, discovering something new. Although he didn’t want to ruin it for her, he had to. It was getting late. 

He knocks softly on the door to get her attention, trying not to startle her. 

“Areum.”

Her head snapped up, eyes wide. “Sergeant Song! I didn’t know you were still around…”

Mingi raised a brow. It had been months since she joined the team, and despite him telling her more than once that she didn’t need to call him Sergeant, she still did. Eventually, he let it go.

“It’s late. You should be heading home.” He checked his watch, it was nearly 8 p.m. “Don’t you have a bus or train to catch?”

Her shoulders dropped, lips pressing into a pout. But it was her eyes that caught him off guard, the way the light of excitement turned into disappointment. The sight hit him like a blow to the chest, leaving him suddenly unsure if he’d said the wrong thing.

“Oh… yeah, you’re right, I guess. I’ll pack up and head out.” She turned back to her desk, the pout still lingering as she began to tidy up.

“I can give you a ride, if you need. I’m not sure when the next bus comes around,” he offered quietly.

She shook her head. “It’s alright, I should still be able to catch the next one. Thank you, though, I appreciate it.” She gave him a small smile before returning to cleaning up.

He lingered in the doorway for a moment.

“I’ll see you later, then. Be careful getting home.” With that, he turned and stepped out, leaving her to the glow of the lab. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Areum stood at one of the workstations, carefully pipetting a reagent into the wells of a plate while her laptop displayed a spreadsheet of data she’d been logging since morning. Her eyes burned from the screen time and her hand was starting to cramp, but she was almost done.

A few feet away, Mingi was checking on the progress of the team, from person to person. He gave advice and guided each person as needed, answering what he could when they had questions. Eventually he made it to Areum.

“Your form’s solid,” Mingi said quietly, nodding toward her precise handling of the pipette. She glances over to him for a quick moment. He was so close it got her a little flustered. Clearing her throat she forced a small smile in response before bringing her attention back to what she was doing. 

He could feel her energy practically glooming over her. It only took a small glance at her face to see that she was not in her element today. 

As she lifted the pipette toward the next row, he noticed she hadn’t changed the tip. His hand came up slightly in a subtle stop.

“New tip,” he reminded her, voice low but firm.

Her hand froze midair. She blinked, realizing her mistake, and quickly swapped it out. “Right… thanks,” she murmured.

Mingi gave a small nod, but his eyes lingered on her for a beat longer. Her technique was fine, but not so much the look in her eyes.

“You been getting enough rest?”

Areum was about to reply before getting interrupted by the buzzing of her phone sitting in her jean pocket. She pulls the phone out and glances at the screen. Mingi notices her shoulders slumping down, concern in her expression.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the pipette before she set it down quickly, taking her gloves off.

“I need to take this,” she muttered, already stepping toward the hallway.

Mingi watched her go feeling the tension in the air.

After some time he realizes Areum still hasn't come back. He excuses himself from the team to go check on her, stepping out to the hall. 

There he sees her whisper yelling into the phone. 

“Stop ignoring my calls and pick up, Jongho! You cannot keep skipping out on your classes like this, for gods sake at least answer my text messages.” She hung up the phone with a groan followed by a heavy sigh. She leans back against the wall, brushing her bangs back. 

“Is everything okay?” Areum looks up, relaxing when she sees Mingi. 

“Yes…no? I don't know…”

“I’m all ears if you want to talk about it.” Mingi leaned against the wall beside her, leaving just enough space so she wouldn’t feel crowded.

Areum dropped her gaze to her shoes, chewing on her bottom lip. She hesitated before finally speaking. “My brother… he’s skipping classes again, and he won’t answer his phone.” She flicked her eyes to the screen in her hand, as if hoping a message might suddenly appear, though she already knew it wouldn’t.

“Do you need to leave early? I’ll let the manager know, he’ll understand.”

She shook her head and pushed herself off the wall. “No. No point in that. I’ll just talk to him when I get home.”

She started toward the lab again, and Mingi fell into step beside her. “You’re not worried?”

“Very worried,” she admitted, her voice low. “But this isn’t the first time. He always comes home eventually.”

Mingi didn’t press. He just nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Ah, a troublemaker, huh? Reminds me of myself when I was in high school.” He gazes into the distance dramatically as if he was reminiscing. 

Areum giggled softly, and the two of them slipped back into their work. Still, throughout the rest of the shift, Mingi’s eyes kept flicking toward her in quiet concern. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

01:18 A.M 

Areum stared at the time on her phone, fingers turning white from how tight she was gripping onto it, a thumb sitting between her lips as she bit down on her nail. She had one leg up on the sofa while the other was hanging off of it, bouncing uncontrollably.

Her eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the minute. She had been fighting off sleep for the past three hours. She needed sleep, her body was begging for it. 

But how could she? Not with her heart racing, not when she didn’t know where her brother was. 

Despite her calling and leaving messages he never replied once.  

It's not like any of this was new with him. He almost never did call back. He came home late pretty often as well. But despite all this being the usual, Areum can't help but worry. She couldn't help her anxiety as she wondered where he could be, if he was safe, and if she would see him again when she woke up. 

Closing her eyes, she let out a long sigh, thinking about what she could say to him. 

As she was beginning to drift off to sleep, she was immediately woken up by the sound of the front door opening.

She jumped off the sofa and moved to the doorway, fists clenched at her sides.

Jongho frowned when he saw his sister waiting there. She didn’t say a word until he finished slipping off his shoes.

As soon as he stepped inside, she planted herself in front of him. He tried to sidestep, but she blocked his path.

“Move.”

“No. We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to talk about.” He shifted again, and again she blocked him.

“Well, I do.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. What?”

“Where have you been?”

He stayed silent.

Her voice wavered, softer now. “You know what? Fine. Don’t tell me. But the least you could do is text me… just let me know you’re okay. Let me know when you’re coming home.” The words caught in her throat, more a plea than a demand. 

“I don’t have to do anything. Now get out of the way.”

“Do you understand how anxious I get when I don’t know where you are? Or if you’re even safe?”

“I don’t care.”

Her hands trembled at her sides, but her voice only grew firmer. “I’ve been trying to go easy on you, Jongho, I've been trying not to push, trying not to pressure you. But that was a mistake on my part.” She drew in a shaky breath. “From now on, there are rules. You need to be home by ten p.m. even on the weekends. And if you’re going to be late, you tell me.”

“What are you—” Jongho started, but she cut him off.

“And from now on you reply to me. You don’t want to talk on the phone, fine. But you answer my texts. Every time.”

He stood frozen, bewilderment flickering in his eyes as he searched hers to see if she was being serious. His fists clenched, irritation building.

He didn’t want to be controlled. Who was she to tell him what to do? This was his life, his choice. What right did she have to dictate it?

“The fuck I am. You don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. Now get out of my damn way.” He shoved past her, and she stumbled back, the words cutting deeper than the push. He had never spoken to her like that before. Ever.

He stormed to his room, and she followed, refusing to give in.

The door slammed, the lock clicking into place.

“Choi Jongho!” she shouted, her fist hammering against the wood.

Her voice cracked, softer now despite the words. “I’m serious, Jongho. You only get a couple of chances. After that… after that, you start losing privileges, like your allowance and your computer.” She pressed her forehead to the door, her tone unsteady. 

There was no response. Just silence. 

She didn't realize she was holding her breath until it came out in a long sigh. Stepping away from his door, her shoulders drop. She makes her way to her room, climbs into her bed and hides under her covers curling into herself.

What the fuck am I supposed to do?

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

[norixseaweed]

Through the Storm: Chapter 1

Title: Through the Storm Rating: Mature (Some adult themes) Contains: Slow burn, PTSD, Trauma, Underaged drinking/smoking, some violence Characters: Mingi, Fem OC, Jongho, Yunho AU: Aged up Military!Mingi, Aged up Professor!Yunho, Aged down Teen!Jongho Masterlist | Ao3 | AFF | Wattpad Next Chapter Synopsis: Areum is a college student trying to keep her life together. Between school, her part-time job, and taking care of her younger brother, every day feels like a blur. She doesn’t have much time to think about herself or the things she’s been through. She just keeps moving forward. Then she meets Mingi, someone who somehow makes everything feel a little lighter. He’s easy to talk to, easy to be around, and before she realizes it, he starts becoming an important part of her days. Through him, Areum starts to find a bit of peace in the chaos, learning that maybe it’s okay to lean on someone else once in a while. But as she begins to rebuild her sense of peace, she soon realizes that some truths can’t stay buried forever and that her parents’ deaths might not be as simple as they seemed.

Please reblog if you enjoyed the fic! I will be greatful and it really helps get more readers than a like does ❤️

Slouched on the sofa in the living room with her legs kicked up on the coffee table, was a young girl playing on her phone.  

In the kitchen she could hear the sound of something metallic clinking against what she assumed was a pot. Her mother was in the kitchen, cooking dinner, while her father had kept her company, playfully teasing and flirting with her. He threw a few cheesy pickup lines at his wife, earning a loud groan from their daughter.

“Ew, Dad, get a room.”

Her father only laughed in response, and teased his daughter. The girl rolled her eyes before bringing her attention back to her game.

The scent of her mothers cooking soon made its way up her nostrils, making her stomach growl. She let out a small whine. 

But just as she was about to ask her mother when the food would be ready, everything suddenly went silent.

Not a single sound, not even the sound of her own breath could be heard. 

The smell was gone too. No sound. No smell. Nothing.

Like her senses had been stripped away.

And then all she could feel was a prickling sensation against her skin as she felt her body grow hotter and hotter. 

And then it hit her. Fire.

Her stomach dropped. 

She took in a deep breath and looked up from her phone. In the next instant, flames erupted across the kitchen, devouring everything in its path. The house was engulfed in fire, and her parents were screaming, their voices raw with pain as they called for her.

She ran toward them, dropping the hand held console, tears streaming down her face, screaming as she called out for them. She reached out for her mother, but the moment her hand made contact, her mother crumbled into ashes, scattering around her. She then turned to reach for her father, he too dispersed into ash the second she touched him.

And just like that, they were gone.

Suddenly the room around her turned dark and empty. 

She was alone...

Areum jolted awake with a gasp.

Her body was drenched in a cold sweat, tank-top clinging to her skin, heart pounding violently in her chest as she felt a pit in her stomach. Her chest tightened, even though she was breathing she still felt like she was suffocating. 

Pushing herself to sit up, she forced herself to breathe, deep, slow and shaky as she counted down in her head. She repeated this action a few times until she could at least feel like she could breathe again.

She buried her face in her hands trying to calm the tremble in her fingers. It had been over a year, but the nightmares hadn’t stopped haunting her. It felt like every night she would get these dreams and she didn’t know how to stop them. She was afraid to go to sleep most nights and often found herself still awake by the time the sun began to rise. 

With a long heavy breath leaving her lips, she tossed off her blanket and dragged herself to the bathroom. 

She pulled her hair into a ponytail before grabbing her toothbrush, brushing her teeth then hopping into the shower to take a quick body shower. Her body moving on autopilot as she tried to shake off the dream. Once she finished drying up, she slipped into her grey gym shorts and white long-sleeve shirt before stepping out. 

As she stepped into the hallway, her younger brother brushed past her wordlessly disappearing into the bathroom.

“Morning, Jongho–”

The bathroom door slammed shut before she could finish. She stood still for a moment, lips pressed tightly together as she stared at the door, feeling her chest tighten. She didn’t know what to do for him, to get him to stop shutting her out, to be…normal again. Their relationship wasn’t always this strained. 

They used to be close, told each other almost everything. He used to look up to her and would always go to his older sister for advice. Jongho was protective of his older sister, never let anyone say a single bad word about her. And like any younger sibling he loved to bother her and tease her.

But now? Where did it all go? 

The little brother she adored and loved. The little brother who always smiled and laughed. The little brother who was always strong, brave and showed no fear. 

He was gone. Lost. Hiding deep down somewhere she can’t seem to reach. 

She let out a defeated sigh before making her way to the kitchen.

He wasn't going to stay for breakfast, he never really did anymore, so she made him a sandwich, setting it on the counter next to the lunch she had prepped for him the night before. She didn’t make anything for herself, her appetite gone because of the dream. 

Sitting at the dining table she pulls her laptop towards her, starting it up and diving straight into her assignments for a while.

“Your lunch is on the counter,” she called out, not looking up from her screen. She had noticed Jongho in the corner of her eyes entering the living room. 

He walked past her without a word or even a glance. He grabbed the lunch she had left for him on the counter and made his way straight to the front door, slipping into his shoes. When the front door closed behind him, silence swallowed the apartment once again. 

A silence she is still barely getting used to.

Finishing up her assignments and closing the laptop, Areum got up and made her way to her room, changing into blue jeans and a navy blue ‘Seoul National University’ hoodie. Once she was dressed she made her way to find her shoes in the cabinet by the front door. She tied her sneakers, grabbed her bag, and headed out for her class, slipping back into the routine that kept her life from unraveling completely. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The classroom was dimly lit, the projector casting a bluish hue across the front wall as the current slide glowed faintly against the pull-down screen. Shadows shifted across the room whenever Professor Jeong moved, his low voice echoing lightly off the tile floor and lab benches. The sound of the squeaky dry-erase markers filled the room as he annotated the board beside the screen, sketching diagrams in quick, confident strokes.

In the far back corner, Areum sat half-slouched in her seat, her cheek resting in the cradle of her hand. The pen in her fingers moved lazily over the edge of her notebook, leaving behind half-formed doodles in the margins. Her gaze flicked from the screen to her notes, then wandered again. She wasn’t zoning out entirely, Areum took her studies seriously. But this topic? 

She had already studied this in depth last year before life had unraveled. Before everything froze.

The lac operon was practically muscle memory to her now. She’d reviewed it again before classes began, anticipating her return after the year-long break she never asked for but had no choice but to take.

At the front of the room, Professor Jeong’s voice raised a bit to capture everyones attention.

“So, let’s talk about the lac operon. A classic. Now remember—gene expression isn’t just about flipping a switch on or off. It’s about the cell sensing the environment and responding intelligently. E. coli doesn’t waste energy producing enzymes for lactose metabolism unless—”

His eyes swept the room and landed squarely on her.

“Ms. Areum,” he said with a faintly smug smile, “I hope you’re not dreaming about glucose back there. Maybe you can tell us: under what conditions is the lac operon fully activated?”

There was a brief pause as heads turned toward the back of the room. Areum exhaled softly and sat up straighter, brushing her bangs out of her face as she met his gaze.

“Well, Professor Jeong,” she began confidently, “it’s fully activated when glucose is low and lactose is present,” She carried on, detailing the conditions for activation effortlessly.

She didn’t intend to sound smug, but her tone still carried a bit of itas she spoke. She didn’t break eye contact, knowing very well that he was right and he was trying to catchher off guard.

Professor Jeong’s smile deepened. He knew she’d get it right, he always did when he called on her like this. Challenging her was a habit he’d picked up last year, and she never failed to meet him right where he wanted her to. Everyone knew the two had a close relationship, nothing inappropriate, just a professor and a student who liked to challenge each other. She felt comfortable enough to open up to him and confide in him in the past, bringing them closer. Their relationship was akin to that of a mentor and mentee. He was there for to support her when her life had seemed to come to a stop. 

“...Well,” he said, dramatically thoughtful, “I guess someone’s been listening on a molecular level.”

Groans echoed across the room. A few students tossed him glares. Areum rolled her eyes as the class collectively cringed at the terrible joke.

Professor Jeong only laughed, proud of his joke, and dove back into his lecture.

By the time class ended, students were already half out the door before the final slide had even faded. Areum stood to gather her things, slipping her notebook into her bag and slinging it over one shoulder.

“Wait—Areum,” Professor Jeong called as she reached the front of the room, “can I have a moment?”

She paused and nodded, stepping off to the side as the last few stragglers filed out.

“I just wanted to check in,” he said, arms crossing loosely as he leaned back against the wooden podium. “How’s the internship going?”

Earlier in the semester Areum was accepted to a paid internship program with the military research lab. It's a program that was hard to get into but thanks to the recommendations of her professors, and a strong push from Professor Jeong, she was able to get in. If he hadn’t pushed her to apply for it she would have never had the opportunity. 

“It’s been going pretty well,” she said honestly, relaxing a bit. “I’m learning a lot, and I’ve been able to work on different kinds of projects.”

A soft, satisfied smile spread across his face. He was proud of her, he didn’t try to hide it. She’d been nervous when she came back to school, her confidence shaken after the sudden break. He saw it in the way she hesitated to speak up, the way she downplayed her knowledge. That was part of why he’d pushed her toward the internship, he knew it would remind her what she was capable of.

“Good. I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he said. “Can’t wait to see you on something even bigger one day… How’s your team lead treating you?”

“My team lead?” she blinked, tilting her head. “Staff Sergeant Mingi?”

Yunho raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You call him ‘Staff Sergeant’? You know you’re not enlisted, right?”

She scrunched her nose, visibly flustered. “Yeah, but everyone else does and it just… kinda sticks.”

“I guess that’s fair.” He chuckled under his breath.

“He’s been treating me well, though,” she went on. “Kinda strict, but in a good way. Keeps everything on track. Also makes stupid jokes—like you do, but… he’s funnier.” The last part was just her way of teasing him. 

Yunho scoffed. “Really? Mingi? You think Mingi is funnier than me?”

She caught on to how he addressed Mingi so casually, like he was familiar with the man. “You know him?” Yunho grinned, “Of course I do, I met him when he was completing grad school, I was still a TA but he came to me a lot to ask questions and get advice, we got close.” 

“Huh, never would have thought…” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yunho raised a brow, but before she could reply the alarm on her phone went off. She pulled her phone out of her pocket to turn the alarm off. 

“That’s my cue to go, I have to go to the lab today,” slipping the phone back into her pocket, she started making her way towards the door before being stopped again. 

“Wait–Areum…before you go, how are you doing?” 

She drew in a slow, measured breath.  

If she was being completely honest with herself, she didn’t know how to answer the question as she wasn’t completely sure how she’s been doing. She avoided her feelings whenever and however she could. 

“I think…I'm as good as I can be,” it was the best answer she could give him. It did hold some truth. 

“Good. You’ll let me know if you’re not, right?” She gave him a nod before waving goodbye as she left the room. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Sprawled on the cold hard concrete ground beneath him, he stared into the night sky, tuning out the sound of his friends being loud and rowdy, counting the stars he could make out despite the light pollution caused by the city lights. 

Bringing the cigarette to his lips, he took a long drag, holding the smoke until it burned in his chest, then exhaled slowly, a pale curtain drifting up to cloud his vision.

He pictures himself floating in space, wondering if he would be better off as some space rock floating aimlessly in the darkness with no purpose. But surely that rock still had more purpose than he did. He wondered if there was even a point in existing. He felt as if he was just a waste of space, had nothing going for him, nothing to live for. At least that rock floating in space had some benefit to someone or something out there. 

A sudden weight pressed down on him. His eyes dropped from the sky to the petite girl straddling his lap. She was cute, he couldn't deny that, if she wasn't so damn desperate for attention and whiny all the time, he might have considered entertaining her. But she had already been around his friend circle and he wasn't into fooling around with someone who gave themselves to people so easily. He especially wasn't into sharing and was never interested in being with anyone who's already been with his friends.

“Oppa~” she called in a high, deliberately whiny voice that grated against his ears. “Aren’t you bored just staring at the sky? Come play with me~” She pushed out a pout that made his insides tighten with secondhand embarrassment. He didn’t bother hiding it.

With a roll of his eyes, he stubbed the cigarette out on the ground beside him, then sat up and lifted her off his lap, setting her down on the ground beside him.

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

Another whine followed, drawn out and insistent, her pout deepening as if it might change his mind. 

He pushed himself to his feet and made his way to the edge of the rooftop, where his friends leaned against the ledge, a Bluetooth speaker spilling music into the night air. The city lights stretched out beneath them.

“Yo! Jongho, had enough of the sky already?” Jungmin called, lifting a can of beer toward him in greeting. Jungmin lived in one of the apartments below and always dragged everyone up here to hang out. Nobody ever came to bother them, which made it easy for him to sneak drinks and turn the rooftop into their own private party. 

Jongho took the can, popped it open, and drank deeply, letting the cold liquid wash over him as the city hummed below.

Shaking his head, he finally muttered, “Nah, the pick-me ruined it for me. How many times do I gotta push her away before she gets it in her head that I’m not interested?”

His other friend, Seunghyun, patted his shoulder.

“Honestly, you’re not missing out on anything. She’s pretty boring in bed—just lays there. Would’ve had a better time with a sex doll.”

Jongho shot him a glare. He wasn’t one to talk about his own sex life, let alone listen to someone else’s, and he definitely didn’t like it when people aired a girl’s business out so openly. He couldn’t stand the way some people thrived on constant validation, always performing for attention. Sometimes he questioned his choice of friends. But they still respected him, still gave him space when he needed it. They never questioned him or bothered him. 

“I didn’t ask for details, my guy,” he said, flatly, shutting him up. 

He took another sip of his beer, leaning against the rough concrete ledge, arms resting on its cool, slightly gritty surface as he swirled the liquid in the can.

His eyes roamed over the city. Cars rushing by, people walking past the building, families returning from dinner with their kids. The sound of cars passing by mixed with the distant voices and the faint clink of glasses from the apartments below. Everyone moved with reason, with purpose. 

And once again, he wondered.

What is my purpose anymore? 

What was it before?

Did I ever even have a purpose? 

What is the point?

He let out a heavy sigh, finishing his beer and reaching for another. The cold aluminum of the next can pressed against his palm. Alcohol was the only way he could keep these thoughts at bay now. It was the only escape.

Jongho’s eyes then landed on an unfamiliar face as he stood up straight. He was sitting alone on a bench by the community garden the residents tended, caught in the dim halo of a nearby lamp. His features were sharp yet delicate, he was beautiful. But it wasn’t his beauty that stood out, it was the distance in his expression. His dark eyes wandered without focus, like he’d rather be anywhere else.

His long hair was tied back into a loose ponytail, though stray strands slipped free and brushed against his face, unbothered by the movement. He leaned slightly forward, not relaxed but resigned and restless, as if he was waiting to get out of there.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Jungmin followed Jongho’s gaze, squinting for a moment before realizing who he meant.

“Oh, that’s Yeonjoo’s twin brother. She brought him along tonight hoping he’d loosen up a bit. Don’t remember his name though.”

Jongho gave a soft hum in reply.

“He’s been sitting alone for a while now. Doesn’t seem like much of a talker,” Jungmin added with a shrug.

Just then, the girl from earlier made her way over to the boy.

“Looks like she’s found new prey for the night,” Seunghyun muttered with a cringe. “Guess she’s into pretty boys too, huh?”

The three of them watched as she latched onto his arm, nuzzling up close. The discomfort on his face was obvious. He tried leaning away, but she only pressed herself tighter against him, chest pressing into his arm.

Jongho couldn’t just stand there any longer. He pushed off from the ledge and crossed the rooftop.

“Minah,” he called in a firm tone, “let the poor guy go. He’s not interested.”

She let out a dramatic huff. “Are you jealous or something? If you want me just say so.” 

Jongho reached out and gently tugged her away by the arm.

“Far from it. Look—he’s clearly uncomfortable, and you’re not seeing that. Learn some boundaries, Minah. Pick up on a few social cues while you’re at it.”

He pulled her to her feet and gave a light push to set her walking.

“I think it’s time you went home. You’ve had too much to drink.”

Another huff, arms crossed, and she stomped away without looking back.

He watched as she walked away before bringing his attention to the other male. He settled beside him on the bench, leaving some space between them. 

“You alright? She’s kind of a stubborn one,” Jongho held the beer can up in offering towards the other. 

“I’m okay,” he responds, raising his hand in refusal to the offer “I don’t drink.” 

“Fair enough,” Jongho sips from the can himself, “heard your sister dragged you here, don’t think I’ve seen you before.” 

“Really? ‘Cause I’ve seen you around often at school.” 

Jongho takes another look at him, trying to recall if he recognizes him.

“What’s your name?”

“Yeosang.”

“I’m J–”

“Jongho, I know,” Jongho sat up straight. How did he know his name? He’s never met him before tonight, maybe his sister told him about him and his friends. “Did your sister tell you?”

Yeosang shook his head, leaning back in his spot, gripping onto the bench, “You used to be my rival, you always got second place in the school rankings while I was always in third, I worked hard to try to take your spot and beat you,” Yeosang searched Jongho’s eyes as if he was looking for something, an answer maybe. 

“Then one day I finally got your spot, I was happy,” the air suddenly felt more chilly around Jongho, he couldn’t help but shiver a little “but when I saw your ranking, you took a huge drop down the list…I wasn’t proud about my achievement anymore when I saw that.” 

Jongho looked down at the beer can in his hands. He felt his guts twisting inside him. 

There was a short silence between them. Yeosang tilted his head back, hair falling from his face as he closed his eyes and drew in a slow breath. The sharp mix of beer, cigarettes, and weed filled his nose, and his expression tightened with distaste. He opened his eyes again.

“It’s not fun challenging someone who’s no longer fighting. I don’t know what happened, but whatever it is, I hope you get your fight back soon…” 

Jongho stayed silent, he suddenly felt like he was suffocating. He didn’t know how to respond to him. He wasn’t saying anything wrong yet he hated him for saying anything. It felt like he had just gotten stabbed with reality when he was trying to forget. Who did this guy think he was? He was not about to let him chip away at the wall he’s built for himself. 

“I’m going to head home, this isn’t my kind of scene, it was nice to finally meet my rival though.” 

He didn’t look up. His eyes stayed locked on his beer as Yeosang walked away. 

He chugged down the rest of his beer then crushed it in his fist before tossing it to the ground. He was going to need a few more drinks.

Next Chapter

[aerixfixoff]

My Cherry Cola

𖤐・Pairing: Mingi x Reader

𖤐・Genre: Retro Romance · Slow Burn · Flirty Banter · Slice of Life · Coming-of-Age

𖤐・Warnings: Mild language, heatwave thirst, dangerously smooth boys, flirtation with intent

𖤐・Status: Re continued

𖤐・Word Count: ~2.4K ish

𖤐・Summary: 1985 A busted van, a broken payphone, and one cherry cola later you meet Mingi. He’s chaotic in the kind of way you weren’t looking for, but might just follow anyway. From arcade nights to barefoot summers, something’s stirring. Maybe it’s the heat. Maybe it’s him. Or maybe… you’ve got a little more to lose than just a soda quiz.

𖤐・A/N: I’m seeing ateez today guys !!

It’s the summer of 1985, the radio is blasting and your mom’s Dodger Caravan is stuck in the middle of the road on your way to your aunt’s. “Y/n, come help me start this baby up again,” she said as she cleaned sweat off her forehead.

“Just give me a second,” you shouted.

Tried starting it up a couple of times with zero luck.

“No luck, kiddo. See if you can find someone or maybe a payphone around.”

You sighed, blocking the hot sun’s gaze upon you. It was supposed to be at least ninety-something today. You groaned, kicking the gravel beneath your feet. You made your way to the gas station, looking for a phone or someone to help.

“Hey, kiddo, are you lost?” You turned around to the voice coming from behind you. You saw an older man leaning against the doorway of the station, wiping his greasy hands on his oil-stained pants.

You shook your head, squinting against the sun’s blazing rays. “Nah, just stranded. Our van is dead a couple miles down.”

He whistled. “You try a phone?”

You pointed to a cracked payphone on the side of the building. He sighed and walked past you, motioning you to follow him.

“Well, you’re welcome to wait inside. I’ve got a fan and a cooler that works.”

“Where’s the van?” he said. You pointed.

He sighed, grabbing his keys from behind the counter.

“Alright, I’ll go see what I can do. Might be able to jump it or tow it if the engine isn’t fried.”

Before you could respond, he was out the door, disappearing into the heat with a toolbox and a grunt of annoyance. You stepped into the station, letting the screen door creak shut. The air was thick and stale, a faint buzzing of a fan doing little to fight the heat off.

That’s when you saw him.

A guy stood at the far end near the drink cooler, crouched low, examining the cherry cola as if it was telling him the secrets of the universe. At first, he just looked like another bored teenager killing time. Head tilted like he couldn’t decide. His hair was tousled dark brown with wire-rimmed glasses slipping down his nose. He wore a lazy kind of smile that said he didn’t take everything seriously (including you).

A white tee layered over a soft beige hoodie. Both slightly oversized, like comfort mattered more than fashion, though somehow he made it look cool. The hoodie hung open just enough to show a chunky beaded necklace resting against his collarbone. He paired it with straight-leg jeans cuffed at the ankles, matching the scuffed white sneakers that’d survived more than a few late-night arcade runs.

“Are you an Original Coke fan or Cherry one?” he asked, his voice low and casual while standing up, acting like it was the most normal thing to ask a stranger in the heat wave.

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden comment.

“Excuse me?”

He tilted the cherry-flavored Coke towards you. “It’s a defining question. Choose wisely.”

You raised a brow, not moving. “And if I say root beer?”

He let out a deep but comforting laugh, the one that makes your stomach do flips.

“Then you might be more dangerous than I thought.”

You didn’t smile. Instead, you moved past him, grabbing a soda from the cooler and cracking the opening with a loud but sharp hiss.

“Thanks for the quiz,” you said, taking a sip without looking at him.

He blinked, clearly amused, then chuckled.

“Are you always this friendly to guys offering you cold drinks in a heat wave?”

You turned slightly, leaning against the cooler now.

“You always this smooth with stranded girls sweating through their T-shirts?”

“Only the ones who glare at me like they’re five seconds from kicking my shins.”

That almost got you. Almost.

He reached for a second soda, casually popping the cap.

“So, road trip with a funky engine?”

You shrugged, eyes scanning the dusty racks of the candy near the register.

“Going to my aunt’s. Mom’s van gave up halfway there.”

He nodded like he knew already.

“You looked like someone who didn’t want to be wherever they were headed.”

You glanced at him, finally meeting his eyes.

“And you look like someone who pretends not to notice people but actually watches everything.”

That caught him off guard for a second, then he flashed a boyish grin toward you.

“Touche. Name’s Mingi, by the way.”

You didn’t offer yours. He noticed, but yet decided not to push you on it.

Before you could decide if you liked the way he was looking at you, the screen door creaked open again. The heat came in first, then the mechanic, muttering something about ‘rusted cables’ and ‘duct tape miracles.’

“Alright, kiddo, might be able to jump it. Van’s old, but she’s still got some bite.”

You nodded, tossing the soda bottle in the bin. “Thanks.”

Mingi shifted, stepping back a little, the grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“This your ride-or-die moment?” he asked under his breath.

You looked at him sideways.

“It’s my get-my-mom-off-the-side-of-the-road moment.”

The mechanic didn’t notice the exchange, or he pretended not to.

“You coming?” he asked.

You started towards the door but paused just long enough to say,

“Thanks for the quiz.”

Mingi held your gaze.

“You never answered.”

You gave him the smallest shrug.

“Guess you’ll keep wondering.” Then you were gone, screen door slamming shut. The fan still buzzing, soda still sweating on the counter.

And Mingi watching you like he wasn’t done with you yet.

A couple of days passed in a slow haze of the Southern heat, lazy mornings and pure chaos in your aunt’s household. You hadn’t seen Mingi since that day in the gas station, but somehow he kept popping into your mind. Like a song you’ve heard once but couldn’t stop humming.

It’s late afternoon when your little cousin tugs on your wrist, begging you to take him to the park. You slipped on your sneakers and grabbed a Capri Sun for the walk. You weren’t expecting anything more than a sweaty hour on a splintered bench. You were scanning the benches when you saw him.

Mingi.

He was by the jungle gym, crouched down tying the laces of a little girl’s shoes. His hair was a mess, the kind that looked like it had a permanent breeze running through it. He stood up, looked around, and that’s when his gaze fell in your direction. His face lit up like someone told him Back to the Future was getting a sequel.

For a second, you pretended like you guys didn’t just make groundbreaking eye contact with each other, so you let your cousin tug you towards the swings, pretending like Mingi was just another background character in your summer return.

His sister had run off to the sandbox, and you went to glare at—

But instead met with surprise to see that he was already staring at you, sipping on cherry Coke like it was a direct love letter. When he noticed your gaze on him, he flashed the same grin—half trouble, half invitation. You didn’t return it.

Mingi had started walking over towards you. You could feel it before you even saw it.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, voice low and familiar.

You looked up briefly, then back at the swing.

“Small town. Bigger chance than you think.”

He snorted. “You’re tough.”

“And you talk too much,” you said, still not looking at him.

He rocked back and forth on his heels, pretending to be wounded.

“You always mean this to guys who offer you free soda and existential beverage quizzes?”

You finally met his gaze, sunglasses slipping down to the bridge of your nose.

“Only the ones who think that makes them special.”

He stared at you, dumbfounded. That shut him up for a good minute or two.

“So what are you doing later?” he asked casually.

You raised an eyebrow. “Depends.”

“On?”

“If arcades still exist,” you said coolly, letting your cousin’s laughter fill up the big space between you.

Mingi’s smile widened. “Well, good thing they do.”

The arcade looked like it hadn’t been renovated since ‘78, neon lights buzzing overhead. A wall of claw machines that hadn’t let go of a single thing since Nixon left office, and the smell of popcorn and burnt circuitry hanging in the air.

Mingi held the door open with his shoulder, glancing back at you with that same grin.

“Ever played Street Racer?”

“Yeah, once. I crashed in the first ten seconds.”

He chuckled. “So you’re saying I have a chance now?”

You smirked, pushing past him.

“In your dreams, gas station boy.”

Inside, it was chaos—but like in the best way. Kids darted between machines, a group of teens huddled together around the Pac-Man console, and someone’s little brother was dancing like a maniac to Footloose playing from a jukebox that was shoved into the depths of a corner.

Mingi led the way like he was Prince Charming, sliding a handful of tokens into your palm.

“For luck,” he said, his fingers lingering a bit too long in your hand.

You let the coins clink into your jacket pocket.

“You trying to buy my affection?”

“Is it working?”

“No.”

In the first game of air hockey, you beat him twice. Mostly because he spent his time trying to make you laugh (and succeeding) instead of trying to defend his goal.

“You’re cheating,” he said, wiping his sweat off his forehead with his sleeve.

You leaned on the table. “How? With charm?”

“With distraction tactics,” he muttered, watching you twirl the mallet in your hand like a weapon.

One he wanted to get hit with.

Next game was Dance Mania, a two-player rhythm game with lights that blinked out of sync and pads that barely kept up. Two songs in and he was flailing like a dad at prom, nearly tripping over himself during Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go. You doubled over laughing like a maniac—over your stomach and everything.

“You look like you’re being electrocuted.”

He grinned, barely having any more oxygen to spare.

“If I die, at least it’s in the name of love. Or WHAM!”

You pulled him off the machine before he could break his ankle.

At some point, the flirty banter went down just a bit. You both wandered toward the corner booth, sipping on slushies that turned your tongues bright red and blue. A flickering CRT TV overhead played The Breakfast Club on loop with no sound.

“Okay,” he said, his tone serious while tapping his straw against yours like a toast.

“Serious question.”

You arched a brow. “Uh-oh.”

“If you had to be stuck in one video game forever, what would it be?”

You took a long sip.

“Easy. Frogger.”

He blinked again, dumbfounded.

“Frogger…?” he muttered with uncertainty.

“Yeah, constant near-death experiences, dodge everything. Sounds familiar.”

He laughed, leaning in a bit. “Remind me never to cross a street near you.”

You rolled your eyes, but your mouth betrayed you smiling just enough to make him lean back like he’d just won a round.

You didn’t kiss him that night. But when you walked into the warm night air, he reached for your hand. For the minute he held your hand, you felt warmth explode everywhere around your body.

You let him take your hand.

And just for a minute

Just long enough to know it wouldn’t be the last time.

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