Minniebbang - Night Journal - Tumblr Blog
A Mother's Cry from Gaza: From the Heart of Fear and Suffering😞🍉
Hello, I am Inas, a mother of five children from Gaza. We fled our home with nothing—no clothes, no safety—escaping the tanks in front of us. My husband was hit by a bomb, and now he lies wounded, needing surgery to remove the shrapnel that threatens his life.
My son Musab had just finished high school before the war, dreaming of entering engineering, but fate has forced him to search for food for us among the ruins. My younger children, who were once dedicated to their studies, now carry water that is heavier than they are, just to survive.
My little daughter Rimas fell ill due to malnutrition and spent time in the hospital. I lost my father in this cursed war, and I have become the sole provider for my children. I would never ask for help if it weren’t for the overwhelming fear I have for my children, a mother desperate to bring them to safety, but I have no means to do so.
My children are terrified to leave the tent. Every time they remember passing in front of tanks and fires, fear grips them. Our home, which took me years to build, is now completely destroyed.
Today, I reach out to you with a broken heart, pleading for help from anyone who can assist us. We need support to cover my husband’s surgery, provide food and treatment for my children. Every donation, no matter how small, can make a huge difference in our lives. This is not just financial aid; it's a chance to restore hope to a family shattered by war.
Please donate to save my family and give my children the chance for a safe life and a better future.🙏
Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #124 )
But now, in a tent and an unclean life, we are cheating and dying
Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #124 )
#Gaza
#SupportHumanity
#StandWithGaza
#EmergencySupport
#charity#HelpGaza
#SaveLives
#UrgentAid
#donations
#CrisisRelief
#HumanRights
#SupportAndDonate
#medical_aid
#humanitarian_aid
🚨 Help Us Escape the Devastation of War 🚨
Hello, everyone.
My name is Mohammed Abu Swierh, and I’m writing to you from Al-Nuseirat, Gaza, where my family and I face unimaginable hardships. My wife and I are raising our three beautiful children: Mira (6 years), Bakr (3 years), and Maria (1 year). But our once peaceful lives have been shattered by the relentless conflict that has plagued Gaza for about a year. 💔
Our home, which once held so many dreams, is now damaged beyond recognition. Every day, our children live in fear, surrounded by destruction, without the safe place for our children to grow up. The war has stripped them of the freedom and childhood they deserve. Instead, they are growing up in a world filled with fear, uncertainty, and despair. 😔
After many sleepless nights and countless prayers, we’ve come to the heartbreaking decision that we must leave Gaza. We are hoping to build a safer, better future for our children, a future free from war and filled with hope.
But we can’t do it alone. Here’s where you can make a life-changing difference for our family:
$20,000: To cover the expenses of leaving and rebuilding our lives in a safe country.
$39,000: For a year’s worth of rebuilding our life, housing, food, and essential living costs as we adjust.
$1,000: To cover transaction and fundraising fees.
We humbly ask for your help. No contribution is too small, and every dollar brings us closer to giving our children the chance to grow up in peace. This is more than just a financial plea, it’s a call to save a family from the grips of war. 🙏
Your generosity can be the light that leads us out of this darkness. Please consider donating and sharing our story with those who may want to help. ❤️
Hehe thank you for tagging me <3
My most aura loss moment: when I accidentally spit out the water I was drinking when I heard my teacher's joke. Some of my classmates witnessed it 😔 (I learn my lesson though)
My most aura gain moment: probably when my hockey team had a chance to go to a national tournament
Reblog and share your most aura loss/gain moments
[and tag your mooties]
There is no childhood in Gaza 💔
At this time, children are usually on summer vacation, playing in the streets and going to the beach to swim. But this does not happen in Gaza. The occupation kills children in cold blood in front of their families because they demand their right to play like other children in the world. What injustice? You are my last hope. Our children want to go to school and live in peace and security
How can you help our children? This is done by donating, publishing the campaign, sharing it with friends, and reblogging. Thanks for helping us
@sayruq @schoolhater @butchniqabi @politijohn @loonarmuunar @qattdraws @turtletoria @tododeku-or-bust @unfortunatelyuncreative @piratekenway
@khanger @vilonnie @butchniqabi
.
Please do not pass by. Stop, watch and spread out.
i need help. If you don't have a donation, share it with your friends.
We are in Gaza. Our situation is catastrophic. We no longer have a home or a source of livelihood. . Please help me spread the donation campaign..
After October 7, we were turned upside down, deprived of our security, our home, and everything, yet we continue our quest to achieve everything for our children. . We have been subjected to genocide several times, and we survived thanks to God,
and currently we move from one place to another like homeless people who have nothing. I ask for your help and generosity to help me get to safety and out of Gaza, in order to build our lives
A donation of as little as five dollars is sufficient. Don't ignore the newness of your teams
Help me protect my children and give our family hope for brighter days.
My baby Helena, born on October 7, 2020, needs you to stand by her. Donate now!
My son Orhan, who is five and a half years old, has been suffering from malnutrition since the beginning of the war. Due to the lack of adequate health care,
we are exposed to diseases much faster (such as stomach bacteria, skin fungi, and severe infections). Since the beginning of the war, I have been infected with stomach bacteria due to unhealthy eating, and I have not been able to receive treatment due to the high prices of medicines here.
It is not easy to ask for help, but I need financial support to complete my treatment and evacuate from the war in Gaza.
Thank you for standing by my side,
I sincerely hope you can sympathize with our dire situation and consider supporting us. Your generosity saves what remains of our souls. Please help me complete my treatment and save my family from war. Please donate and/or reblog
Donate here🙏😭
https://gofund.me/3d43240d
@misspiggyforvogueitalia @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @90-ghost @90-ghost @sar-soor @el-shab-hussein @mobydyke @nature @nabulsi @appsa @mobydyke @sleepyseaslug
chemical infatuation
genre. yandere au. patient!jisung x researcher!reader
desc. jisung takes part in a high-paying yet sketchy study with seemingly no risks, but the injection causes him to quickly grow obsessed with the daytime staff member assigned to his study.
warnings. needles. vomit. murder.
wc. 3.5k
“is it a bad time to tell you that i’m a little claustrophobic?” your patient, han jisung, nervously shifted in his seat, fiddling with the hem of his sweater.
“we have to keep you in this containment during our research.“
the containment room, with its dim lighting and cushioned walls, seemed to close in on him. the dimensions felt constricting, heightening the anxiety surging through his veins.
every inch of the space was under surveillance, every move to be meticulously scrutinized by the watchful eyes of researchers.
what a sketchy situation. but it was better than he had expected from a craigslist ad that he had chanced upon.
the snap of your rubber gloves pulled him away from his thoughts, “it isn’t too late to back out, we have a few more candidates willing to take your place.”
500 million won. that was enough for him to do anything.
“i’m fine. i’m ready.”
“alright then, pull your arm out of your sweater for me.”
“i have a tank top underneath.” the boy shuffled out of the sweater and placed it onto his lap.
“and as the paperwork says, you have no allergies, anaphylaxis, or any history of mental illness?”
“nope.”
he flinched as the cool alcohol pad met his bicep.
“the medication we are testing for you should not hurt you much as far as we are concerned,” you began prepping the needle and syringe, “the only side effects that we predict could be a minor headache for a couple of days. it is not dangerous.”
jisung closed his eyes as you squeezed his arm slightly, pushing the needle through his skin.
you gently placed the gauze onto his arm, “finished. how do you feel immediately?”
“normal. a little shaken up from nerves, but no problems. what do i do now?”
“you’ll be watched for a month. the only restrictions are that you aren’t allowed to leave this room or use any devices.”
the idea of isolation and confinement weighed a bit heavily on him, but he was determined to see it through.
you motion towards the mattress in the corner, “we will change your bedding twice throughout the month. let us know if you are uncomfortable with the temperature of the room, need extra bedding, or anything else.”
jisung nodded.
“let us know if you need to use the bathroom and we will temporarily disable the cameras for your privacy. but we will take urine samples if we deem it necessary.”
“and what about food?”
“you’ll be fed three meals per day, with two snacks.”
“thank you. that’s all i need to know,” he paused for a moment, “other than your name. what’s your name?”
“y/n l/n,” you gather your paperwork, “your personal belongings will be returned once we go through to make sure there is nothing that could alter our research.”
the door had closed and locked, leaving jisung alone in the room with just his thoughts to keep him company until his stuff was given back to him.
Beginning Notes
Han Jisung (Male)
23 years old, no known medical problems
Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.
Intramuscular, Upper Arm
Notes: Jisung feels nervous about receiving the injection. Administered at 16:38 with no noted side effects.
you watched the boy through the array of cameras placed strategically throughout the room as he lay on the mattress. his sweater was haphazardly discarded across the room, a seemingly small attempt to make himself more comfortable in the sterile, plain environment.
despite the initial nerves of a new medication, nothing had seemed to happen. at the fifteen-minute mark, you stepped away from the cameras for a moment— if there were to be a severe sudden reaction, it would have manifested by now, you reasoned.
throughout your shift, your attention continued to drift back to the screens displaying jisung’s every move. with each glance, you found him engaged in various activities—doodling, writing in a journal, or simply staring off into space, lost in thought.
nothing seemed to go wrong. perhaps this medication would be approved.
Overnight Notes
Han Jisung (Male)
23 years old, no known medical problems
Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.
Intramuscular, Upper Arm
Notes: Jisung ate all of dinner and requested night snacks. He had slept well. No side effects were recorded.
you press the bright red button, lowering your mouth to the microphone.
“how is everything down there? any side effects?”
“y/n? is that you speaking?”
“yes,” you were surprised that the boy had remembered your name, “what are your symptoms?”
“you should come into the room to speak with me. i’m lonely here.”
“i have to record your symptoms. i can’t come down there unless i know that you’re stable.”
the microphone had only barely picked up his sigh. “i’m normal.”
“any headaches? dizziness? dry throat?”
“nope. nothing. everything’s fine. just lonely.”
you sigh. he seemed normal. he was lying in bed, staring up at one of the cameras.
so it was fine, right?
you push open the door, greeted by the grinning patient on his mattress.
“you smell nice. what products do you use?”
what an odd conversation starter. “nothing special. just a lavender-scented body wash.”
he nods. “the overnight staff were fine, but i think that i prefer you. i can’t put my finger on it quite yet.”
was jisung naturally this blunt with his words? or was he flirting with you?
“what do you plan to do during your stay here?”
he leans back against the cushioned wall, “i compose songs for artists. i figured that it would be easy to get a lot of work done in here.”
“i see. is that your songwriting journal then?” you eye the small black book and pen next to him.
he takes the pen into his hand, “yup. it’s one of the few things that i brought here.”
“you’ll have to show me some of your work sometime throughout the month.”
“you can look at my work now,” he grins, clicking the pen, “my name is HAN. look me up.”
the name stays in your mind as you exit the room and lock the door. you find your way back to your seat at the cameras to supervise the man, pulling your lunch out of your back.
one hand holds a sandwich as the other browses through safari, looking at the songs that your patient had composed.
you hadn’t heard any of them, but perhaps it would be a good idea to look into the lyrics. it would give you things to talk about with him for the following month.
the rest of the shift was boring. you watched as he wrote in his notebook, ate his food, hummed to himself— nothing interesting.
the most intriguing thing that you experienced was the occasional ‘help!’ button being pressed, only for the man to announce that he needed to take a piss.
your misery was ended once your coworker entered the room, placing his keys and bag down on the table.
a sigh of relief left you, “thank god. it’s so boring.”
“thanks for the warning.”
Overnight Notes
Han Jisung (Male)
23 years old, no known medical problems
Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.
Intramuscular, Upper Arm
Notes: Jisung ate all of dinner and requested no night snack. Awoke at 01:00 and 03:00. Specified no reason for waking. Special request for morning staff: Deliver lavender-scented body wash.
your eyes stared down at the note with slightly widened eyes.
perhaps he had good intentions, perhaps your defenses were just too high. after all, he might just like the scent of lavender like you did.
“good morning. any headaches? dizziness? dry throat?”
“my arm is a little sore, and i’m a bit restless, but that is all.”
you record his answers— finally something to write down.
“i saw your request from last night. i’ll get a staff member to deliver your body wash. did you run out? i’m sure we gave you enough.”
“i still have some. i just wanted to try yours out.”
how strange.
“you’re coming down to see me today, right?”
“not today. i want to see if your symptoms worsen throughout the day. it’s best to be careful.”
you watch through the camera as he slumps back, visibly disappointed.
today, the boy had begun to act a little bit differently. every couple of minutes, he would stop his writing to look up at the camera.
you would hold eye contact with him for a few moments, even though he couldn’t see you before he would look back down again with a large grin that wasn’t on his face before.
soon, the bottle of body wash was delivered to his room.
“y/n! is that you?” he jumped out of bed as the lock clicked, only to be disappointed to see a man in a mask and gloves leave it right inside of the door.
he crept towards the bottle, snapping the lid off, holding it up to his nose, then inhaling deeply.
“it smells like you.”
you clenched your teeth, writing down the reactions.
walking over towards the center of the room, he peeled his t-shirt off his frame, then pulled down his sweatpants and boxers in one go.
you shrieked, slamming the buttons to disable the camera.
he was supposed to tell you when he needed privacy.
with shaky hands, you began to jot down his behaviors.
once ten minutes had passed, you turned the camera back on in hopes that he was decent again. this time, you had enabled the camera with caution, only to see that he was showering.
you disable it once again and decide that this would be a good time to have lunch.
the image of the naked man was etched into your mind as you tried to force the salad down your throat.
it was a good thirty minutes until you got the courage to turn the camera back on, sighing in relief as you saw him on his bed with sweatpants on once again.
jisung stared up at the ceiling with hooded eyes, chest rising and falling— you weren’t sure what was going through his mind.
you press the button. “everything alright in there?”
he perked up, “y/n, everything is just fine. i wish you were in here, though, instead of behind that stupid camera.”
you bite your lip uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond.
changing the subject would be best.
“lunch will be delivered soon.”
“good. i’m a bit hungry.”
you take your finger off of the button, sitting back in your seat, waiting for your shift to be over.
Overnight Notes
Han Jisung (Male)
23 years old, no known medical problems
Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.
Intramuscular, Upper Arm
Notes: Jisung ate most of dinner and requested no night snack. Had difficulty falling and staying asleep. Awoke many times to journal. Refused conversation about his symptoms.
“y/n? you’re here, right? right?”
you had only just opened the door to the surveillance room, met with his muffled voice through the speakers.
“y/n? y/n? baby? my beautiful doll?”
the nickname caught you off guard, breath caught in your throat.
before answering, you grabbed the pen off the desk to jot down the behavior. this was not normal.
he stared directly into the camera. “i know you’re here. i journaled the minutes until he would leave and you would replace him.”
your legs shook as you took a seat.
why were you so nervous? it wasn’t like you were in danger. the door was locked. his body language did not seem hostile.
but his eyes told a different story. they were dark, crazed, restless.
“doll? can you hear me? can you hear me?”
your voice stuttered, “what are your symptoms?”
“i missed your voice, y/n.”
“any headaches? dizziness? dry throat?”
“none,” jisung answered quickly, “so you can come down and see me, right?”
you lied through your teeth. “not today. we are still a bit worried about yesterday’s symptoms.”
“fuck!” his forehead hit against the wall.
you took your finger away from the button.
he balled his hand into a fist before hurling it towards the same wall.
jisung crumbles to the floor. “i can’t take it anymore.”
“are you alright? are you in pain? do you need help?” you grasp your pen with an unsteady hand, “tell me what’s going on. talk to me.”
“i need to see you again, i waited all night just for you to tell me no.”
“it’s for the safety of you and myself.”
his voice was barely above a raspy whisper, “i promise i won’t hurt you, i’d never hurt you. i couldn’t hurt you.”
“jisung,” you started sternly, “i’m unable to see you. please abide by the rules of the study.”
“can’t i quit?”
“you signed a form stating that unless there is a medical emergency, you aren’t to leave this room. i’m quite not sure that you’re in your right state of mind right now.”
“i would be fine if you’d let me see you again.”
it was pointless to argue with the man, so you let go of the button, jotting down the conversation.
jisung did not eat, speak, or move from his spot that day.
Overnight Notes
Han Jisung (Male)
23 years old, no known medical problems
Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.
Intramuscular, Upper Arm
Notes: Jisung ate no dinner and requested no night snack. Did not sleep through the night. Refused conversation.
“doll, you’re back.” his raspy voice announced your presence just as you opened the door as if he was in the room with you.
on the camera, he was spread out in the middle of the floor like a starfish. his blonde hair covered his face, but you could still see the eye bags forming under his sunken eyes.
“i have a bit of a headache. i’m dizzy. my throat is dry,” he answered your questions for you, “will i get to see you today, doll?”
you were a bit afraid to answer, hesitating as you pressed the button, “i’m sorry. no.”
“but i will be able to see you after the study, right? after the study you’ll marry me, right?”
your heart dropped into your stomach at the words.
“i have a partner, jisung.”
“i know,” he smiled lightly, “it’s me. but soon i’ll be your husband, right?”
this was too much. you felt sick. you needed to alert the rest of the team and let someone else take over this case. hell, you might even quit your job.
“imagine you as han y/n. it sounds beautiful, doesn’t it?”
his crazed voice rang through your ears as you stood up from your seat.
“nobody else has ever made me feel this way, do you know that? all i want is you. and i’ve only seen you twice. isn’t that absurd? love is just so beautiful.”
his words caused you to still. you felt like a deer in headlights.
“do you think the shot is what made me crazy? because ever since we met eyes after you gave it to me, i couldn’t stop thinking about you. about your touch, even through the gloves. all of my songs have been about you. i even drew you.”
waves of nausea came crashing down on you.
“i can’t wait until i’m finally out of here. i can finally have you all to myself. i’ll kill that night staff for taking you away from me.”
jisung scoffed at the thought of him, “and he’s the one who gets the pleasure of passing by you every day? do you like him? i’ll gouge his eyes out and wear his skin if you like him more than me, hm?”
you raced towards the trash can in the corner of the room, stomach churning as your breakfast came right out of your mouth.
the smell was putrid, acidic, disgusting. but not as disgusting as the words of the sick man behind the camera.
“did you watch me shower, my love? i don’t mind if you did. your lavender body wash felt so good on my body, i imagined it was you in there with me, washing my body yourself—“
you ran out of the room, slamming the door behind you.
“he’s crazy! he’s gone mad!” you point towards the surveillance room, tears streaming down your face as you try to explain the situation to the nearest person that you can find.
“calm down. go to the break room. i’ll alert the rest and we’ll handle it.”
“you’ll be okay,” a staff member reassures, handing you a much-needed drink from the vending machine, “he won’t be able to escape. we will detain him and try to get him any help that we can.”
“even aside from how creepy he was, i just feel terrible, you know? i gave him that shot.”
“it isn’t your fault. he knew what he was getting into. we tried our best to determine the effects. there was no way of knowing.”
although he was right, guilt and horror still ate you up as you rested your head in your hands.
“this is why our job is important, so that only one person gets hurt instead of an entire population of people.”
“what a shitty job.”
he laughed as he got up, “tell me about it. i’m gonna go see what i can do to help. let us know if you need anything.”
the door closes and you lay your head down on the table, closing your eyes.
all you could think about was the man and his words.
‘i can’t wait until i’m finally out of here. i can finally have you all to myself. i’ll kill that night staff for taking you away from me.’
would he be able to leave? would he be able to get over this love sickness? is it reversible? nobody knew anything about it. the only thing that could be done is watching him.
it only seemed to get worse over the days, and you didn’t want to know what he would be like at the end of the month.
Overnight Notes
Han Jisung (Male)
23 years old, psychosis
Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.
Intramuscular, Upper Arm
Notes: Jisung ate no dinner and requested no night snack. Did not sleep through the night. Refused conversation aside from asking for previous staff, Y/N L/N.
you no longer worked with jisung. instead, you had been assigned to a new case.
“it isn’t too late to back out, we have a few more candidates willing to take your place.”
“i’m not nervous. go ahead and inject me, doctor,” the patient joked, pulling her sleeve up.
“and as the paperwork says, your only allergy is mild reaction to shellfish, but no anaphylaxis or any history of mental illness?”
“all correct.”
you were wiping her bicep with alcohol when the door had opened, screams piercing your ears from outside of the soundproof room.
“y/n?”
blood dripped onto the floor from his heaving form, eyes bloodshot and locked right on your form. in his hand, he held a loaded handgun, the smell of gun powder seeping into the room.
the patient in front of you screeched, immediately making a run for it before her brains were splattered across the room.
your ears rung from the shot, standing stalk still as jisung approached you.
everything was moving too quickly. you couldn’t process a single thing. your head was spinning. you needed to survive.
“please, i’ll do anything, don’t hurt me.”
“i told you. i won’t hurt you, i’d never hurt you. i couldn’t hurt you.” a bloody hand ran through your hair, taking advantage of your frozen figure.
“i can’t believe i’m so close to you right now.” his nose buried into your neck and you could feel the cold metal of the gun pressing against your back.
“they’re all dead. and you’re back.”
he dropped the gun to the floor, fishing through his pocket.
before you could register what was happening, jisung had already lodged a needle into your arm.
“sleep tight, my doll, i’ll get us out of here.”
the witching hour
-> vulnerability has never been easy for you, so you confess some things to Jisung while he sleeps
established relationship, saying I love you for the first time, anxious confession, angst, comfort, a little fluff at the end
warnings: mentions of divorced parents, cursing
1.6K
-------------------------------------------------------
There's something different about his skin at 3am. It's softer, more sensitive, and all around pretty. When you trace over his bare back, along his spine, you can feel him breathing beneath your fingers. Nothing matters anymore but the oxygen entering his lungs. As long as he's breathing next to you, everything is okay.
Last night rummages through your mind like an old movie, scenes of cuddling on the couch and laughing at your favorite comedian on the television. Jisung's arms wrapped around you tightly, your body striving to be closer to him if by any means possible. It feels as though you've known him for a million years, however you've only been together for a short time. He's an angel with the dust of the stars in his eyes. He's someone you don't mind being stuck inside with for days on end, and that's saying something.
For the first time you gave yourself to him completely. You discovered a new way to express affection and it only furthers your desire to find more ways.
You know this life doesn't last forever, but right now it kinda feels like it could. You want it to. Despite the laziness in your eyes, you keep them locked on his messy hair as your fingers run through it lovingly.
You love him. Of course you do, how could you not? His tattoos and tired eyes, gentle hums and kisses across your skin. Not loving him would be a crime too horrible to even imagine.
"Baby?" You whisper through the moonlight rays gently kissing his cheeks and the warmth from his side of the bed. "You're asleep, right?"
Because you really can't have him awake for these next few moments, not to hear what you're about to say. Not yet anyway. Jisung can sleep through just about anything; you just hope he's sleeping through this.
As much as you love him, you feel guilty. Jisung is the type of guy who loves with everything he has, everything he possibly can. He gives his all to his lover and he's given his all to you. But you're not that way, not naturally.
"I think I'm almost ready…" you confess to his absent ears and unknowing unconscious, "...almost ready to say it. Although, I'm nervous to be honest. If I was more of a romantic, I would say something like, I knew from the moment I saw you. But, baby, that just isn't me."
It's hard measuring up to the hopeless romantic Han Jisung is. Being his partner means being constantly showered in uninhibited affection. Affection you don't feel worthy of receiving, not if this relationship is supposed to be an equal give and take.
"When we met," you continue to whisper, pressing yourself to his back, feeling the gentle way he breathes, and it helps calm you a bit, "I was terrified. Because you were so kind and adorable and funny…and I wasn't. I was scared. Scared I would embarrass myself or say something stupid and offend you. Fuck, I still am to be honest."
He shifts in his sleep, pausing your words for a moment while he readjusts, and you feel him pull your arm over his waist and into his chest. He cuddles it like a teddy bear, never waking but still treasuring you close to his heart.
Even his unconscious state is romantic. Does he not see how difficult he makes things for you when he does stuff like this? Who in this goddamn ruined world is this genuinely sweet and attentive? Even when they sleep?
You're lying here, practically naked next to him, and he's so damn perfectly warm and soft. It hurts a little bit.
"Can I tell you a secret?" You ask but of course he doesn't answer. "Remember when you said you were so proud that you could make my heart race so easily? Well, that pounding in my chest...that's fear. I'm anxious that I'm gonna mess something up, say something wrong, do something stupid and...god, I can't even imagine it. What if I lose you?"
The idea of losing him...it kills you inside. Your emotional instability can't handle the idea of that kind of reality, not after it's experienced what it's like to be affirmed by the most incredibly supportive and encouraging man you've ever met.
Life without Jisung is unimaginable now that you've spent so much time with him. Maybe you should reconsider just how much you depend on him, but that's just the way things happened. And you don't hate it. As much as it would pain you to be without him, being with him feels so worth it.
Life changed when you fell in love with him, but you've never had the guts to say it to his face. Telling his sleeping state is the closest you've gotten to being completely vulnerable in front of him.
"I'm sorry for rambling. But I need to work through this stuff and you're the one I always go to. Baby, you're the one I talk to about everything, so when the topic is you, who should I go to?" You sigh and try to cut your ramblings to the end. "Okay, here's my point. You asked me earlier, where I see our relationship going. And I so appreciate how hard you tried not to push the conversation and make it easy for me. You tried so fucking hard to sound casual, but baby, I could hear it in your voice. I could see it in your eyes. What you really want me to say..."
It was obvious to you. He's said it already several times, and you've avoided saying it back for weeks. Not because it isn't true, but because as soon as you say it, all this pretending to be cool about things, all this casual cuddling on the couch and making out when you're bored and waking up in the same bed. It all means something special. And you're not special like Jisung is special.
"If you asked me a year ago if I would be in bed with a guy even half as amazing as you are..." you slowly slide your leg over his hip and wrap yourself around his cuddly frame like a koala, "...I'd laugh. Never in a million years did I think I would let someone this close. But now I can't stand the thought of being away from you. You know what happened to my mom and dad. In the end, their 'love' wasn't enough to keep lust from driving them apart. The thought of seeing you cry the way my dad cried, I just...I don't want that." They're problems aren't your problems and their mistakes aren't your mistakes, but you still feel the need to bring them up.
The thought of letting someone past the stern exterior you’ve built was horrifying to say the least. Truly the most insanely terrifying thing you've done up to this day was allowing your friend, Jisung, to penetrate that barrier and make you feel like more than just a bag of bones on a floating rock in space waiting for the end of their lifespan to hurry up and count down the days.
The things that boy did for you and your appreciation for the universe are unbelievable. You will never be able to repay him. But he doesn't want gratitude or compensation, and maybe that's the hardest part. Knowing that nothing you do will ever be able to match the sheer joy you get from seeing his eyes when he smiles, his cheeks when he eats, his pout when he sleeps.
You sneak a kiss behind his ear and feel the little hairs on his neck stand up. "Thanks for breaking down my walls, baby. I know how much you hate it when I talk bad about myself, how you say it makes your blood boil. You say I deserve the best, but darling, you're the best and there's no way in hell I deserve you."
Peaking over his shoulder, you double check his eyes are still softly shut before leaning in close to his ear again and parting your lips.
Not everything needs to change, but what does need to adjust is your perception of things and you know that. Jisung isn't perfect, although most days he feels that way to you. But he tries to be and his perfectionism makes for some difficult times. There needs to be a little more confidence and little less stubbornness from both of you.
"I love you. I fucking love you so much, Jisung."
"Really?"
You startle and roll away, but he's quick to drag you back to his side of the bed, making sure you can see deep into his eyes now.
"You were awake?"
"Mhm." Jisung smiles sleepily. He heard...everything?
"Why didn't you say something?"
"Sounded like you needed me to be asleep. So, I let you talk it out with yourself first. But when I heard you say that," he sighs and leans his forehead against yours, "I can't sleep through a confession like that. Not when I'm desperately in love with you too."
The tears in your eyes are solely from being startled and you will not argue about it.
His lips find yours in a deep kiss, one that dissolves all your anxieties and fears. He holds you gently as if you might break, his leg pulling you close under the sheets, his hand pressing on the small of your back until your hips slide together. The way his nose fits with yours is not consequential but it's so cute and your heart swells knowing that your bodies are literally two puzzle pieces.
"Thank you," he whispers against your lips, lulling you into his embrace until you can't remember where you end and he begins.
"For what?"
Jisung closes his eyes with a satisfied hum, nuzzling into your neck happily and safely.
"I can't sleep without you."
::
Arghhhh😩😩, I'm in love with Jisung as spiderman </3. Please take my heart away :') because this is too much sweet for me.
Hihi! I saw your repost of the kiss prompt list, not sure if this is where I'm supposed to request but I think ♥️ Spiderman kiss x Han would be freaking adorable 😭 Obviously if you don't feel up to it don't feel obligated to or anything 🫶
˖˙ ᰋ ── ♥️ - 'spiderman kiss'
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff (and a little bit suggestive)
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: i swear your request came just as i watched 'no way home' for the first time!! it brought back my love for the franchise so ofc i had to write this!! i had so much fun, i hope you'll enjoy reading it too and that i did your idea justice🩷
You haven’t always believed in superheroes. Most people around you thought they were roaming the city and keeping everyone safe, the saviours the world needed coming to life straight from the pages of a comic book. On the other hand, you thought it was stupid and very unlikely, no matter how much proof they bothered to show just to bring you to their unhinged side. Ignorance is bliss as they say but, in this case, you genuinely believed they all went crazy in their desperate attempt at holding onto their happiness, the normalcy ripped away when the strange disasters hit your town one by one.
So, their existence was all nonsense to you until the unexpected happened. You started dating one.
Now, if you were the one to broadcast it for the whole world to hear, they would be the ones calling you crazy. And you wouldn’t blame them – you did not budge or bother to entertain anything Han Jisung was blabbering about, powers and other absurd stuff until he showed you.
To prove he wasn’t messing with you or just maladaptive daydreaming, on your first date, Jisung took you around the city to show you all of his favorite places. Not by car, or on foot, like anyone would expect, but from above. Yes, above. Without much explanation, in his red and blue latex suit, Jisung turned to you with a lone question.
“Do you trust me?”
Frankly, you did not, with it being your first date and all but you figured since he was cute, you might as well entertain him to score that second outing.
With a nod from you, his beautiful face disappeared behind a goofy spider mask as he instructed you to hug him tight and never let go, no matter what. You hesitated, arms going for his middle before he gently redirected them, one by one, to wrap around his neck, the proximity flustering you both.
You didn’t think your heart could speed up even more until he hugged you by the waist and suddenly jumped, finding yourself several feet in the air in a split second. Spider web seemed to come out of his palms, sticking to the high skyscrapers effortlessly and swinging you around the city like it was the most natural means of transportation, your screams dying out from the shock. You almost crashed a couple of times, when in your terrified state, let a hand wander to his face, desperate to hold on and be put down at the same time. If not for his mask, you would have taken out an eye and Han Jisung’s career as a superhero, as well as your life, would have ended prematurely.
From that day forward, you believed in superheroes and every little absurdity that came out of Jisung’s mouth regarding their world and all the diverse powers people like him possessed. He didn’t speak about that side of his life too much, as to keep you safe, but the stuff he was willing to share was mind-blowing enough.
And that’s how you came to date Spiderman himself, a sheer contrast from the nerdy, shy guy you admired from afar in all of your classes. Still, you wouldn’t change it for the world.
Not even when instead of using the door, he randomly plopped on your windowsill whenever he missed you, throwing finger hearts and all the other variations he knew of to apologize for scaring you half to death like he was doing now. At least he had the decency to knock.
“Hello, love of my life.” He purred the moment he was let in, waltzing about like he owned the place, already familiar with your room. Collapsing onto your bed, he settles on his side, holding his masked head in one hand casually. “Still stuck on homework?”
“Oh, you mean the homework we were meant to work on together?” You stood a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest in indignation.
If he wasn’t still wearing his mask, you’d see his mouth drop open to form an ‘o’ shape, dramatic in his expressivity but not always genuine. “Baby, that was today? I’m so sorry! I swear I thought the assignment wasn’t due for another week.”
Your boyfriend was a top student, getting the highest grades on every test, exam and pop quiz he’s ever received. How the fuck did he manage to do all that with that goldfish-like memory of his?
“What’s got you so busy anyway?” You take a seat next to him on the bed, reaching to pinch the mask off his face before releasing it quickly, which he complains about loudly.
“Oh, you mean besides counting the laps you run through my mind constantly?” He wiggles his eyebrows beneath the mask, rubbing his left cheek to soothe the pain caused by the latex. Yes, the latex was definitely the one who hurt him, you could never.
You feel your face heat up to your ears, suddenly shy at his blatant flirtation. Noticing, he scoots closer as he moves into a sitting position, arms circling your waist to hug you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder like he’s done thousands of times before.
“Do you miss me?” His voice drops, atmosphere shifting as you lean into his hold a little too eagerly.
You couldn’t deny it – you have been missing him these days as he suddenly got insanely busy with those superhero duties of his.
“And what if I do?” In a bold show of confidence, you turn slightly in his arms to take off the annoying mask obscuring the breathtaking beauty that’s charmed you at first glance, all of those months ago.
Jisung smirks, so wide it turns into a grin that pulls harshly on your heartstrings, leaning to plant tender kisses on both cheeks while hugging you even tighter, almost like he wanted you to morph into one. Things would be so much easier then, he would be able to take you everywhere he went without going crazy with worry.
“We can’t have that, now, can we?” His kisses move to your shoulder, then down your arm, stopping to intertwine your hands before bringing them to his lips, to give your knuckles the same attention. “That would mean I’m a shitty boyfriend.”
You shake your head, eyes following his every move, mesmerized, as he kisses your skin with so much love and care, handling every inch like you were nothing more than a glass sculpture he was afraid he’d break if he as much as breathed too loudly. “That’s not – “
“Y/n, darling? Are you there?”
The booming voice of your father’s, followed by his approaching footsteps up the stairs has you pulling apart like burnt, panic settling in once you both realize the compromising position you’re currently in. Jisung was not the problem; your father loved him, said he was the best boy his child could ever pick to date. But his presence as a whole, how he even got in without anyone seeing him knock on the front door was sure to raise many questions you could not answer without revealing Jisung’s secret.
For once, your boyfriend doesn’t linger as your eyes meet, pulling the mask over his head in one swift movement before jumping to his feet.
“Jisung – “ He hushes you, gently pressing a finger to your lips in hopes you won’t panic too much, silently encouraging you to breathe and stop your frantic search for a place to hide. Your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest, scared he’d be found out and harshly ripped away from your side, reported to the police for invading random people’s homes. Your father was not the biggest Spiderman fan, claiming he was nothing but a smug troublemaker who enjoyed showing off a little too much. Now, finding said Spiderman in his child’s room would surely send him into a frenzy of rage you didn’t want to witness.
Once your breathing slows down, Jisung gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go and webbing out of the room through the same window he came in, just as the door swings open.
“Darling?” Your father asks, stepping in to look around, a little confused. “Were you talking to someone?”
Quick to react, maybe even a little too quick, you point to your abandoned phone on the desk, shifting your weight from one foot to the other while clearing your throat. “Jisung and I were doing our homework.”
“Ah, I thought I heard him in here.” He nods, pleased with your answer, blind to the anxiety that had you break out in a cold sweat. “Sorry for interrupting. Do you want your favorite for dinner?”
When you agree with a smile, he leaves whistling, happy to be on his way and prepare dinner for his loved ones, saying he’ll call you downstairs in an hour or so.
Relief floods you once the door closes, knees almost giving out as all the tension leaves your body gradually. Just as your breathing returns to normal, you then hurry to the window, sticking your head out in search of your slippery boyfriend while checking every rooftop and high place in the vicinity.
You take a step back with a sigh when you can’t spot him, greatly disappointed. Has something happened in the short period it took to get rid of your father, pulling Jisung in the direction of another fight to ensure the safety of the city? Hopefully, that was not the case. But then, did that mean he got bored of waiting and left for good, too impatient to return to you?
Turning your back to the window, you ignore the chill that sneaks in and consider returning to your homework. Maybe Jisung will call later and explain, or you’ll just call him yourself after dinner. There had to be a reason for his absence, and you’ll try to appear unbothered if it turns out that reason was you.
“Boo.”
You whip around so fast that your eyes almost jump out of their sockets and escape out the window when Jisung appears before you, hanging by a thread from the ceiling, with a wide grin visible even through the thick mask.
“Hi, baby, what’s with the long face?”
You frown, still a little startled but approach nonetheless. “I thought you left me for good.”
He’s surprised, you can tell by the way his whole body tenses, and not from the effort of keeping himself upside down. “I am literally nothing without you, that would never happen for as long as I live.”
“And even after I pass, my ghost will keep you company until we can be together again in the afterlife.” He adds, sighing. “Do you not know me at all?”
The fact that he was so certain he would be the first one to depart from this world was chilling, to say the least. Still, the reassurance makes you feel a tiny bit better. Jisung will always return to you, no matter what, clinging to your connection for as long as he lived and even beyond, confident the red string of fate that tied you together won’t allow you to ever lose each other.
Jisung beckons you closer with a lone finger, holding on to his web with one hand, still insisting on remaining upside down for some unknown reason. When you’re close enough, his free arm wraps around your shoulders and drags you forward, almost closing the small gap between you.
“Sorry.” You murmur, a little embarrassed for jumping to conclusions just like that, forgetting the love your boyfriend carried for you everywhere he went, protecting it from evil while also counting on it to lead him down the right path, away from darkness and destruction. He tilts your head up, finger under your chin gently, and you’re left staring into big, stitched-on eyes.
“None of that, angel.” He shakes his head, managing to nudge your nose with his and spread the warmth in your chest throughout your whole body. “Kiss me and all is forgiven.”
You raise an eyebrow as it all clicks in your head. This was his plan from the beginning, hence why he never bothered to drop down and greet you properly. Typical Jisung, leave it to him to create random circumstances just to get a kiss instead of asking for one, like a normal person would. He loved being spoiled after all and he knew you loved complying, finding his menace tendencies too endearing to ever say no.
So without further ado, you do exactly what he expects and has been daydreaming about for days on end – nimble fingers reach for his mask and pull gently, afraid your touch alone might hurt him somehow when in reality, it’s the only one that does the opposite. You stop right before his nose, playfully squeezing and blocking his airways as your way of getting back at him, letting go and bringing your lips to his before he can even begin protesting.
You cup his cheeks, a little awkward, his arm still around your shoulders as you slowly kiss, drowning in each other and the waterfall of love that never and will never run out. Your tongues meet, and the kiss quickly becomes heated and wet, much more intense than either of you is used to. Maybe after all this time, the love started to overflow, making it impossible to control yourselves and your urges. Not like you minded, obviously delighted at this newfound passion as you can’t seem to get enough of each other.
Jisung is the first to pull away, and you can’t help but vocalize your protest when you notice a thin string of saliva still connecting your lips, almost like you’ve been glued together for so long that separating was out of the question, the sight making your head spin.
Yet, this brief moment allows him to drop down and scop you into his arms, your legs hugging him by the waist instantly as Jisung removes his mask and dives in again, kissing you like he needs it more than the air to breathe. His tongue is teasing yours again, lips feverish as you occasionally bite down just to hear the sweet sounds that escape him, all the groaning and huffing that indicate all of his restrain hangs by a thin spider web.
“I could kiss you forever.” He breathes between quick pecks, eyes hazy as he stares at you beneath thick eyelashes. “Will you let me?”
He didn’t even need to ask. You’d let Han Jisung mold you into whatever he desired if that meant he’d stay happy for all eternity, for whatever was good for him, was also good for you.
But for now, forever will last until dinner is ready and your dad will barge into your room again, shooing the love bubble you and your boyfriend resided in away from prying eyes, out the open window.
And just because you can never be away from him for too long, Jisung will have to use the door and be invited inside as your boyfriend, and not as Spiderman.
tagging: @jisunggy <3
Damn— this is dark and creepy, it's perfect! It gave me chills but I gotta say, I love it </3
(it's been a long time since I read about psychopath and I need to thank you for giving me motivation to complete something that I'm working on :))
I Just Killed My Ex
Mentally Unstable! Hyunjin x Psychopath! Reader
warning: mentions of killing, and violence
You stood over the lifeless body, your breath steady and unnervingly calm. His eyes remained wide open, frozen in an expression of shock and betrayal, reflecting the pale moonlight that filtered through the thick canopy of trees. The woods, dark and dense, loomed around you, swallowing all other sounds except the distant rustling of leaves and the soft hoot of an owl. The woods had always been his greatest fear, ever since he was a child. That’s why you chose this place. You lured him here with the perfect bait—promises of a romantic evening, the illusion of affection that he so desperately craved.
The blade in your hand glistened, slick with the blood you’d just spilled, each crimson droplet sliding down its length with a kind of grace. You glanced down at the handle, the smooth wood fitting comfortably in your grip, before shifting your gaze back to him. A slow smile tugged at your lips, curling them into a smirk as you admired your handiwork.
"Y/N… why the woods? You know I hate it here, it’s too dark…," he'd whined earlier, his voice trembling with the same unease you’d always found so irritating. You remembered the way his eyes darted nervously from tree to tree, as if expecting the shadows to leap out at him.
You had chuckled softly at his discomfort, leaning in close to murmur sweetly, "Why are you scared?" Your hand had traced lazy, gentle patterns down his arm, a gesture that once reassured him. "I’m the one who’s going to have to walk back alone."
The way his brow furrowed in confusion, the slight quiver in his lips as he tried to make sense of your words—it was almost too easy.
"W-What?" he had stammered, the fear creeping into his voice.
But he never got an answer.
His hands had reached up, grasping weakly at your wrists as though that could stop you. You watched, emotionless, as the light slowly faded from his eyes. The strength in his grip loosened, his arms falling limply to his sides.
Now, as you stood over him, the wind ruffled your hair, carrying away the metallic scent of blood. The darkness of the woods no longer seemed menacing to you—it was a sanctuary. You had planned every detail, down to the exact moment the moon would be highest in the sky, casting its cold light over your final act.
The shadows embraced you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt in control. You knelt beside him, wiping the blade clean on his shirt, then stood again, taking in the stillness of the night. His body was just another part of the landscape now, another piece of the scene you had made.
Without a second glance, you turned and walked away, the leaves crunching softly underfoot. You wouldn’t be walking back alone after all—not really. His fear had died with him, but yours? Yours had just begun to bloom.
You stared down at the body, your breath now coming in measured, calculated intervals as the reality of what needed to be done next settled in. The blade still shone in your hand, but its purpose had been fulfilled. Now, it was just dead weight, like him. The woods were vast, dark, and suffocating, but you couldn’t leave him here. No. He had to come back with you. This wasn’t over yet.
With a sigh, you crouched beside him, brushing aside the stray twigs and leaves that clung to his clothes. His lifeless body looked heavier now, limp and uncooperative. You grabbed him by the ankles, testing his weight with a small tug. The thought crossed your mind briefly—how odd it was to be this close to someone you once shared intimate moments with, now reduced to a mere object, something to be moved, disposed of.
The first tug was awkward, his legs dragging across the forest floor with a dull scrape. The sound was unsettling but strangely satisfying, the friction against the earth a reminder of his final resistance. You adjusted your grip, digging your heels into the dirt for leverage, and began the grueling process of pulling him through the trees. His body bumped over roots and uneven ground, his head lolling to one side, as if he were a puppet whose strings had been cut.
You glanced over your shoulder occasionally, scanning for any signs of movement, for any witnesses that might be lurking in the darkness. The woods were silent, save for the sounds of your labor and the occasional distant hoot of an owl. Each pull sent a surge of adrenaline through you, driving you forward.
It wasn’t long before the clearing came into view, the distant outline of the city lights barely visible through the gaps in the trees. You had parked your car far enough away that no one would suspect anything, but close enough that you could still manage to get him inside without drawing too much attention. You hadn’t planned on him being this heavy, though. The trek felt longer, more arduous with each step, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins dulled the physical strain.
After what felt like hours, you finally reached the edge of the woods. His body was covered in dirt and leaves now, his clothes torn from being dragged across the rough terrain. You wiped the sweat from your brow and glanced at the car, hidden just out of sight, parked along a secluded stretch of road. The hardest part was yet to come.
You heaved him up into the trunk, your muscles screaming in protest as you shoved him inside. The thud of his body hitting the metal interior echoed in the night, but no one was around to hear. You slammed the trunk shut, the sound final, like a door closing on this chapter.
Back at the apartment, you parked in the underground lot, grateful for the late hour and the quiet that enveloped the building. You moved swiftly, methodically, hauling his body from the trunk and into the elevator, avoiding the security cameras you had already noted during your planning. His weight dragged behind you, a burden both literal and symbolic, as you made your way to the door.
Once inside, you exhaled, surveying the dimly lit space. The apartment felt too clean, too pristine, as though it had been waiting for this. You wiped your hands on your black jeans, smearing them with dirt and blood, and turned your gaze to the body lying in the middle of the room.
This was your sanctuary, your carefully curated life, and he was the one thing that didn’t belong anymore. But now, it was his final resting place. His presence here would serve a new purpose.
With a grim determination, you dragged him across the floor one last time, positioning him where you wanted—just another piece in your plan.
The hospital loomed in the distance, its sterile glow cutting through the night like a beacon. A smart choice, really—neutral ground where you could blend in and buy yourself time. No one would suspect you here. Hospitals were filled with people consumed by their own tragedies, chaos and misery woven into the very walls. It would be easy to slip through unnoticed, another face among the wounded and weary.
The stench of iron clung to you, lingering in the air like some perverse perfume. Blood, still warm, dripped slowly from your fingertips, splattering onto the cold pavement with each step. The sound of it hitting the ground was faint, barely audible over the distant hum of traffic, but to you, it might as well have been a drumbeat echoing your guilt. Your black clothes, chosen with care for their ability to conceal, now felt heavy, saturated with the evidence of your crime. The fabric stuck to your skin, wet and uncomfortable, the drying blood forming a layer that made your every movement feel deliberate. You could feel it like a second layer of skin, invisible to everyone but yourself.
You walked toward the hospital’s entrance, the automatic doors hissing open as you approached, like a mechanical sigh welcoming you into a world of antiseptic smells and soft murmurs. The fluorescent lights were harsh against your bloodshot eyes, casting everything in a cold, sterile light that contrasted sharply with the warmth of the blood that still clung to you. But no one looked twice. The rush of nurses, doctors, and patients barely spared a glance in your direction. To them, you were just another face, just another body passing through.
The blood from your ex seeped through your clothes in places, sticky and warm, though no one noticed. Not yet. Your dark attire hid the worst of it, but you could still feel it, the wet patches where his life had spilled over and marked you as something other than innocent. You kept walking, your pace steady but not hurried. Panic would give you away. You couldn’t afford that. Not now.
He had to die.
The thought repeated in your mind, a mantra of justification, though you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince—yourself or the ghost of him that still lingered in your thoughts. His face flickered across your memory, that familiar sneer curling his lips, the look of disdain that he always wore when he talked to you. That condescending tone, the way he spoke as though every word you said was meaningless, as though you were some toy to be played with and discarded. His cruelty had always been so subtle, so artful. He never hit you, never screamed at you. No, he was much smarter than that.
He twisted your thoughts until you didn’t know where his desires ended and yours began. He made you doubt yourself, question everything you once held dear. Slowly, over time, he chipped away at you, stripping you down until you were a hollow version of the person you used to be. You tried to leave, once. You packed your bags, stood in the doorway, but he had stopped you with nothing more than a few choice words—a promise to change, a fleeting moment of tenderness that made you second-guess everything. You had been weak then, afraid. But not anymore.
Now, you were free.
But freedom came with a price, and as you stood in the sterile hospital hallway, the weight of what you’d done settled over you like a shroud. You could almost feel his ghost following you, whispering in your ear, telling you that you would never really escape him. He would haunt you, a constant presence, until the guilt consumed you whole. But you didn’t care. You could live with the guilt. It was better than living with him.
You moved through the hospital with purpose, though each step felt heavier than the last. Every door you passed felt like an invitation to turn back, to undo the irreversible, but you pushed forward. You knew why you had come here, knew that the hospital wasn’t just a hiding place—it was a temporary refuge from the storm that raged inside you.
The fluorescent lights flickered overhead as you approached the front desk, the buzz of the hospital growing quieter in your ears as your mind raced. You leaned against the counter, feigning calm as you scanned the waiting room, your pulse thrumming under your skin. It was busy—families waiting for news, doctors rushing between patients, nurses scribbling down charts. No one cared about the woman in bloodstained black clothes who had just walked through the doors. Not yet.
You tapped your fingers against the counter, your mind flickering back to his face once more. You saw the sneer again, heard his voice—the way he’d called you pathetic, small. But not this time. This time, you had made sure he would never speak again. And as the hospital buzzed with life around you, you felt a twisted sense of satisfaction settle in your chest. He was gone, and you were still here.
You were still free. But for how long?
"Good evening, how can I help you?" the nurse chirped, her voice unnervingly bright, the kind of overused politeness that made her seem robotic. She had no idea who you were, no idea what you had done just hours ago. And that was the beauty of it.
"I’d like to donate blood," you replied smoothly, your voice soft but unwavering. You kept your expression neutral, even innocent, as if nothing in the world could be out of place.
The nurse blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the request. "Oh, sure… um, we just need to take your vitals first. If you’ll follow me—"
"No need," you cut her off with a slight wave of your hand, tilting your head with genuine confusion, as if she had suggested something absurd. "I’ve got plenty of blood at home. I can bring it in buckets if you want."
Her face changed in an instant. The nurse’s eyes widened, her friendly mask cracking as she tried to process what you had just said. The color drained from her cheeks, leaving her as pale as the hospital walls behind her. Her hands trembled—ever so slightly—but enough for you to notice, enough to spark that amusement inside you.
She stammered, trying to find her voice, but nothing coherent came out. Instead, she mumbled something under her breath, barely audible, and then turned on her heel, her shoes squeaking against the polished floor as she hurried away toward the back room. You watched her flee, your eyes following her retreating figure as she scurried off like a frightened animal.
The sight amused you. She was weak, terrified—just like him.
A cruel smirk crept across your face, spreading slowly as you leaned back against the counter. You could still see the look on her face, the way her hands shook as she fumbled to escape your presence. People like her were so easy to scare, so fragile. All it took was a few carefully chosen words, a subtle shift in tone, and they crumbled.
You glanced around the waiting area, the sterile atmosphere now tinged with your silent amusement. It was almost too easy. You had come here to buy time, to distance yourself from the body you had left behind, but this… this was a bonus. Watching people break under the weight of their own fear, just like he had, gave you a sense of control. It reminded you that you weren’t weak anymore.
The nurse hadn’t returned, and you doubted she would. The idea of her cowering in the back room, trying to explain what had just happened to her colleagues, made you chuckle under your breath. You imagined her recounting the conversation, her voice shaking, her eyes darting around in fear that you might still be lurking.
You leaned against the counter, waiting patiently, your smirk never fading.
Not long after, an older nurse emerged from the same door, her hair white as snow, her movements slow. There was something about her—a quiet strength, a knowing look in her eyes that came from years of experience. She wasn’t like the younger nurse who had fled in terror. No, this woman had seen her fair share of strange things. She wouldn’t be easily shaken.
"My dear," she said, her voice soft and warm, approaching you with a gentle smile. "Don’t mind that young one. She’s easily spooked. You seem like a lovely girl. Kind. Strong. This generation’s a bit misunderstood, but you all have good hearts deep down."
You blinked, her words falling over you like syrup, thick and sweet. Kind? She was calling you kind? The irony of it curled inside your chest like a snake ready to strike. The words dripped from her lips, heavy with patronizing sympathy, as though she thought she could read you—like you were some lost child she could save with a few soft-spoken reassurances.
"You're kind."
"Kind," you echoed, the word rolling off your tongue in a whisper of disbelief, tasting bitter, soaked in irony. Did she even know what she was saying? Could she sense the darkness lurking beneath your skin, or was she blind to it? You almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.
The older nurse’s smile never wavered. She reached out and squeezed your shoulder, the gesture meant to comfort, but all you could feel was the weight of her hand—a reminder of the blood that still clung to you, the blood she had no idea was there.
Then her fingers brushed against something wet, and her smile faltered. Slowly, she pulled her hand back, her expression shifting as she looked down at her palm. Blood. Dark, sticky blood smeared across her skin, clinging to her fingers like the evidence of a sin too great to be washed away. Her face drained of color, the warmth that had once been in her eyes replaced with a growing sense of dread.
Her gaze flicked from her hand to your face, and in that moment, the truth crashed into her like a slow, suffocating wave. She knew.
But she didn’t say a word. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came. It was as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs, as if her mind was trying to grasp the horror of what stood in front of her but couldn’t quite catch up.
And then, like an omen, the distant sound of sirens broke the silence. Faint at first, but growing louder, closer. They were coming. For you.
The nurse’s eyes widened, panic finally creeping into her expression. You could see it—the fear, the dawning horror that spread across her face as the reality of the situation settled in. She had touched the blood. His blood. And now, she understood.
But she didn’t scream. She didn’t call for help. She just stood there, frozen in disbelief, her eyes locked onto yours, as though she were trying to reconcile the image of the "kind, strong" girl she had seen with the truth of what you had done.
You let your gaze linger on her, savoring the moment, the way her confidence crumbled under the weight of her realization. Her world was shattering in slow motion, and you… you were the cause.
With a soft, almost cruel smile, you turned away, your steps calm, measured, as if the sirens weren’t growing louder with every passing second. You could feel the nurse’s eyes on you, still too stunned to move, too overwhelmed to react. It was perfect. The fear, the silence, the power you held in that fleeting moment.
But you didn’t have time to relish it. The sirens were closing in, and you needed to disappear. Without a glance back, you slipped out the hospital doors and into the night, leaving the nurse—and everything she now knew—behind.
Without thinking, you bolted, pushing through the hallway doors as the wail of sirens grew louder, chasing you through the sterile corridors. Your heart pounded in your chest, every step echoing against the cold tile floors. You needed a way out, fast.
You ran deeper into the hospital, barely aware of your surroundings, just desperate to escape. Rounding a corner, you slammed into someone—a tall, thin man in a hospital uniform. His face was pale, almost sickly, and his hair was a wild mess, framing his hollow eyes. He looked like he had been here far too long. A mental patient.
"Watch it," you muttered, trying to shove past him. But he just stood there, unmoving, his gaze shifting from your face to the floor beneath you. It was as if he could see through you, into the blood-soaked secret you carried.
Without a second thought, you grabbed his wrist and yanked him into the nearest room—a laundry room, dimly lit and cluttered with piles of clothes. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered and buzzed, casting a sickly glow over everything.
Slamming the door shut behind you, you pulled out your knife and pressed it against his throat. The blade still had traces of blood on it, glistening under the light.
"Take off your clothes," you ordered, your voice cold and unflinching. You needed to blend in, to disappear before the sirens reached the hospital.
His breath hitched, but he didn’t resist. Slowly, almost too calmly, he began to undress, his movements methodical, his gaze never leaving yours. There was something in his eyes, amusement gleaming in them, as if he found the entire situation entertaining.
When he was down to his undergarments, he sat on the wet floor, folding his legs beneath him like a child. His stare never wavered. He watched you with a kind of fascination as you tore off your blood-soaked clothes, swapping them for his. The fabric was cold against your skin, damp from the humidity of the room. As you changed, you noticed the water on the floor—the blood from your clothes seeping into it, swirling like red ink in a puddle.
His eyes became crescent moons as he saw it too. His lips curled into a small, smile. "That’s not your blood, is it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with delight, as though the truth excited him.
"No," you replied simply, pulling the patient uniform over your body. "It’s not."
The room fell into silence, save for the soft dripping of water and the distant hum of the hospital around you. You could feel his eyes on you, burning with curiosity, his mind racing to understand you, to piece together the kind of person you must be.
He looked down at the bloodied water, his grin widening. "You killed someone."
You shot him a cold glare, but he didn’t flinch. If anything, he seemed even more excited by your reaction.
"I like you," he murmured, his voice dark and playful, like a child discovering a new toy. "Take me with you."
"No." Your response was immediate, firm.
As you moved toward the door, his hand shot out, grabbing your ankle with surprising strength. His grip was tight, almost desperate. "Take me with you," he repeated, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous sort of determination.
Your eyes narrowed, your grip tightening on the knife. "No."
He stood up, quick and agile, pulling clothes from a nearby pile and dressing himself in them as though he had planned for this all along. "If you don’t take me," he said, his tone light, almost sing-song, "I’ll scream."
The threat hung in the air between you. You stared at him, your mind racing. He was unstable, that much was clear. But he wasn’t lying. He would scream, and the sirens were already too close. If he screamed, you’d be caught. You didn’t have a choice.
"You're insane," you muttered, your voice filled with frustration.
He grinned, a wild, manic grin that sent a shiver down your spine. "Maybe. But if you don’t take me, I’ll scream."
"Fine," you growled, grabbing his wrist and yanking him to his feet. You didn’t have time to argue. You had to get out, and now, he was coming with you whether you liked it or not.
You rushed to your car, the man—Hyunjin—you had asked in a hurry, following close behind, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Once inside, you sped off, leaving the hospital behind, the distant wail of sirens fading into the night.
The drive to your house was silent, tension filling the small space between you. Hyunjin sat next to you, his eyes flitting between the road and your hands on the steering wheel, a barely concealed excitement bubbling beneath the surface.
When you finally pulled up to your house, you led him inside. He followed closely, his eyes scanning the space—until they landed on the body.
Your ex, lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood.
Hyunjin let out a delighted whistle. "You’ve been busy."
You shot him a glare, you walked over to the body, nudging it with your foot. His head fell to the side when Hyunjin tried to touch his face and the blood fell on your shoes. You ran your foot over the dead man's shirt to wipe off the blood.
"He deserved it."
"I’m sure he did," Hyunjin said, his voice dripping with amusement. "And now what? We just… live with it?"
You glanced at him, your expression unreadable. "You’re not going to run?" you asked, curious.
He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. "Why would I? You’re interesting."
"Interesting?"
"Yes," he said, stepping closer to you. "You’re like me, you're fun." His eyes gleamed with that same unsettling light from before. "We could be good together, you know."
You stared at him for a long moment, weighing his words. He was dangerous, unpredictable. But then again, so were you.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have someone like him around.
...
The door slams behind you as you enter the apartment, your pulse racing with the thrill of what you’ve just done. There’s a certain satisfaction lingering on your lips, a wicked smile you can’t quite hide.
You step over to the mirror, admiring the streaks of blood on your cheek. Not yours, of course. Never yours. A laugh bubbles up from your chest as you lean closer to your reflection.
"Beautiful."
The voice startles you, and you turn to find Hyunjin lounging on the couch, his head tilted as he watches you, eyes glittering with something. He looks far too calm, for someone who just saw you walk in like this.
"Is that why you're still here?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Because I’m a monster?"
His lips curve up into a slow, smile, his eyes narrowing with amusement. "Because you’re the only one who makes me feel alive," he says, voice as smooth as velvet, dripping with sweetness.
"Isn’t that what you wanted? To save me?"
You walk toward him slowly, every step deliberate, predatory. "I didn’t save you, Hyunjin, you begged me to get you outta there."
Hyunjin’s fingers trace along the edge of the couch, his gaze unwavering. There’s a flicker of madness behind his calm exterior, one that mirrors your own. It’s what drew you to him in the first place. The way he teeters on the edge of insanity, always so close to falling, but never quite letting go.
"Maybe that’s why I like you," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Because I want you to break me completely."
You laugh, the sound echoing through the room, cold and hollow. "You say that, but can you handle me, Hyunjin?"
He stands, slow, until he’s towering over you. His fingers brush your cheek, lingering over the blood like a lover’s touch. "Why do you think I’ve stayed?" His lips are close to your ear now, his breath hot against your skin. "I crave the chaos. I crave you."
You can feel the tension in the air between you two, the dangerous pull of your shared madness. There’s a sick beauty in it, the way you both destroy and rebuild each other, over and over again. No one else would understand it. No one else would survive it.
"You’ll fall apart," you warn, even as your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer.
His eyes meet yours, and for the first time tonight, you see it — the madness, the desperation. It’s consuming him, just like it’s consumed you.
"Then let me fall," he murmurs, his voice heavy with longing. "Let me fall into you, Y/N."
Your grip tightens, and for a moment, there’s silence. Complete and utter silence.
Then, Hyunjin smiles —while smearing that blood on your face a little more— that wicked, broken smile that matches yours so perfectly. You press your lips to his, hard and unforgiving, feeling his breath hitch as the weight of your shared insanity finally crashes down.
There’s no redemption here. Just sweet surrender.
Together.
Dad will always be here | B.Chan
pairing: chan x fem!reader (in which chan is your dad) summary: "I'll always be there for you, sweetheart. No matter how hard it gets, I'm by your side. We'll go through it together" He keeps reminding you of it but will it stay forever? word counts: 1.8k words genre: angst, small fluff, zombie apocalypse au warning: mention of death(nothing to detail), reader often get called by sweetheart lil note: okay, not the perfect timing, I know so enjoy :) Listen to daylight and Atlantis while reading this, I highly recommend it.
Your breath caught in your throat, making you choke as you tried in vain to calm yourself. Your legs trembled beneath you as your hands clasped over your mouth to stifle the scream of horror that escaped you. He stood in front of you, his back to you, and you could see fresh blood dripping from his quivering hand and the bat he had used to kill your mom a moment earlier… he had killed his wife. Her body lay lifeless, and a scarlet liquid spread from her head to the floor, forming a pool of blood where he stood, still in denial of what he had done. His feet seemed to be chained to the ground.
“Dad..." You called after him, your voice sounding fearful. Chan turned round, his cheeks splattered with blood, and he hastily wiped it away with his sleeve before walking towards you and gently grabbing your hand.
“I’m sorry that you had to see that.” The light you had seen in his eyes had disappeared. All you saw now were tears at the edge of his eyes, as if he were reflecting your expression, but he was still trying to gather his remaining strength to move on from the guilt. He squeezed your hand to reassure you that everything would be alright and flashed a smile you knew all too well was forced.
“We need to go now before they find us, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you just like your mother would want me to.” He unfolded your sleeves and buttoned them up, then moved to your shirt collar and did the same. A brief kiss on your forehead was the cherry on top, even though the world had gone cold, his love remained warm.
He pulled you by the hand and you followed him as he took one last look at his late wife and kissed her forehead one last time. You watched as he mouthed something into her ear before leaving the place you once called your safe place. It was hard to leave your memories and… your mom.
How long has it been since you exited the house? It was nothing the same as you last saw them – cars were abandoned on the street, cracked cars’ and houses’ windows and bodies– It was everywhere, scattered like trash. The weight of reality was burdening you, it felt…unreal. You clenched Chan’s hand when your mind momentarily turned hazy and he instantaneously halted on his steps, his face painted with worry as he held your shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
You nodded meekly “It’s funny how I see this every time I watch a movie and never I thought I’ll live in one”
“I hope this is a nightmare, sweetheart. Come on” He took a step further and accidentally stepped onto something. Retreating his leg, he bent to grab it, his other hand still attached to yours as if you would run away when his fingers were lifted. His eyes lit up in an unreadable expression after he realised it was a loaded gun.
Maybe he was glad he found something to protect him and you.
Both of you continued making your way out of the neighbourhood. His grip tightened at every sound he heard and pulled you closer to him. His gestures spoke a high volume of unspoken fear. The sun was beginning to hide behind the horizon when you arrived at the quiet main town.
Quiet? Usually, the town was chaotic at this hour – With people shouting to promote their things before closing the shop for the day and Minho was the one who brought all of them, insisting he would pay more than the given prices. Later, he would ask you to accompany him to a nearby foster house with a grin, arms filled with paper bags.
A sharp gasp bubbled out from your mouth after seeing Minho’s body leaning against the wall with his neck crooked to the side, a trail of deep shade of red was behind him. His neck was harshly bitten by the dead, his bone was in sight. Your cheeks felt damp and you let out a few suffocating sobs. Your feet were chained to the ground as reality had finally sunk in – who was next? Whose death would you witness next?
The sounds of branches creaking behind caused Chan to snap his head toward the direction and in a swift motion, you were hauled from the back and landed on the rough path while hearing a familiar groaning above you. Slowly glancing up, you noticed the flesh eater biting into his bat as it struggled to get hold of the man. His knuckles turned white while he attempted to push it away.
“Y/N, go now! Find a safe place, I’ll meet you there”
“But Dad!”
“Sweetheart, it’s not the time to argue” His voice was calm but laced with desperation, almost sounded like he was begging toward you. How dare he? He still has the guts to say that after your mom died? Clenching your fist, you stood up and snatched the gun from his pocket, aiming straight at the creature’s head before releasing the trigger. Its loud bang echoed in the otherwise eerie town, making the animals’ heads resting nearby perk their head and run away at the sound.
Your hand shook violently when you looked over the body that had dropped. You stepped on its arm and twisted your leg, a low sound of bone breaking entered your ear as you registered the hole on its forehead oozing an eerie-looking green liquid. This was insufficient to pay for what they had done to Mom. To Minho. To everyone.
You want them to feel your suffering. Chan’s suffering.
Your lips started drawing blood due to how long you bit your lips, a scream pleading to be let out from your chest from the moment you witnessed Chan had to kill your mother. Nails dug into the palm of your skin, exasperation was raging in your mind, encouraging you to continue shooting the body to release your hatred for the zombies.
“Why…?” You whispered under your breath. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around your waist and hoisted you up to his shoulder before rushing out of the town, thousands of footsteps tailing him from behind as it was after him — true, the creatures were running toward you, their green eyes bulging out from their socket as they saw their next victim.
Fuck…the gun
You shut your eyes, and a chain of muttering ‘I’m sorry Dad’ left your mouth.
“It’s fine, sweetheart”
Soon, he stopped on his track and gently placed you back on the ground, his popping veins from his neck didn't go unnoticed by you. He must be exhausted carrying you all the way here. He should be, you’re not a little girl anymore.
He slumped down to nearby racks, and a sense of relief washed over him as he looked over to you who was locking the supermarket’s door. He chuckled, removing his bag and the necklace he received for his birthday from his late wife, and placing it close on his side. When you turned around, he saw his wife figment in you — no doubt, your mother's eyes had been passed down on you. The shelves around him began to melt down and swam toward him, the substance felt hot under his delicate fingertips and he hissed in pain as he retreated his finger from the floor.
Even your figure was distorted in his vision, your lips twitched into a huge terrifying smile that itched from cheek to cheek. A series of incoherent voices bounced in the room, whispering to him to give up. He quickly covered his ears and closed his eyes, praying it wasn’t what he thought it was. He cautiously peeled his eyes open and everything had returned to normal.
You observe his behaviour from afar, your stomach twisted in discomfort as you realise something.
“Dad, are you okay?”
He nodded meekly and patted the dirty floor, gesturing you to rest beside him.
“Dad, I’m sorry for acting so recklessly…” your voice filled with utter shame but he simply dismissed the topic with a head shake as you settled down. You scooted closer, hugging his arm and placing your head on his shoulder.
“Don't be, you saved me” he beamed a smile. A warm smile. A smile that was different from the previous one. He caressed your head, leaving a chaster kiss on it.
A comfortable silence hung in the air as both of you engulfed yourself in the safety of each other comfort. You tried to ignore the growing green dots on his arm as you hugged his body tighter.
No, it was probably an allergic reaction.
“Y/N, I need you to do something for me. Think of it as my last wish” You glanced at him, attempting to appear nonchalant but the thought of it happening lingered in the back of your head was something you couldn't deny.
“What are you talking about? We’ll survive Dad!”
“I’m sorry…” he folded his sleeve and you quickly grasped his hand from doing it although you already saw the flowing liquid from a fresh wound.
Did he get bit at home?
“No…no, you’re not! You are going to be fine, trust me” You clenched his sleeve, watching his smile drop while tears poured down. It had been a long time since you saw him so fragile, so hopeless.
“Please Dad…”
“I’m really sorry, I try, sweetheart but I fail. I couldn't promise what your mother wanted” Intertwining your hand together, he loosened your grip and put it down, drawing a circular motion on the back of your hand.
“You’ll be fine as long as you get out of here. Leave”
“Leave you? I wouldn't!”
“It's my last wish, Bang Y/N” He reached for the gun in your hand and pressed a kiss on your forehead – it was a goodbye kiss. It was a kiss he always gave you before leaving the house, it made you feel safe and loved all day long.
But now, it left you with a hollow chest and devastation.
“Take care of yourself for me and your mother”
“Dad, please…” you pleaded…and pleaded.
“Go now, I don't want you to see me turn into them”
At the time, the green dots had arrived on his cheeks, and the brown colour of his orbs slowly disappeared. With a heavy heart, you grabbed the bag and headed for the door.
You should have ignored the early symptoms of the infection.
You should have ignored how his veins were visible on his neck
You should have stayed dumb
If that was the cost for him to stay by your side
“I love you, sweetheart”
Your shoulder jolted at the sound of the gun behind you. Gripping into the bag’s strip, the tears finally poured endlessly under you. You exited the place without looking back. You were forced to face your mother’s death and you couldn’t have the bravery to see his death. The echo from the gun reminded you of his smile and last word before your field of view turned blurry due to the tears.
“Dad will always be here”
THANK YOU🤧🤧🤧 (brb, gonna cry)
anywhere but home | H.Jisung
pairing: bestfriend!Jisung x fem!reader summary: you never find a real home until Jisung comes. warning: mentioned of parents fighting, I think that's all. word counts: 2.1k words (I swear this is supposed to be short) lil note: Previously, this story was for Jisung's birthday but his birthday was on my exam day, so I couldn't post it :((. Part of the story was inspired by this post!
A long sigh, a tossed bag and messy hair, it was a terrible day for you, and the screams that echoed from the hallway as you untied her shoes were another reason to leave home. Your gaze lingered on the ceiling, exhaustion overtaking you as you stretched out on the bed. Would it be nice to sleep without their screams for once? Was it as safe as they described? Why do you feel more threatened than the first time you lived alone in high school?
The atmosphere here was anything but safe and peaceful — it did nothing to calm your already disturbed mind. It was wrong to assume that you would have an undisturbed night tonight. The bed felt uncomfortable beneath you as you lay on the scattered books and the abandoned laptop beside you. Its bright white light stared back at you, reminding you of the heavy burden of your unfinished task.
You closed your eyes and prayed that the bed would suffocate you until it robbed you of consciousness so that you would wake up in another place and another city, far away from the constant bickering of your parents, the end of which you knew all too well. Just as the sounds of their arguments faded into incoherent whispers and the bed began to suck you in, a repeated knock on your window brought you back to reality.
You limp to the window and crouch down, a thin smile creeping in as you realise the sound came from the pebbles he’s throwing at the first-floor bedroom window. The lamp street made his grin obvious to you. He waved at you while holding the bike in one hand and looking around your house. His grin slowly faded as he saw the shadow of your parents still throwing harsh words at each other through the closed curtain – burst veins and clenched fists, it was the scene he hated watching dramas the most. He couldn’t believe you had to watch this almost every day. His heart heaved with pity for you, and he turned his eyes away, gesturing for you to come to him.
You quickly packed a few books and your laptop into a shoulder bag and went to him.
“Hey, do you want to go somewhere?”
“Somewhere far from here..."
“Come on, I know a place” He patted the back seat, a soft smile playing on his lips. Gripping gently on his shoulder, you hoisted yourself into the back seat and your hands securely encircled his waist before he took off, leaving the hell you called home.
The cool night air brushed your face as you turned round and saw your house slowly appear small and pixelated in your field of vision. He tapped the back of your hand, causing you to look at his back.
"Just let them be, one day they'll be fine again" He whispered, answering your inner thoughts that had been buzzing around in your head for a while. Leaning against his shoulder, you closed your eyes for a while, the rustling of the chains and his soft breathing replacing the scream of your parents in the back of your head. Soon after, he pulled the brakes and peered behind him.
“Hey, we’re here”
Your eyes fluttered open, but you quickly closed them as a strong light blinded you. Jisung chuckled
“Too bright, huh? I'll take them off tomorrow”
“That's not necessary, Hannie. It would be haunted” without them." You jumped off the bike. An exclamation escaped you as you looked at the tree house you and Jisung had built together. The branches were decorated with fairy lights and the roof of the tree house was also illuminated so it was visible to passing cars (as it looked like a ball of light from a distance). Two round windows peeked out behind the leaves, giving a glimpse of the interior. You were amazed that the wooden houses remained intact despite yesterday's storm among the branches. You involuntarily remember the evening on which the tree house was built.
The treehouse was in Jisung’s backyard since he had dreamed of having a tree house as a little boy. Jisung parked his bicycle on the grass, swiftly grabbed your wrist and pulled you to the hanging stair connected to the door. The stairs swung and cracked under your feet as you climbed up to reach the place. He followed suit after, accepting your hanging hand on the door.
He immediately switched on the big lamp beside the entrance, and the small, square room was bathed in its golden, warm colour. The furnishings were not extravagant – they were simple, just to your and Jisung’s taste. A bundle of blankets and soft toys, which he had thrown almost resembling a man-made bed, was next to the entrance. A plastic table took up the centre of the space and a swing was strung from the roof above. You noticed that the two baskets under the swing formed a puddle of water from the melted ice.
You wondered how long it had been here.
As you set your bag on the table, your head immediately made itself comfortable in your arm after removing all the books. A contented sigh escaped your lips. Finally, your shoulder felt lighter and your mind could breathe a sigh of relief. The soft footsteps that belonged to him approached you and a sweet smell dominated your senses.
His delighted chuckle echoed when he saw the previously dimmed star in your eyes lit up in surprise – one that reminded him of kids. Oh, how he loved it when your eyes looked at him like that, it made his heart squeak in adoration.
“You always tell me about them, so I want to surprise you with my homemade tanghulu” He said, his tone filled with pride, but his gesture said otherwise. His right hand scratched his neck as a loop-sided grin spread across his features.
“Did Lix help you with it?” You picked up a skewer of sugared purple grape – its sugar shining in the light. It was pretty to look at; hopefully, the taste won’t disappoint you. Jisung had a long history with cooking, and usually, you were the judge of his food. Some days he could execute the recipe perfectly, but other days… you preferred to keep the memories to yourself.
“Umm...Chan watched me make it,” he whispered, His grin widening even more
as he averted his eyes to your side. You had been with Jisung for a decade to recognise the expression.
“You know your eyes aren’t quite a liar”
His eyes snapped back toward you “Okay, fine! I did burn the sugar and the bottom of the pan on my first try but at least I did it! Anyway, can’t you just eat plain fruits?! Why do people bother coating them with sugar?!” His voice boomed, and his features spoke a high volume of disapproval of the existence of the innocent food. His lips pursued as he pointed at the tray of tanghulu – as if it just committed a hideous crime.
“Don’t be sulky about it, hannie. It’s just food, and you always have the option to avoid it.” You replied nonchalantly and bit into one of the grapes. The sugar popped inside your mouth and melted to your tongue. Seconds later, you spit them out as saltiness takes over the taste of sugar. Your tongue perked out — it was too much for you to handle. Too salty.
His eyes widened and panic surged when he realised that he might have messed up big time with the recipe. He abruptly stood up, causing his knee to collide with the table momentarily and a second later, the sound of him wincing in pain accompanied his walk to grab a bottle of water and a box of tissues by the bed.
“Oh god, are you okay?! Did I burn the sugar again? I think it was perfect..?” He murmured while handing a piece of tissue to you. You hastily accepted it, shaking your head in disapproval and chucked down the water.
“Ji, this is salt and sugar! Not sugar! Did you get them mixed up while making them?”
“Ohh–” A dark shade of red slowly coloured his cheeks as a low exclamation bubbled out from him. His mind went blank, unsure of a reply.
“I’m sorry! Why didn’t Chan tell me?! I’m so sorry Y/N!” He stammered, taking the plate away and throwing the food into the black plastic bag before rushing back to you to clean your hands with wet tissues. He felt his cheeks burning even more while wiping your hands, this was too close to you. Usually, he wouldn’t be flustered when your hands brushed slightly with him but tonight he was holding your hand…something that he had wondered how it would be.
He quickly retreated his hand – too fast that it took you by surprise but you brushed it off. The state of his cheeks elicited a giggle out of you, it was so red that you might have mistaken it as tomato.
“I’m expecting this” You walked to his side. You took a container filled with homemade chocolate from the ice basket, showed it to him with a thin smile and ushered him back to the table. You cracked one of the chocolate bars and gave it to him for a taste. He gasped – yeah, this was much better than his salty tanghulu.
“I will redeem myself next time.”
“Please read the label before you do anything, hannie. I don’t want another victim of your salty tanghulu.”
“I know! Give me some mercy, it’s my first attempt” He flipped open a book you brought along, his brown twitching in confusion as he continued going through the book. On the other hand, you turned on your laptop to resume your assignment that you left an hour prior with Jisung occasionally helping you with some questions – although most of the session was him complaining about the scientific terms you had to memorise.
Wrapped in the warmth of his presence, you felt at home, a haven where you could rest – as long as you were with Jisung, anywhere would feel like home.
As the clock passed midnight, you were defeated by your sleepiness as soon as your head was buried in your arms. He propped his cheeks on his palm, tender gaze resting on you. A soft smile etched on his face as he slowly and cautiously reached for your hair, brushing it with care. The moonlight seeped through the unshielded window as he halted his action.
Since when was it hard to keep the border between friends at bay? Since when did his heart play an unfamiliar rhythm whenever you were with him? He was sure he would stay as your best friend until you found the one or until you were older.
“I love you, Y/N. So much that it’s hurt me that I am only capable of comforting you with words instead of action. Every time I’m on your sidewalk, I want to welcome you with the biggest hug but I know you will be weirded out by it.”
“I’m still searching for the courage to tell you this in person. Guess what? I never found it until now” He chuckled dryly.
“Besides, you deserve someone better than me. Someone that wouldn’t give you salty tanghulu to cheer you up”
“Sleep well, Y/N. I hope you’re not listening to this”
The sunlight hit his face, making him stir in his sleep. The harmonious chirping of the birds entered his ear, lulling him into sleep – if only his phone didn’t let out its signature annoying trumpet sounds to wake him up. He groaned as he lazily dragged the phone near him.
“Jisung, where are you?” Felix sounded concerned on the other end.
“Just wake up, thank you for waking me up, lix”
“You’re still at home?”
“Mhmm. Bye, see you in class” He ended the call before Felix could reply. He stretched his body. His shoulder slumped, realising the empty space in front of him, the space you occupied last night. He rubbed his eyes and something caught his attention in his blurry vision.
He unfolded his palm and time stopped around him. He instantly ran out of the treehouse to get ready for his class.
He couldn’t believe it, did you hear his confession last night?
He took off his clothes and entered the bathroom. He read the message in his palm again, a wide smile visible on his face. His chest bloomed with excitement for today as he turned on the shower. The little note repeated in his head like a broken record – the note which said ‘Can you make it happen? I really want to know what it feels like to be in your arms. I love you too, hannie”
anywhere but home | H.Jisung
pairing: bestfriend!Jisung x fem!reader summary: you never find a real home until Jisung comes. warning: mentioned of parents fighting, I think that's all. word counts: 2.1k words (I swear this is supposed to be short) lil note: Previously, this story was for Jisung's birthday but his birthday was on my exam day, so I couldn't post it :((. Part of the story was inspired by this post!
A long sigh, a tossed bag and messy hair, it was a terrible day for you, and the screams that echoed from the hallway as you untied her shoes were another reason to leave home. Your gaze lingered on the ceiling, exhaustion overtaking you as you stretched out on the bed. Would it be nice to sleep without their screams for once? Was it as safe as they described? Why do you feel more threatened than the first time you lived alone in high school?
The atmosphere here was anything but safe and peaceful — it did nothing to calm your already disturbed mind. It was wrong to assume that you would have an undisturbed night tonight. The bed felt uncomfortable beneath you as you lay on the scattered books and the abandoned laptop beside you. Its bright white light stared back at you, reminding you of the heavy burden of your unfinished task.
You closed your eyes and prayed that the bed would suffocate you until it robbed you of consciousness so that you would wake up in another place and another city, far away from the constant bickering of your parents, the end of which you knew all too well. Just as the sounds of their arguments faded into incoherent whispers and the bed began to suck you in, a repeated knock on your window brought you back to reality.
You limp to the window and crouch down, a thin smile creeping in as you realise the sound came from the pebbles he’s throwing at the first-floor bedroom window. The lamp street made his grin obvious to you. He waved at you while holding the bike in one hand and looking around your house. His grin slowly faded as he saw the shadow of your parents still throwing harsh words at each other through the closed curtain – burst veins and clenched fists, it was the scene he hated watching dramas the most. He couldn’t believe you had to watch this almost every day. His heart heaved with pity for you, and he turned his eyes away, gesturing for you to come to him.
You quickly packed a few books and your laptop into a shoulder bag and went to him.
“Hey, do you want to go somewhere?”
“Somewhere far from here..."
“Come on, I know a place” He patted the back seat, a soft smile playing on his lips. Gripping gently on his shoulder, you hoisted yourself into the back seat and your hands securely encircled his waist before he took off, leaving the hell you called home.
The cool night air brushed your face as you turned round and saw your house slowly appear small and pixelated in your field of vision. He tapped the back of your hand, causing you to look at his back.
"Just let them be, one day they'll be fine again" He whispered, answering your inner thoughts that had been buzzing around in your head for a while. Leaning against his shoulder, you closed your eyes for a while, the rustling of the chains and his soft breathing replacing the scream of your parents in the back of your head. Soon after, he pulled the brakes and peered behind him.
“Hey, we’re here”
Your eyes fluttered open, but you quickly closed them as a strong light blinded you. Jisung chuckled
“Too bright, huh? I'll take them off tomorrow”
“That's not necessary, Hannie. It would be haunted without them." You jumped off the bike. An exclamation escaped you as you looked at the tree house you and Jisung had built together. The branches were decorated with fairy lights and the roof of the tree house was also illuminated so it was visible to passing cars (as it looked like a ball of light from a distance). Two round windows peeked out behind the leaves, giving a glimpse of the interior. You were amazed that the wooden houses remained intact despite yesterday's storm among the branches. You involuntarily remember the evening on which the tree house was built.
The treehouse was in Jisung’s backyard since he had dreamed of having a tree house as a little boy. Jisung parked his bicycle on the grass, swiftly grabbed your wrist and pulled you to the hanging stair connected to the door. The stairs swung and cracked under your feet as you climbed up to reach the place. He followed suit after, accepting your hanging hand on the door.
He immediately switched on the big lamp beside the entrance, and the small, square room was bathed in its golden, warm colour. The furnishings were not extravagant – they were simple, just to your and Jisung’s taste. A bundle of blankets and soft toys, which he had thrown almost resembling a man-made bed, was next to the entrance. A plastic table took up the centre of the space and a swing was strung from the roof above. You noticed that the two baskets under the swing formed a puddle of water from the melted ice.
You wondered how long it had been here.
As you set your bag on the table, your head immediately made itself comfortable in your arm after removing all the books. A contented sigh escaped your lips. Finally, your shoulder felt lighter and your mind could breathe a sigh of relief. The soft footsteps that belonged to him approached you and a sweet smell dominated your senses.
His delighted chuckle echoed when he saw the previously dimmed star in your eyes lit up in surprise – one that reminded him of kids. Oh, how he loved it when your eyes looked at him like that, it made his heart squeak in adoration.
“You always tell me about them, so I want to surprise you with my homemade tanghulu” He said, his tone filled with pride, but his gesture said otherwise. His right hand scratched his neck as a loop-sided grin spread across his features.
“Did Lix help you with it?” You picked up a skewer of sugared purple grape – its sugar shining in the light. It was pretty to look at; hopefully, the taste won’t disappoint you. Jisung had a long history with cooking, and usually, you were the judge of his food. Some days he could execute the recipe perfectly, but other days… you preferred to keep the memories to yourself.
“Umm...Chan watched me make it,” he whispered, His grin widening even more as he averted his eyes to your side. You had been with Jisung for a decade to recognise the expression.
“You know your eyes aren’t quite a liar”
His eyes snapped back toward you “Okay, fine! I did burn the sugar and the bottom of the pan on my first try but at least I did it! Anyway, can’t you just eat plain fruits?! Why do people bother coating them with sugar?!” His voice boomed, and his features spoke a high volume of disapproval of the existence of the innocent food. His lips pursued as he pointed at the tray of tanghulu – as if it just committed a hideous crime.
“Don’t be sulky about it, hannie. It’s just food, and you always have the option to avoid it.” You replied nonchalantly and bit into one of the grapes. The sugar popped inside your mouth and melted to your tongue. Seconds later, you spit them out as saltiness takes over the taste of sugar. Your tongue perked out — it was too much for you to handle. Too salty.
His eyes widened and panic surged when he realised that he might have messed up big time with the recipe. He abruptly stood up, causing his knee to collide with the table momentarily and a second later, the sound of him wincing in pain accompanied his walk to grab a bottle of water and a box of tissues by the bed.
“Oh god, are you okay?! Did I burn the sugar again? I think it was perfect..?” He murmured while handing a piece of tissue to you. You hastily accepted it, shaking your head in disapproval and chucked down the water.
“Ji, this is salt and sugar! Not sugar! Did you get them mixed up while making them?”
“Ohh–” A dark shade of red slowly coloured his cheeks as a low exclamation bubbled out from him. His mind went blank, unsure of a reply.
“I’m sorry! Why didn’t Chan tell me?! I’m so sorry Y/N!” He stammered, taking the plate away and throwing the food into the black plastic bag before rushing back to you to clean your hands with wet tissues. He felt his cheeks burning even more while wiping your hands, this was too close to you. Usually, he wouldn’t be flustered when your hands brushed slightly with him but tonight he was holding your hand…something that he had wondered how it would be.
He quickly retreated his hand – too fast that it took you by surprise but you brushed it off. The state of his cheeks elicited a giggle out of you, it was so red that you might have mistaken it as tomato.
“I’m expecting this” You walked to his side. You took a container filled with homemade chocolate from the ice basket, showed it to him with a thin smile and ushered him back to the table. You cracked one of the chocolate bars and gave it to him for a taste. He gasped – yeah, this was much better than his salty tanghulu.
“I will redeem myself next time.”
“Please read the label before you do anything, hannie. I don’t want another victim of your salty tanghulu.”
“I know! Give me some mercy, it’s my first attempt” He flipped open a book you brought along, his brown twitching in confusion as he continued going through the book. On the other hand, you turned on your laptop to resume your assignment that you left an hour prior with Jisung occasionally helping you with some questions – although most of the session was him complaining about the scientific terms you had to memorise.
Wrapped in the warmth of his presence, you felt at home, a haven where you could rest – as long as you were with Jisung, anywhere would feel like home.
As the clock passed midnight, you were defeated by your sleepiness as soon as your head was buried in your arms. He propped his cheeks on his palm, tender gaze resting on you. A soft smile etched on his face as he slowly and cautiously reached for your hair, brushing it with care. The moonlight seeped through the unshielded window as he halted his action.
Since when was it hard to keep the border between friends at bay? Since when did his heart play an unfamiliar rhythm whenever you were with him? He was sure he would stay as your best friend until you found the one or until you were older.
“I love you, Y/N. So much that it’s hurt me that I am only capable of comforting you with words instead of action. Every time I’m on your sidewalk, I want to welcome you with the biggest hug but I know you will be weirded out by it.”
“I’m still searching for the courage to tell you this in person. Guess what? I never found it until now” He chuckled dryly.
“Besides, you deserve someone better than me. Someone that wouldn’t give you salty tanghulu to cheer you up”
“Sleep well, Y/N. I hope you’re not listening to this”
The sunlight hit his face, making him stir in his sleep. The harmonious chirping of the birds entered his ear, lulling him into sleep – if only his phone didn’t let out its signature annoying trumpet sounds to wake him up. He groaned as he lazily dragged the phone near him.
“Jisung, where are you?” Felix sounded concerned on the other end.
“Just wake up, thank you for waking me up, lix”
“You’re still at home?”
“Mhmm. Bye, see you in class” He ended the call before Felix could reply. He stretched his body. His shoulder slumped, realising the empty space in front of him, the space you occupied last night. He rubbed his eyes and something caught his attention in his blurry vision.
He unfolded his palm and time stopped around him. He instantly ran out of the treehouse to get ready for his class.
He couldn’t believe it, did you hear his confession last night?
He took off his clothes and entered the bathroom. He read the message in his palm again, a wide smile visible on his face. His chest bloomed with excitement for today as he turned on the shower. The little note repeated in his head like a broken record – the note which said ‘Can you make it happen? I really want to know what it feels like to be in your arms. I love you too, hannie”
Combined descendants with the school for good and evil, you got this masterpiece! (Seriously, I found this story sooo latee :() thank you for the giggles🤧🤧 as someone who in love with descendant, I love thiss sooo muchhhh
➳ written on paper. lmh
pairing: (skz) lee minho x fem!reader
As the daughter of the previous Snow White, your story requires an evil witch to take the antagonist’s spot—someone who would help lead you towards your happily ever after. That was where Minho’s role comes in.
genre/s: fantasy au, storybook/fairytales next generation au, forbidden lovers(ish), angst, fluff, drama in general, a dash of humor, son of the evil queen minho x daughter of snow white reader, kinda ever after high au but with a twist
warning/s: mentions of death (no actual dying), themes of bullying & discrimination (story roles), mentions of cheating (its not minho dw), political(?) corruption & deception, swearing, crying... lots, hyunjin is kinda an asshole for a while im so sorry
wc: 16.6k
note: tysm for the people who took interest in the teaser! i hope this makes the wait worth it <3 also this is my first time writing a fic this long, so feedback would be greatly appreciated^^
2022 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.
Legacy Day.
A momentous event where the students of Storybook High pledge to all of the magical world to follow in the same footsteps as their fairytale parents. In this school, the students range from the offspring of protagonists to mere side characters—the sons and daughters of antagonists are here too.
You see, when children of this magical world turn eleven, they are sent to study at Storybook High to learn more about the realm and the stories that led to its establishment. One is expected to complete the full nine-year curriculum and sign the Book of Legends on the first day of eighth grade, sealing their fate forever. This day is called "Legacy Day."
The process of signing one’s fate has been followed for many years. Some were less willing than the others, of course—but at the end of the day, no one had ever dared not to sign. This was greatly influenced by the saying that if you don’t, then your story will disappear along with you. As one would have already guessed, that belief sparked a heated debate about whether it was true or not. After all, there were a lot of fairytale children that despised their so-called "fate".
And that leads us exactly to our current event.
Silence wraps the massive hall as all eyes are fixated on one person standing on top of the tall stage. Tension hung heavily in the air, a result created by seeing who was facing them all. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation, finding your hands clasped while your eyes were glued on Minho—who was nervously staring at the book in front of him.
Minho was what they could classify as your partner. Not in a romantic way (you suppose), but more so with your stories. As the daughter of the previous Snow White, your story requires an evil witch to take the antagonist’s spot—someone who would help lead you towards your happily ever after.
That was where Minho’s role comes in.
"I am Minho, son of the Evil Queen. And," he takes a shaky breath. "I pledge..."
Everyone watching is on the tips of their toes. Minho was most well known as the person who hated their fate more than anyone else. He was practically the face of the "rebellious teens," as the others called them, who claimed they would write their own stories instead. Being the son of the Evil Queen—the same person who poisoned your very own mother and got herself locked up inside the mirror prison, his story calls for him to do the same to you.
Surprisingly, Minho was far from what you would’ve expected as the next Evil King.
From the moment you got your acceptance letter, your parents had already warned you to never befriend Minho. They said that he’d be mean, despicable, a rotten apple, and basically evil as a whole. "Mind your own business in the dorm room, sweetheart," you remember your mother telling you as she smoothed out your dress in the carriage. "Your roommate will be the enemy. I know it sounds scary, but it’s only natural. Both of your fates are tied together. However, do not worry, my love. It’ll be over as soon as possible," she comforted you.
Well, it turns out your parents were very wrong.
Minho was nothing short of sweet and caring. Sure, he was a bit cold at times, but his frosty exterior did not speak for him the same way his heart did at all. He was fun, playful, and easy to get along with. You found yourself forming a friendly dynamic with him sooner than you expected.
"I pledge," Minho visibly gritted his teeth to force out the words he feared for the longest time. Eyes shifting, he looked at you—wordlessly pleading for you to help him escape. But, having nothing much you could do, you could only give him a small smile of encouragement. He had to do this.
There was no other choice.
Feeling defeated, he took the quill and stopped below the page. This was it—he’s expected to sign any second now, you thought bitterly. Even if one despised their fate, it was the only way to live in this world. The harsh truth that all of you had to endure.
Yet just when you were about to relax, Minho’s eyes suddenly changed from hesitant to determined. Your eyes automatically widened in horror. As his friend and roommate for the seven years you’ve been at this school, that look was something you knew very well.
He can’t be thinking of—no way!
"No," he spat out strongly. The crowd collectively gasps at his words. "I’m not signing this bullshit."
In one quick motion, the book was slammed shut.
The sound of distressed reactions took over the hall as the magic mirrors showcasing the event shattered one by one. Fear quickly spread amongst the mass of people, the emotion emphasized by the now dimming lighting. Your body froze in shock and disbelief at what Minho had just done. This—this can’t be happening, right?
Your eyes closed instinctively as you shook silently beneath the stage. You two can’t just disappear like this! What on earth was Minho thinking? Sure, you had already signed your story, but without Minho, would it even still exist? Both of your fates are broken now—if there even is one by the end of this.
You hoped the disappearing process would be painless because you really weren’t ready to experience suffering for something you didn’t ask for in the first place. A few seconds passed by as you waited for the inevitable.
But it never came.
Instead, you found yourself feeling nothing that was out of the ordinary. As you slowly raise your head to look at the situation, your eyes catch sight of Minho’s disapproving ones. In the short minute that you had that small breakdown, he had already stepped off the stage and was now proceeding to head away from the hall.
The look he gave you made your eyes burn in hot fury.
Is he serious? Why is he even disappointed? Can he really blame you for getting scared when he’s the one who put both of your lives in danger? You signed the book—you even signed it for him! All in an effort to make sure that both of your stories won’t vanish into thin air.
So what made him betray you like that?
Your clicking heels echoed loudly throughout the hallway as you walked briskly to follow his speedy figure. "Minho!" you called out to him, tone filled with frustration. Luckily, that seemed to halt his steps.
Finally catching up, you stopped just a few meters behind his back. The air was cold and lightly frosted over your warm skin. The once lively corridor was now bleak and seemed very unwelcoming. There was an unspoken hostility felt between you and Minho, as the two of you stood there for a moment—not saying anything. Something you had already expected.
What can you even say after all that?
Minho sighs in exasperation before turning around and facing you. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, refusing to venture to his face, which was carved with torment. You tried to reach your hand out to touch him, but he swatted your hand away gently. "...What do you want?"
You found your mind blanking for a moment after finally getting a better look at him. Minho looked ethereal at that moment, even through the show of his obvious pain. The moonlight suited him, you thought. It framed his whole being in its sparkling glow.
Nevertheless, it wasn't long until you remembered why you were in front of him in the first place.
"...Why?" you rasped out. All the previous events and emotions begin to flood back, overwhelming you beyond belief. "Why would you do that!?" you shrieked at him. Minho clenched his jaw at your words.
"You... you could've disappeared! I could've disappeared! What were you thinking—"
"But we didn't!" he yelled back. Your words immediately clumped up and stuck in your throat, unable to get out. "We didn't disappear! So I'm asking you now Y/N, what do you want?" Minho seethed.
What did you want? What else could you possibly want? All you wished for was to live properly and survive. But to achieve that in this world, he had to—
"Sign the book," you pleaded desperately. And even through the hurt gaze he set on you, you continued to try and reason with him.
"Please just sign the book. I'll do anything you want. You want to change your destiny, right? We can make it work! Do you perhaps want a throne? I'll give you mine willingly. You don't have to be thrown into the mirror prison," your voice was becoming shakier by the second from the intensity of the situation. "See? It's not really that hard, Minho! You could still change the events even if you signed the book. I know you're scared to live a life you don’t want, but—"
"When will you understand that it's not about me!?" he cried out.
The sheer amount of emotion in Minho's voice takes you by surprise. It was raw, and undoubtedly broken. His words pierced your heart sharply, and you inwardly winced as you felt the imaginary arrows sink deeper. Through the ache, you forced out a reply, "...Pardon?"
Minho hastily wiped the few tears that managed to escape, and said, "I don’t want a throne, and I'm not scared of going to that prison. In fact, with what they're expecting me to do, I really do deserve it! Just—just like my mother..."
He's... not? Then why go through all this trouble for a rebellion? He even appears to be willing to poison you—
"But I'm different from her. I don't want to hurt you," he added weakly, "Ever. I could never bring myself to do it, Y/N. And I knew if I signed that damned book, fate would somehow find a way for me to fulfill the story, even against my wishes. And... I can't have that."
"But what about the story now? If it disappears, we—"
"Oh please, Y/N. What are we doing right now, huh? Talking! We didn't disappear like all the legends used to say."
"But we still could!" you stubbornly retorted.
Minho huffed and rolled his eyes, "So what? I'd rather that happen than my story."
The frigid tension that formed between the two of you engulfed the whole space. At this point, you were sure that if someone were to walk in on the two of you, there was a good chance they would end up coughing ice.
"You don't mean that," you warned, glaring at him. "I know well that you aren't implying that you'd rather die than... live?" The words you uttered weighed heavy on your tongue.
He simply shrugged casually in response, "Why not? I have nothing to look forward to in my supposed future anyway. Unlike your kind who get all the happy endings, we're just here to make you guys look good—what? Don't look at me like that. You know damn well it's true," he scoffed venomously. "A lot of us don't even like our stories, but look at how we're forced to do it for you to live happily ever after."
His words set fire inside of you once again. How dare he assume you had it easy too? Maybe on paper it did—you could admit that. You were a protagonist and a royal, after all, destined to have a happy ending and live a lavish life. But you knew that if you closely examined the cards you'd been dealt with, it was far from the ideal storybook ending people made it out to be. You couldn't help but laugh at the irony.
"Do you really think I like my story too?" You questioned him with a wry chuckle. "Do you really think I want to be poisoned? Then get rescued by a prince who, mind you, doesn't even love me! And then say I have to marry him too? It's bad enough Hyunjin openly displays to the public that he doesn't have an ounce of care about my well-being, but he's even shoving it into my face that he already likes someone else! Tell me who in the world wants to be a second choice, let alone be cheated on?"
"Then you shouldn't have signed it."
His blunt words hit you like a truck. Finally feeling the crash of all the events that happened, you broke out into tears. The moonlight you praised him in earlier now serves as a humiliating reminder of what’s to come. Minho stares at your sobbing face one last time before walking away.
And all you could think about was how he could be right.
The bustling crowd of the school cafeteria is loud as always—but this time, there was a glaringly obvious tense atmosphere that followed everyone. You couldn’t help but sigh at the troublesome situation.
It's been a tough week for you in terms of your social life. The number of pitiful looks you've received, as well as "You can get through this," greetings from your fellow peers who played as protagonists, was astounding. On a normal day before, they would never have spared you a single glance unless they needed something. But now, you’ve practically become the center of their conversations.
And even at the very moment, you’ve got all their attention. One would think their stares were due to you wearing something obnoxious—but you were literally just trying to eat. You roll your eyes in annoyance.
So much for a good lunch.
"Maybe if you weren’t in such a critical situation right now, then they wouldn’t be eyeing you like a display," Seungmin commented from across the table. You threw some grains of rice towards him.
"Or, I don’t know, they could mind their own business?"
"As if that would ever happen," the son of the Queen of Hearts muttered. "They’d rather watch the world explode than pass on drama."
In a way, he was right. Storybook High was not just any normal school—it was also the center of gossip throughout the entire realm. As you were the next generation of citizens, the spotlight currently shines brightly on your generation.
Felix chuckled. "It’s funny to see how different the two sides view you." The reminder of the current unity status of the student body from the next Hansel (his mother is actually Gretel, but Felix’s cousin was a girl, so they agreed to switch) immediately sucked all the remaining life from your body. "The Royals pity you, while the Rebels are curious about where you stand."
The Royals and the Rebels.
Division between the student population had been at an all-time high ever since that little stunt Minho pulled on Legacy Day. What was once a peaceful crowd quickly developed into a dangerous war zone. Granted, the people’s divisions already existed even before the school was founded. The most obvious one was being sorted into "Protagonists," "Antagonists," and "Side Characters." But it looks like with the current rise in rebellion of teens who aren’t satisfied with their fates, a new division has arisen.
And it worsened with Minho’s refusal to sign his story.
You see, after the both of you left the hall to have your little "chat"—many of those who wanted to write a new destiny for themselves also refused to sign. These people, including Minho himself, are now classified as "Rebels." This placed them on the bad side of the (now called) "Royals", who wanted to follow their predetermined happily ever afters.
Not everyone opposing the Rebels is actually royalty, but the majority of them are. This was what earned the group's generalized title as "Royals." Although, some of the non-royalty protagonists took advantage of the opportunity to act like one. One of them is Yeri, Goldilocks' daughter—
"Hey Y/N!" You hear a familiar voice call out. Well, speak of the devil. Yeri happily rushes over to your current table, an action Hyunjin clearly did not appreciate. Oh, did you mention you were eating lunch with him? No? Good. He’s not that special anyway.
Deciding to be a decent person, you turned around and greeted the girl, "A pleasant day to you too, Yeri. What can I help you with?" Seungmin and Felix quickly followed up with their pleasantries, while Hyunjin only grunted as his greeting. If this jackass—
"Oh, yes certainly," she chirps joyfully. You kind of envy her personality. For being the next Snow White, you were nowhere near being as positive as your mother. You lightly smiled at Yeri for her to continue, "Well, you see, I’m writing a new scoop for my blog about Legacy Day! Could you be a dear and tell me what you think of what happened?"
Your smile vanishes in a flash.
Is this a joke? Why are they asking you, of all people? It’s either she’s completely clueless or this is a sick way of putting you down. The nerve of them to attempt to humiliate you like this.
Felix tries to intervene, seeing your reaction. "Yeri, actually—"
A sudden mocking laugh rang through your ears, successfully cutting Felix off. "Please, Yeri. You can interview me instead. Let’s leave little Snow White alone, yeah? She’s already dealing with so much!"
Seungmin didn’t even try to hide his distaste for the new face that entered the scene—a contrast to Hyunjin, who finally cracked a smile for the first time since he sat at the table.
Of course he would. The voice belonged to the one and only Mina. The daughter of the Swan Princess, now the Swan Queen.
Just great. What does she want now? You never knew what her problem was. She has always had a personal vendetta against you and is hellbent on making your life as miserable as possible. Not very successful, but bothersome nonetheless.
Right—she’s also the one dating Hyunjin. The awfully paired Prince Charming to your Snow White.
Your friends used to say that she was just jealous of you. And while there was a good percentage for that to be true, you personally think she’s just a shitty person in general. Her not-so-best reputation among the student body certainly backed that up. Her and Hyunjin suit each other, you thought to yourself.
"I’m so sorry, Y/N! I swear I didn’t mean to offend you," Yeri quickly apologized. Your head was slowly starting to hurt from all this dramatic nonsense. And unfortunately for you, Hyunjin finally decides to speak up, "Mina is right. Y/N must be having such a hard time, especially knowing her story might not happen anymore."
What the fuck. Is he for real?
Apparently he is, because he chose to leave your group at the table and walk away with the other two girls. Oh—would you look at that. Totally expected of him. You groaned as you rested your head on the lunch table.
"Why does he even decide to hang around us?" Seungmin scowled at Hyunjin’s retreating figure. "It’s not as if he likes any of us."
You poked at your tray with a spoon, "His parents probably forced him to because of me. Who knows, maybe they’re scary."
Hyunjin was… not necessarily a bad person. In the eyes of other people, he really wasn’t. He had a good reputation amongst your peers (a stark contrast to his girlfriend), and was often called the "ideal prince." Yet, for some reason you can’t understand, he was nothing less than a pain for you and your friends.
"Until now, I don’t get his issue. You haven’t been treating him half as bad as he does to you," Felix sips on his juice. "Is the idea of kissing you in a casket that nightmare inducing for him? You’re literally the one dying, Y/N."
From the very start, you knew Hyunjin did not like that he was the assigned prince to you. He never explained why though, and you always thought it was because, ironically, he likes apples. You’re honestly surprised he even signed his story! For the longest time, you believed he was going to end up siding with the Rebels.
Well, to be fair, he is still a prince destined for a happy ending—no matter the partner assigned to him. Maybe he also couldn’t give up the luxury. Or like you, believed that he would disappear too. All valid reasons in your book.
Speaking of Rebels, you lifted your head to look at Minho’s direction. You’ve noticed him sitting near the window since lunch started, and the sight of him alone made your heart ache with worry. From what you’ve seen, people have been avoiding him like the plague ever since the Legacy Day incident happened. Aside from when he was with his friends, all others who refused to sign their stories, Minho was seen on his own for the most part.
You were well aware that a lot of Royals had been badmouthing him intensely too. The complete opposite to the pity treatment you’ve been receiving, even though you knew they could care less. And to be honest, it’d be better if they actually acted that way instead.
"Jeez, look over there," Felix whispered. "A Royal table and a Rebel table are arguing."
How amusing. It looks like you really owe Minho an apology. He was right about most of the Royals. One of the only exceptions would probably be your friends and Jisung. He was genuinely worried enough to tell you that he was willing to be your prince instead, if Hyunjin (his best friend, by the way. How that happened, you would never know.) was ever planning on flaking out. You politely declined him, though. Your stories would clash too much. After all, he was the main protagonist of his own story too—being the son of the Frog Prince and all. The poor guy also had a massive hopeless crush on Pinocchio’s daughter.
Back to Minho, the two of you haven’t spoken for the past week. The dorm room both of you shared became too quiet, not a single word being uttered throughout the hours it was occupied. And whenever you did try to talk to him, he would simply ignore you, even leaving the room if it wasn't yet past curfew.
Maybe you should try it now?
"Hey," you tried to get your two friends’ attention, "Should I talk to Minho?"
Seungmin peeled his eyes away from the fight that was occurring a few tables away. "Go for it? You’ve been all mopey and sad for the past week. It’s about time you and him made up." Felix agreed with a short nod.
"Alright, wish me luck."
Deciding to test the waters, you stood up from your seat. The nerves are starting to form, and the words you wanted to say are lost in the sea of your thoughts once again. Taking a deep breath, you told yourself you could do it.
It was just Minho, after all. You two are close friends, right? Even though you’re supposed to be enemies in front of everyone else, of course. Talking to him shouldn’t be this hard. It’s all in your head, Y/N. You can do it.
Now—okay, maybe not.
As soon as you finally get the courage to move, you spot his friends approaching him. It looks like you lost your chance again. He would surely use his friends as an excuse to avoid you. Running your hand through your hair, you backed out of your plan right away and sat down.
Felix snorted, "Too late, huh?"
You’ll just have to talk to him soon.
Minho was not in class.
Normally, this fact wouldn’t bother you too much—but it was currently culinary class. His favorite class out of them all.
Other students knew of this fact too. And while they used to think it was because he was secretly determined to successfully poison you in the future, you knew that it was just because he genuinely liked cooking. So the mere fact that he wasn’t anywhere to be seen at that moment concerned you greatly.
Chan, your cooking partner for this session, took notice of your fidgety actions. "Are you okay?" he asked. "You look really anxious. Is it perhaps because of me?" His question surprised you.
What? Why would you be—oh. Chan was someone who sided with the rebels. He was good friends with Minho too, the two of them sharing the same sentiment of not wanting to be antagonists in anyone’s lives. You knew being told to be the next Big Bad Wolf hadn't been an easy task for him. And because you're technically a royal, he might be thinking you despise his guts as well.
"Oh, not at all! I’m so sorry... I’m just concerned about Minho," he hums at your answer. Taking out the chopping board, he replies, "Is it because he’s not here? Yeah, I could totally relate to your thought process. Shocked the heck out of me too, actually."
You nod aggressively, "Exactly! He never skips culinary class. There was this one time when he was having such a bad headache, yet still insisted on attending this class for that day."
In general, it was quite unlikely for Minho to skip any classes at all. He was someone who valued education and was very vocal about it. That, and something about not wanting to act like his mother when she was still in school. Minho was determined to be a model student, proving to others that he was nowhere near evil.
"Yeah, it sounds like him alright," Chan says, laughing. "Who knows? Maybe he’s just really tired today." You think carefully about his words.
It was a reasonable guess, but Minho? Too tired to cook? Unheard of! Unless he’s really sick and can’t attend the class because of the health protocols. He seemed okay this morning, though? Sure, you can’t really tell since the both of you haven’t interacted in a while (you should really try talking to him again, it’s been 3 days since the cafeteria attempt), and you only had this class together for this year—
Wait a minute.
You only shared culinary class with him this year? He—he couldn’t have avoided this class because it was the only class you two had together, right? He wouldn’t go as far as skipping his favorite class just to avoid you?
News flash, Y/N. He totally could. And that’s most likely what happened.
You huffed at the pettiness of the idea. If he doesn’t want you to convince him to sign the book that badly, then you won’t! Like it’d even matter at this point. Too much damage has already been done.
The look on your face must’ve been clear as day, because you hear Chan sigh from beside you. You flushed in embarrassment. While chopping the carrot, Chan decides to break the silence. "You think he’s avoiding you, huh?" he said, as you gave him a short nod. "Did he tell you that?"
"No, not really," you awkwardly responded. "We—we haven’t been talking."
Chan starts aggressively chopping, "Minho, that idiot. I told him to talk to you!" You stopped steering the soup you two were working on. The volume of his sigh worsened. You couldn’t help but snicker at his obvious stress.
"That guy really," he said, finishing up. "Don’t worry, Y/N. He’ll come around soon. He just needs more time to think."
Time to think... He had a point. Maybe you needed time to think too.
For the past few days, you’ve been really preoccupied with the relationship between you and Minho, along with the growing suspicion that the Royals were starting to outcast you (their pity phase must be over now). Because of that, you haven’t had the luxury of really thinking about everything. From the events that happened on Legacy Day to figuring out what you actually believed in—there was still a lot to unpack.
But before you could completely immerse yourself in your mind, panicked squeals diverted your attention to the cooking booth right beside Chan and yours—where two of your classmates were rummaging around in an attempt to stop the boiling pot from spilling over.
"Uh, hey Chan, can you help?" Changbin, the Mad Hatter’s son, awkwardly calls out. Right beside him was a malfunctioning Jeongin, seemingly under more stress than the former. Chan’s eyes widened, "What did you even do?"
"It was Jeongin’s idea!" Changbin whined to your partner. The mentioned guy protests, "It was clearly a joke! I didn’t think you would actually do it!"
Ah—the son of the Cheshire Cat causes mischief once again.
Groaning, Chan turns to look at you. "Sorry Y/N, can you handle the soup first? I’ll just help them real quick," you give him a thumbs up, "Thanks. Just put the ones I chopped in the pot, then stir until cooked." You did exactly as you were told. While waiting for the soup to cook, you decided to take the opportunity and start what you should’ve done earlier.
First of all, Legacy Day.
At first, you were terrified that Minho had finalized his stance that he wouldn’t follow his story. All your life, you were led to believe that following one’s destiny was the only way to continue living. You never questioned it as a result—it was quite straightforward anyway. Signing the Book of Legends was a life or death situation. And as a young child, disappearing so early in life was not the most appealing concept.
But that belief was shattered on Legacy Day, along with the magic mirrors that surrounded the hall. You and Minho didn’t fade away. Heck, even Hyunjin didn’t fade away, and he was supposed to be tied to both of your stories too!
So what does that mean to you?
Simple. Your life was a lie.
The whole "follow the destiny given to you" was full of crap, and you can’t believe you let yourself be trapped in that mindset for too long. In the first place, you never even wanted to be the next Snow White. No matter how many times your parents made the concept sound appealing, you just never understood the reason why you had to be poisoned and then saved by a prince. With a kiss too? Magic existed here, yes, but was that really enough to get rid of literal poison?
Plus, if the kiss needed to be from true love, then you were damned from the start—there was no way Hyunjin would end up loving you enough for that to work. And you’d really rather not touch his plump lips. If you did, Mina just might stab you in your casket, successfully killing you for a second time in a row.
It’d be "Snow White: Bad Ending" for that one.
If you really thought about it, the only other reason you signed the book was for Minho. Aside from your own life, you cared a lot about his too. Minho was your best friend, your partner, and an overall important person to you. If him living meant you had to throw away your freedom, then so be it. You won’t let Minho vanish from this world wrongfully.
You loved him too much for that.
Love. Certainly, a strong word. You still don’t know what kind of love you held for the son of the Evil Queen exactly, but you knew you did love him. Did he feel the same too? You hoped so. If his words from Legacy Day spoke any truth, then he did care about you a lot. What he did contradicted your survival plan for the both of you, but from his point of view, it was also his way of protecting you and him.
So then, where do you stand?
It’s—it’s hard to decide at the moment. On one hand, you had the life you were conditioned to have growing up, and on the other hand, it was where you could be free. Saying it was comfort versus your dream would be an understatement. And while you wanted to dream as much as the Rebels did, that life hasn’t been proven to be very stable yet in your eyes.
Maybe you could just wait a bit more to choose. You wanted to talk to Minho first and see what he had to say. But so far—you think you might be on the verge of regretting ever signing your fate.
"Uh... Y/N," Chan said, tapping your shoulder and jolting you out of your thoughts. "The soup might be cooked already."
You gasped, "Oh, right! My bad, Chan." He waved away your apology, "Nah, it’s all good. Just turn the fire off and I’ll plate the soup." He started placing the bowls down.
Glancing over at Changbin and Jeongin’s side, you just now realized they were gone. "What did they go?" you ask. Chan grimaced at his friends’ situation. "Got called by the teacher. They’re probably getting scolded outside." You cringed.
"That’s… unfortunate."
Culinary class ended not long after.
The regret of having signed the book was getting stronger, alright.
Walking down the school corridors, the difference between the Royals and the Rebels suddenly seems more evident to your observing eyes. It was the hour right after the last classes ended, meaning everyone would be gathered in the halls. Students were all leaving classrooms, organizing their lockers, and conversing with friends—something you couldn’t do because Seungmin had choir practice, while Felix was off to the library.
In all your eighteen years of living, never once have you felt as painfully uncomfortable as at this very moment. It was like someone had pulled the blindfold that you had been forced to wear all the way back to when you were still a kid.
So what was this jarring difference between the two sides, you asked?
The Royals were unapologetically shitting on the Rebels while the latter minded their own business. How surprising, right? And even with people hovering over their backs for the most part, they were still the ones with wide smiles and exciting chatter—meanwhile the opposite side that was too busy pampering themselves, still found the time and need to sneer at any Rebel who passed by. You winced at their actions, genuinely ashamed.
God forbid that you had acted like they did before. Even though you knew you weren’t half as bad as them because of befriending Minho, there was still a big chance you had those moments unconsciously. And you hated that thought. It’s absolutely detestable! Downright vile! The Rebels just wanted their chances of living happily ever after too. What was so wrong with that?
It was at that moment that you realized that the influence ran deep. That there was some sort of ‘worthy’ and ‘not worthy’ mindset that plagued the protagonists’ side of the division—even through the peace that you thought the school had before. As someone who was also exposed to that lifestyle since you were born, you could see where they were coming from, but at the same time, you were highly repulsed by the thought. The list of things you wanted to tell Minho grew longer by the second you stayed in this hallway.
You sped away from the scene, deciding to head to the school balconies. You figured studying with a good view would keep your thoughts at bay for a while. If you spent another minute in the midst of all that, you would probably end up choosing to resign your crown at the next possible moment. And you didn’t want to do something too life-changing impulsively. Turning the corner to reach your destination, the sudden sight caught you off guard.
It was Hyunjin and Mina. Making out in broad daylight, without shame.
They were hidden by the pillars that stood as support for the entryway of the balconies. But you could still see them very clearly from where you stood. You doubt they could see you, though. Whether it was because you were well hidden, or they were too engrossed in sucking each other's faces—you really didn’t want to know.
Admittedly, there was a part of you that wanted to earn Hyunjin’s affection. He was to be your husband, after all. It was only natural to want a marriage with love, or at the very least, respect. But out of everything, you could never blame Hyunjin for liking someone else. You even supported him, even if his girlfriend was someone who you could never stand to be in the same room with. Anyone should be able to love who they want to, as well as marry who they want to, responsibly. Not some nonsense book about those who came before you—
Holy shit. Your life is so fucked.
You were the one being told who to love and marry by that book. The one whose life is to be lived and told through a script. The situation you were trapped in had never been clearer than at this very moment, and it crashed on you like that one little pig’s pile of bricks.
Silent tears flowed out of your eyes as you thought of the future. Happily ever after, your ass. You're going to be married to an asshole who can’t even respect you as a prospective wife who’s in the same boat as him, and would rather choose someone else over you! Not to mention, he has to bring you back from the dead first—what if he takes the chance and just leaves you to rot? Where's the happy ending in that?
Through a watery vision, you noticed your sight suddenly dimming as you felt a hand softly wrap around your eyes, blocking your view of the couple. The sudden force caused your back to collide against a strong chest. A sudden action, but you didn’t scream. Because you recognized that scent right away.
"You big baby. If you hate it that much, why’d you sign the book?"
It’s Minho.
God, you missed his voice. It feels like it’s been forever. Feeling the relief of having him close again on top of your devastation for the future, you felt yourself starting to cry harder. He sighed at your tears, deciding to drag you away from the balconies.
"Seriously, Y/N. You have to stop pining after him. It’s not even worth it," he snarkily comments. While messily wiping your tears, you let out a small laugh. "I’m not." You both came to a stop in the middle of an empty corridor.
Finally, he turns to face you. Rolling his eyes playfully, he started wiping the remaining tears from your face. "You are such a big baby," he says, to which you slap his chest lightly, "I’m not!"
He squished your cheeks in response to your protest. "Look at you, saying the same thing over and over again like a child," he cooed. Slapping his chest more strongly, he coughed out a wail of complaint.
"What? So you're finally deciding to talk to me now?" You glared at him. Those words seemed to get through to Minho, because he started rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly.
Diverting eye contact, he replies, "Yeah, about that—I’m really sorry."
You looked at him, not convinced in the slightest. "Did Chan talk to you?" you asked. The guy did say he told Minho to talk to you. Maybe Minho finally took his advice after another round of suggestions.
It turns out the answer to your question looked like a no, because he seemed genuinely confused at what you said. "... No? Why?"
Shaking your head, you waved him off. But Minho, being Minho, decided to dig deeper into the topic. "Did you two talk about me? What did you say?" he pressed further. Glaring at him, you pushed past him and started walking down the corridor. He trailed you like a lost puppy.
"Y/N, come on," he says, grabbing your waist and pulling you both to a halt. The gesture left you absolutely speechless. "What’d you say about me, hm?" he whispered in your ear.
Feeling steam rushing out of your ears, you immediately pulled away. He laughs at your flustered face. "Why would you—what?" You started rambling more random words, "Minho!"
"Yes, that’s me," he jested. After seeing the amusement on his face, you quickly composed yourself. What is up with him today? Sure, he was normally playful, but not like this! You don’t think this Minho was good for your heart—if the way it was racing indicated anything severe.
Minho crossed his arms, frowning a bit. "Why are you so secretive about it? Did you both talk shit about me?" he raised an eyebrow in suspicion. You shook your head to deny his claim, "Not at all. We just talked about why you weren’t in culinary class earlier." His shoulders seemed to sag in relief.
It's not like you’d ever talk bad about him in the first place.
"Ah that," he started, "I was called to the principal’s office." The revelation has you startled. Why was he called in there? Are they expelling him? No way! They can’t do that! That’s absurd—
At your alarmed reaction, he immediately grabbed your shoulders and assured you, "Hey, hey. It’s not anything bad, I promise, okay?" He waited until you were able to compile your thoughts. You gazed into his eyes to see if he was telling the truth. And just as he said, his pretty eyes held no lies.
"Then... why were you called then?" you asked. He visibly cringed at the question. Upon seeing his response, you quickly connected the dots and trapped him in a tight hug. Minho was not someone who made a big deal of most things that happened, so earning this kind of reaction from him could mean one thing: "Did—did they make you talk to her?"
His head dipping into the crook of your neck weakly was enough to tell you that your assumption had been correct. The school had pulled out the mirror that the Evil Queen was imprisoned in and made him talk to her. This now showed the school’s stance on the issue to you.
They were not taking Minho’s rebellion positively in the slightest.
Pulling him closer, you comforted him in the same way you’ve done multiple times before. As one would have deduced from seeing this side of Minho, he and his mother did not have a good relationship. She was the face of evil, someone who was truly rotten to the core. Minho wanted to be nothing like her. And he damn made sure of that. Unlike her, Minho was determined to live as a good citizen of the magical world. That alone made him stronger than most of the heroes you knew.
He started shifting in your embrace. You instantly knew he was about to say something. "Y/N, can you answer me seriously?" he asked softly. Nodding, you kept holding him. "Why did you actually sign the book?"
You paused for a moment, thinking about your true answer seriously. The two of you had to have this talk sooner or later. It was the main source of your conflict, the reason for all the days spent avoiding each other. Not addressing it would just be pushing aside the topic until it explodes again. So you prepared yourself for what's to come.
"I didn’t want to lose you."
Your honest words infuriated Minho, "So you’re willing to live a life you don’t want just so I won’t disappear!?" He pulled away from your embrace. You could only look at him with blank eyes. What could you even say to that? Correcting him would not do anything.
Because he was completely right.
"Why are you mad? You’re also the one who refused to sign the book because you would rather die than hurt me," you pointed out the hypocrisy behind his words. "You were so willing to sacrifice yourself so that I could live safely. So why can’t I do that too?"
"Y/N, that’s not the same—"
"I told you we could have still made it work even if we both signed the book. You know that too."
"You know I can’t—"
"Why?" you whimpered, feeling the dam of your tears starting to break once again. This was way too many mood swings in a day for your liking. You don’t think you could take any more crying after this. "Just like you’re afraid of fate tying you to end up hurting me, I’m scared of it taking you away from me too! So tell me, what exactly is the difference, Minho?"
This got him to think for a second, the gears in his head turning and twisting to make sense of what you had just uttered. And when he finally reached a conclusion, his eyes widened in shock. It looks like you have both finally reached common ground.
It was his turn to hug you tightly now, frantically apologizing for the way he acted. "You're such an idiot," you muttered into his chest. He simply agreed with you. "I’m sorry too."
"I know. I already forgive you."
"And I’m sorry for Legacy Day. The thought that you could disappear at any moment and I’d never see you again blinded me. I wasn’t even thinking twice about what I was saying at the moment. I—I also didn’t want to go," you sniffled. "It’s just that I really believed that we had to sign to—"
"You don’t have to explain. It’s okay, I understand now." Minho shushed you. "I was in the wrong too. Emotions just got to the best of me, so I lashed out. I’ve had time to think though, and you just gave me another realization earlier too."
The both of you simply wanted the best for the other in the only way you knew how. Unfortunately, your methods were completely different. But that doesn’t change the fact that all you both wished for was each other's safety, and this was just one big misunderstanding.
"Are we okay now?" You asked hopefully.
"Yeah."
And that was all you needed to hear.
The same night Minho was called to the principal’s office, your parents contacted you through your mirror phone—demanding that you convince Minho to change his mind. You were so tired from the flurry of emotions you went through for the day that you merely responded that you would, not even meaning what you said.
That seemed to please them, though, since they immediately said goodbyes with their usual overly affectionate tone—which, after your big realization, sounded a lot more artificial than you remembered.
Great. Now you’re even questioning your own parents’ love.
Your exhausted groan simply received a raised eyebrow from Minho, who was minding his own business at his side of the room. "Looks like you’ll be back to convincing me to be your Evil King again?" he snickered in the background.
Flopping (not-so-gracefully) on your bed, you let out a whine of annoyance. "No, but I don’t want to deal with them right now."
Minho hums in agreement, "I don’t blame you. Seeing as you cried two times in the span of 30 minutes earlier," his joking tone was not lost on you, however, so you just laughed the comment off.
"Fuck you, really."
He lets out an exaggerated gasp. After directing an eye roll towards him, you stood up to enter the bathroom. "Since when did you curse?" he inquires excitedly, like a kid asking if they could buy something. You reached for the toothpaste, "I actually curse a lot in my mind. I just don’t use it out loud because they told me that it was unbecoming of a princess to do so." He couldn’t see you, but you were making that air quote gesture.
"Use it more around me, it sounds nice."
"It's foul words, Minho," you said, voice muffled by the toothpaste foam, "And I doubt it actually sounds nice."
When silence was all you got back, you scoffed in annoyance. He was so petty at times. You took a bit more time in the bathroom, doing what was needed for your night routine. Minho hasn’t made a noise for a while now, so you let yourself think he’s knocked out cold. After rinsing your mouth one last time, you get ready to leave the bathroom.
You really should’ve seen what was coming.
"Boo," Minho says, suddenly appearing right beside you. You quickly suppressed the urge to scream in consideration of the rooms right beside yours. Irritated, you yell, "What the hell!"
Unbeknownst to you, that was his plan all along.
"Another swear!" Oh, of course he would. You wanted to be mad, but found your anger dissipating instead. The sparkle in his eyes, hearing you curse once again, was too adorable for you to stand.
Minho spent the rest of the night teaching you more swear words. It was unnecessary, but you let him do it. You have been waiting to talk to him for days now—and you surely won’t let this go to waste.
The next couple of days were an absolute nightmare, though. Good things come with a price, you guess. This had to be the world’s way of making you pay back the luck you spent in trying to reconcile with Minho.
Mina has been constantly going after you again, with a passion to humiliate your whole being. Other Royals have been pulling you aside to ask for updates on Minho’s decision to sign the book, to which you only politely smiled at them and left. Oh, if you could only sneer back at them like they’d been doing to him. But with the little restraint you had left, you remembered that most of the student body didn’t actually know you and Minho were good friends (it was Minho’s idea back in second grade—something about you not getting targeted).
And above all that, you had your parents spamming your mirror phone every hour of the day to remind you about the task they gave you. No matter how many times you told them that Minho would not be changing his mind, they kept on insisting.
"No one would say no to you, Y/N! You’re the next Snow White!" your mother states, as if that would change anything at all. Your eye felt the need to twitch as her reminder. "He won’t. Plus, you’re the one who told me not to befriend him. Now you expect him to go along with what I say?" you reasoned.
"This isn’t a yes or no situation, darling. He has to do it."
No he doesn’t.
"Enough, mom. It won’t happen," you tried to keep your tone as respectful as possible. "I have a class soon; let’s talk some other time."
"Applebun—" you hung up the phone.
Gripping the device tightly, you let your locker close with a bang. Multiple eyes turn in your direction. You gave them an apologetic gesture. Shoot—if you don’t control your emotions soon, it’s going to affect you in class.
"Oh? Did little Snow White just have a tantrum? How disappointing that I missed it," Mina’s shrill voice rang through the halls. Her heels are loudly clicking against the floor, cutting you from your thoughts. She really never misses a beat, huh? It was annoying, but you had to praise her for her consistency.
Pasting on a practiced grin, you faced her. "Good day to you too, Mina. Looks like Hyunjin isn’t with you right now," you commented. "Did he finally get tired of you?"
You fought the urge to snicker as soon as you saw the effect this had on her. With a huff, she replies, "He has something to do right now but will meet me for lunch. Right, did he not tell you? We’re eating lunch together from now on. He doesn’t really want to be seen with you anymore." Oh, a decent insult!
Deciding to keep the retort to yourself, you just shrugged it off nonchalantly. "Good for both of you. Have fun!" you cheerfully responded, before walking past her.
"Wha—you!"
Y/N-1, Mina-0. You mentally counted.
Turning the corner, you spot Minho leaning against the wall, back hunched from silently wheezing. "Seriously," you exhaled, "Why are you suddenly everywhere now?" After finishing his quick laughing fit, he turned to look at you.
"She deserved it," he commented. You stared at him, unamused. "Of course you would think that." You felt a few gazes directed at the two of you.
Right, this might be an odd sight for them.
If you think about it, what's the point of hiding now? Minho won’t sign his fate, so yours might have been changed. So, does that mean you can be friends in public now too? Should you test it out?
"Y/N, are you alright?" Minho worried.
You eyed your surroundings carefully. This could end up badly if you don’t do it correctly. There was a big chance either that Minho’s reputation could worsen, or the Royals would decide to hate you—ah fuck it.
They can go cry about it if they want.
Grabbing his hand, you started leading the both of you down the halls. He looked at you in shock, "Wait, what are you doing?" The Royals, who saw your exchange, left their mouths open like a gaping fish. On the other hand, you noticed the Rebels' eyes light up with interest. Minho also spotted this, but before he could say anything else, you dragged him away faster.
"Don’t mind them. Let’s just head to class. It’s culinary."
And while you felt significantly lighter at that moment from the burden of hiding your relationship with Minho being off your shoulders, the consequences followed up soon after.
By the time the moon said its greetings, your parents had already heard of what happened. Whoever snitched worked fast. But at least you now have the opportunity to tell them the truth about you and Minho.
Your parents’ lectures engulfed the whole room while Minho sat beside you for emotional support. "What are you doing, making friends with the enemy? Do you have any ounce of shame!?" Your father’s booming voice was heard.
Maybe you really don’t have any shame. You were so grateful that they even chose to voice call instead of a video chat—if your parents saw Minho holding your hand beside you whilst glaring at the window in an attempt to still leave respect for them, they would have freaked past no return.
"I knew the school shouldn’t have placed both of you together in one room. Nothing good was ever going to come out of that situation," your mother ranted. Is she really saying that now? She was the one who told you it was natural to be dormmates with Minho back then. Then again, it wasn’t the first time she changed her mind when the result didn't benefit her.
After a short pause, she spoke up again, "What? So you’re not answering now? Oh, honey! That guy is such a bad influence. How did we let this happen?"
Could they not? They talk as if they’ve already met him!
Feeling Minho give your hand a squeeze, you got the courage to speak up. "...You don’t know him. He’s nothing like his mother, so stop saying that," your unsteady voice spoke. Answering back to your parents was never an easy thing for you to do. "Minho’s a great—uh, friend. He helped me realize that there was so much more than just trapping yourself in a predetermined future. I actually—I don’t even want to be Snow White..."
Your parents were silenced by what you had just said. "What do you mean you don’t want to be Snow White? Why not? Your life is already set for you! You’ll marry Hyunjin too—"
"Hyunjin already has a girlfriend. I’m not sure how you two never knew that, but he doesn’t even like me! Like, at all! Good for you that your pairing worked out well, but I’ve tried for years to get him to respect me even as a friend—but it never happened, and probably never will," you desperately explain.
"At this point, I’d rather marry Minho!"
The person mentioned visibly stiffened up beside you, the hand holding yours tightening. You felt your face flush in embarrassment. In the heat of the moment, you blurted out your thoughts carelessly. You hoped this wouldn’t cause a rift in your relationship with him again, because you’re not too sure if you can handle another week of Minho ignoring you.
But you meant what you said.
That’s right. You would rather marry Minho than some ‘ideal prince’ who can’t even treat you like a decent person.
In fact, married life with Minho doesn’t sound bad at all! If anything, you were actually willing to do it if he agreed. It was something you had considered before—a few years back, when you had a massive crush on him. Perhaps the crush never even went away like you had thought. You might have just gotten used to him to the point that what you felt evolved from just a crush to comfort and trust. Who could blame you, really? He’s kind, fun, knows you well, can cook, and is even handsome. He could easily be one of the top Prince Charmings in this school if given the chance.
"I know you just want the best for me—or even if you don't, I can’t find myself caring anymore. But basically, what I think is best for me is not marrying Hyunjin, or being Snow White," you spoke. "I’m already eighteen. Can I please have the chance to choose for myself? Minho won’t sign the Book of Legends either way, so my story might not even turn out the same."
"Choose your own destiny? You already have a good one—"
"Honey," your mother interjects, "It's a scary world out there. There will be lots of people who want to hurt you!"
You sigh, "Yes, Mom, I know. And I’ll figure something out along the way. But can’t you stop to think that maybe those same people didn’t have any other choice because they were bound to the fate they signed? They deserved the right to choose who they truly wanted to be too."
There was the sound of shifting from the other line. You knew your parents would be hard to convince, but it was worth a shot. This was for the better. It would be great if they managed to spread awareness to the older generation as well.
"Your father and I will think about it," you hear your mother cough. Hope sparked inside you. "Thank you, Mom."
"Sure, sweetie. Talk to you soon."
The line falls flat after that.
Exhausted from the mental gymnastics you had to perform, you immediately melt into Minho’s shoulder. When he doesn’t say anything, you finally realize that he hasn’t moved an inch since you said you’d rather marry him than your assigned prince. "Minho?" you nudged.
He finally snaps out of the trance he trapped himself in, but chooses to stare at you silently. You tilt your head in confusion and ask, "Are you alright?"
"... Marriage?" he squeaked out.
Oh. Does he not like the idea of marrying you?
You sulked. Sure, you weren’t exactly what they called wife material. Growing up as royalty meant you had other people to do things for you. However, you also prided yourself on being a quick learner. If Minho wants someone that knows how to do house chores, then you are more than willing to learn!
He must have noticed your mood going down, because he started panicking. "No—I, uh, didn’t mean it... like that," he reasoned, "I was just caught off guard! People don’t really look at me and think that I’d make a good husband, y’know?"
You slapped his arm harshly. He complained almost instantly at the pain.
"You absolute liar! You’d rival Hyunjin’s rank easily if you were classified as a Prince Charming," you huffed in protest. He turns red at the compliment. Feeling accomplished but wanting to mess with him more, you decided to add: "Don’t sign up for Prince classes though."
Offended, he retorts, "Why not? You just told me I’d be a good prince!"
"I want you to be my prince only," you replied in a casual tone.
Minho’s face burned even brighter.
There was definitely a difference in the way the Royals treated you the next day. Word travels fast, but their attitudes switch up faster. It wasn’t like you really cared. Most of them chose to avoid you completely, while some were very vocal about their newfound hatred towards you.
And as you predicted, Mina was the ringleader of the latter group.
"How interesting, isn’t it, Y/N? Snow White and the Evil King, together?" She approached you at your locker, "Do you have a death wish or something? Or maybe your standards have just fallen so low?"
You didn’t want to waste your words on her, so you preoccupied yourself with fixing your textbooks. It’s no use anyway. Anything you say will just go in one ear and out the other when it comes to her. However, that reaction didn’t seem to satisfy her enough because she poked at you further.
"So we’re right then? Ah, but I must say, you two make such a great couple! Two poor souls who lost their stories. How tragic," you clenched your teeth to avoid accidentally laying a hand on her, because that would just cause unnecessary drama. "You’re still lucky to be alive. I wonder how long it’s going to take before life gives up on both of you—either way, it looks like fate already did."
You slammed your locker closed, making a startling noise. Mina jumped at your actions before quickly composing herself to appear more confident. You’ve had enough of her antics.
"Did anyone ever tell you how annoying your voice is? No? Oh, well. Can you just do us all a favor and shut up? You never even say anything important, so just save your breath for something that’s actually worth it."
"I’m sorry?"
"Not forgiven. But it’s about time you apologized," you sassed.
Mina’s face flushed with anger. Threateningly raising her arm, she aimed to hit you. "You’re nothing now, Y/N. So learn your place—" you shut your eyes instinctively, waiting for the impact.
As much as you wanted to fight back physically, you were currently at a major disadvantage with the school now that you’ve exposed your friendship with Minho. They’ve most likely classified you as a threat now too. It was better to take the slap and leave Mina with the bigger accountability to deal with.
You waited for it, but the slap never came.
"Mina, you are so pathetic. Do you know that?" A voice you knew very well spoke. "Have some shame and look at your actions, will you. Is all of it worth it?" You opened your eyes.
"Get your hands off my girl, Minho," Hyunjin arrived growling while trying to get in between the two. Minho released the grip he had on Mina’s arm. Scoffing, he responded, "Now you’re here too? Tell us, won't you, Hyunjin? How long will you keep defending her actions? She’s going to end up severely hurting someone if this continues." Hyunjin started shifting uncomfortably.
He should know better than to let this continue. Mina isn’t a notorious bully, but she should learn to be more responsible for her actions. Sooner or later, her attitude might be her greatest downfall. Mina glared hotly at Minho, absolutely livid.
In the midst of the two’s humiliation, you noticed a crowd around the four of you. You were glad to know that they have nothing else to do than eavesdrop on any kind of drama. But before you could speak out to the impromptu audience, a blinding flash suddenly stole all the attention. You spotted Yeri standing in the front of the group, shaking with wide eyes while holding her mirror phone up.
Did she just take a photo?
Quickly realizing the situation, Hyunjin dragged a still fuming Mina away. Minho noticed this and yelled, "Get back here!" You quickly pull him back before he ends up chasing after them. "What—Y/N!"
"Leave it."
"What do you mean leave it—no? They’ve crossed so many lines," he seethed in anger. Seeing the crowd still present, you decide to escape as well. "We’ll deal with it some other time. But first, let’s get out of here."
You found yourself dragging Minho down the hall again like yesterday. Only this time, he was burning with fury. It wasn’t always that you got to witness him being this mad. Normally, he calms down faster than he becomes agitated. You were embarrassed to admit that you found Minho's rage attractive.
The two of you entered the lawns of the school garden, where you decided to stop and let him cool down. Minho was still huffing in quiet anger at the two schoolmates you encountered earlier.
"Stop frowning," you said, pinching his cheeks. Minho growls, not appreciating the gesture. It looks like he’s still in a bad mood. Not wanting to make it worse, you slowly let go of him.
Turns out he did not like that, though, because he quickly catches one of your hands and presses it back to the side of his face. "Why did you not fight back? You handled her so well before." The gesture made your heart swell.
"If my parents are now aware that we’re not actually on bad terms, then the school must be too," you sighed, "Adding the fact that I’ve already told them I don’t want to follow my story, if things escalated to the point where we had to be called in earlier, they’re definitely going to side with Mina."
"Is this about me again? You signed the book; it was me who didn’t—"
"I regret it."
Minho spluttered at your words, "Wait, what?" You avoided his surprised eyes. This was something you hadn’t told him yet. Well, anyone yet—you only came to the conclusion last night while talking to your parents.
"I know you said you didn’t want to be Snow White, but you never said you regretted signing," he says. You hugged your arms, "I never said I really wanted to either. It was just something I thought was a necessity. But now that it’s been proven the whole sign or die thing was a big hoax, I wish I hadn’t."
You looked at Minho, greatly troubled. "Honestly? I’m scared. I know I’ve been saying that since you won’t sign anyway, my story won’t happen the way it was supposed to—but just like everything else, we don’t know if that’s even true too," you bit your lip in distress, "What if fate just replaces your role with another person? Did I really trap myself in a scripted future?"
All the flaws in your previous plan started to surface without mercy. It could work in another timeline, one where Minho had signed the book. But seeing that he hasn’t, what happens to you now? Would the legacy just adjust and take Minho out of it completely? Is that what they actually meant by your story disappearing?
Will you somehow end up forgetting Minho?
The mere thought of that alone terrorizes you. A life without Minho would be meaningless by your standards. He was the person who brought color to your monochrome life of royalty and bettered you as a person. Forgetting him would be equivalent to going back to that way of living.
"Y/N," Minho called out softly. The sea of your thoughts were raging with all sorts of negativity, making his heart ache for you. "Like you said, we’ll find a way even if you sealed your fate, okay? I’ll be here with you every step of the way."
"But what if—"
"None of that," he said firmly. "I’m not leaving you alone, whether you like it or not."
You exhaled, trying to calm yourself. He’s right. The two of you can still be together if you really want to. Fate can just suck it up and deal with it.
Fuck being Snow White anyways.
"I hate apples," you grumbled. Minho laughs at your remark, knowing exactly what you meant. "I know. So you don’t have to be Snow White around me," he cups your face gently.
"Just be my Y/N."
"What do you mean the Book of Legends was stolen!?" A loud yell full of disbelief was heard throughout the entire cafeteria. The whole area went dead silent faster than the prideful hare. You stopped scooping up your food midway, watching as Seungmin and Felix both look at each other with wide eyes.
What?
"Changbin, seriously!" Jeongin’s mortified voice echoed in the quiet room. The students were all frozen in their respective spots, trying to process the information that had just dropped on them. What was supposed to be a normal lunch suddenly transformed into a time of anxiety.
"... Are you for real?" Someone asked the two troublemakers. "This isn’t another prank, right? Cause that’s not a good thing to joke about," they said icily.
The Book of Legends is missing? What madman would have the courage to do such a risky thing? That book is the center of this world—a relic if one must say. To harm it would most likely result in a mass extinction of people!
A crash was heard a few meters from where you sat. Someone had fainted and knocked the whole table over. Multiple people were trying to help the unconscious student out of the mess.
"I—uh, well..." Jeongin started. All eyes were on the guy as he stood there, fidgeting nervously. Deciding to get it over with, he cleared his throat and continued, "I was passing by the Principal’s office and overheard it..."
Cue chaos.
Murmurs of panic covered the whole cafeteria. Everyone was worried about what could possibly happen if the book was ever in the wrong hands.
It was a powerful object that could change lives in an instant. Fate and legacy are strong concepts in this world, after all. They're literally the foundation of your society.
"Is this really happening?" Felix said, looking very queasy. Seungmin scooted away from him instantly. "Control yourself, Felix. You don’t want to puke right now."
"Who could have done it?" You thought out loud, "And why? There’s nothing to gain from taking the book, right? Unless you’re a psychopath who wants to destroy the world."
Seungmin looks at you appalled. "Why are you thinking about mass murder?"
"I don’t know! There’s literally no other reason to steal the book! It’s not as if you can erase the signatures of those who... signed…" A realization hit the three of you.
Felix gasped in shock. "Is that even possible?" He questioned. Seungmin considered the idea. "There’s magic here, Felix. Technically, anything is possible."
"But the worst thing is that it might not even stop there," he added. "There may be a loophole in which you can sign another person’s story and make it yours." The idea concerned you heavily.
Could that actually happen? So then what would happen to the ones who got their original story stolen? Wait, if this is allowed, then that would make the entire concept of having a story assigned at birth useless—you could literally just pick one to sign at Legacy Day!
There must be more to this than you originally thought. And it wasn’t looking too good. "It’s not lining up," you muttered.
"What isn’t?"
"The Book of Legends," you lowered your voice, "I’ve never thought of it like that before, but you might be onto something Seungmin."
Felix gave you a confused look. "Like he said, it really is technically possible for someone to follow another story than theirs. If that’s a thing, then why have an assigned destiny for each one of us in the first place?" You pointed it out to them.
The two were startled by the revelation. You were right. There would be absolutely no need for an assigned fate if anyone could just choose what they wanted—heck, the Book of Legends might not even be needed at all.
The right to choose what future they wanted for themselves has been the main thing the Rebels fought for, and knowing the school was against it (basing off the actions they took against Minho), the same place the Book of Legends was kept and handled, what could this mean for the truth?
The pressing question now is: what exactly is the Book of Legends, and why are we told to follow only those stories that are in the book?
"This is making me doubt everything," Seungmin mumbles. You gulped as you looked at the still fear-stricken cafeteria.
"You should."
Later that night, you found yourself unable to sleep due to the plaguing thoughts from events that unfolded earlier. There had to be an explanation for all this, you thought.
The white ceiling on your side of the room looked very interesting to you at that moment. It was also very useful, seeing as you could make an imaginary conspiracy board on it. You don’t know what time it was currently, but you found yourself unable to care.
A messy rustling of sheets was heard over on Minho’s side of the room. You decided to look over in mere curiosity. Like you, he was also comfortably tucked in bed, staring at the ceiling. It looks like both of you can’t sleep.
"A lot on your mind?" He starts the conversation. You nod against your plush pillows. "Thinking about lunch earlier this day..." Minho hummed at your answer.
"Care to share?"
"I don’t know… I’m not too sure about it yet. Jumping to conclusions wouldn’t do me any good," you sighed, exhausted from thinking. You wanted to avoid spreading something that was untrue—and to do that, there were a lot of things you still had to consider carefully. There were sounds of movement coming from Minho’s location. "Do you want to take a breather? You might drown in those thoughts again."
You sat up, glancing over at him. There he was, pulling a warm hoodie over his head. "Where are you going?"
"We. Where are we going," he walks over and throws another hoodie at you. It smelled nice. The scent was from the same soap he used to wash his clothes. You caught yourself smiling unconsciously. Pulling you up from your bed, he grins at you.
"We’re going out."
And that's how you found yourself sliding down a sturdy rope from your dorm balcony to the ground below.
Curfew had already commenced a couple hours ago, which only really hit you once you saw the unfiltered darkness of the night. You could clearly hear the crickets loudly chirping around you—something you didn’t get to hear that often because of the soundproofing spell cast on the school’s walls.
"I can’t believe I’m doing this," you squealed joyfully, enjoying the feeling of thrill. In your peripheral vision, you saw the tips of Minho’s own lips twitch upwards.
Light footsteps from the two of you permeated the area as he led you towards the entrance of the forest near the dorm building. "Is this the first time you’ve snuck out?" He asks at a low volume, trying to avoid the threat of getting caught.
"Yes," you reply. "I've never had the chance to do it before. Have you?"
He chuckles at you. "Plenty. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed how I sneak out at night sometimes." You blinked at his confession. Racking your brain for any memories of Minho mysteriously disappearing in the cold hours of the night, you came up with nothing. "No?"
"It's probably because you're already asleep when I leave," he says as he leads you two down a narrow path. The area you were heading to must be surrounded by trees, somewhere deep in the small forest. "Why have you never invited me?" You approached him with your complaint.
"Again, you were literally dead asleep."
"Just wake me up. I’ll catch up with a nap after getting poisoned," you joked. Minho clicks his tongue at the reminder. "Not happening. Ever."
Seeing his face twist grumpily, you poked at his side. Minho pushes your hand away, feeling ticklish.
After another minute of walking, you finally reached a large clearing. Minho stepped aside to give you a good view, as if proudly presenting the location. You gasp, amazed at the sight before you.
It was a big lake, something you never thought of the school having before.
The scenery was beautifully surrounded by large bushy trees, forming a wall-like barrier around the body of water. That must be why it wasn’t easily seen from the outside. You noticed that the trees had a blue-ish glow, a result of the moonlight bouncing off the lake’s water. It helped give off a peaceful ambience, one where you could feel your worries dissolving in the chilly night.
You look around in wonder. "I didn’t know they had a lake here!" Minho heads over closer towards the lake’s shore to sit. You sped up when he called you over.
"I found this back in third grade," he explains while picking up a rock near him. "It wasn’t on the school map, so I was surprised to see it too."
The water was certainly not lacking in appeal either. It was so crystal clear that you could see all the different kinds of rocks littered underneath it. As you looked further, you realized the lake was quite deep in the middle because you couldn’t see its floor anymore.
"This place is very therapeutic, huh?"
Minho examined the rocks he was holding and responded, "Yeah. I come here to relax whenever I’m really stressed." He stood up and threw one of the rocks towards the water. You both watched as it skipped a few times before sinking. "I actually went here after the Legacy Day event."
Right. That must’ve been after your fight.
You let a comfortable silence take over your conversation, simply enjoying the company of one another. In the span of a few weeks, a lot has happened to the two of you. From misunderstandings that led to a fight, to making up and thinking about the future—you could say that those events really helped your change as a person, even in a short amount of time.
But there was another thing that bothered you at the present.
"What do you think about what happened to the book?" You asked Minho. He continued skipping rocks. "You mean the Book of Legends?"
"Yeah."
"Shocking," he chuckled. "I never thought someone would ever have the balls to do such a stupid thing."
Stupid was one way to say it. The Book of Legends was a highly secured item that only a select few people had access to. For someone to get past security, they had to be really stealthy to the point where you couldn’t notice them—that or not be classified as a threat.
"Why do you think they did it?"
Minho shrugs. "Maybe as a prank. I mean, what else can you really do with that book anyway?" He turned around to face you and asked, "Why?"
Should you tell him? It’s not even a confirmed theory, and there was a chance that you couldn’t actually erase the signatures, let alone steal another person’s story. However, Minho was someone who knew magic very well and could be a useful source of information.
"Me, Seungmin, and Felix were talking about it at lunch and thought that maybe there was a way to remove a signature from a signed story, or steal it as your own?" Minho dropped the remaining rocks.
"Wait, are you serious?"
You bit your lip. "It’s not yet confirmed, but Seungmin said it could be possible. We have magic and all that. As a magic user though, do you think it's possible?"
He thinks about it carefully. Magic was a complicated subject to dive into because it has so many layers. And because of that, Seungmin was correct that anything could be done technically with the help of magic.
"It... might be a thing," Minho considers. "It’s quite a possibility. This is really bad though, because it would mean the book being stolen could potentially cause major damage to our world." With his insight, the situation becomes so much more frightening to think about the outcome.
Is that what the person who stole the book planned to do?
"That book is causing so many problems," he sighs tiredly. You had to agree with him. The Book of Legends has literally been the source of most of your problems, especially knowing that the way your world works is because of the stories within it.
Minho sat back down beside you. "I wish that thing just never existed," you muttered under your breath. He stares at you, amazed at what he had just heard.
"Your way of thinking has really changed."
"How could I not?" You said, feeling agitated. "There’s a ton of stuff that doesn’t make sense in the beliefs I had before. I’m kind of ashamed that I’ve only noticed it recently."
Minho pinches your cheek. "It’s never too late," he teased. "At least you’re willing to admit your shortcomings. I like that about you."
"Don’t fall for me too much," you joked. When he didn't retort, you glanced at him. However, instead of the annoyed reaction you expected, he was giving you a soft look.
"What if I already did?"
Your brain immediately short-circuited. Wait, he does? Does Minho actually like you? This isn’t a dream, right? Maybe you fell asleep earlier, and this was just your brain playing tricks on you—
"It’s real, Y/N," he pulls you out of your doubts. "Don’t be pressured to give me an answer. It’s fine if you just see me as a friend." You catch the tips of his ears turning red.
Oh God, you think you’re going to pass out.
This was Minho. Your partner in crime, Minho. The ideal man of your dreams, Minho. Once upon a time, you had a massive crush on him, Minho. And here he was telling you he liked you? Like, romantically? What can you even say to that?
If only your parents could see you two now. You’d love to rub it in their faces that he turned out to be so much better than Hyunjin.
At your extended silence, Minho looked away. He looks really embarrassed, so you decided to end his suffering.
"I did also have a crush on you a few years back," you admitted shyly. He snaps his head towards you. "A few years back? What about now?" He asked.
You shrugged, trying to mess with him. "I don’t know," you replied. He dramatically wilts at your words. At his endearing reaction, you couldn’t help but break the act. "But I’m willing to try."
His soul comes back to him at the snap of a finger. "Really? Are you for sure?" He giddily looks for your confirmation. When you nodded at him with a smile, he almost jumped from joy. "I could literally kiss you right now," he announces, feeling breathless.
"Do it."
You didn’t have to tell him twice. It was like living fifteen-year-old you’s greatest dream, except this time, you were actually going to kiss Minho. The peaceful vibe of the area turned romantic as the two of you got closer. But just when you were about to close the gap, a movement in the woods caught your eye.
"Jisung?"
"Are you really saying someone else’s name while you’re about to kiss me?" Minho says, dumbfounded. You hastily waved your hands in denial. "No! I mean that it’s literally Jisung!" You pointed behind him.
Once Minho turned towards the direction you told him, the two of you saw Jisung, frozen in his tracks. You looked at him, confused. "What are you doing here?"
"I, uhm... What are you doing here too?" He squeaks out, sounding frightened.
Jisung was trembling like someone had just caught him in the act of doing something illegal. Something you didn’t understand because he’s literally the one who caught you and Minho almost kissing.
"Are you—" The words you were about to say dried up completely after your eyes traveled down to the object he was currently clutching with his whole strength. Hold on.
Is that the Book of Legends?
You choked on air. "Did—were you the one—" Your eyes stayed fixed on the supposedly missing book. Jisung panics and quickly hides it behind his back, as if that would erase both yours and Minho’s memory of ever seeing it on his hands. Minho abruptly stood up.
"Jisung, what have you done?" He stepped forward, scaring the poor guy even more. "Do you even know how big of a deal this is?"
Then, the unexpected happens.
"And what if I do!?" Jisung snaps.
You were taken aback. This was a side of him you’ve never seen before. Well, the two of you aren’t exactly close friends, but you’ve always seen Jisung as having a cheerful personality. The case of him getting angry, let alone annoyed, seems so foreign to you. Minho's eyes narrowed at him.
"...Please tell us you aren't planning something bad," he slowly said, attempting to approach Jisung. But the latter takes a few steps back.
"This book is a curse!" Jisung reasons, pointing at the book. He looks at it with such hatred that you never thought would be possible to come from him. "Don't you see it? Everyone is getting torn apart just because of this damned book! The school is a mess, my friends are all fighting, and the person I like won’t even give us a chance, all because of this—this thing!"
It was as clear as the lake's water that Jisung was hurting. You could see the unshed tears piling up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He was determined to get his point across: the book had to be disposed of. And he was the martyr; volunteering to do it himself.
"Jisung, just think for a moment—"
"How easy for you to say, Minho!" He scoffed in disdain. "You haven’t signed yet. You’re still free to do everything you want without anything tying you down—"
"And that almost cost me my life!" Minho reminds him. "If the saying was true, I wouldn’t even be here talking to you right now, Jisung."
You decided to speak too, "Jisung, please. We don’t know the extent of the importance that book holds. It could literally end up destroying the world in the worst case scenario."
He looks at you in disbelief, not believing his own ears at what you had said.
"Why are you even defending it? I know you don’t like your story either, Y/N. If we just get rid of it, then we can be free," Jisung appeals, trying to get you on his side. You shook your head. He was a bit too far gone. "Jisung, we could literally die."
"I know, okay!?" He wails. "But I’ve gotten this far already. This isn’t something I can just undo!" Jisung falls roughly to the floor, greatly distressed.
His desperation was evident in his sobs. The more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Jisung was Hyunjin’s best friend, as well as his roommate—but Jisung was also close to Changbin and Jeongin. The whole Rebel and Royals thing must have been devastating for him. He was also one of the people who signed the book before Minho’s outburst back on Legacy Day. Something you knew he only did because there was no other choice, just like what happened to you. Jisung also had the ability to turn into a frog at will, a trait that evolved for the line of the Frog Prince. He must’ve snuck through security as one to reach the chamber they placed the book in. How he got through the magic barriers, though, was beyond you. But that didn’t matter at the moment.
Minho walks over and grabs Jisung’s shoulder, lightly squeezing it. "You can still return it... We won’t tell on you as long as you don’t get caught," Minho turns to you. "Just promise us you’ll return it, okay?" You nod your head in agreement. Jisung manages a confirmation through his sniffles.
"Let’s head back. You can return it early in the morning, Jisung."
A loud bang abruptly woke you and Minho up. Feeling distraught, you sat up to find the source of the disturbance. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but what you saw was not what you expected at all.
"Did you seriously sleep in one bed?" Hyunjin asks, looking at the two of you. "And you called me and Mina bad."
What the hell was he doing here?
Like reading your mind, Minho pulls you back towards his chest. "What the hell are you doing here?" He sleepily glares at the intruder.
Hyunjin rolled his eyes at Minho’s reaction. Instead of finally leaving, he shuts the door he flew open and sits on your sofa. You and Minho watched as he made himself comfortable, completely ignoring both of you in your current intimate position. Hyunjin stares back, unamused.
"So I can’t be comfy too? Have some hospitality, geez."
You pinched your nose bridge before asking, "So? What’s your business here?" Hyunjin had a visible lightbulb moment. Is he serious—
"I have news!" He announces. "About the Book of Legends."
You light up. "Oh! Did Jisung manage to return it—" Minho clasped a hand over your mouth to shut you up. Fuck, you forgot that Hyunjin might not be aware. You both eyed him awkwardly, looking for a way to cover up your mistake. Hyunjin snorts at the comical scene.
"Don’t worry, I already know. I helped him return it earlier."
You let out a relieved sigh. "Thank God. I thought Jisung was toast now." Hyunjin grabbed a sofa pillow to hug. Is he planning to stay here or what? "Do you have anything else to say—"
"It’s fake."
Minho, who finally came out of his sleepy spell, gave Hyunjin a confused look. "What’s fake?" The former pursed his lips, obviously conflicted about what he was about to say.
"The Book of Legends is fake."
Did Jisung steal a dummy? Wait, does this mean he got caught? You are now alarmed at the possible indication. "Is Jisung okay?"
To your relief, Hyunjin confirmed that the other prince was indeed safe. You don’t know what you would do if he was ever found out to be the one who attempted to steal the Book of Legends. That was a crime worth getting expelled and imprisoned for, even worse than Minho disrupting this year’s Legacy Day event.
"How’d you find out it was fake?" Minho asked.
"We were passing by the principal’s office after returning the book to the chamber. The door was slightly open, and we heard him ordering another to this person over the phone. At first we thought it was for a dummy until the actual one was back, but it turns out the book wasn’t even this all-powerful relic! It’s literally just an enchanted book to make those fancy visuals—"
"Hold on, you mean the whole concept of the Book of Legends is fake? Not just the one Jisung stole?" You yelled at the unexpected revelation. "Then what the fuck is the Book of Legends for then?"
Hyunjin looked shocked. "You curse?"
"Answer me!"
He raised his hand up when you attempted to launch at him. Minho quickly held you back. "Calm down, woman. And you ask me why I don’t want to marry you." Minho gave him a pointed look.
"Let’s not go there right now."
"No need to get all possessive on me, loverboy. I have no plans to take her away." Hyunjin tells Minho. The latter only snarls sourly. "You better not."
"Hello? Are we just going to brush off that the Book of Legends isn’t true?"
Hyunjin retorts, "It’s real. Just not in the way we believed it was. It’s literally just a book filled with stories enchanted with magic to make it look fancy." You stared daggers at him.
"Get Jisung. You’re so useless."
He whined. "It’s not my fault! I don’t know much else other than that either! Jisung went straight to Yeri to see if she could post the news. We’re hoping to get the issue investigated professionally."
"How are you so sure they aren’t in on this too? Maybe we’ve been living under the control of the officials for so long!" Minho stroked your hair, in an attempt to calm you down. "Isn't that the point of a government?" shrugs Hyunjin.
You threw a pillow at him.
"Can you not!?" He shrieked. Minho groaned at the chaotic scene. "Thank you for the news, Hyunjin, but this could really wait until lunch or something," he locked you in place so that you wouldn’t attack the poor guy any more, "Unless you have anything else you want to say?"
Hyunjin went silent. He placed the pillow back to rest on the sofa, and sat properly. Clearing his throat, he finally spoke.
"I wanted to say sorry to Y/N," he admits. "There isn’t an explanation I can give you for why I treated you the way I did other than I was immature and hated the idea of not being able to choose who I married—which is a bad excuse because it’s not like you liked that either. Compared to the two of us, you treated me much better than I did to you, even if we were in the same boat." You blinked.
"I’m working on myself, and Mina is too. So I hope you can forgive us someday. You don’t have to like us, though. We'd understand that much."
Well, this was unexpected. Hyunjin and Mina weren’t total bullies, but they still had a hand in the multiple times you were hurt. It would be hard to forget, but you think you could manage to forgive them in the near future at the very least. If they were willing to change, that was enough for you.
"I’ll think about it," you replied to him. The simple positive response was enough to make him smile. "Thanks."
Hyunjin stood up and headed towards the door. "I’ll leave you two lovebirds now. School starts in two hours, by the way. Might as well get ready; there’s bound to be lots of people in the cafeteria soon," he bids, closing the door not long after.
You lay back down, covering yourself with the blanket. Minho laughs and joins you.
"Thirty more minutes."
A day after the shocking truth of the Book of Legends came out on Yeri’s blog, an investigation was launched into the case. And just a mere two days after that, Jisung and Hyunjin’s finding was confirmed—which appalled the whole realm.
It turns out, there was so much more to the fake Book of Legends. Storybook High’s current principal comes from a long line of people who were all high-ranking officials in this world. It was also from this family that the concept of stories was traced back to: the Grimm Family. After careful investigation, they found out that one of their first ancestors responsible for the stories was a very ambitious writer, who wished for his works to come to life. With the help of his older brother, who was a strong magic user, he learned magic with his goals in mind. And with the magic he had gained, he made the legitimate Book of Legends.
It was a book containing all of his stories, with different parts dedicated to all of the characters. But there was a curse embedded into the book; if one signed a character’s story, they would end up living the same life as them.
Satisfied with his work, the Grimm ancestor went around towns, trying to find people to trick into signing the pages under the guise that it meant they liked the story. As one could have probably guessed by now, you were the generations that came after those victims.
That didn’t mean your Book of Legends had the same curse, though.
Apparently, the original book has long since disappeared, only really affecting the first generation of those who signed it. The Grimm ancestor did not live long enough to make another one for his victims’ offspring, though, and in an effort to save their father’s work, his children vowed to continue the stories no matter what—which was still the Grimm Family’s main goal in the current time.
The truth wasn’t uncovered earlier because the Grimm Family quickly took over the world’s power positions and buried the information—making it only accessible to those in on the plan. Following this, they also found out that the current Grimm governing the school had a brother who they locked up in prison wrongfully because he opposed their family’s plans.
What a ride.
"This is so messed up," Chan gasped from across the table, setting down his mirror phone that had the news displayed. "I knew it was sketchy, but not this sketchy!" Felix agrees with him, reaching over Seungmin’s tray to grab his brownie.
Yours and Minho’s friend group (plus Hyunjin and Jisung, who were connected to Changbin) were currently seated at one table, eating their respective lunches. The full result of the investigation just came out earlier this morning, and many were still processing the bomb that just dropped.
"It’s great to know we’ve been living a lie all along," Jeongin chirps sarcastically. Jisung smiled at the group. "But at least now they've abolished it, right? We’re all free now!"
Oh, that was another thing that happened. After the arrest of the remaining Grimm Family members that were involved with the scheme, the new officials completely tore the "follow your story" concept apart and encouraged everyone to write their own destinies. As a result, many of those who heavily sided with the Royals division apologized for their actions and were now working to improve themselves.
"Took them long enough," Minho said, placing an apple on your tray. You pinched his arm. "Ouch!" Seungmin had the audacity to look disgusted.
"Can you two flirt somewhere else?"
"Fine," Minho said, standing up and dragging you along. Gagging noises were heard from the table as the two of you left. You laughed, very amused at their reactions. When Minho stops the both of you in an empty corridor, you joked, "Why do we always end up in a hallway?"
He chuckles at your comment. "Who knows," he stepped closer, "But I know I haven’t gotten that kiss yet." You rolled your eyes at his suggestion. "I can’t believe we ended up together. We're literally supposed to be enemies," you said as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
Minho snickers. "That’s only written on paper anyway," he leans forward.
"Paper can easily be torn."
taglist 🏷️ : @h0neydewmoon @ni-sh @xazucaradictax @autumn-lv @hyuka-luvbot @openlylazybookreader @aunty-tiger-potato @mafegarcia @peachesandcream-9 @strwbrryblues @skzpdf @sidekidzz
God, I love the details😭😭 It'll be hard for me to explain it but here I go. This remind me why I fall in love with your writing again. How you describe Seungmin falling in love and how he want to love his partner make my heart melt </3 (okay, I fail to explain it but I really really love this🤧)
to love you like the snow melts. ksm.
kim seungmin x gn!reader — if seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring.
GENRE/S — fluff, maybe kinda emotional (or is that just me), slight college au mentioned in passing, he fell first trope • 1.1k words
WARNING/S — nothing really unless you're not into lovesick pining, story told in seungmin's pov, slightly unedited cz idk
( ✒️ ) happy seungmin day !! i think i dissociated while writing this fic cause man... i barely remember shit 😭 i originally had a plan going into writing this but it just got thrown out the window by my brain apparently (also this fic is inspired by one of the results in this quiz cause i loved the prompt i got so much) this fic is a bit short but i hope yall like it <3
2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.
Seungmin’s eyes love to rest on you.
That was an undoubtable fact in his life—one that he, himself, doesn’t even know how it started. Yet, the acknowledgement of this unknown didn’t bother him at all. If anything, it was a source of comfort for him; a way of reminding himself of the joy in living. To Seungmin, one thing was for certain: He was given the gift of sight to experience you in your entire beauty.
He first met you in a university lecture, where you simply happened to frequent the seat just a row behind and two chairs away from where he usually sat. Perhaps he was enamored from the very beginning. It was like his gaze would always find a way back to you whenever you were in his immediate vicinity, reminiscent of a magnet longing to cling to metal.
That was also the way he took in your presence as a whole. Seungmin was a man starved for knowledge, desperately clawing for anything he could get to broaden his desired expertise that was you. He particularly loved the way your eyes drooped whenever the lecture of the day bore you, as well as your tendency to make origami on available paper during the times you could care less to listen. The latter always ended up with you blinking endearingly after a successful craft, glancing around the people near you to figure out who to present it to.
Oh, how he wished he had been over there instead, happily receiving a paper star to keep. However, it was your friends that surrounded you on a daily, barely giving you time to be alone. And maybe you didn’t want to be alone—another thing about you that he’d like to discover the truth to. But he thought that until the day he somehow found himself stumbling into your life, he’d have to be grateful to your friends for making you shine the way you deserved every step of the way.
So, imagine his surprise when he finally got the chance to make a mark in the vast expanse of your world.
The opportunity came in the form of a group project with you; the catalyst in which his whole life began to change. Friendly introductions of obligation quickly turned into incessant strings of conversation, bringing the two of you closer. The sheer pace of the development was overwhelming. Seungmin never thought his presence bore enough weight for gravity to grab him by the neck and lock him in the system of the star that was you.
It was a trip and a half, consisting of countless miles to lap around with seemingly no end. So much, that he feared falling out of your grace—to be like a passing asteroid who foolishly dreamt of becoming a planet. Seungmin was endlessly yearning to solidify his place in your world, just like he always wanted. And still, despite that all, he didn’t show it. He merely laughed when you laughed, stayed silent when you needed silence, and experienced anger on your behalf when you couldn’t show it for yourself.
Because Kim Seungmin knew that you needed to be loved patiently.
Even throughout the tightrope of uncertainty he walked months on like his life depended on it, he never once made it seem like he was waiting on a move from you. If Seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring.
Seungmin knew that even with the shows of your cheery demeanor, your heart still remained frosted over from your previous winters. That even when your fingers danced their way to intertwine with his, there was still that moment of hesitation. He was forever thankful that you caught him from falling when he did, refusing to let him disappear into the abyss. Yet, who was lighting up the skies of which you lay under to stare at each day?
He longed to give you a love that was true. One where he showed you how warmth creeped in with small trickles of heat, giving you enough time to decide whether you truly wanted it or not. Love that was considerate in the way that it willingly warned you of its presence, but in a way that cupped your cheeks and sang you lullabies. To love you gently as to not sully your shoes with messy, muddy soil of the ground peeking out from beneath the snow.
To Seungmin, there was no greater gift than being able to be the sign of your spring.
“Baby?” You called out to him softly, a flash of concern twinkling behind your gaze. “Is anything wrong?”
Seungmin feels like he was just coaxed out of a trance, previously being too occupied studying the details of that very moment, as if he hadn’t already spent the past hour doing just that. A string of golden celebration banners made its presence known in the corner of his eye, briefly acknowledging the once-a-year greeting printed on them. The slight smell of smoke fully brought him back to his senses, finally glancing down towards the cake with a small lit-up candle you were presenting him.
Right. It was his birthday today.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “No,” he replies truthfully. “Everything is perfect.” Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, having trouble making sense of the situation. Seungmin has half a mind to think if you would forgive him if he tried to straighten it out with his thumbs as a tease.
“But, you’re not blowing out your candles,” you purse your lips in contemplation. He feels an unstoppable force creeping up to turn the corners of his mouth upwards. Did you even know just how much he loves you?
“I was just enjoying the view, that’s all.”
Your demeanor visibly brightens up. “Is the cake that pretty?” Was your smug question, clearly feeling proud of yourself. “I worked hard on that, you know?”
Seungmin only smiles. Like he always does whenever it concerns you. That warm boyish grin he had paired with a certain fond look in his eyes that his friends never failed to point out just to fluster him into oblivion. But he lets them anyway. There was no way he could ever deny the truth of how strongly he felt for you.
“I know.”
Because he always does.
And as he leaned forward to feel the last heat of the flickering candle before it went out, he couldn’t help but think that the snow had finally melted. His wish had already come true.
“Happy birthday, Seungmin!”
Spring has come.
MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶
@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung @thecutiepieme @yaniiiiism
Hello dear .. My name is Abdul Rahman Halas, married to the martyred journalist Alaa Al-Dahdouh. My journalist wife works for the Watan News Agency and we had a beautiful child named Karam. The real disaster began on Wednesday, May 31, 2024, when my wife, my child and I were surprised by a huge missile that fell on us and exploded in the place where we were, targeting the house we fled to and other neighboring houses
. At that moment, my journalist wife Alaa hugged our child Karam to protect him from the hell of the missile, but she turned into pieces and died immediately. My child Karam and I miraculously escaped certain death when the pressure of the missile threw me a long distance, which resulted in me being injured by numerous shrapnel and multiple injuries that led to severe fractures in my leg and damage to the nerves in my hand and foot and various shrapnel in different parts of my body
. My wife is a journalist covering the crimes of genocide against defenseless civilians in the Gaza Strip. With the intensification of the bombing and the scarcity of food and water, my wife and I struggled daily to secure food for our only child Karam, who was also suffering from severe fear because of The brutal bombing of the Gaza Strip.
Now after the disaster that befell my family, I need your generous support to overcome my ordeal and pay for my treatment and surgeries. I need several surgeries outside the Gaza Strip that cost a lot of money, and I am in dire need of your tears and support.
I am confident that after reading my sad story, you will sympathize with me and share with me and will not leave me and my child Karam alone.
Donate to me or share my campaign with your friends to donate to me
No matter how small your donation is, it means to me a chance for me and my child to be treated and to stay safe.
Thank you! And most welcome <3 I'm excited for your wip 👀👀
˖˙ ᰋ ── pies and cuddles can fix anyone
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: happy lix day!! this is a reupload but rewritten so it's better. enjoy <3
There was nothing Felix loved more in the world than moments like these. Sure, traveling was nice, getting to see sights he’s only ever dreamed of but his favorite destination would always be here with you, in your cozy little apartment he knew like the back of his hand. Home, his favorite place to come back to would always be home to you. Back to being surrounded by your specific smell that he couldn’t fall asleep without and your comforting touch, he longed for 24/7 – nothing could ever come close to that for him. Especially when you were both engaged in his favorite hobby and dressed in matching pajamas.
“Felix, come here.”
Your sweet voice had him complying instantly, abandoning the hot chocolate to be by your side in a heartbeat. Turning to face him with the biggest smile, Felix felt himself falling in love all over again as you brought the wooden spoon to his lips while stepping closer.
“Taste this and tell me if it needs anything else. And be honest!”
With a nod, he opened his mouth to do as told, eyes closing briefly to savor the taste. Apples, caramelized apples for your pie to be exact. Nothing could feel more like autumn than that.
He had a child-like smile on his freckled face once he opened his eyes again, visibly pleased, “I think it’s delicious as always, Y/n. It doesn’t need anything else.”
The way your eyes lit up at his praise had him chuckling, your happiness contagious. That’s why he couldn’t contain himself as he moved to engulf your form in a warm hug from behind, squeezing tightly while his chin rested on your shoulder.
“Okay, thanks.” You nodded, one of your hands moving to intertwine your fingers on your stomach where his rested, “To the oven it goes then.”
But you didn’t make any attempt to move – on the contrary, you leaned back to melt into his warm embrace as he started to pepper innocent kisses all over your cheek and neck. That continued for a minute more before Felix swiftly turned your body around to face him, successfully caging you between the counter and himself.
Leaning in, he rubbed his nose against yours affectionately, “You know, the pie won’t bake by itself, my love.”
“Just five more minutes.” Your voice came out whispered as you stood there, basking in the love your boyfriend was currently showering you with. A deep laugh escaped him at your response, placing a kiss on both of your cheeks and forehead before pulling away slightly.
“You only say that when I dare wake you up without giving you cuddles first. We’re baking right now, Y/n.”
You nodded again and moved to wrap your arms around his middle, resting your head against his chest right where his heart was, “Yes so don’t wake me up. I don’t want you to disappear.”
His eyes softened at the double meaning behind your words, a pang of guilt suddenly hitting him in full force. No matter how far away he was, Felix was never going to leave nor forget you, not when his heart always brought him back to the only place that felt like home. The red string of fate that connected you could never allow that.
“This isn’t a dream, baby,” he placed a kiss on the crown of your head, words murmured against your hair, “I’m right here and I'll always be.”
You were well aware of that but some reassurance never hurt anybody.
“I know. I’m just afraid of you disappearing because you’re way too good to be true. Like an angel without its wings, trapped on this planet to make things more bearable.”
Felix laughed, the sound causing you to do so as well as he buried his face in your hair to hide his embarrassment. Flustering your boyfriend was always so fulfilling. Making an angel laugh must count for something, right? There must a gauge that once filled will grant you eternal happiness.
Not like you were too interested, you already had that with Felix by your side.
“Shut up.” He murmured against your neck, the gesture causing goosebumps to appear all over your skin. “Put the pie in the oven and let’s go cuddle already. Even the hot chocolate is cold by now.”
Oh god, does this make me feel better after my test? Yes yes yes×100. Now, I can go through the rest of my day happily 🏃🏃 (although I have a math test tomorrow)
I love how your writing always make me all warm and cozy inside, like someone had shot me with a gun loaded with loves🥹🥹
˖˙ ᰋ ── pies and cuddles can fix anyone
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: happy lix day!! this is a reupload but rewritten so it's better. enjoy <3
There was nothing Felix loved more in the world than moments like these. Sure, traveling was nice, getting to see sights he’s only ever dreamed of but his favorite destination would always be here with you, in your cozy little apartment he knew like the back of his hand. Home, his favorite place to come back to would always be home to you. Back to being surrounded by your specific smell that he couldn’t fall asleep without and your comforting touch, he longed for 24/7 – nothing could ever come close to that for him. Especially when you were both engaged in his favorite hobby and dressed in matching pajamas.
“Felix, come here.”
Your sweet voice had him complying instantly, abandoning the hot chocolate to be by your side in a heartbeat. Turning to face him with the biggest smile, Felix felt himself falling in love all over again as you brought the wooden spoon to his lips while stepping closer.
“Taste this and tell me if it needs anything else. And be honest!”
With a nod, he opened his mouth to do as told, eyes closing briefly to savor the taste. Apples, caramelized apples for your pie to be exact. Nothing could feel more like autumn than that.
He had a child-like smile on his freckled face once he opened his eyes again, visibly pleased, “I think it’s delicious as always, Y/n. It doesn’t need anything else.”
The way your eyes lit up at his praise had him chuckling, your happiness contagious. That’s why he couldn’t contain himself as he moved to engulf your form in a warm hug from behind, squeezing tightly while his chin rested on your shoulder.
“Okay, thanks.” You nodded, one of your hands moving to intertwine your fingers on your stomach where his rested, “To the oven it goes then.”
But you didn’t make any attempt to move – on the contrary, you leaned back to melt into his warm embrace as he started to pepper innocent kisses all over your cheek and neck. That continued for a minute more before Felix swiftly turned your body around to face him, successfully caging you between the counter and himself.
Leaning in, he rubbed his nose against yours affectionately, “You know, the pie won’t bake by itself, my love.”
“Just five more minutes.” Your voice came out whispered as you stood there, basking in the love your boyfriend was currently showering you with. A deep laugh escaped him at your response, placing a kiss on both of your cheeks and forehead before pulling away slightly.
“You only say that when I dare wake you up without giving you cuddles first. We’re baking right now, Y/n.”
You nodded again and moved to wrap your arms around his middle, resting your head against his chest right where his heart was, “Yes so don’t wake me up. I don’t want you to disappear.”
His eyes softened at the double meaning behind your words, a pang of guilt suddenly hitting him in full force. No matter how far away he was, Felix was never going to leave nor forget you, not when his heart always brought him back to the only place that felt like home. The red string of fate that connected you could never allow that.
“This isn’t a dream, baby,” he placed a kiss on the crown of your head, words murmured against your hair, “I’m right here and I'll always be.”
You were well aware of that but some reassurance never hurt anybody.
“I know. I’m just afraid of you disappearing because you’re way too good to be true. Like an angel without its wings, trapped on this planet to make things more bearable.”
Felix laughed, the sound causing you to do so as well as he buried his face in your hair to hide his embarrassment. Flustering your boyfriend was always so fulfilling. Making an angel laugh must count for something, right? There must a gauge that once filled will grant you eternal happiness.
Not like you were too interested, you already had that with Felix by your side.
“Shut up.” He murmured against your neck, the gesture causing goosebumps to appear all over your skin. “Put the pie in the oven and let’s go cuddle already. Even the hot chocolate is cold by now.”
Stop 🛑❗️❗️❗️❗️
Please help us ❗️❗️❗️
There is little left to reach the goal🙏❤️
Youuuuuu caaan❗️❗️❗️
Hello my friends, I only have $40 left to complete my short-term goal to reach $250. I hope to complete it as soon as possible.
<33333
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ early morning moments with skz !
⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff! jisung's a tiny bit suggestive
⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: since i've done late night moments with them, i think it's only fitting i write this as well! enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts by reblogging or leaving a comment <3 (inspired by some of these prompts <3)
𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧
You’ve been awake for a while now, snuggling and holding each other close as half of your body was on top of your boyfriend’s, almost latching onto him like a koala bear without shame. And he didn’t mind, Chan never did, content with being glued to you in every situation, hugging you so tightly like he wanted you to morph into one, the same entity kept alive by the beating of a singular heart.
“You fell asleep in the first 20 minutes of the movie last night.” You whisper, drawing random shapes on his exposed pecs, laying in the crook of his neck. Chan makes an apologetic sound before he’s interrupted by a yawn, stretching his arms above his head and letting one fall to curl around your middle. “Sorry, baby. I guess I was pretty tired.”
Tired is an understatement, and you laugh, lazily reaching for your phone on the nightstand to show him exactly what you’re talking about, with him tugging you right back to his chest when you stretch too far. There is a picture of Chan, sitting on the couch with his head thrown back and mouth open, snoring away while the movie he’s been begging you to watch together was rolling in the background.
The laugh he lets out is quieter than usual, the remains of sleep obvious in his half-closed eyes and deeper voice. “Damn, I was out like a light.”
You continue cuddling for a while before agreeing it’s time to start your day, reluctantly separating and sitting up at the end of the bed, adopting the same stance.
He’s still mumbling about something when you notice his hair sticking out in every direction, reaching out to tame the curls before stealing a kiss which only makes your boyfriend want another, and another until twenty minutes have passed and you’re still in bed, snuggling and making out like the world outside your bedroom did not exist.
𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧
“Minho.” You whisper, tossing and turning under the blanket to face him, peering at his sleeping face. Your boyfriend was on his back, resting peacefully, unaware of the godly beauty he possessed, one people would surely go to war for, chest rising and falling rhythmically.
He doesn’t respond so, you try again. “Minho!” this time, he scrunches his nose cutely and rolls over, away from you and your antics he was too tired to be a victim of this early in the morning.
“Minho, are you awake yet?” You know what they say, third time is the charm because your boyfriend responds instantly, voice loud and clear, the opposite of your soft tone which takes you by complete surprise. “No.”
“Oh, okay.” you whisper, feeling bad for disturbing him. “Sorry.” you almost turn on your side and succumb to slumber before it hits you. Without warning, you swing a leg over his torso before rolling yourself over him to land on the other side of the bed, ignoring all his groans in protest.
“Liar!” You’re nose to nose now and Minho barely gets to open his eyes before you push his shoulder, causing him to fall on his back as you climb to straddle him. You waste no time leaning down and connecting your lips in a sweet kiss, cupping his cheeks and squeezing affectionately. As much as he wanted to complain, Minho couldn’t help but smile against your lips, body melting into the mattress while one of his veiny hands moved to rest on your exposed thigh, needing to feel more of you.
He should lie more often if this is the reward he gets.
𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧
“Binnie.” You’re gentle as you brush curly hair strands from his forehead, smiling when he instantly leans into your touch. “My love, I know you’re awake.”
“Then you should also know I hate waking up to an empty bed.” He pouts, eyes still closed stubbornly. With the same fond smile, you roll your eyes, hand dropping down to slowly trace his every feature, knowing he could never resist you.
“I had a good cause, I promise.” When he doesn’t budge, you reach for the tray on the nightstand and place it across his lap, over the blanket, careful his smoothie doesn’t spill over. “I made breakfast.”
Just like magic, his eyes snap open and he sits up so quickly you wonder if he got whiplash that was instantly cured by the smell of his favorite breakfast. His eyes sparkle as his gaze moves back and forth from the tray to you, so touched and grateful as he takes it all in, noticing the effort you put in so early in the morning just to cook a feast and surprise him with breakfast in bed. Nobody’s ever done something like this for him, love him so deeply and openly. Is this what being the luckiest man in the world felt like?
“I love you.” The words stumble out without second thought, eyes misty, forgetting all about being upset and giving you attitude. When you laugh, he does too, carefully leaning over the food to kiss you, the love of his life that adored him in the exact same way he adored you.
Love is the greatest gift he’s ever received and as selfish as it sounds, Changbin hopes you’ll continue loving him this way for the rest of your shared lives, that you’ll always remain by his side. He promises to continue eating your cooking even when you’re both old and grey, impaired taste and all.
𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧
The early hours of the morning found you in the arms of your beloved, sleeping away, undisturbed by the outside world and its people who were already hurrying around to get to work on time. You won’t be joining them today, nor will the man whose warmth was currently engulfing you whole, creating a safe love bubble you never wanted to burst.
Your face was buried in his chest, the soft material of his t-shirt moving with each breath he took, his heartbeat rocking you to sleep every time your eyes opened to check the time. Old habits die hard, but Hyunjin always manages to calm your racing mind even from dreamland.
Half an hour later, when the sun starts to peek through the drawn curtains, you’re awakened by tiny paws jumping on the bed, breathing and barking loudly. So much for sleeping in. Hyunjin’s eyes open with a smile, arms tightening their hold on your middle as he brings you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head while squeezing tightly. Morning cuddles were a must, even if your boyfriend’s other baby was too impatient to be let out to allow you to enjoy them to the fullest.
“Good morning, love.” He greets you with a kiss, lingering there for the briefest moment before finally tearing himself from you, giggling down the hallway as he quickly goes to allow Kkami on the terrace.
He comes back rambling about something that happened at a schedule the other day, blinking the sleep away as he hands you a water bottle, yawning here and there. Unfortunately for him, you’re not listening, too distracted by the way his plump lips move and his husky voice, the words going in one ear and out the other as your inner monologue takes over.
“Your morning voice is so hot.” Hyunjin stops mid-sentence, momentarily taken aback before he bursts out laughing, dramatically collapsing back into bed and reaching for your hand to hold. “What?”
You nod, now sitting up against the headboard, eyes still zoned in on his pink and wet lips, enthralled. “Tell me more, baby. What did Chan do?” “He wasn’t even there!” See, not paying attention at all. But who could blame you when your boyfriend couldn’t take the hint and finally kiss you again?
𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧
“I had a dream about you.” Jisung perks up from his place on your chest, the TV running idly in the background, showing a random cartoon. “Was I hot?” “You cheated on me.”
He gasps dramatically but doesn’t move, too comfortable as you continue running your fingers through his freshly dyed hair, almost lulling him back to sleep. “Asshole move, dream me. Off with his head!.”
You chuckle, kissing the top of his head and turning into a puddle once he begins leaving wet kisses on your neck, apologizing or most likely trying to distract you from how he’s been acting in your dream. It was working, because you lost your train of thought a couple of times before managing to speak again, eyes fluttering shut.
“You were very mean, actually.” Jisung hums against your neck, licking the skin before his kisses move downwards, to your collarbones, warm hands holding you down by the waist, touch burning pleasantly through your thin clothing.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He props his head up, chin resting right above your chest as his eyes bore into yours with a familiar intensity. “Please let me make it up for you.”
That’s what he says but ten minutes into making out and caressing each other’s bodies, his head falls tiredly to his previous place on your chest and you’re both out like a light, the warmth and cloudy weather of the early morning casting the spell of sleep on your forms and trapping you in bed for another three hours.
𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧
You were not a morning person, it was a well-known fact by everyone in your life. Especially by your boyfriend who usually stayed up to keep you company, talking the hours away and giggling under the blankets until you both passed out just as the moon was retiring for the day.
So, you’re more than perplexed when one very early morning, you feel a warm hand caressing your cheek, followed by soft lips peppering feather-like kisses on every inch of your face, coaxing you awake.
“Baby,” his deep voice calls, barely above a whisper to not scare you, leaving a kiss on the corner of your mouth this time, “wake up, angel.”
You make a face, eyes still closed in protest and make to turn over, away from him until you feel the bed dip and his hand in your hair, massaging the scalp gently. Was Felix trying to wake you up or lull you back to sleep? Pretty sure he was just as confused.
When he leans down again, hovering over your face, your arms spring up and lock at the back of his neck, quickly bringing him down and bumping your noses together. You see his eyes widen, inhaling sharply as he realizes what you’re about to do and dodges your kiss last second, lips landing on his cheekbone instead.
Groggy and grumpy from being woken up this early, you pout, relaxing under his weight as his chest presses yours down. “Kiss me!” Felix chuckles and shakes his head, hands on either side of your head holding him up. “Not until you wake up and join me in the kitchen.” Once he sees you shake your own head and move to try and kiss him again, he adds. “I have a surprise!”
Now why didn’t he say so from the beginning? You release him but he doesn’t move away immediately, smiling from ear to ear before kissing your forehead and scooping you out of bed in one swift movement, strong arms under your knees as he giggles and jogs towards the kitchen, face brightening up when a smile finally graces your features.
𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧
Every single morning, Seungmin was the first to wake up without fail, reaching for you to bring your body to his chest and cuddle until you also did, just laying there since he never wanted you to wake up alone.
That’s why when you woke up earlier than usual, with his chin resting on your shoulder and hot breath hitting your cheek, you didn’t hesitate to move around and bring the blanket further up your bodies, making sure you were both covered and comfortable among the many pillows.
“Your feet are cold.” But Seungmin doesn’t respond, legs intertwined and body still glued to yours like he never wanted to let go, couldn’t. You sneak a glance over your shoulder and find his eyes closed, long eyelashes kissing the top of his cheeks as he rested, sleeping deeply. For the first time since you’ve known him, Seungmin didn’t smile in greeting as you woke up, still sleeping soundly like it was the most normal thing in the world.
It felt a bit strange, but your heart only grew as you watched him, admiring his side profile and the peaceful look on his face, the furrow between his eyebrows absent as dreamland took care of him.
You never got the chance to do this, wake up first and let your thoughts run wild as you resist the urge to squeeze his cheeks and plant kisses all over his face, love pouring out at a dangerous pace, threatening to suffocate him at any moment. Not like Seungmin would mind, adoring you too much to not allow you to do whatever you pleased.
As careful as you can be, one of your hands trails down and intertwines your fingers, gently bringing your connected hands to your chest as you curl further into him, content with getting more cuddle time, loving every single moment.
𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧
“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” You mumble into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to hide from the obnoxious sunlight that is threatening to take your lover away with the start of a new day.
Jeongin laughs, incredulous. “No way! I’ve had countless roommates and none of them have ever complained about me randomly rambling in my sleep.” He headbutts you affectionately, almost like a cat, and snuggles closer, also bothered by the sun but too lazy to get up and close the curtains he forgot about last night.
“I’m not complaining.” Looking up, you share a breath as you move to plant a small kiss on his nose, smiling when it scrunches up in fake annoyance, knowing your boyfriend loved morning cuddles as much as you did. “I actually think it’s kind of endearing.”
He rolls his eyes, big hand drawing circles on your back under the blanket, soothing you in an attempt to get you both to fall back asleep. Mornings were not his thing, and he really didn’t want to leave you, clingier than usual. The bed was so warm, and you were so soft and smelt so good, how could he ever think about leaving? Not like he’d ever admit it out loud.
“What did I say?” He chooses to entertain you, stretching his whole body before bringing the blanket over your heads and moving his arms to hug you, turning on his side so you’re face to face. You pause, momentarily mesmerized by his beauty, messy hair and puffy eyes only making him look even more adorable in your eyes. Tracing his bottom lip, he puckers them to gently kiss your finger. “I don’t know, I don’t speak gibberish.”
He groans, regretting he asked and hiding his face in his pillow. “You also snore.” “I do not!”
This is sooooo adorableeeee. It makes my day, thank you so much! 🥹🥹 (Seriously, your writing is so good?!, I love your style of writing)
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ early morning moments with skz !
⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff! jisung's a tiny bit suggestive
⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: since i've done late night moments with them, i think it's only fitting i write this as well! enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts by reblogging or leaving a comment <3 (inspired by some of these prompts <3)
𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧
You’ve been awake for a while now, snuggling and holding each other close as half of your body was on top of your boyfriend’s, almost latching onto him like a koala bear without shame. And he didn’t mind, Chan never did, content with being glued to you in every situation, hugging you so tightly like he wanted you to morph into one, the same entity kept alive by the beating of a singular heart.
“You fell asleep in the first 20 minutes of the movie last night.” You whisper, drawing random shapes on his exposed pecs, laying in the crook of his neck. Chan makes an apologetic sound before he’s interrupted by a yawn, stretching his arms above his head and letting one fall to curl around your middle. “Sorry, baby. I guess I was pretty tired.”
Tired is an understatement, and you laugh, lazily reaching for your phone on the nightstand to show him exactly what you’re talking about, with him tugging you right back to his chest when you stretch too far. There is a picture of Chan, sitting on the couch with his head thrown back and mouth open, snoring away while the movie he’s been begging you to watch together was rolling in the background.
The laugh he lets out is quieter than usual, the remains of sleep obvious in his half-closed eyes and deeper voice. “Damn, I was out like a light.”
You continue cuddling for a while before agreeing it’s time to start your day, reluctantly separating and sitting up at the end of the bed, adopting the same stance.
He’s still mumbling about something when you notice his hair sticking out in every direction, reaching out to tame the curls before stealing a kiss which only makes your boyfriend want another, and another until twenty minutes have passed and you’re still in bed, snuggling and making out like the world outside your bedroom did not exist.
𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧
“Minho.” You whisper, tossing and turning under the blanket to face him, peering at his sleeping face. Your boyfriend was on his back, resting peacefully, unaware of the godly beauty he possessed, one people would surely go to war for, chest rising and falling rhythmically.
He doesn’t respond so, you try again. “Minho!” this time, he scrunches his nose cutely and rolls over, away from you and your antics he was too tired to be a victim of this early in the morning.
“Minho, are you awake yet?” You know what they say, third time is the charm because your boyfriend responds instantly, voice loud and clear, the opposite of your soft tone which takes you by complete surprise. “No.”
“Oh, okay.” you whisper, feeling bad for disturbing him. “Sorry.” you almost turn on your side and succumb to slumber before it hits you. Without warning, you swing a leg over his torso before rolling yourself over him to land on the other side of the bed, ignoring all his groans in protest.
“Liar!” You’re nose to nose now and Minho barely gets to open his eyes before you push his shoulder, causing him to fall on his back as you climb to straddle him. You waste no time leaning down and connecting your lips in a sweet kiss, cupping his cheeks and squeezing affectionately. As much as he wanted to complain, Minho couldn’t help but smile against your lips, body melting into the mattress while one of his veiny hands moved to rest on your exposed thigh, needing to feel more of you.
He should lie more often if this is the reward he gets.
𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧
“Binnie.” You’re gentle as you brush curly hair strands from his forehead, smiling when he instantly leans into your touch. “My love, I know you’re awake.”
“Then you should also know I hate waking up to an empty bed.” He pouts, eyes still closed stubbornly. With the same fond smile, you roll your eyes, hand dropping down to slowly trace his every feature, knowing he could never resist you.
“I had a good cause, I promise.” When he doesn’t budge, you reach for the tray on the nightstand and place it across his lap, over the blanket, careful his smoothie doesn’t spill over. “I made breakfast.”
Just like magic, his eyes snap open and he sits up so quickly you wonder if he got whiplash that was instantly cured by the smell of his favorite breakfast. His eyes sparkle as his gaze moves back and forth from the tray to you, so touched and grateful as he takes it all in, noticing the effort you put in so early in the morning just to cook a feast and surprise him with breakfast in bed. Nobody’s ever done something like this for him, love him so deeply and openly. Is this what being the luckiest man in the world felt like?
“I love you.” The words stumble out without second thought, eyes misty, forgetting all about being upset and giving you attitude. When you laugh, he does too, carefully leaning over the food to kiss you, the love of his life that adored him in the exact same way he adored you.
Love is the greatest gift he’s ever received and as selfish as it sounds, Changbin hopes you’ll continue loving him this way for the rest of your shared lives, that you’ll always remain by his side. He promises to continue eating your cooking even when you’re both old and grey, impaired taste and all.
𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧
The early hours of the morning found you in the arms of your beloved, sleeping away, undisturbed by the outside world and its people who were already hurrying around to get to work on time. You won’t be joining them today, nor will the man whose warmth was currently engulfing you whole, creating a safe love bubble you never wanted to burst.
Your face was buried in his chest, the soft material of his t-shirt moving with each breath he took, his heartbeat rocking you to sleep every time your eyes opened to check the time. Old habits die hard, but Hyunjin always manages to calm your racing mind even from dreamland.
Half an hour later, when the sun starts to peek through the drawn curtains, you’re awakened by tiny paws jumping on the bed, breathing and barking loudly. So much for sleeping in. Hyunjin’s eyes open with a smile, arms tightening their hold on your middle as he brings you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head while squeezing tightly. Morning cuddles were a must, even if your boyfriend’s other baby was too impatient to be let out to allow you to enjoy them to the fullest.
“Good morning, love.” He greets you with a kiss, lingering there for the briefest moment before finally tearing himself from you, giggling down the hallway as he quickly goes to allow Kkami on the terrace.
He comes back rambling about something that happened at a schedule the other day, blinking the sleep away as he hands you a water bottle, yawning here and there. Unfortunately for him, you’re not listening, too distracted by the way his plump lips move and his husky voice, the words going in one ear and out the other as your inner monologue takes over.
“Your morning voice is so hot.” Hyunjin stops mid-sentence, momentarily taken aback before he bursts out laughing, dramatically collapsing back into bed and reaching for your hand to hold. “What?”
You nod, now sitting up against the headboard, eyes still zoned in on his pink and wet lips, enthralled. “Tell me more, baby. What did Chan do?” “He wasn’t even there!” See, not paying attention at all. But who could blame you when your boyfriend couldn’t take the hint and finally kiss you again?
𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧
“I had a dream about you.” Jisung perks up from his place on your chest, the TV running idly in the background, showing a random cartoon. “Was I hot?” “You cheated on me.”
He gasps dramatically but doesn’t move, too comfortable as you continue running your fingers through his freshly dyed hair, almost lulling him back to sleep. “Asshole move, dream me. Off with his head!.”
You chuckle, kissing the top of his head and turning into a puddle once he begins leaving wet kisses on your neck, apologizing or most likely trying to distract you from how he’s been acting in your dream. It was working, because you lost your train of thought a couple of times before managing to speak again, eyes fluttering shut.
“You were very mean, actually.” Jisung hums against your neck, licking the skin before his kisses move downwards, to your collarbones, warm hands holding you down by the waist, touch burning pleasantly through your thin clothing.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He props his head up, chin resting right above your chest as his eyes bore into yours with a familiar intensity. “Please let me make it up for you.”
That’s what he says but ten minutes into making out and caressing each other’s bodies, his head falls tiredly to his previous place on your chest and you’re both out like a light, the warmth and cloudy weather of the early morning casting the spell of sleep on your forms and trapping you in bed for another three hours.
𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧
You were not a morning person, it was a well-known fact by everyone in your life. Especially by your boyfriend who usually stayed up to keep you company, talking the hours away and giggling under the blankets until you both passed out just as the moon was retiring for the day.
So, you’re more than perplexed when one very early morning, you feel a warm hand caressing your cheek, followed by soft lips peppering feather-like kisses on every inch of your face, coaxing you awake.
“Baby,” his deep voice calls, barely above a whisper to not scare you, leaving a kiss on the corner of your mouth this time, “wake up, angel.”
You make a face, eyes still closed in protest and make to turn over, away from him until you feel the bed dip and his hand in your hair, massaging the scalp gently. Was Felix trying to wake you up or lull you back to sleep? Pretty sure he was just as confused.
When he leans down again, hovering over your face, your arms spring up and lock at the back of his neck, quickly bringing him down and bumping your noses together. You see his eyes widen, inhaling sharply as he realizes what you’re about to do and dodges your kiss last second, lips landing on his cheekbone instead.
Groggy and grumpy from being woken up this early, you pout, relaxing under his weight as his chest presses yours down. “Kiss me!” Felix chuckles and shakes his head, hands on either side of your head holding him up. “Not until you wake up and join me in the kitchen.” Once he sees you shake your own head and move to try and kiss him again, he adds. “I have a surprise!”
Now why didn’t he say so from the beginning? You release him but he doesn’t move away immediately, smiling from ear to ear before kissing your forehead and scooping you out of bed in one swift movement, strong arms under your knees as he giggles and jogs towards the kitchen, face brightening up when a smile finally graces your features.
𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧
Every single morning, Seungmin was the first to wake up without fail, reaching for you to bring your body to his chest and cuddle until you also did, just laying there since he never wanted you to wake up alone.
That’s why when you woke up earlier than usual, with his chin resting on your shoulder and hot breath hitting your cheek, you didn’t hesitate to move around and bring the blanket further up your bodies, making sure you were both covered and comfortable among the many pillows.
“Your feet are cold.” But Seungmin doesn’t respond, legs intertwined and body still glued to yours like he never wanted to let go, couldn’t. You sneak a glance over your shoulder and find his eyes closed, long eyelashes kissing the top of his cheeks as he rested, sleeping deeply. For the first time since you’ve known him, Seungmin didn’t smile in greeting as you woke up, still sleeping soundly like it was the most normal thing in the world.
It felt a bit strange, but your heart only grew as you watched him, admiring his side profile and the peaceful look on his face, the furrow between his eyebrows absent as dreamland took care of him.
You never got the chance to do this, wake up first and let your thoughts run wild as you resist the urge to squeeze his cheeks and plant kisses all over his face, love pouring out at a dangerous pace, threatening to suffocate him at any moment. Not like Seungmin would mind, adoring you too much to not allow you to do whatever you pleased.
As careful as you can be, one of your hands trails down and intertwines your fingers, gently bringing your connected hands to your chest as you curl further into him, content with getting more cuddle time, loving every single moment.
𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧
“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” You mumble into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to hide from the obnoxious sunlight that is threatening to take your lover away with the start of a new day.
Jeongin laughs, incredulous. “No way! I’ve had countless roommates and none of them have ever complained about me randomly rambling in my sleep.” He headbutts you affectionately, almost like a cat, and snuggles closer, also bothered by the sun but too lazy to get up and close the curtains he forgot about last night.
“I’m not complaining.” Looking up, you share a breath as you move to plant a small kiss on his nose, smiling when it scrunches up in fake annoyance, knowing your boyfriend loved morning cuddles as much as you did. “I actually think it’s kind of endearing.”
He rolls his eyes, big hand drawing circles on your back under the blanket, soothing you in an attempt to get you both to fall back asleep. Mornings were not his thing, and he really didn’t want to leave you, clingier than usual. The bed was so warm, and you were so soft and smelt so good, how could he ever think about leaving? Not like he’d ever admit it out loud.
“What did I say?” He chooses to entertain you, stretching his whole body before bringing the blanket over your heads and moving his arms to hug you, turning on his side so you’re face to face. You pause, momentarily mesmerized by his beauty, messy hair and puffy eyes only making him look even more adorable in your eyes. Tracing his bottom lip, he puckers them to gently kiss your finger. “I don’t know, I don’t speak gibberish.”
He groans, regretting he asked and hiding his face in his pillow. “You also snore.” “I do not!”
CIRCUS ~ CHAPTER 1
Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x OC
Genre: Circus AU, murder mystery, slowburn, enemies to lovers?
Warnings: Blood, injuries, mental problems
Word count: 3k+
Synopsis: A series of murders in a successful circus disturbs the life of a young stylist. With no place to go, she is keen on saving the circus, even if that means risking her own life to do so. As if things cannot go worse, a group of newbies join the hawock, seemingly not knowing what they're getting themselves into. Can she figure out the motives of the murderer and keep her crew together? Can the circus survive under the growing pressure and distrust?
Note: This is the first story I am publicly sharing. It is a work of fiction, although it may not fit the criteria of a traditional fanfic (I physically cannot write in the second-person narrative). Therefore, English is not my first language, and while I'm pretty fluent, I still make grammar errors, so apologies in advance.
The story is vaguely inspired by Circus MV
Nadya didn't think she had it in herself. Ever since she was a little child, the most common word to describe her was obedient. This is a common trait for noble girls like her. That's why no one even questioned or cared if she was happy.
In her place, who wouldn't be? She was destined for a great life. To marry into a rich family and bring even more wealth to her name.
However, wealth was not one of the things she ever craved for. Nadya knew she was destined for more than sitting around and looking pretty like some trophy.
One problem in her path to becoming the best version of herself was her parents. Like most parents who ever raised daughters, they were strict.
She was not allowed to go out and hang out with friends outside of school hours. That's why she never had many. Or any in her case. But even that wasn't what drove her over the edge.
It was the constant bickering between her perfectionist mother and lazy father. They were the perfect example of what her life would be like if she married someone she had no feelings for. An arranged marriage and pride were the only things holding their family together.
The pride was something they planned to preserve by trading their daughter. Truth be told, her parents were not great at making or keeping money. All of it was inherited from their royal ancestors, who lived ages ago. Her mom loved to spend the treasures, and her father put no effort into doubling them.
They were always a broken family held together by money.
Nadya is, fortunately, not a part of that family anymore. She made a calculated decision to save herself. Although she saved no one, She is not the girl she once was. The part of her she left behind in that house wouldn't have run from home as far as possible without any regrets.
However, Nadya has one regret. Her sister. She was so focused on herself back then that she left herself behind. Now her sister has to take the wrath that was supposed to be shared between the two. Now she just has to live with the guilt. It's not like she can just barge in.
A little girl runs up to Nadya, her ponytail swinging from side to side, and she smiles cheerfully. Jihyun is one of the bright stars of the circus. "Mr. Orlo has been looking for you," she announces, not letting her smile slip from her full lips.
Jihyun's smile is one of the reasons why she is one of the best-rated performers in the entire circus. It's hard to pair both cuteness and incredible skills, but she manages perfectly. At the young age of eleven, she is already in the ranks of the best masters of aerial silk.
Nadya can't help but feel jealous, wishing her parents would have let her pursue an interest in something thrilling, but now it is too late to be petty. She is happy to have Jihyun as her colleague and a treasured friend.
"Did he say what for?" Nadya wonders, but the girl only shakes her head. That means she will have to go and find out. Although Mr. Orlo is a great man, visits to her boss's office are never pleasant. She is just a makeup artist, after all.
Mr. Orlo can be quite strict at times, but as the owner of a successful circus, he has to be. However, his position doesn't stop him from being the closest father figure Nadya has. He has been kind enough to take her in after all.
Nadya pats the girl's head before rushing off. They've been on the road for a while, so it's refreshing to leave her waggon once in a while. Travelling with a lot of equipment is one of the things that holds them back from becoming the best version of themselves. At least the company is nice.
Nadya approaches the office wordlessly and knocks. "Enter," Mr. Orlo's voice reaches her air, and she does as told. The boss beams at the sight of the girl. "Nadya, darling, come in and take a seat," he says, pointing to a chair. Nadya has only ever been in this office to get scolded, so it's fair that she hesitates.
"Did I do something?" The girl wonders. He just smiles at her, which makes everything even more awkward.
"You're all good, darling, I promise. I'm just excited that we have already crossed the border with China. All the tickets are sold out in advance. This show is going to go down in history!" He exclaims, which makes Nadya lean back from the noise.
Her house growing up was usually quiet without the occasional bickering. Here in the circus, everyone is so loud that it's annoying at times.
She dreamed about this, so now she shouldn't complain. They have every right to be happy.
After a successful European tour, the circus decided to max out its capacity, and a miracle happened. Nadya can feel relieved now after hearing great news. She is not passionate about much besides the circus. A refreshing emotion. "That's amazing! Could be a huge breakthrough."
"That's right, Nadya. We are on top, but actually, I called you in for something else. I know you love art, and it's the Chinese New Year. I thought you might want to see the fireworks, so I'm giving you a little bonus." He grabs cash from under the desk and pushes towards the girl. "This should be enough for the show."
Even coming from a rich family, Nadya has never seen that much money in one place. That's like her yearly pay cheque.
Temptation is a strong emotion, yet Nadya was taught better than that. "I can't take this," she mutters, her mouth still agape. Sure, she'd love to see the fireworks, but not at such a cost. They shouldn't waste money; the show isn't a necessity.
The man chuckles. "It's fine. You've been working here for a while and never asked for anything more. You deserve it. Take it. I would spend it all on cigarettes anyway," he laughs, but then frowns.
Yes, the smoking. He has some issues, and considering his age, they will be the thing that finishes him off.
He will still find a way to talk her into it, so she takes the money. "That's a dream come true. Really. Thank you," she babbles, almost crying out of pure joy. No one has ever been this kind to her.
"Go on, chase your dreams," smiles the owner. And his gaze led the girl out of the room.
She excitedly approaches her other coworkers and dear friends. "Hey, Jun," she says, stopping in front of the guy, and he raises an eyebrow. Jun knows that Nadya doesn't usually approach him unless she is up to no good. "I was wondering if you'd go to see the New Year show with me."
Jun looks sceptical at first, but then grins. "Are you asking me out?" He questions, smirking. Is she asking him out? Well, technically.
Nadya scoffs playfully. "You wish."
"Don't ruin a man's dreams," he says, wiping a fake tear. And that's the Jun everyone knows. The charismatic juggler of the team. Who doesn't love a man with skilled hands?
Nadya ignores his dramatics. She is used to that by now. The man can never be fully serious. "Please? I am scared to go, and you're the only Chinese person I know," she pleads. Her crew connects a lot of people from different backgrounds, yet Jun is the only one who speaks Mandarin. Unfortunate.
Luckily, Jun is easy to sway, and Mr. Orlo is generous. They are about to have a blast.
On New Year's Eve, the circus stopped in Hong Kong. Throughout their tour, Nadya saw a lot of huge cities, but this one didn't even need fireworks to look breathtaking.
"Bet the view would be even better from above," Adele, their tightrope walker, elbows Nadya.
Nadya stares at her, a bit startled since she has no clue the heights lover is nearby. Adele is incredibly light on her feet and could probably empty anyone's pockets in seconds.
"I wouldn't dare to find out even if I could," Nadya comments, glancing at the rooftops. There are plenty of sky scrapers; a lot can be seen from them, for sure. Adele would have a blast, but for Nadya, it's a big old no.
"Looks fun!" Adele laughs and pushes her coworker again. They're all used to treating each other like family. Some more than others.
Nadya shakes her head. "It's not safe."
"You can't always play it safe," Adele argues. She is right in a way, but Nadia has already used up all of her courage to escape from home. She needs far more time to replenish.
Jun runs up to Nadya's side and starts dragging her along. "If we want good spots, we need to go," he announces.
Nadya was ready an hour before him, so she didn't protest. They get inside a cab, and an older-looking guy greets them. In Mandarin. She is going to struggle a lot in this country. Jun gives the directions, and they drive in silence. Nadia is lucky to have Jun since, without him, she would be so lost.
They arrive and rush to the main event. People are gathering already. It will get suffocating, probably, so Nadya clings to Jun. It would be terrible to get lost here. Without knowing Mandarin, she couldn't even ask for directions or anything. Locals probably don't know much English either.
Jun's stomach suddenly growls, making the girl chuckle and pull out an apple from her bag. They left without a dinner, so she had to make sure her big child was fed.
He beams at the sight of food. "Nadya, you're an angel." He grabs his friend's face and squeezes it.
Nadya took long enough on her makeup and won't let him ruin it, so she pinches the guy. He jumps away immodestly with an offended look. Nadya grabs another apple for herself. "You're welcome."
"I need to go to the toilet," complains Jun for the hundredth time. That guy. Where would they even find one?
"What do you expect me to do? I can't spawn one."
He rolls his eyes subtly. "Offer me emotional support."
Now it's Nadya's time to roll her eyes. "Just go look around; maybe you'll find one. I'll stay over here," Nadya tells him, but he doesn't budge. Is he seriously considering annoying her and possibly peeing his pants? "You want me to hold your hand or something? Go!"
Jun grumbles before disappearing into the crowd. A gush of wind grazes against Nafia's cheeks, making her wish she dressed a bit warmer. Without Jun, it's kind of scary and lonely. He should hurry. It's been fifteen minutes, and Nadya is already going insane.
She feels a presence behind her but does not dare to check. They're breathing down her neck. "Your bag is unzipped," one of the guys behind her comments in a bit of broken English. Her eyes snap to the zipper; she must have forgotten it after the apples.
"Ah. Thank you," Nadya mutters and looks away.
The guy doesn't get the hint. "Are you by yourself?" he grins. She is with an idiot who probably got lost in his home country. She is alone.
"With my boyfriend. He should be back any time," she says. Partly. Jun is probably coming back, but he is not her boyfriend. The mention of a boyfriend usually scares the creeps away, though.
"Well, he is not here, so I am shooting my shot," he comments, and Nadya's head snaps towards him.
"We are happy together. Sorry, not interested," Nadya utters. She is going to kill Jun for taking this long. Or maybe these guys will kill her. Or both of them.
"Come on. We can go to my place," he grins
Nadya is fed up with this point and is willing to cause a scene. "No thanks," she says, maybe with a bit too much attitude.
He takes that as a challenge and grips the girl's wrist. Nadya yanks her hand away and starts walking away. Screw Jun, she has to save herself.
"Where do you think you're going?" One of them reaches out, but Nadya just darts into the crowd. She has never felt this hopeless in her entire life. She is being chased by a bunch of guys, and no one bats an eye.
Nadya turns her head to see if they're still chasing and bumps into someone. A guy. How wonderful. This one looks nice, at least. He grabs Nadya's forearm, preventing her from splashing on the ground.
"Sorry." Only then does Nadya wonder if he knows English.
"You're welcome," he answers lightheartedly. His thick accent doesn't slip past the girl. Foreign one.
The guys chasing her come rushing, and she decides to use the guy as a shield. He is well-built. The guys stop and laugh. "Look, here is the boyfriend."
The human shield extends an arm in front of Nadya. "The boyfriend is here, so you're free to go," the stranger states, and with one last glare, the boys leave. Once they're not in sight, the stranger turns towards Nadya.
"Thank you," Nadya utters.
He nods and smiles, but looks into the distance. Nadya follows his glance toward a group of sour boys. "My pleasure. Those gremlins over there are my friends. You're free to join," he points at the small group of guys. Sadly, Nadya had enough men for one day.
"Tempting offer, but I need to go back; my friend might be back from the toilet," she excuses herself, and he nods.
"Well, I'm Chan, and if you need saving, I'll be over there," he points at the structure that somewhat looks like a tent.
"I'll have that in mind," Nadya says, smiling before rushing to her original spot.
There, she finds a confused Jun. "What the hell? I thought you got kidnapped!" he says, raising his voice at his friend.
Nadya raises an accusing finger. "Don't you dare! While you were taking your time, I almost did."
"Somebody tried to kidnap you!?"
"Yes, I luckily ran into a nice guy who saved me," Nadya explains shortly.
Then Jun grins. Her mistake. He won't ever refuse a chance to ogle pretty guys. "Was he good-looking?"
"Definitely."
Jun almost starts screeching. "I've been gone for what? Ten minutes? And you found yourself a boy," he says, patting my shoulder. "I'm proud of you."
Then Nadya finally lands the punch she was holding off. "Nothing like that. He helped me and offered to stay with them in case those guys come back," Nadya tells him.
He blinks at her processing and doesn't let a single good idea enter his head. "Why are you here, then?"
"I came back for you, idiot."
"Well, we are going now. Where are they? I need to see the knight with my own eyes." Jun glances around as if he knows what he is looking for.
"I'm not taking you there just because there's a hot guy you want to see," Nadya argues. She is never taking him anywhere again. He continues to embarrass her.
"I just wanted to thank him. Personally," he adds, trying to seem convincing.
"Sure," the girl scoffs and completely dismisses the idea. That is, until a certain group of guys appears in her vision. "Shit," she utters, grabbing onto Jun's forearm.
Nadya doesn't curse much, so she gets Jun's attention immediately. Jun checks where the girl is looking and asks, "Are those the guys that tried?"
"Yep," Nadya cuts him short and pulls him along, "you are going to see the mysterious, hot guy after all." Jun is a total twink. He is not going to scare them away like that Chan guy did. He is none of use in a physical fight.
Nadya drags her friend to the tent she was hoping not to see again. Chan immediately approaches her upon seeing her. "Hey," he mutters.
"Hey. I didn't want to bother you guys, but...”
He cuts her off dismissively. "It's fine, really. Your boyfriend, I assume," he points at Jun, who just stares at the majestic guy in front of him.
"Oh. God no. He is not even into girls," I announce, disgusted by the idea of dating Jun. We are more siblings than we will ever be lovers.
Chan chokes on air, struck by Nadya's bluntness. Jun is open to the public and not ashamed a bit. Chan finally extends an arm towards her friend and says, "Hi. I'm Chan."
"Jun," he answers, completely dumbstruck.
A guy appears, suddenly furrowing his dark eyebrows. "The show is about to start. What are you doing?" he addresses Chan, but spares a glance towards the pair.
Chan's friend is a little taller and lankier, but equally as pretty. He's got dark eyes, sharp features, and long black hair reaching his shoulders. A prince from fairytales.
He eyes Jun skeptically, and then our eyes meet and stop there for a second. At that moment, fireworks go off, making the girl jump a bit and look away. He might be the prettiest man she has ever seen, but she is here for the fireworks. Besides, he is looking down on her. He is a bit intimidating.
They are slightly uphill, so no one is blocking their view, and it is breathtaking. Nadya takes a few steps away from the guys toward the safety fences. Flashes of color lit up the sky as well as her soul in colors she could hardly imagine.
The fireworks last for what looks like an eternity, but Nadya will miss them dearly. The last pop echoes, followed by cheers, but in Nadya's heart, something is already missing. Then it's dead silence. A hand brushes past her shoulder, making the girl jump and look back. To no one's surprise, it's just Jun.
"Chan offered us to stay for drinks," he announces.
Nadya is far too gone to comprehend. She only wants to go home. "Tell him we are thankful but can't stay," she says, and Jun frowns. "Come on. We have so many preparations for the show tomorrow," she tells Jun. Nadya is not as easygoing as he is. He likes things done on time.
"Show?" Chan asks after appearing out of seemingly nowhere.
"Yes. We are here with a circus. Tomorrow is the first show of the tour. We are all sold out, but I'm sure we could figure out something if you want to come," Jun offers. Nadya shakes her head, but he doesn't pay attention.
She finds it ridiculous that he is inviting guys for free just because he thinks they are attractive. It was a stupid idea only Jun would have.
"Circus? That's fun. We flew here for work reasons too," he admits cheerfully.
"From where?" Jun questions.
"South Korea."
Well, it's obvious that it's not from the north. "You don't sound Korean," Nadya points out.
"I've been raised in Australia," he explains.
Jun jumps excitedly. "What is it like there?"
"Hot, humid, bugs everywhere," Chans shrugs as if it's normal. Nadya scrunches her face; she sees nothing inviting about that country. Chan smiles at her, probably reading her mind.
"Yeah. Take Australia off of the setlist."