Joshua Hong X Reader - Tumblr Posts

reader and chuu rn:

I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE WHERE THIS GOES AAAAAA

What the Fuck is Up with Secretary Hong? Pt. 4 - A Silly Little Situation

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Noooo THIS WAS SO CUTE!!!🥺🥺 MY HEART!!!

‘ SHIPPED ’ | joshua hong

synopsis : the one where the students of pledis uni are wondering if their two favorite professors are actually dating <3

genre/s : one-shot smau, university au, professors au, pure fluff, gn!reader

from reese, with love <3 face the sun pioneer photos ??? going crazy going feral i- this era is going to break me i can feel it,,, anyways- my brainrot is stronger than ever so i offer u this ,,, thank you for reading, as always id love to know what u think !! going back into academic hell now 🥲 take care, everyone:)

meet my blue ❋ hong jisoo

❋ plot: joshua hong doesn't really do love, but when you tumble into his life in a splash of color, he falls hard. and maybe you were right about those grays in the first place.

❋ pairing: joshua x f!reader

❋ words: 1.96k

❋ genre: fluff // strangers to lovers au, she fell ??? but he fell harder & faster, all hail lee seokmin, little bit of friendly chaos

❋ warnings: there's like one swear

❋ notes: surprise??? here's a short lil piece while i'm working on primrose lane <33 as always, please reblog & leave feedback to show support, it means the world to me! ily all and thank you so much for reading ❤️ (also i'm thinking of having a general taglist so if ur interested in that pls send an ask!)

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Unlike his best friend, Joshua has never been a hopeless romantic, or even a romantic in general. He just can’t fathom how you give your entire heart to someone after such a short time of knowing them. After all, he guards himself far too well to be able to fall in love that intensely, so he figures Seokmin is just fundamentally built different.

All of that ends up changing in the paint aisle at the local hardware store.

Joshua’s there picking up a color or two for his room in the apartment he shares with Seokmin, debating between two different shades of gray (what’s the difference between platinum and slate, anyway?) when you walk up beside him, eyeing the wall of blues eagerly. He silently watches out of the corner of his eye as you settle for the cerulean and stand on your toes trying to reach for the shelf where the bucket is.

Usually, he would have just made up his mind and walked away, minding his own business. Usually…

“Here,” he says finally, plucking the paint off of the shelf with ease and handing it to you. “You wanted this one, right?”

The smile you give him is nearly blinding. “Yes! Thank you so much,” you reply. “It’s such a pretty color, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he says slowly, glancing at the bucket on your arm. You’ve got several colorful shades in there, plus a tube of bright orange. “You got an art project or something?”

“Sort of? I’m painting a friend’s wall for him, just a small favor.” You gesture towards him. “What about you?”

“Me?” Joshua stares down at the drab colors he’s got with him and subconsciously deflates a little. “I’m redoing my walls, too. My roommate decided to go all out with his room and then he convinced me to do something new, so here I am, I guess.”

“What color was your room before?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.

“... Brown.”

You look mildly unimpressed with his answer, and Joshua isn’t really sure why that disappoints him a little bit.

“Maybe you should go all out, too,” you suggest. “Do something new, like he said. Put some color in there. That,” you nod towards the buckets of gray in his cart, “is going to look supremely depressing after a few months.”

Joshua struggles to defend himself. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with neutral colors, right?”

“Think about it,” is all you say with a small, knowing smile. “All you have to do is try.”

And really, none of what you’ve said is wrong, but it’s all very new to him. He can only look on quietly as you say you need to go and brush past him in a flurry of floral orange and white, leaving him and his nondescript grays in the middle of the aisle.

Joshua ends up buying those buckets anyways. He just wishes he’d remembered to ask for your name.

It is way too early for all this noise.

Granted, it’s almost noon, and Joshua doesn’t have a good reason to still be in bed at this time, but the ruckus coming from Seokmin’s room is making it really hard for him to lie there and contemplate life in peace. Then again, it’s not anything new, after nearly a decade long friendship between the two of them.

He’s made up his mind to leave his buddy alone, but the next loud clattering noise on the other side of the wall has Joshua dragging himself up and out of his room, knocking on his roommate’s door.

“Come in, Shua!”

“Seok,” he starts tiredly, stepping past the doorway, “I don’t mind you having people over at all, but I really have to ask, can you just try and k —” He freezes mid-sentence at the sight of you on his best friend’s floor, fingers covered in paint and a bit of yellow on your nose. “Huh?”

“Huh?” you echo after him in surprise, setting your paintbrush down. “Hardware store guy?”

Seokmin looks at you, then at Joshua, in utter confusion. “Do you two know each other?”

Neither of you say anything for a few moments, until you finally process what’s going on and manage to speak again.

“No, but we did run into each other while buying paint the other day,” you explain, shifting so you can sit cross-legged on the floor. Joshua notices how you end up staining your pants even further with the color on your fingertips. Despite himself, he finds it adorable. “This is the roommate who convinced you to repaint your room?”

“Yeah.” Joshua clears his throat. “And he’s also the friend you’re doing a favor for, apparently.”

“Yep! I’m his friend’s cousin, actually, if you know who Seungkwan is. I went to art school,” you gesture towards your supplies, “so I’ve been doing stuff like this here and there for a while now.”

“That’s really cool,” he replies honestly, and he sees the smile grow on your face at his small compliment. There’s just something about you that makes him want to come out of his shell. “I have to say, I did go home with three buckets of slate gray that afternoon. Sorry to disappoint.”

This draws a hearty laugh out of you. Pretty, is the first word that pops into Joshua’s head. “That’s okay,” you say. “It’s all a matter of personal preference anyway. If you like it, you like it.”

You’re so genuine with your response that it makes Joshua even more fond of you. He was so sure you would judge him for his taste, but he welcomes the appreciative feeling your words give him.

“Alright, you two, I’ve got to go pick up our lunch now,” Seokmin interrupts your conversation while reading something off of his phone. “I ordered honey chicken for you, Shua, is that okay?”

“Yeah, fine by me.”

“Cool!” Seokmin beams at the two of you, hopping off the edge of the bed. “I’ll be back in thirty-ish minutes. You guys keep yourselves busy, alright?”

Both of you call out your assent as he leaves, and you invite Joshua to come sit beside you. He’s only now aware of how he must look — freshly out of bed, wearing his most worn out clothes and hair a complete mess — but you don’t seem to care. You exchange names and tell him a bit about yourself to pass the time and he watches as you work, covering the wall with a sunset spectrum of pink and orange hues and a little bit of yellow here and there. 

It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.

By the time Seokmin returns, you’re halfway through putting details on a rosebush, and the boys convince you to take a short break to eat with them out on the balcony. Joshua takes this opportunity to pull a chair over and sit beside you again.

“How long will you be here?” he asks.

“Overall? Probably a week or so,” you answer, “but today I’ll most likely wrap up pretty soon. I told my boss I’d be back at the studio by two o’clock, so there’s not much time left.”

Joshua nods, taking another bite of his chicken. He wishes you could stay a little longer, wishes he could watch you work your magic with those colors, but he knows you have to go.

When you’ve finally washed your hands and gotten your stuff packed up, Joshua sees you out and walks you to the end of the apartment complex in Seokmin’s absence. What can he say? He just likes to be around you and the calm cheerfulness you exude.

“See you tomorrow,” he says quietly as you slip on your shoes. 

“See you, Joshua,” you return sweetly.

God, he loves the sight of your smile, and the sound of his name on your tongue. Tomorrow really couldn’t come any sooner.

If there’s one thing Joshua’s noticed over the past several days, it’s that you’re extremely talented. You’ve finished painting two walls already, and they look amazing, all of your efforts having paid off.

He’s taken to sitting with you as you work, regardless of whether Seokmin’s there or not. He just likes keeping you company, and he dares to think that you like having him around too, going by the way you smile at him and blush furiously at his every compliment.

You have him rethinking every colorless, dull moment of his life, because you’re right. You’ve always been right. Maybe it’s time he looked on the bright side.

“Hey,” he breaks the silence while you’re covering a blue square. “Do you… are you doing anything tonight?”

“Hmm? Tonight?” You brush some hair off your forehead, smearing paint on your skin. Cute, he thinks. “Why?”

That question catches him completely off guard, and he stumbles over his own words trying to formulate a proper response. Smooth, he berates himself, now you’ve come across as a total fool—

“Joshua Hong, are you trying to ask me out?”

“What?”

It’s nearly comical how you’re both just staring at each other, and he watches you widen your eyes and shake your head after a few quiet seconds.

“Shit, sorry, I thought… maybe — it’s fine, really, I was just —”

“You’re right.”

“What?” It’s your turn to be stunned this time, and Joshua thinks you’re absolutely adorable. 

“I am. Asking you out, I mean,” he says, a bit bashful. “I was wondering if you wanted to spend time together later this evening, just the two of us.”

You reach out to place a palm over his arm and he finds that he doesn’t mind the paint stains you manage to bring literally everywhere with you. He’ll wear it proudly, if it means it was from you.

“Joshua, I really would love that,” you say sincerely, “but I promised my sister I’d meet her for dinner tonight, so I don’t think today is a good time.”

He can’t help but be a little disappointed, but he doesn’t miss that first part. How could he? It keeps ringing in his head, and for someone who’s kept his heart close for his whole life, he can’t believe how easy it is to give it away to you right now.

“That’s alright,” he says. “Later, then?”

“Later,” you agree with one of your beaming smiles. It’s all the answer he needs. Joshua’s perfectly content with this anyway, just sitting with you in Seokmin’s room (he’s never in there anymore anyways, choosing to give you some privacy) and letting you finish your work in peace. 

Fortunately for him, later comes in the form of a surprise text one afternoon right when he’s about to settle down for a quick nap.

you: hey

you: any chance i can take you up on that time together offer?

Joshua nearly falls out of his bed before he can calm himself down enough to tell you that yes, you can, any day and anytime.

That day ends with smiles on both of your faces, and an extremely enthusiastic ‘I told you so’ from Seokmin (“You’re going to have to speak to Seungkwan later, you know!”) — it may be a lot to deal with, but Joshua doesn’t really care. He’ll handle it all later. For now, the cool breeze in your hair and the soft kiss he presses to your forehead is all he has to think about. You are all that’s on his mind.

He insists on walking you home as the sun sets, deep in his thoughts, and you can read him easily. 

“What’s up?”

“Hm?”

You squeeze his hand gently. “What’s on your mind?”

“Oh, I was just thinking,” Joshua chuckles, pulling you a little closer into his side. “You were right, you know. I suppose it’s about time I get rid of that slate gray, isn’t it?”

thank you for reading! come talk/give feedback/ask questions in my inbox, or rb to show support! sending love, aichi ♡

Seventeen Fic Recommendations

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Please view the writer's fic for warnings, and a summary of the fic. Show the writer some appreciation.

MDNI

I reblog from @dibidibifanfics

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(M)(F) (Boy) Friend Material *2 part story*

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Calico

Choi Y/N is pretty, smart, and funny and she knows it - mostly because she hears it all the time from the men (read: victims) she dates. She's about to get a taste of her own medicine.

Pairing: Joshua x female reader; mentions of Mingyu x female reader, Woozi x female reader, Seokmin x female reader, Jeonghan x female reader Genres: (a little) fluff, (quite a bit of) angst, smut, college au

Word count: 31k

TW/CW: MDNI, contains smut with no protection mentioned (be safe please!!), mentions of alcohol, food, a whole lot of cyber bullying, mentions of some tough family dynamics such as divorce.

A/N: The way these characters are written in no way indicates reality as this is entirely a work of fiction. This was initially inspired by John Tucker Must Die, but took a left turn or two as it came together.

Recommended playlist: Calico by DPR Ian; Easy by Jaehyun; Lie to Girls by Sabrina Carpenter

Act One

Joshua carefully ties the black apron around his waist. He’s in a pair of black slacks, a black button down shirt, and a black tie - the required uniform that’s way nicer than some of the ones he’s had to wear before. It’s only his third week at one of the many upscale sushi places in town. Minghao, his new roommate, had recommended him for a job and the manager had blindly agreed without really looking at Joshua’s resume. The manager said they needed the help since school was going to be back in session soon and they expected an influx of foot traffic. That worked perfectly for Joshua because while the hourly wage left a little to be desired as a lot of waiting jobs did, the tips were good here and he didn’t mind eating sushi everyday on his break. 

This wasn’t Joshua’s first waiting job, so he didn’t need a manager to tell him what to do when he arrived for his shift. On his first day, he’d had exactly two hours of training before the shift leader said he didn’t need it. He found out which section he’d be waiting on tonight and when the hostess led a couple to one of his tables, he was right behind them. 

With a practiced smile, he greeted them. “Good evening. I’m Joshua, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Have you been here before?”

The woman smiles and looks to the man she’s with. He shakes his head, an easy grin on his face. Joshua tells them about the specials and points out some popular items on the menu, before taking their drink orders. 

The thing is, this woman has definitely been here - just not with the man she’s with tonight. In fact, she was here last week and the week before with another man. He glances at them curiously while he waits for the bartender to fix their drinks. The man is handsome and clearly spends a lot of time in the gym. And the woman is beautiful, model-like even. Maybe they’re just friends, he thinks. Pretty people like that tend to flock together. Then he sees them reach out to hold hands across the table. They look like the picture perfect couple. Just like she did with the guy last week too. 

Minghao approaches the bar in a matching uniform and apron, giving his table’s drink orders to the bartender. Then he follows Joshua’s eyes. Joshua’s surprised when he chuckles. 

“Do you know them?” 

Minghao shakes his head. “Not personally. I’d kind of prefer to keep it that way. They go to school with us.” 

Joshua hums. Classes haven’t started yet, so he wouldn’t have known that. He’s a transfer student and knows next to nothing about his potential classmates, or campus yet for that matter beyond the dorm and the student union. He’s hoping Minghao will give him a tour in the next few days so he doesn’t look like a total freshman with a printed map from the Admissions office. 

“They’re cute together. Have they been dating long?” Joshua doesn’t mean anything by the question because he’s just curious and making small talk. Minghao’s nice but they don’t know each other well yet. He’s surprised at how amused Minghao looks at the question.

“Uh, no. And it won’t last either.”

Joshua gives him a perplexed look. “How do you know that?”

“Choi Y/N doesn’t stay with anyone for long. She even likes to see a few at once sometimes from what I hear, not that the poor bastards ever know it until it’s too late. I doubt that even Kim Mingyu will keep her attention for longer than a few weeks.” 

Joshua shrugs, gathering the drinks that the bartender slides him. As long as they were paying the bill at the end of dinner, he didn’t care too much who she came to dinner with. He delivers their drinks with the same practiced smile and takes their orders. He checks on them a couple times while they eat and when the time comes, he swipes Kim Mingyu’s card for the bill and they leave. He buses the table quickly and moves on with his night. 

Whatever Choi Y/N did was really none of his business, though he felt kind of bad for Kim Mingyu. The guy looked like he was already in love. 

~

“Are you out to ruin my life?” 

Y/N raises an eyebrow at Seungcheol in amusement. “Yes, literally since we were evicted from the womb.”

Her twin brother drops his back pack into a chair and slams the tray of food on the table across from her, plopping down. “First of all, you have to stop saying that. You’re a biology major, you know there’s a more appropriate way to say that.” 

“I’m just calling it what Eomma does! She reminds us every August,” Y/N says innocently. Their mother had even given them a cake with ‘Happy Eviction Day’ written on it in icing a couple weeks ago. It was their 22nd birthday and they were away for most of the year for school. She wasn’t kicking them out now because she’d already done that in the ‘most important’ way 22 years ago. 

Seungcheol is not impressed. “Second of all,” he says forcefully, “I’m trying to run a basketball team here! I’ve told you that you cannot mess with my players.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. Kim Mingyu had not taken her turning down another date very well. He’d taken her out a handful of times and he checked a lot of boxes or she wouldn’t have gone out with him otherwise. He was handsome, had a nice body, was intelligent, and was very giving in bed. But she didn’t really feel a spark, so Y/N declined to see him again this week.

“Is going on a few dates ‘messing with your players’ now? You didn’t complain before.” 

“That’s because he was a freshman. I wasn’t giving him any playing time anyway,” Seungcheol seethed, but Y/N knew there was something exaggerated about it. Call it twin telepathy. “Kim Mingyu, on the other hand, is one of my starters and he’s been sucking ass all week. Air balls every time, no defense to speak of, tripping over his own feet. You’ve ruined yet another one.”

“Ruined is such a strong word,” Y/N said lightly, picking at her lunch. It was spaghetti day at the student union and it wasn’t her favorite, but she didn’t have time to run back to the sorority house for anything between classes and office hours for her TA position. 

“Ruined what?” Jeonghan says, sliding into the seat next to Y/N with his tray. 

“She’s out to ruin my team again!” Seungcheol cries, putting emphasis on ‘again’, but he should know he won’t get any sympathy here. 

Jeonghan laughs, pushing his tray to touch Y/N’s. He plops two pieces of garlic bread on her tray before stealing half of her spaghetti. Y/N doesn’t try to stop him because this is such an old habit that there would be no point. They’ve been splitting meals since they first started eating solid foods as babies. Seungcheol had never been much of a sharer, but Y/N didn’t mind it. Plus, she really wants the garlic bread and Jeonghan knows it. He can sweet talk the lunch lady better than she can to get an extra piece every now and then. “Mingyu didn’t take it well, huh?”

“He did not,” Y/N answers in a sing-song voice. 

“I’m surrounded by monsters.” Seungcheol is full on pouting now, but Y/N and Jeonghan have known him too long for it to have an effect. 

“Eat your food, Cheol,” Y/N insists. He probably only listens because he’s hungry, but Y/N would like to think it’s because she’s a few minutes older. 

“What are you guys doing on Friday?” Jeonghan asks them. “I was thinking about going to see that new horror movie.”

“I’m free, but does it have to be a horror movie? Can it be literally anything else?” Seungcheol asked, swatting Y/N’s hand away when she reached across the table to pinch his cheek. Among them, Y/N and Jeonghan were the horror fans, and Seungcheol hid behind his hands the whole time. He had for years. 

“Yes, it has to be a horror movie. You picked a stupid romcom last time,” Jeonghan teased. “It’s my turn. Are you free?” He turns to Y/N.

Between bites of garlic bread, Y/N shakes her head. “No, I have a date. I’ll have to catch it another day.”

Jeonghan shrugs. “Suit yourself. We’re still talking about it after we both see it though.” 

“Who’s the next victim?” Seungcheol chortles. Y/N isn’t surprised that he’s already over his pouting. 

“You and these strong words,” Y/N admonishes. “Dating me doesn’t make someone a victim. Would you say the same thing about the girls Jeonghan dates?”

“Yes,” Seungcheol deadpans. Y/N and Jeonghan both show no reaction to the insult. “Now who is it? Please tell me it’s no one else from the basketball team. I already have to rethink my starters.”

“Lee Seokmin,” Y/N gives a dreamy smile. 

“Let me guess, he’s the one this time,” Jeonghan teases.

“Just like everyone else before him,” Seungcheol tacks on with a chuckle. “Where’d you meet the poor guy?”

Y/N is unfazed by their teasing. “Creative writing class. He’s so sweet, and funny, and have you seen his arms?”

They haven’t, but this sort of comment doesn’t surprise them. Y/N was a little bit of a hopeless romantic. She believed in love at first sight and seemed to feel it frequently, but she also seemed to fall out of love just as fast. But that pattern didn’t seem to matter because just about any straight man on campus would wait their turn patiently, and even some women. Seungcheol and Jeonghan both knew it. All she had to do is bat her eyes and smile sweetly and people were falling at her feet. She just had that sort of affect on people without even realizing it.

“Be gentle,” Seungcheol reminds like he knows where this is going to go. 

“No, I feel really good about this one, Cheol,” Y/N insists animatedly. “What’s not to like?”

“Whatever you say, angel,” Jeonghan placates. “I hope it goes well.” 

It did go well. Really well, in fact. Seokmin was a total gentleman as much as he was a total goofball. It looked like the waiter wanted to kick them out with how disruptive they were being during dinner, so they cut dinner short and went for a walk around the park. He held her hand and offered her his jacket when she got cold. When they arrive at the front door of the sorority house, he presses a kiss to the back of her hand and doesn’t move until she’s inside and has locked the door. Perfect. Gentleman. 

Y/N collapses into bed that night with a dreamy sigh. When her phone vibrates with a text from Seokmin, she immediately agrees to go out with him again. 

~

Lee Seokmin is riding on a high. Things are good. Classes only started a couple weeks ago, but they seem like they’ll be a breeze. This gives him plenty of time to prepare for his upcoming audition in the fall play that the Theatre department is putting on. He thinks he might actually have a shot at the lead role this time. His friend, Junhui, thinks so too after running lines with him. 

And then there’s Y/N. Seokmin sighs dreamily. She’s pretty, funny, and smart - the full package. They share a creative writing class this semester and when they were paired up to peer review their first assignment, he’s not sure what possessed him, but he just shot his shot. Amazingly, she said yes. And their date had gone so well that he didn’t hesitate long to ask for another one. And she’d said yes to that too! 

He’s been unable to wipe the dopey smile off his face as he walks into the library and finds his group members already there. They were asked to pair up for a semester long project in their psychology course and it was simple to look around and find the two guys sitting closest to him in the back of the class. Neither of them seemed to care who they were partnered up with either, so they exchanged numbers and agreed to meet this afternoon. 

He knew of Kim Mingyu, the star basketball player. He didn’t know of Lee Jihoon until this class. He was apparently a music major and spent a lot of time in the Fine Arts building. Both guys greet him as he sits down. They’re friendly, but not overly so, which makes sense because they’d never had a conversation before last week. “You seem way too cheerful,” Jihoon comments lightly, though Seokmin’s not sure he really cares for a response. 

“Just in a good mood,” Seokmin chirps. 

Mingyu is not nice, not today anyway. He sighs grumpily, opening his laptop. “I have some things to do in a bit. Can we get started?” 

They have to propose an experiment or case study in a couple weeks, which they will turn in by the end of the semester. It could be on any Psychology topic, which offers an overwhelming amount of options as they flip through the textbook. After a few internet searches, they start offering suggestions. Jihoon proposes that they do something with music - maybe how someone’s music taste correlates with their personality. He says there are already so many personality tests out there that they can use and they’d just have to build a simple survey for music tastes. Mingyu recommends something to do with testing short term memory, like a brain game of some sort which they can just recruit their friends for. Something easy to set up, time, and pop into a graph. Seokmin is intrigued by the idea of peoples’ perceptions of beauty and how facial symmetry impacts it. It’s admittedly less thought through than the other ideas because he doesn’t have any idea how to carry out an experiment like that - but give him a break! He’s a theatre major! He wouldn’t be in this class at all if it wasn’t a requirement!

“Do you have a model with perfect facial symmetry that we can borrow for that experiment if we choose it?” Jihoon asks and Seokmin knows he’s not asking seriously. 

Still Seokmin says, “Yes!” Then, he hums. “Well, I don’t know if she’s ever modeled, but I think she’d fit the bill. It’s the girl I’ve been seeing.” 

Jihoon and Mingyu don’t look totally displeased with the idea. “Oh? Let me see,” Mingyu insists. Seokmin feels really proud to show off Y/N’s latest Instagram photo. That is, until Mingyu takes one look at Seokmin’s phone and spits, “Oh, fuck no!”

Jihoon grabs the phone and Seokmin is hoping for a better reaction. He doesn’t get it. Jihoon scoffs, rolling his eyes so hard his head rolls back. 

“What? You guys don’t think she’s pretty?!” Seokmin says loudly, almost forgetting he’s in a library. It’s such a crazy concept to him because she’s not the campus it girl for nothing. He’s known her name for two years now for a reason.

“Yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s a raging bitch,” Mingyu says heatedly. Seokmin is taken aback. Y/N seemed so sweet, Mingyu must have the wrong idea. 

Jihoon snorts. “Yeah, something like that.” 

Seokmin locks his phone, confused. “Have you guys met her or something?” 

“Who hasn’t?” Mingyu rolls his eyes. 

Jihoon shakes his head, looking at Seokmin with pity. “Man, take my word for it. That’s going nowhere fast.” 

“No? She seems so sweet.” Seokmin sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. 

“Mhm,” Jihoon hums. “Tell me, where did she want to go for your first date?” 

Seokmin frowns. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Let me guess,” Mingyu looked at Seokmin pointedly. “That sushi place on the north side of campus? Near the hospital?” 

Seokmin frowns deeper, voice turning small. “How did you know that?”

“That’s where she and I went a few weeks ago, before she dumped me. I got exactly three dates with her,” Mingyu snapped. Seokmin couldn’t tell if this anger was directed at her or maybe directed at him for being the next guy she dated. 

Jihoon laughs coldly. “Same, except it was over the summer.” 

Seokmin huffs defensively. “There’s nothing wrong with dating around. Besides, things are going well. We really clicked!” 

“How many dates have you had?” Mingyu asked. Seokmin meekly answers and Mingyu nods, lips pursed. “Then you have two more at the most. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Needless to say, we can do your idea, but we won’t be using her as a model,” Jihoon tacks on. 

Now, Seokmin isn’t one to be deterred. He really likes Y/N, so he agrees with Jihoon’s experiment idea if only to move on with the day. He's sure that Mingyu and Jihoon have it all wrong. They’re just bitter that it didn’t work out with someone as perfect as her. Seokmin had forgotten to ask, but he’s so sure they must have done something to run her off. 

The next night, he picks Y/N up from the sorority house and they have a great time going to see a musical at the community theatre. She seems tired by the time they get back to the sorority house, so he kisses her on the cheek and lets her go in. After all, she said she’d had cheer practice earlier that afternoon. He keeps that in mind for scheduling future dates. 

For their third date, Seokmin finds himself at the movie theater watching the latest horror movie. He is not a horror fan by a long shot, but he’s not brave enough to tell her that when she suggests it. She seems totally unfazed by every single gory scene and jump scare, while Seokmin is doing everything he can to keep it together. Not his best night. 

But she’s sweet and holds his hand throughout the movie. He shyly apologizes when they stop in front of the sorority house and says that horror is not his typical choice. She shrugs and kisses his cheek before going inside. 

A few days later, Seokmin sends Y/N a message asking if he can take her out again. He’s walking to the library to meet his psych group members when the fated text comes through. ‘Hi Seokmin! Thank you for the offer. You’re so sweet, but I don’t think I’m interested in pursuing anything further with you. I’m sorry and I hope you understand!’

Seokmin hates how smug Kim Mingyu looks when Seokmin slumps in his chair with none of the cheerfulness he had last time they met. “We were right, weren’t we?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Seokmin mumbled. He thinks he might cry so he busies himself with his laptop. 

Jihoon pats his back a couple times. “That’s tough, man. I wish we hadn’t been right, but you know…”

“No, I don’t know. I have no clue what I did wrong,” Seokmin lamented, frustration bleeding into his voice. 

“That’s just what she does,” Mingyu shrugs. He’s not so angry now, maybe because misery loves company. Maybe because the guy after him also got dumped. 

Jihoon cursed. “Speak of the devil.” 

Mingyu and Seokmin follow Jihoon’s eyes and Seokmin really thinks he might cry. Y/N is standing with Jeong Jaehyun near the History section half way across the second floor balcony, but they aren’t really looking at the books. He’s leaning way too close to whisper in her ear and Y/N’s hand lands on his chest. Seokmin hopes it’s to push him away, but it’s not. She gives him the same sweet smile when he pulls away from her ear.

“Damn, she moves fast,” Jihoon mutters. “When did she break it off with you?” 

Seokmin’s head is in his hands. “She sent me a message on my way here.” He doesn’t have to look up because he hears the hiss of sympathy both of them let out. They’d at least had a few days to breathe before they found out she’d already moved on to someone else. 

“Come on,” Mingyu says, standing up to pack his bag. “We can do this over drinks, right? You look like you need one.”

Seokmin doesn’t have much to say, even when a glass of liquor is put in front of him, along with a plate of greasy bar food. Mingyu and Jihoon have plenty to say though. 

Jihoon met Y/N over the summer at a bar. His friends wanted to get him out of the house and he’d begrudgingly agreed. He met Y/N while he was getting himself a drink and he thought she was gorgeous, but he didn’t say anything to her initially besides a simple ‘excuse me’. While he was waiting for his drink though, she gave him a heart stopping smile and introduced herself. Now, Jihoon admits that he’s not the warmest person, but Y/N is and it was totally disarming.

However, after three dates, she said he was sweet, but she just wasn’t interested in pursuing anything further with him. 

Mingyu knew her through his captain from the basketball team - she’s his twin. He had always been enamored with her but he saw a revolving door of men around her all the time and was just waiting for the right moment. That opportunity presented itself at the twins’ birthday party in early August. He gave her a little gift and she gave him a heart stopping smile. They hooked up that night and then went on three subsequent dates. 

But just like Jihoon, she said he was sweet, but she just wasn’t interested in pursuing anything further with him. 

Seokmin could openly weep now with how obviously he’d been played because she’d used that exact phrase in her text. Mingyu and Jihoon seem genuinely sympathetic. “Don’t take it personally. We’re far from the first victims,” Jihoon insists. “If it makes you feel any better, Jaehyun is just next in line for the slaughter.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m sure of it,” Mingyu adds. “Maybe one day she’ll get a taste of her own medicine.” At this point, they’ve all abandoned the idea of working on their project, backpacks sitting on the grimy bar floor under the table. This little therapy session is more important to them it seems. 

“Wouldn’t that be nice? Someone to reel her in only to toss her out?” Jihoon chortled. It seems unlikely given everything he’s seen and heard now. She seems to do most of the reeling in and tossing out. 

Seokmin’s not sure that would make him feel better anyway. He finishes his dinner and drink, agreeing to meet them again in a couple days to actually do some work on their proposal. Seokmin goes to bed early that night.

~

“Jeong Jaehyun, huh?” Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at Y/N as they eat a late lunch. They’re sitting in the courtyard today to get some sun. Seungcheol is in class, so it’s just the two of them. 

Y/N gives him a big smile. “Yeah. He asked me out earlier this week. Isn’t he cute?”

“So cute,” Jeonghan snorts. She knows he doesn’t give a shit about how cute Jaehyun is. “What happened to Lee Seokmin? Or are you doubling up again?” He doesn’t mean it unkindly, just curiously. It would be hypocritical of him to give her a hard time about it anyway because he’s been known to do the same thing on occasion. 

Y/N’s smile dims a little. “He took me to a musical and he doesn’t like horror movies.”

“Ah,” Jeonghan laughs at her misfortune. “Did you tell him you hate musicals? And that liking horror movies is kind of a requirement?” 

Y/N sighs. “I was hoping the musical would be tolerable. He’s such a sweet guy and seemed excited about it. And he didn’t say anything about it when I suggested the horror movie, but then he nearly broke my hand. It wasn’t even that scary, was it?!” This last part is plea for understanding. 

Jeonghan agrees instantly, though he doesn’t really need to. They’d already talked about how bad it was for hours. “No, it was very lame and incredibly predictable. 3/10 at best.”

“Right?!” Y/N scoffs. “Anyway, I’m going out with Jaehyun on Friday. Don’t tell Seungcheol.”

“I’m sure I don’t have to… Jaehyun has been bragging constantly about it, and you know how locker room talk gets around, particularly with the basketball team,” Jeonghan explains. After a beat, he adds, “Maybe you should be careful with this one. Don’t put out right away at least. Make him work for it a little.”

Y/N hums. “Maybe. You know it’s never really about that though. Plus, you know I don’t care about the locker room talk.”

Jeonghan pats her hand comfortingly. “I know, angel.” He does know both of those things. He knows how she gets swept up in the romance of it all at first, or at least the idea of it, and if sex happens then it happens. And he also knows that she’s great at ignoring the locker room talk later because she’s already moved on by the time it gets back around to her. But the locker room talk bothers him and he regularly runs interference to keep it in check. He’s definitely not above making a few threats for his best friend. But as long as she’s happy, Jeonghan is too. 

~

Seokmin joins Mingyu and Jihoon in the courtyard in the early afternoon because none of them wanted to be in the dark and stuffy library. He sits between them at the round table and they immediately pin him with a look. “Do you want to move?” Jihoon asks, pointing across the courtyard. “We were debating on finding somewhere else to meet.”

Seokmin sees Y/N a few tables away but her back is turned to him. Seokmin has to get over this sooner rather than later and ruminating over her or whoever the guy sitting with her is won’t help much. He shares a class with her - one that he needs for his degree so he can’t drop it.

So he shrugs. “No, we can stay if you guys are okay with it. It’s nice out. New victim?” Seokmin asks, gesturing to the guy she’s with. The question comes out totally neutral because he’s feeling pretty numb about the whole thing.

Mingyu shakes his head. “No, that’s Yoon Jeonghan. She and Seungcheol have been friends with him since they were in diapers apparently. Jeonghan is basically the male version of Y/N from what I hear.” 

“A match made in hell,” Jihoon chuckles darkly. 

They all get out their laptops and textbooks to begin the proposal. Not a single one of them care much for this class, so it starts to feel like pulling teeth to get words on the shared document. For the thousandth time, Mingyu is reaching to his keyboard again, when dings and buzzes echo across the courtyard. Many people pick up their phones, including Mingyu. 

Except, while others start excitedly whispering, Mingyu sighs. “Forgot I turned that on,” he mumbles, opening something on his phone.

“You good?” Seokmin asks, glancing around the courtyard. He’s clearly missed something, and so has Jihoon, because both of their phones stay silent.

“The university gossip twitter. I had notifications on, which aren’t important anymore.” He’s pressing a few things and then he slides the phone to Seokmin and Jihoon. “That’s why.”

It’s a picture of Y/N and Jaehyun in the library, the exact sight the three of them had seen the other day, just from another angle. The caption said, ‘Choi Y/N and Jeong Jaehyun? How does the captain feel about this?’

Jihoon chuckles. “Tasteless. Not like she has any shame anyway,” he says, pointing a few tables over. Y/N and Jeonghan are giggling at something on his phone, probably the same thing they’re looking at. 

“Yeah, she’s a popular topic on there. The comments get kind of weird sometimes though. Look,” Mingyu says scrolling through them. “Everyone seems to love them together already. They always do. They liked you with her too, Seokmin.” 

Mingyu scrolls to a couple weeks ago. There’s no image, just a basic text post that says, ‘Choi Y/N spotted with Lee Seokmin. Didn’t know she was into theatre majors!!’ Under that post, so many people were gushing either about how cute they were together, or how jealous they were of Seokmin. There are even a few positive comments about Seokmin individually and he had no idea he had any admirers before reading this. Everything about it feels strange considering the way she dates around.

Seokmin huffed. “That’s a case study in conformity if I’ve ever seen it.”

He means it as a joke, but he catches Mingyu and Jihoon glancing at each other. “You… have a good point. Not that I care to get a good grade - no offense, but I just need to pass - but this basically writes itself,” Jihoon says slowly. 

“Conformity in social media. I don’t hate it,” Mingyu shrugs. “But it would have to be a case study. I don’t know how we’d manipulate what’s on here to make it an experiment.”

“No one knows who runs this account?” Seokmin asks curiously. He doesn’t really care what they write this paper about, or care to know who runs such an account, but it’s kind of intriguing when he sees the follower count. Half the student body must keep an eye on this single account and yet it’s still anonymous?

“Even if we did, what would our game plan be? I mean, we can’t hack it,” Jihoon laughs.

But Mingyu is suddenly chuckling darkly. “We can’t, but maybe someone else could.” Then he’s standing and Seokmin’s about to scold him for abandoning their assignment yet again. Mingyu waves at them to join, tossing his backpack over his shoulder. “Come on. This counts as work for the assignment, I promise.”

~

Wonwoo wakes up to a kick on his leg. He grumbles, blinking slowly and picking the book up off his face. He had been reading while laying in the grass in the quad, but the book was also a great cover to keep the sun out of his eyes for a little power nap. He blinks in the glare of the sunlight and then groans because he recognizes who kicked him, or at least the general shape. He’s seen Mingyu loom over him like this to wake him up too many times in their two years as roommates. 

“What do you want? I’m busy,” Wonwoo puts the book back over his face. 

Mingyu gets right to the point. “What would you need to know to be able to hack into a twitter account or find out who owns it?”

It’s not the weirdest question he’s ever gotten from Mingyu, so he stays under the book. “The username and free lunch for a week to start.”

“Done.” 

Odd. Usually there’s more of a fight for the terms of something like this. Wonwoo lifts the book, but there’s a phone shoved in his face. When he spots the username, he laughs. “Oh, yeah. Not sure how much luck you’re going to have with that one.”

“Why not? You can’t do it?” Mingyu asked curiously.

Wonwoo is back under the book. “I’ve never tried, but plenty of my classmates have. The power that account holds around here is legendary and a lot of people want their hands on it, but whoever runs it has incredible password hygiene and knows how to spot a phishing email. And the account uses a dead-end email address that connects back to no one in particular, so tracing it hasn’t worked for anyone so far either.” 

“So you can’t do it?” Mingyu presses. 

Wonwoo sighs, closing the book to stare up at his roommate. So much for his nap. “I didn’t say that. I’d still want free lunch for a week if I attempt it - keyword being ‘attempt’. Plus, you need to tell me why you need it. I believe in ethical hacking, remember.”

“It’s for a group project,” Mingyu says vaguely. Wonwoo now realizes it’s not just Mingyu standing around him. Two other guys are with him and they look pretty confused. 

Wonwoo sits up. “What the fuck kind of a project are you working on that you need access to an account like that?”

“Psychology.” Another vague answer. 

Wonwoo decides it’s not worth it to ask anymore questions. “I’ll see what I can do. But I have to do it at home. There are some things you shouldn’t do on university wifi, you know?”

“Great, thanks! Enjoy your nap. See you at home,” Mingyu waves, turning away. The two guys follow him, still looking terribly confused. Wonwoo isn’t going back to sleep now, so he picks up the book again and starts reading. A problem for another time.

~

“Him? Are you serious?” Seokmin asked.

“Not sure why, but I kind of expected some catty sorority girl,” Jihoon frowned.

Mingyu stared. “Wonwoo insisted he was sure.”

Late last night, Wonwoo had busted into Mingyu’s room, announcing that he’d done it. He said it wasn’t easy and it had taken a couple days, but he looked rather pleased with himself when he shoved his phone in Mingyu’s face. An Instagram account was pulled up on it. Wonwoo rambles something about IP addresses, cloud accounts, and traffic on the same network, which means very little to Mingyu who is used to mechanical and architectural engineering. When asked, Wonwoo says he’s 99.9% sure, with the remaining .1% implying that someone else could be using the same device on the same account and network. He unfortunately has no way of being totally certain that that’s not the case. Good enough for Mingyu.

“Sure enough to walk up and ask Boo Seungkwan for his twitter account?” Seokmin asks skeptically. The three of them are standing across the way from the Journalism and Communications building, watching Seungkwan scroll on his phone while he sits on a bench. 

“Is this really necessary? Do we need control of the account to do this? Like Seokmin said yesterday, the case study kind of writes itself,” Jihoon argues. 

Mingyu’s given this some thought. Or a lot, actually. “Hear me out,” he starts, because his two group members look so doubtful. “This could have a dual purpose. We could just write the case study… or we could try to gain some control over the account to start manipulating what gets posted and create an experiment. Plus… it might be a little bit of revenge.”

Seokmin nearly walks away. “Can’t we just do the music idea that Jihoon came up with? I’m not interested in revenge, I’d just like to forget those three dates and move on.”

“What kind of revenge?” Jihoon entertains, ignoring Seokmin’s argument. 

“I’m open to suggestions, but I was wondering what the response would be if the tone of the account changes. I mean, it’s never written as a bad thing if she moves on fast. I can’t imagine why it would when the account gets the kind of interaction it does. But I can’t help wondering what would happen if it was painted as a negative thing,” Mingyu explains.

Seokmin frowns. “You want to start a smear campaign?”

Mingyu looks at him with a mixture of confusion and anger. “What? You don’t think she deserves it?” 

Maybe she does, Seokmin thinks. Because here she comes, hand in hand with Jaehyun. Seokmin can’t believe that he can’t just avoid her on a campus this big. They’re chatting and smiling as they walk past the three of them. She even makes brief eye contact with Seokmin and has the gall to smile. Seokmin’s eyes are still following them when Jihoon sucks in a breath, hitting Seokmin in the chest to get his attention. 

Boo Seungkwan has his phone up now, taking a picture of them as they walk away, none the wiser. He taps a few times on his phone and then Mingyu’s phone dings. Mingyu looks pleased because Wonwoo was absolutely right, no 99.9% about it.

Seokmin huffs. “Fine. Let’s see what he says.” 

Mingyu takes the lead and Seungkwan looks at them curiously when they approach. “Boo Seungkwan?” Mingyu asks.

Seungkwan’s smile has a layer of something unsettling to it. “Kim Mingyu. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We’d like to make a deal with you,” Mingyu says and Seungkwan looks intrigued. “We want access to your twitter account for a while. Name your price.”

“What twitter account?” Seungkwan says evenly. “I don’t even have one.”

“We just watched you take that picture and post it to the university gossip account,” Jihoon insists coolly. “I’d think you’d be more careful to not get caught since it’s anonymous.”

Seungkwan eyes the three of them carefully now. Finally, he says, “Say I knew what you were talking about, which I don’t; you’d have to make me a pretty incredible offer.”

“Name it,” Mingyu says simply. 

After a few more beats of silence, Seungkwan stands. “Follow me. This conversation  needs to be more private.” 

Inside the Journalism and Communications building, Seungkwan closes the door behind them in an empty study room. “How in the fuck did you know it was me? It wasn’t because of the picture I just posted. You guys had been watching me for nearly ten minutes already,” he snaps, totally losing the cool facade from outside.

“I know a guy,” Mingyu answers lamely. Seungkwan looked less than satisfied with the answer, so Mingyu continued. “He said your password was too good to guess anytime soon, but he was able to trace it back to you with quite a bit of certainty.”

“You tried to hack me?!” Seungkwan seethes. “Why on earth would you do that?” 

“It’s for a project. We’d like to use it to take Choi Y/N down a peg.”

Seungkwan reels back and laughs at Jihoon’s explanation, all the anger from a moment ago replaced by glee. “Oh, I see now. A few bitter exes wanting to get their lick back.” He plops down in one of the chairs, looking smug. “You know, you’re not the first to ask me that, but you are the first to successfully track me down in two years. Usually they just DM the twitter account, begging for a mean post about her.”

“As they should,” Mingyu insists. “You’ve seen what she does to men over and over.”

“And that’s really none of my business outside of this account,” Seungkwan answers diplomatically. “Y/N is a sweet girl that just happens to gets a lot of attention. She’s a favorite for my followers. No other subject does as good as she does on the account. Why would I want to ruin that?”

“Because she doesn’t just date around. She treats people like they’re disposable,” Seokmin finds himself snapping. He thinks it’s ironic when he defended her the same way Seungkwan is just a couple weeks ago, but that’s when he still thought he might be different. There was nothing wrong with dating around. But there might be something wrong if you make everyone you see feel special before cutting things off out of nowhere. 

“And I’m sure she’s sorry it didn’t work out,” Seungkwan said with such certainty that it made the three men look at him like he was crazy. “But I haven’t heard an offer yet. Or what this ‘project’ is for, for that matter,” Seungkwan folds his hands on the table expectantly. 

A lot of it is off the cuff because their proposal document is still very blank besides the headers, but they all explain, eventually sitting down at the table with him. Seungkwan is quiet for a long time. Seokmin thinks he might even look conflicted or that he’s getting ready to turn them down. But they’ve promised to give him plenty of content to post and that’s what finally makes him sigh.

“I’ll pull the plug on all of this as soon as I think it’s getting out of hand. And you guys will not have access to the account, but you can have a say in what gets posted.” His expression turns sly. “In exchange for the cooperation of your hacker.” 

Mingyu frowns. He’s not sure he can talk Wonwoo into anything more since he’s all out of IOUs. “Why would you need that? What do you have in mind?”

“I can explain if you make the introductions. I take it this person has some development experience?” Mingyu shrugs in response to Seungkwan’s question, not quite ready to reveal his roommate’s identity. “I have a little project of my own that he could help me with. And I think it could be of use in your project too.”

Mingyu, Jihoon, and Seokmin glance at each other. Finally, they all nod. “I’ll make it work,” Mingyu promises, desperately hoping it wasn’t empty.

~

Wonwoo folds in half with tears in his eyes. He’s sitting in the engineering building between classes having a snack when Mingyu approaches him with another request. The two guys from yesterday are with him again, but they look less confused now. Wonwoo has since learned that their names are Seokmin and Jihoon. Wonwoo’s not terribly surprised that Boo Seungkwan is with them today too. He assumes he didn’t track him down for nothing. 

Mingyu looks annoyed. “You owe me one,” he reminds and Wonwoo calls his bluff right away. 

“I don’t. Finding him,” Wonwoo points to Seungkwan while wiping his eyes, “was your favor. We’re even now. Besides, I’m swamped. I can’t possibly pick up another project on the side.”

“It doesn’t have to be pretty. Keep it simple. I just need to have access to an admin account,” Seungkwan smoothly says. 

“You know I’ve never built anything like that, right? Existing vendors keep a tight lid on how their algorithm works for a reason,” Wonwoo argues. 

“It doesn’t have to be complex. Plus, that’s why the admin account is necessary. I want to manipulate the matches on occasion,” Seungkwan insists. 

Wonwoo blankly looks between the four men because he can’t believe they’re so serious, finally landing on his roommate. “Tell me right now why you’re asking me to build a dating app. Is this for your ‘psych’ project too?” He asks jokingly, but loses all humor when Mingyu nods. 

“We should just tell him,” Jihoon insists to Mingyu. “Surely he doesn’t like her either.”

Mingyu frowns for a moment. Eventually, he asks, “How would you like to help us take down Choi Y/N?” 

Wonwoo did not want to. Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t care much for her, but he didn’t hate her and didn’t really care to give her anymore attention. “Sounds like some project… I’ll pass - on both your psych/revenge project and the dating app.”

Mingyu scoffs down at his roommate. “Please? What do you want for it?” 

“Money, at the very least. I’ll get very little satisfaction out of whatever you guys are planning, I’m sure,” Wonwoo says. He’s hoping they’ll drop it now. They’re all broke college students after all. Money is such a precious commodity.

So he’s amazed to see all of them shrug. “Name your price,” Seokmin says easily.

Wonwoo’s eyes are narrowed skeptically now. “Pay my part of the rent this month. I’m saving for a new PC.” He wants to laugh when they agree again. Those that aren’t his roommate don’t even ask how much it is. “Now, tell me what you guys were thinking.”

~ 

In the next two weeks, Seungkwan had changed his tone on the twitter account. It was subtle at first. A few words like, ‘Already?’ Or ‘She moves on fast,’ were peppered into a post occasionally. They wanted to see how well each post performed and what kind of comments they got based on the tone and word choices used. 

However, it became apparent that it didn’t matter that she was already done with Jaehyun and the guy after him, already spotted with another guy entirely. It didn’t seem like they were even getting the typical three dates. But the interaction stats stayed about the same, as did the comments. Encouraging, begging, and overwhelmingly supportive. The group is forced to rethink their approach while Wonwoo finishes the dating app. 

“Why does everyone fall for it?” Jihoon laments, scrolling through the account. 

“She’s charming,” Seungkwan replies easily. He’s not stressed about any of this because his account is doing well and his app is on the way. That means that anytime now he can start on his own plan to set up as many horrible matches as possible. He’s going to be writing a ‘bad date’ column in the student paper and while there are surely plenty of those out there already, a few more wouldn’t hurt. “You guys fell for it too.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Seokmin said solemnly. He had already drafted up the alternative proposal for their project in preparation for all of this to fail. It didn’t feel great to talk so much about Y/N either since it was still a sore subject for him.

“I don’t know. There has to be someone impervious to her charm,” Mingyu sighed, long giving up on scrolling. 

Seungkwan laughed and it made the three of them snap their heads to him. “Just pay someone for it. It seems that you guys aren’t above that and surely someone wouldn’t mind to make a buck.”

Seokmin looks doubtful. “You think we should find a plant?”

“Sure. When I have my admin account I can even make sure they match,” Seungkwan shrugs. None of them really have to ask if Y/N will even download the app when it’s available. They know she will because she’s on all of the other dating apps.

“Who would we even draft for that sort of thing? She doesn’t go back to people after the fact, so it would have to be someone that has never dated her. That might be a short list,” Mingyu insists. 

“I’d say find someone new to the university, like a freshman, but that’s not typically her style. But a transfer could work?” Seungkwan suggests. 

Wonwoo slides into the seat next to Mingyu, interrupting them. “Some of the logic you asked for has been a pain in the ass, but you’ll be able to try it out tomorrow with some test data,” he tells Seungkwan, who immediately looks pleased. 

“Wonwoo, would you know how to find a list of incoming male students? Not necessarily freshman,” Jihoon asks.

Wonwoo looks at him blankly. “This is getting very expensive for you guys. But yes,” Wonwoo admits, resigned. “My work study is in the university’s IT office. It’s all in a database.”

“Would you mind pulling us a list?” Mingyu asks, giving his most charming smile. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, flatly saying, “Go get me lunch. I’ll see what I can do.” As Mingyu hops up, Wonwoo sighs, getting out his laptop. He’s beginning to regret whatever he’s agreed to and doesn’t wish to know anymore about what they’re using all of this for. 

But ten minutes later, he still slides his computer to them and they crowd around. He’s given them a spreadsheet with the student name, declared major, and current credit hours achieved. They’re meticulous about going through the list of approximately twenty people. They eliminate most for various reasons after looking them up and come back to one in particular. 

“Joshua Hong.  He has enough credits to be a senior. Isn’t that weird to transfer so late?” Seokmin asks. They all agree, but Wonwoo doesn’t have access to anything prior to him being enrolled here at the moment so it remains a mystery as to why Joshua’s transferred so late.

“He’s a biology major though. That could work in our favor because Y/N is too,” Seungkwan adds. “Plus, he’s attractive enough to be her type.” He shows them Joshua’s Instagram account and they have to agree. He’s handsome. 

“Worth a try…” Mingyu murmurs, before turning to Wonwoo to grin again. “Do you have access to his class schedule? And Y/N’s for that matter?”

Wonwoo stares for a long moment before sighing. “Go get me an iced americano.” He watches Seokmin jump up this time and Wonwoo really is regretting what he’s gotten himself into. 

~

Joshua feels eyes on him. He’s in the courtyard near the Science building, working on an assignment between classes, but he keeps getting this tingle up his spine that he can’t explain. He’s glanced around the courtyard but doesn’t see anyone that looks particularly interested in him. 

Until there’s a tap on his shoulder, that is. There are few guys there and he has no idea where they came from or how they snuck up on him. Joshua tries to smile politely but he’s confused. It’s not like people had been unfriendly, but being new means most people don’t approach you first. Everyone already has their cliques and it’s unlikely Joshua will be invited into the fold of any of them. It’s a completely expected hazard of transferring as a senior. “Hi? Can I help you?” He asks. His eyes widen when the three of them sit down at the table with him without an invitation. 

“Joshua, right?” One guy says, but he doesn’t really wait for an answer. “I’m Kim Mingyu.” 

Ah. That rings a bell because Joshua was wondering where he’d seen him before. Joshua had waited on him at work once before. “Uh, yeah! Nice to meet you.”

Mingyu gives a charming smile. The guy is charismatic, Joshua will give him that. “This is Jihoon and Seokmin. We were wondering if you could help us with something.” 

Joshua is starting to feel a little suspicious, but he nods slowly, “Maybe. What is it?”

No one says anything right away and his suspicion is growing. Finally, Jihoon speaks up. Joshua thinks he also recognizes him from serving him at work too, now that he thinks about it. “Have you had the pleasure of meeting Choi Y/N yet?”

Joshua’s eyes narrow because Jihoon doesn’t say it like it’s really a pleasure. “Not personally, no… we have a couple classes together, but I’ve never spoken to her.” 

“What do you think about her so far?” Mingyu prompts.

Joshua must look totally confused but they seem to actually be waiting on an answer. So he shrugs nonchalantly. “She’s pretty and seems friendly enough, but she seems like a bit of a flirt.” That earns three scoffs and his eyes widen. “I’m totally lost, guys. Why are you asking me this?”

“Just trying to get a read on if you’ll be willing to help us,” Mingyu says casually. 

“I’d prefer you not beat around the bush and just ask for the favor,” Joshua insists. He doesn’t care for their riddles or quizzes. Plus, he really wanted to finish this assignment because he works tonight.

When Seokmin speaks, Joshua’s jaw drops. Then he laughs at how absurd the pitch is. He can’t help it. “You guys can’t be serious.”

“Very serious. She’s played all of us and she’ll keep playing people until someone does something about it,” Mingyu snaps and the intensity of it surprises Joshua. Mingyu must not have taken it well when she ended things, much like Minghao said she would. 

“And you want me to, as you say, ‘reel her in and dump her’.” It’s not a question because he’s just repeating what Seokmin said a few moments ago. “Also, why me? There are a ton of guys that would be all over the opportunity to spend some time with her. I’ve seen it myself.”

“You’re new and just her type. She doesn’t go back to someone once she dumps them, so it has to be someone totally new to the scene,” Jihoon insists. 

“Uh huh,” Joshua says, totally unconvinced. “So, what? I ask her out, take her on a few dates, and then tell her I’m not interested?” 

“Yes!” The three of them cry like they’re thrilled he gets it and Joshua’s eyes go wide again. 

“You didn’t even ask if I was single,” Joshua laughs humorlessly. He thinks they must be clinically insane. 

“Your Instagram screams ‘single’,” Mingyu deadpans. Joshua doesn’t really have an answer for that because he is, in fact, very single. But he is increasingly disturbed by the thought they’ve put into this, including stalking his social media to know that. “Look, what do you want for it? We’re open to making a deal.”

Joshua can’t believe they’re so serious. Their animosity towards Y/N is overpowering and totally toxic. “There’s nothing wrong with dating around. She must not feel like she’s found the right person yet.”

“Yeah, you kind of have to give it more than a few dates to be sure of that though. She barely gets to know anyone,” Jihoon presses. 

It makes Joshua laugh again. “Have you ever considered that the guys that chase after her are walking red flags and she can see that within just a few dates?” He recognizes he could be offending all three of them, but he finds he doesn’t care much. Yes, she’s a flirt and seems a little flighty, but what they’re talking about doing in response is so… malicious. 

“I can’t believe you’re taking her side,” Mingyu looks stunned. “You should see the way she’s done this since she got here. I wouldn’t be surprised if she did it before, too. She’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing and she deserves to be exposed for it.”

“And how are you going to expose her for that? If I do anything, which I haven’t agreed to, it would be a few dates before I cut it off. That’s it. I’m not out to publicly humiliate anyone. How badly do you want to tear this poor girl apart?” Joshua asks sympathetically and he can see it burns all three of them up inside. 

“Show him,” Seokmin demands. Mingyu opens his phone, sliding it to Joshua. 

He wants to laugh because it’s an account on twitter. This feels a little too ‘Gossip Girl’ for him. But the more he scrolls, he sees that Choi Y/N is the Serena Van Der Woodson and Blair Waldorf of the account rolled into one. The post dates are alarmingly close, even occasionally overlapping, between sightings of her with a different guy nearly every time. Posts about her go back to early last semester and he stops scrolling because he’s sure there’s more beyond it. 

Joshua pushes the phone back to Mingyu with a sigh. “Look, I’m not totally unsympathetic about this. Getting dumped sucks. But this can only go wrong. It might hurt her, yes, and we can argue about whether she deserves it. But this could easily blow up in everyone’s faces. The collateral damage isn’t worth this. Just stop worrying about her or giving her attention.”

The three are silent and Joshua is relieved to see he has to go. He tells them it was nice to meet them, which feels a little like a lie, and packs up his things. Minghao would certainly laugh about Joshua’s weird afternoon later. 

~

Not for the first time, Joshua thinks that the world works in mysterious ways. He’s in his Biostats class, still reeling from the conversation in the courtyard, when the instructor announces they’ll be doing an in-class assignment with a partner today. And what do you know? He’s been randomly assigned to Y/N. 

He has to admit she’s pretty charming when she slides into the seat next to him and smiles. “Joshua, is it? Are you new? I haven’t really seen you around before.” 

Joshua nods, giving a polite smile in return. “Yes. I just transferred.” He busies himself with pulling up the dataset they would be working with today. They get to work and he can totally understand why she has men lining up. He was already aware that she was pretty, but she was incredibly intelligent and quick witted as well. He keeps a polite smile on his face but tries not to feed into it. He might think that those three insane guys were a little too intense about their plot for revenge, but he doesn’t want to be roped in. 

However, they’re such an efficient team that they finish their assignment with nearly ten minutes left of class. He kind of expects Y/N to turn and talk to one of her friends or one of the many guys that are dramatically letting their partner down with all the staring they’re doing. Or at the very least, he kind of expects her to pick up her phone that’s been buzzing on the desk the whole time with notifications. 

Instead, she smiles at him. “So, are you pre med?” 

Another polite smile. “Yes. Are you?” 

She’s grinning now. “Yeah! I’m actually going to do an internship at the hospital next semester in the ER.”

Joshua is entertained by her enthusiasm and it could certainly be totally disarming. “I’m jealous. Not of the ER, to be clear. Just the internship.”

“You should apply!” Y/N encourages. “They have openings in a few departments. I can send you the link, if you’d like.”

He recognizes this for what it is immediately. He has his laptop open still and she could just pull it up for him in a new tab. Instead, she wants some way to contact him. 

But he knows how to ignore a message or block someone, so he slides her his unlocked phone. He could actually use the link anyway. She’s practiced at this sort of exchange, because she’s handing it back in moments. “I’ll send it to you later,” she promises. 

Joshua is relieved when the instructor dismisses class. He totally gets now why she has so much power. When she sends him the link with a short message later, he just responds with a ‘Thanks,” and a thumbs up, shutting down any further conversation. 

He’s met someone like her before and he won’t be falling for it again anytime soon. 

~

Jeonghan is holding Y/N’s head to his chest at their usual table in the library, and normally that would be nice of him to support one of his oldest friends and arguably his best friend, except for the fact that it’s totally patronizing. “My poor baby, I’m sorry you’re having a bad week.” 

Y/N scoffs in his chest but doesn’t push him away. There would be no point because then he’d start pinching her cheeks and cooing in her face. “You’re the worst. You don’t have an ounce of sympathy for me.”

“I do,” Jeonghan lies through his teeth, stroking her hair. “It’s just really funny and I wish I’d been there for all of it.” 

It seems that Y/N had pissed someone off. She wasn’t sure who, but in the last three weeks she’d been pranked on no less than five occasions. The firsts two were at the sorority house, so she hadn’t realized she was the primary target yet. Someone TP’d their house one night and just when the university’s custodial staff had cleaned it up and they thought they were safe, there was a smell creeping into the house. It was subtle at first, just small whiffs of it every now and then when you walk through the house. They clean the drains, wipe down the kitchen and bathrooms thoroughly, and take out the trash more frequently. But the smell begins to permeate every room. 

Pest control comes out and finds nothing, despite crawling through the attic and the unfinished basement which includes a crawl space. The tech thinks it’s coming from the vents but finds nothing there either. So the house mother calls an HVAC tech to come take a look. He crawls around in the vents as well and doesn’t find anything… before finally finding a dead fish in the AC unit outside, roasting in the heat of late summer. The girls have to keep the windows open with fans at full blast for days to get the smell out. Inconveniently, their security cameras didn’t catch anything for either event. 

A couple days later, Y/N meets Lee Chan in front of the Science building and they walk in together. She’s tutored a lot of people in her time here, but he’s her favorite after just a few weeks, hands down. They’re idly chatting as they walk upstairs and into the TA office, which is empty with the lights off. They get unpacked and Y/N’s butt barely touches the seat when an air horn goes off. She and Chan are totally scared shitless at such a sound at 8:30 in the morning, but sure enough, there’s an air horn under her rolling chair, set to go off as soon as she sits. Chan helps her remove it along with the duct tape from the leg of the chair and they laugh about such a juvenile prank despite their hearts racing. 

A couple days later, she comes in for her office hours after lunch. She’s greeting the girl she’ll be tutoring in physics today as she pumps some hand sanitizer into her palm. When she starts to rub her hands together, something doesn’t feel right. It’s sticky in a way that the alcohol content in hand sanitizer shouldn’t be and then it’s quickly drying in chunks. She’s horrified to realized that the container has been replaced with glue. Even though she washes her hands half a dozen times in the bathroom down the hall, she still can’t touch the poor girl’s paper or textbook without it sticking to her. Her sorority sisters tell her that night that nothing like that has happened to them and Y/N realizes she must be the main target. 

The most recent thing happened just this morning. Chan had met her again outside and when they flipped the light on in the office, there was a present sitting there. It’s wrapped nicely and it even has her name on it. She’s immediately suspicious and finds out quickly she had every right to be. Chan hands her a ruler from her desk drawer and she stands at arms length to flip the lid open - only to suddenly be covered in glitter. 

It occurs to her that Jeonghan might be dusting some of that glitter out of her hair instead of nicely stroking it to soothe her and she scoffs, finally pushing him away. She’d had time to stop by the house and change clothes, but not enough to shower. She sparkles a little every time she moves. “It’s not funny, Hannie. I don’t know what I did to deserve this!” 

“I don’t know. Maybe you pissed off the wrong person. Want me to look into it?” Jeonghan offers. She knows he’s serious about looking into it despite the hard time he’s just given her. He keeps glancing around them at the library every now and then and she’s getting a lot of looks. That’s because somehow all of these events have ended up on that stupid gossip twitter. She’s not sure how that’s happened, but people seem to be enjoying her suffering. Some of the comments have turned kind of mean and she’s getting tagged in each post dozens of times with laughing/crying emojis. Jeonghan had quietly taken her phone from her hands and closed out of the app when he found her scrolling through it earlier. 

“I think you need to find a new guy to take the heat off of all of this,” he says and she can’t tell if he’s joking or not. He’s never discouraged her dating, but he’s never openly encouraged it either. He usually says good luck like any good friend would when she announces she has a date and that’s it. 

She groans, swiping a hand down her arm to dust a couple specks of glitter off. “Yeah, that’s not going well either.”

Jeonghan gives her a perplexed look. “What do you mean? Just pick someone.” She doesn’t answer him so he raises an eyebrow. “Is there someone in particular?”

Y/N can’t help the pout that falls onto her lips. “There’s a guy in a couple of my classes but he doesn’t seem interested.” 

This intrigues Jeonghan because he’s never heard of such a thing before. “Have you asked him if he is? Maybe he’s just shy.”

“I don’t think so. He’s easy to talk to, but every time I drop hints he either misses them or ignores him, but I can’t tell which. Besides, I’m used to being asked rather than doing the asking. He’s cute and smart and totally disinterested,” Y/N says, totally deflating now. 

Jeonghan snorted. “Unlikely. Give it a little bit for him to warm up. Now, help me with this stupid math homework. I definitely didn’t listen yesterday in class.”

~

Joshua is paired up with Y/N again in class. She smiles when she sits down next to him but it’s not the normal thousand-watt smile that he and everyone else usually gets. He doesn’t ask and they start with their dataset. He’s having trouble with a formula when Y/N offers to help. He lets her pull the laptop to her and he watches her fingers fly over the keyboard. Her confidence at this is impressive, but that’s not what gets his attention. 

“Doing some art projects lately?” He muses lightly. She glances down at her hands and then huffs, wiping them on her skirt. 

“No, someone sent me a glitter bomb yesterday. I don’t think I’ll ever get all of it off. I’ll be sparkling for years to come,” she answers with much less enthusiasm than usual. 

Joshua can’t help but laugh outright because it sounds so absurd. “A glitter bomb? Why in the world would someone do that?”

Y/N glances at him and he can tell she’s clearly faking her amusement, kind of like she doesn’t just know how to let herself frown. “I don’t know, but it’s one of many pranks lately.” She slides the laptop back to him but he doesn’t take it back. 

There’s this nagging feeling in his chest and he’s not sure why, so he asks, “Does this happen to you often?” 

Y/N laughs humorlessly. “No. First someone TP’d the sorority house and put a dead fish in the AC unit. Then the air horn under the chair, and the glue in the hand sanitizer bottle, and then the glitter bomb yesterday. I’m not sure what I did, but someone’s having a lot of fun. It’s all ended up on that stupid gossip twitter account too.”

“A little overboard, huh?” He says sympathetically, and he might not be her biggest fan but he means it. Someone’s got a vendetta against her, that’s for sure. 

That nagging feeling doesn’t go away as he’s walking back to his dorm after class. On a whim, he opens twitter. Y/N didn’t lie, every single event she mentioned is on there, some with photos or videos in which she looks mortified. When he opens some of the comments, he thinks it’s no wonder she seems so miserable, even if these are technically harmless pranks. Some people are really enjoying this. He gathers that Y/N is usually pretty refined and put together, not a single hair out of place. She doesn’t look very refined walking out of an office covered in glitter or holding her hands out in front of her while they’re covered in glue. 

Joshua pockets his phone and looks around campus as he strolls. He spots some familiar figures in the courtyard and that nagging feeling is back. Enough for him to stop In the grass and watch them. They’re laughing really hard about something as they’re crowded around a computer. 

Joshua takes the long way to them, creeping up behind their backs. They’re watching the video of Y/N after the glitter bomb. 

“I should have known,” he says sternly. They wheel around to him fast and Jihoon slams his laptop shut. “Having a little prank war, are you? Actually, it doesn’t really count as a war if she can’t fight back.”

“She deserves it,” Mingyu says smugly, not bothering to deny it. “Didn't you see it?”

“Sure did, as well as the aftermath.” Joshua refuses to elaborate. “I think you’ve made your point a few times over. You have your experiment results.”

Seokmin shakes his head in confusion. “Why are you defending her? You’ve seen the twitter account.”

“Yeah, which is trash from what I can see,” Joshua insists. They look so put out by the statement that Joshua frowns. “Don’t tell me you’re behind that too.” Their silence is answer enough. Besides, they’re focused on something else now. Joshua turns to see what it is. 

Y/N is walking into the student union with yet another guy. This one looks at her just as adoringly as the others. Jihoon is cursing. “Oh, come on. A freshman?” 

“You know him?” Seokmin asks.

“He’s in the same department as me, just as a dance major. He’s a nice kid. She’s going to eat him alive,” Jihoon huffed. 

The other three are ranting about it, but Joshua watches the couple closely. Whatever defense he had for her is fading fast. He remembers being the innocent freshman three years ago. He remembers getting eaten alive over and over by one girl - a pretty upper class man who could smile and bat her eyes to get whatever she wanted. He remembers having to move across the world and transfer schools to keep it from consuming him. The poor kid looks in love and he knows the look because he wore it for nearly three years while he thought things were going to get better. 

He’s also remembering the way Y/N tried to worm her way into a conversation the first time they had to work together in class. The charm was undeniable and it kind of felt like twisting the knife now that he thought about it because she was really just like Lily in so many ways. 

Joshua grits his teeth, turning back to the three guys. “Tell me your plan again?”

They all look shocked. “I thought you weren’t interested in helping us,” Mingyu starts. 

“I’ll consider it, if your plan is any good, that is,” Joshua snaps, sitting down at the table, looking at them expectantly. 

Finally, Jihoon opens his laptop again, clicking a few things. Then he flips it to Joshua. “This isn’t the version that we’ve submitted for our psych experiment. This more of an… unofficial document.”

Joshua scrolls and they let him. About thirty seconds later, he flips it back to Jihoon. “Where do we start?”

Act Two

Joshua downloads the app as soon as it hits the gossip twitter, which he now follows. He thinks it’s pretty rudimentary, but they assured him it just needed to be functional and they could pretty it up as their developer had time if it was really that important. 

Later that afternoon, he meets Boo Seungkwan, and Joshua is convinced he might be evil. Seungkwan cackles loudly when he sees that Y/N has already set up an account too. Then there’s the low maniacal giggling that he does when he gets into his admin app. Seconds later, Joshua has a match. 

Between all this evil laughter, the other three are grilling him on his dating experience. He’s vague about his answers. First, it’s none of their business, really. Second, Joshua already has an inkling that Y/N is interested and is just waiting to be asked out. He plans to make her work for it a little before he gives her much. 

The first message comes through within minutes of Seungkwan making the match and it makes Joshua laugh. The others try to crowd around his phone, but he pushes them away. They don’t need to know his methods. 

And his first method is to let the message sit there marked as read for a while. Two days in fact. At their next biostats class, they thankfully just have a lecture, but he can feel someone looking at him from across the room every now and then. 

Finally, he responds with something casual. ‘Hey Y/N, sorry I missed this message.’ It’s a classic get-out-of-trouble card and he knows it worked when she replies immediately with, ‘No big deal!’ She then proceeds to try to start a conversation and he stays ‘busy’ for the next couple weeks, only replying to her sparingly. 

During the next in-class project, Y/N slides into the seat next to him and smiles, but it looks a tad insecure compared to how it normally looks. Joshua grins at her when he greets her and she lights up like a Christmas tree. He’s pleased because it’s taken very little work to have her in the palm of his hand. 

He waits another week to make another move and it’s probably not the move that she wanted. At approximately 11:30pm, he sends her a message on the app that says, ‘You up?’ He cringes when he sends it, but the thing is, she needs to feel like a last resort, or at least one of many options. When she replies, he’s suddenly busy and doesn’t answer her back. 

He does this two more times over the next couple weeks, messaging her first and then dodging her. On the fourth time, he finally takes her up on her offer. He feels like an asshole when he shows up at the sorority house in the middle of the night on Thursday because he’s kind of winging this part. He considers showing up but acting totally disinterested in being there. Maybe he’ll even scroll through Seungkwan’s dating app in front of her, where he has other matches. 

He’s so busy thinking about his next move that he really doesn’t expect to be pushed against her bedroom door after she sneaks him in. Y/N has her body pushed flush up against his, lips attacking his own in a desperate kiss. 

Joshua decides he hates her. Hates how she’s pouted at his disinterest and stared him down in every class they share because he’s not giving in to her. Hates how he’s seen her shut down every single guy for two weeks because it seems like she’s actually into him. Hates how crushed those guys look when she politely turns them down.  Hates how if he really does give in to her, he’ll have to work faster than her.

He particularly hates how he immediately responds to her touch, rock hard in his sweats. She’s attractive and he’s not blind. And there’s something that lights his veins on fire with how desperate she seems for his attention. She’s not used to having to wait for what she wants and he has half a mind to make her wait longer. Maybe he doesn’t even have to date her. Walking away from her now, or even after he sleeps with her, would get the message across too. 

But he hates her and hates how nice she feels against him and there’s something really passionate about his hate. So he swings her around and it’s her turn to be pushed against the door. Her mouth opens and she looks like she’s holding back a moan. Joshua’s body is totally pressed against hers now and he leans down to her ear. “You know how to be quiet, right? Don’t want to wake up your roommates, do we?” 

The words are taunting but they have an immediate affect on her. Her eyes get wide, lips pouting. She kind of looks like she might cry and he’s enjoying that far too much. “Yes, I’ll be quiet.” 

And she tried really hard. He thinks it’s actually pretty cute how obedient she is. He tells her to strip and she does. He tells her to get on her knees in front of him and she does. He tells her to stick out her tongue so he can push his cock inside her mouth and she does. Somewhere deep down, he realizes he’s being unfair because she seems to really be into him, but he can’t resist the opportunity to have her at his beck and call like this.

When he has her bent over her desk, she covers her mouth to muffle the sounds that are spilling out. When he has her on her back with her legs pushed to her chest, she covers her mouth then too. She really tries, but he has to cover her mouth himself to keep her quiet when he has her face down on the bed. She comes hard and he hates her for it because it feels too good around him.

Joshua is gettting dressed when she finally speaks up. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” 

He finds himself casually agreeing because he’s already decided he’s going to enjoy this a lot more than he thought. 

~

Minghao is sitting in their dorm room, watching his roommate with a raised eyebrow. Joshua is dressed nicely and he’s just meticulously fixed his hair and applied cologne. “Going somewhere?” Minghao asks lightly. 

“I have a date,” Joshua says and Minghao quirks an eyebrow. He doesn’t sound overjoyed about this date. 

“Oh? With who?” Minghao asks. He doesn’t actually care much. Joshua seems like a good guy but he wouldn’t say their particularly close since moving in together. 

“Choi Y/N.”

Minghao nearly spits out his tea all over his computer. “Come again?”

“I have a date with Choi Y/N,” Joshua says easily. 

“Mhm,” Minghao hums. “So I did hear you right. How did that happen?”

Joshua is so casual when he says, “We have a couple classes together. She asked me out after we hooked up.”

“Uh huh,” Minghao nods slowly. “Be careful with that. She’s kind of like playing with fire from what I hear.”

When Joshua smirks at him, Minghao is kind of taken aback. Joshua is usually pretty even-tempered from what he can tell and is very friendly. There’s something a little dark about his look right now. “I can handle it. Besides, I don’t expect it to last.”

“Okay,” Minghao drags out. Joshua slips on shoes and says bye. Something doesn’t feel right about this, but it’s really none of Minghao’s business. 

~

Joshua joins the troublemakers as he’s affectionately calling them for lunch the day after his date with Y/N. They want the full rundown, even though they were creeping in a booth across the restaurant watching them the whole time. They said they wanted to get a picture for the twitter account, but they didn’t have a good answer when Joshua said not everyone had to go for that. They’re just nosy. 

A few things became apparent about Y/N quickly. The first is that her mood swings wildly depending on the type of attention she’s getting. She likes to be liked. When Joshua responds to her too casually or even coldly, she deflates. When he warms up and gives her a shred of positive attention, she re-inflates, smiling widely. Joshua thinks this is a good thing. Mixed signals may keep her on the hook for longer now that he sees how she responds. 

The second is that she is a hopeless romantic. She likes to hold hands as they walk, swinging them cutely. She beams at him when he does quite literally anything gentlemanly, like walking on the outside of the sidewalk next to the street or holding a door open for her. Joshua thinks this is also a good thing. Those things come naturally to him anyway, so if she’s ever worried about how casual or cold he appears, these little things seem to negate how she feels about that. Again, the goal is to keep her on the hook until he’s ready to let her go. 

The third thing is that she seems to have no clue that her actions have consequences. She’s still clueless about who is pulling the pranks, which have continued and Joshua has even participated in a couple, and she laments that she feels like she’s a nice person and doesn’t deserve any of it. Joshua does everything to bite his tongue and not give away how frustrated he is by her lack of awareness. She is totally oblivious to the effect her short-lived romances have on people and it solidifies the need to give her a taste of her own medicine. 

Because, not that Joshua tells the troublemakers, but there were a few moments during their date that he had to remind himself of why he was here. Those moments were usually when she grinned at him or laughed. She’s a charismatic person and, whether she realizes it or not, she uses it as a weapon constantly. Joshua has to make an active effort to not let it suck him in.

He’s the one that asks her out for the second date while they’re talking after class and he feels smug when she immediately agrees with a big smile. This date is on Saturday and he’s super sweet the whole time. He even wonders if he’s overdone it, but he realizes she’s turned kind of shy. Cute. Also, totally unexpected but will work in his favor. When they stop at the front door of the sorority house, she asks if he wants to come in. He gets a ton of satisfaction out of saying that he’s sorry but he can’t. He watches her face fall, before she’s smiling that slightly insecure smile again, wishing him good night. 

On the third date, he’s back to being mostly disinterested and he has to bite back a smile as she works overtime over dinner to warm him up. He gives her bits and pieces and they work flawlessly. Again, he declines her request to come inside when he drops her off. He’s not interested in sleeping with her again, though he did enjoy how eager she was to please. 

He considers cutting it off right there on the door step of the sorority house. The troublemakers that have dated her gave him a script and asked him to use it when he does finally cut it off. He thinks better of it and wishes her a good night. On the way back to the dorm, he decides to continue with this as long as he feels it’s going well. It’s feeding a need for vengeance as much as it’s healing an open wound of his. He wishes he could pull something like this on Lily, but he also kind of hopes to never see her again. Y/N was the next best thing.

~

Wonwoo joins Mingyu and his group members for lunch and immediately regrets it. They’ve been gossiping like hens for weeks now and normally Wonwoo would love to stay out of it. He’s learned to tune it out for the most part, but he’s kind of alarmed at the excitement they all have when a strange guy shows up. They introduce him as Joshua. 

“So how’d it go? When are you breaking it off?” Mingyu whisper-yells. They’re in the quad and they don’t want their little plot to get out. 

Joshua gives an unsettling smile. “I don’t think I will yet.” 

“So you think she’s still on the hook?” Jihoon asks excitedly. 

“Almost certain of it,” Joshua responds. 

Wonwoo watches and listens for the duration of lunch, a sick feeling settling in his stomach. Joshua describes in great detail how the last date went and they’re all thrilled. Y/N is certainly not his favorite person, but he feels like this has gone so far beyond a little taste of revenge. He understands that some of them were upset by being dumped, but they seem to want to tear Y/N limb from limb. 

He’s lost in thought when he shows up for his work study. His supervisor tells him there’s someone that needs help troubleshooting an issue on their computer, so Wonwoo shrugs and goes to the repair room. He thinks god must hate him when it’s Y/N that’s sitting there. She gives him an apologetic smile that lacks all of her usual flair. 

“I’ve tried everything. Hopefully you can help me?”

Wonwoo sits across from her, taking her laptop. “What’s the issue?” 

“It won’t power on. My power cord is fine because I tried it on one of my roommates’ computers and the outlet I was using works for a lamp.” Wonwoo is surprised at her answer, or rather how thorough it is. He’s used to the basic ‘I don’t know, it’s just broken’. 

He’s starts by trying a standalone power cord at the work desk and booting it up in safe mode. She’s right though. The screen stays dark. “Might need a new battery,” he mumbles. She sighs. Technically, he’s done everything he’s required to do. It’s not a university laptop and there are limitations to what the department will do for personal devices. But he finds himself saying, “I think I have a couple spare ones we can try though. If that doesn’t work, they can give you a loaner out front until you can get a new one.” She smiles, looking a little relieved at the news, so he tacks on,  “No promises about the battery though.”

He gets the spare battery and begins opening the back of the laptop. He would usually not chatter while he works on something like this, but he remembers how his lunch went and his stomach is still churning. “Is this keeping you from working on a lot right now?”

Y/N huffs. “Yeah, it’s really bad timing actually. Isn’t it always, though? I have a research paper due tomorrow and I hope it’s still there if we can get this back on. I also have a ton of assignments to grade for the class I TA for.” 

Wonwoo hums in sympathy, but then he frowns once he gets the back panel off of the laptop. The battery is just… gone. So are the prongs that would activate the battery. They’ve been ripped out. There’s not much he can do about that.

Y/N must be able to tell that things aren’t looking good. “What is it?”

Wonwoo grimaces, looking up at her. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but a new battery won’t fix it. Your laptop has been sabotaged.” She looks like she might cry when she sees the jagged spot where the prongs used to be. The crying isn’t a new thing here when they can’t fix something. It usually happens at midterms and finals when everyone is in crunch time. Wonwoo has had to give the bad news that someone’s laptop is shot more than once and he totally gets the reaction. 

Except he’s feeling a lot of sympathy for her because now she is crying. Sobbing even. Uncomfortably, Wonwoo reaches over the work desk and pats her shoulder a couple times. “It’ll be okay. Like I said, loaners are available until you can replace this.” He isn’t sure she even heard him at first, but then she’s wiping her eyes, makeup smearing.  He silently hands her a tissue. 

“I’m sorry. It’s been a tough semester so far. This is probably another in a series of pranks. The thing is, I can’t afford to replace it right now. It was one thing when it was glue in hand sanitizer or a glitter bomb, but I don’t have the kind of money to get a new computer.”

Wonwoo feels like he might be consumed by guilt now. He’s sat by idly all semester so far while his roommate and others have tormented her. He thinks she’s right. A little glitter (or a lot of glitter based on the video on twitter) is one thing. The custodians can vacuum and Y/N can shower and wash her clothes. But this is property damage that can’t be fixed. 

Wonwoo decides a few things at once. The first thing is that he’ll bend the rules for Y/N. The loaner laptops suck and most can’t last a single class on battery alone. Plus, they sound like a plane taking off when they’re on. But the department stashes new devices for staff and employees that can be issued by the university if they need it. He’s usually the one to keep inventory and no one with miss it. 

He gets up and comes back and places the laptop and power cord in front of Y/N. “This one’s better than the loaners. Just get it back to me when you can before it’s missed too much.” 

Y/N is still tearful when she thanks him profusely. He pats her a couple more times on the shoulder when she leaves. He also offers to dispose of the trashed laptop, but at the end of his shift he shoves it into his backpack instead. 

When he gets home, he sits down at his PC, making just a few clicks. This is the second thing he’s decided to do. The texts start to flow in quickly but he ignores them. However, he can’t ignore Mingyu when he busts into his room. 

“Did you get our texts?! The app is down.”

“I know,” Wonwoo says, not taking his eyes off of the video game in front of him. 

“What’s wrong with it? How long until it will be back up?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I took it down and I won’t be putting it back up.”

He hears Mingyu stutter. “Why would you do that? We had a deal.” 

Slowly, Wonwoo pressed pause on his game and turned to face Mingyu. He’s lived with him for over two years now and thought he knew him pretty well, but he doesn’t really recognize him anymore. “I refuse to play a role in torturing that poor girl anymore. I know I can’t do much to stop whatever else you do outside of the app, but you won’t be able to use it as a tool anymore.”

Mingyu stammers. “But we had a deal! And since when is she a ‘poor girl’? She’s a monster.”

“She’s a poor girl when you guys prank her over and over again, up to destroying her laptop. I’m doing you a favor by not reporting that, by the way. And then whatever you guys are doing with Joshua. You might not like her, but I don’t think she’d ever be as cruel as you guys are being,” Wonwoo snaps. He’s up out of his chair, dragging the broken laptop out of his bag and slamming it down on his bed. The back is still off with the battery still very much missing. 

Mingyu scoffs like he doesn’t feel guilty at all and it disgusts Wonwoo. Mingyu doesn’t try to deny anything about the laptop, barely glancing at it. “Like she can’t afford another one. All she has to do is ask her daddy for a new one.”

“Really? Because when she was crying her eyes out in my repair room earlier, she said she couldn’t afford to replace it. You guys are tricking her with Joshua and pranking her relentlessly - fine, get your revenge. But now you’re destroying property and jeopardizing her academics and work study. Where’s the fucking line, Mingyu?”

“There is no line,” Mingyu snapped heatedly. “We don’t need your help anyway. We’ve got it handled on our own.” With that, Mingyu marched out, slamming Wonwoo’s door. 

Wonwoo stared off into space before a long time before finally closing out of his game. The third thing that he decided was that he would be trying to take down that damned twitter account again. 

~

Seungcheol is concerned. 

He's always concerned for his sister, don’t get him wrong. She’s got such a soft heart that he’s always been protective of her. There’s also a little twin telepathy, so he knows something is up. He’s seen the pranks on the twitter account, and at first she’d laughed it off. She’s got a good sense of humor and can take a joke. 

He’s confused when he finds her at the gym, sitting in the bleachers with a new laptop. Well, maybe not new, but it’s different. They’d bought matching ones together a couple years ago when there was a deal and this is not the same one he has in his own bag. “New computer?”

She’s frowning behind the screen. She should really be getting ready for cheer practice in the locker room, but she doesn’t look like she’s moving anytime soon. “It’s a loaner. Someone sabotaged mine.”

“What?” Seungcheol hisses. “What do you mean someone sabotaged your laptop? Do you know who?” He should also be in the locker room now preparing for basketball practice, but he’s rooted in his spot. 

“No,” Y/N said glumly. “Probably the same person that’s done the rest of the pranks, if I had to guess.” She sighs, looking over the screen at Seungcheol. “Cheol, am I a bad person? Is that why this keeps happening?”

Seungcheol is sitting next to her immediately, hugging her. He feels her pain and he hates it. She’s usually so joyful. “No, of course not. I don’t know why you’re being targeted, everyone loves you.”

“Maybe not,” she laughs humorlessly. “I thought it was playful at first, but now I have to figure out how to replace this laptop so I can return it.” She says this into Seungcheol’s shoulder. 

Seungcheol hesitates, but finally says, “Why don’t you ask Appa? He’d send you a new one?” 

Just as he expected, she scoffs though, pulling away from him and wiping under her eyes. It looks like her makeup is long gone and it’s totally unlike her to be without it. “You know I won’t do that. I don’t want his money or anything else from him.” It has a bite to it that only comes out for this topic. Seungcheol is usually the one that is quick to anger, but he can’t hold a candle to Y/N’s anger when it comes to their father. 

“I know. You don’t have to be friendly. He likes to throw money at the problem though, and it could help here,” he says gently. 

“I don’t want a single red cent,” she huffs. A girl steps out of the women’s locker room and waves Y/N over. They must be waiting for her. She stuffs her things into her bag. “I’ll see you later. Don’t be late for practice,” she says as she starts climbing down the bleachers. 

He already is but it doesn’t matter. They won’t start without him. Most players are already out on the court, though they’re just goofing off. Seungcheol lets it slide, going into the locker room to change. He’s the only one in the aisle. He’s pulling on a shirt when he hears someone in the next aisle over. It sounds like Kim Mingyu and he must have answered his phone and naturally Seungcheol can only hear one side of the conversation.

“Hello? I can’t talk long, I’m late for practice… No,” Mingyu sighs. “Wonwoo wouldn’t turn the app back on. He’s being a prick, defending her. But it doesn’t matter.” 

Seungcheol is about to close his locker when something makes his blood run cold. He hears Mingyu say, “Joshua’s still got her on the hook. That’ll do for now until he dumps her.”

Seungcheol leans against the locker, clenching his fist. He’s pretty sure Joshua is the name of the guy that Y/N has been seeing. He debates on whipping around the corner to interrogate Kim Mingyu immediately, but he thinks better of it as his teammate hangs up and leaves. Maybe he’s misinterpreted the one sided conversation. He has no context, but he’s left unsettled. He knows Mingyu took Y/N dumping him hard. A lot of men do. But he’d never thought anyone would seek vengeance for something like that. 

While he debates on what to do during practice, he takes great enjoyment in making Kim Mingyu run laps. He always kind of hated the guy anyway. If Seungcheol’s right, this is just another reason. 

-

Y/N is elated when Seungcheol and Jeonghan invite she and Joshua for a triple date. She’s been on multiple dates with Joshua now and really likes him. When she tells her brother and best friend that, they say they’d love to meet him. 

So they’re at the movie theater on Friday night. The theater is running a showing of Night of the Living Dead and Y/N is so thrilled when Joshua smiles at her and agrees to go with them. She’s even more thrilled that he seems to enjoy the movie. He holds her hand but it’s not because she’s scared, or even because he is. The two sorority sisters, Byeol and Sora, that Seungcheol and Jeonghan are with don’t fare so well, but her brother and best friend remind her all the time that that’s the entire point. They want the girls to cling to them. 

They’re walking out of the theater when Joshua tells her he was reminded why it’s one of his favorite movies. Y/N can feel the heart eyes she’s wearing. 

Things seem to be going so well that she’s not even fazed when Seungcheol and Jeonghan start interrogating Joshua at dinner afterwards. Joshua is so poised and has an answer for everything. He’s a transfer student and is set to graduate next semester. He moved for a change of scenery. He’s pre-med like Y/N but he’s interested in internal medicine. He sheepishly says that Y/N got him in for an internship in that department in the hospital next semester. 

Y/N thinks it went so well that she’s totally stunned when Seungcheol and Jeonghan encourage her to break up with Joshua the following Monday. They don’t have any specific reasons, just that they don’t think he’s right for her. 

She’s staring at them blankly. They have to sit inside the stuffy library because it’s nearly November and it’s getting too cold. “What do you mean he’s not right for me? He seems perfect.”

“Too perfect, perhaps,” Seungcheol frowns at her, but there’s something about his eyes that give him away. He doesn’t like Joshua. 

“Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? I mean if you find the right person, shouldn’t it be easy?” Y/N insisted. 

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Jeonghan sighed and he actually looked like he was in a bit of pain at her naivety. “Look, Y/N, you know I love you right?” Y/N nods, because he might be a menace, but he’s always had her back and isn’t shy about telling her that. “You can ultimately do what you want, but something doesn’t feel right about this. I mean, can you name a single flaw of his?”

Y/N laughed. “Is being flawless a problem? You say you are all the time.”

Jeonghan doesn’t laugh though. He looks a little exasperated actually. “Yes, it’s a problem! I have a ton of flaws, starting with being in denial about having any flaws!”

Y/N frowns and finds she can’t look at them across the table. “I really like him. He’s nice, and funny, and a gentleman. What he wants for his future aligns with mine. And not that it’s important, but he’s great in bed.” Her eyes shoot up when the two men sigh. 

“Angel, when did you sleep with him? I thought we agreed to slow it down some,” Jeonghan asked, trying not to scold her. He was right, they had agreed that she’d be more careful. Jaehyun had talked a lot of game about how he would be getting with her and Jeonghan had insisted she break it off. He had said it was one thing if sex came with the admiration that most men had for her. But occasionally, some of them just wanted to hit it while they could because they viewed her as easy. Jeonghan and Seungcheol had worried for years that she’d eventually get taken advantage of because of her sweet, trusting nature. 

After the event with Jaehyun, Jeonghan had strongly suggested that she avoid sleeping with anyone that she was dating for a while. It seems that hadn’t mattered when it came to Joshua. 

“A while back, before we started dating,” Y/N finally admits. She kind of feels like a child when they both gave her admonishing looks and she can’t help but pout. “But then he agreed to go out with me when I asked!”

Another admonishing look for both of them, but increasing in intensity. Seungcheol’s eyes scream disappointment. “Honey, since when do you do the asking?”

Y/N didn’t really have a good answer for that, except for ‘never’. But they already knew that. She wasn’t even sure what had possessed her to ask that night. She was so excited that he’d come over that the words had just spilled out. She feels positively dejected now admitting all of this. 

Jeonghan doesn’t let her look like that long though. He stands up. “Come on. Let’s go get some coffee. I’ll even pay.” She follows blindly when Seungcheol asks if Jeonghan is paying for him to. She also ignores the subsequent argument. She doesn’t even order for herself when they get to the cafe on campus. Not like she has to when both of them know her order by heart. Jeonghan and Seungcheol drop the topic for now, but the insecurity she keeps feeling when it comes to Joshua is back. Maybe they’re right. Maybe she should cut it off. 

~

Joshua met the troublemakers for dinner on his night off. He didn’t think anything of it when Jihoon had insisted they all meet to catch up. He’d actually come to enjoy their company and they’d even started talking about things unrelated to Y/N. He kind of expected that this would be a casual dinner but he was wrong. He had to ask Jihoon to repeat himself a couple times. 

“You think I should be love bombing?” 

Jihoon nods insistently. “Yes. I happened to overhear her in the library earlier. Her brother and Jeonghan were trying to talk her into dumping you. And you’re right, she’s still very much on the hook, but I’m not sure how long she will be. She seemed upset by the conversation.”

Joshua isn’t totally surprised by that. It was obvious that Seungcheol and Jeonghan didn’t care much for him. Y/N had seemed none the wiser at dinner on Friday and Joshua was kind of banking on it staying that way. The thing is, it was painfully obvious how naive she was. He had moments where he started to feel bad because it was just so easy. At the same time, he thought it was funny for her to have dated like she had but still have no idea she’s being played. 

“Well, what do you suggest?” Joshua asks the table. They don’t have much to offer, but then he remembers that they all only got three dates, while Joshua is on date seven. He shrugs when there are too many beats of silence. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.”

He starts simply. He starts visiting her in her TA office between classes to see her for a bit and have a snack. He turns down an Oreo when she offers him one for the open container in her desk drawer. She takes one bite into it and spits it out almost immediately. He plays the role of good boyfriend and babies her, asking her what’s wrong. When she tells him it was filled with toothpaste he pretends to be appalled as if he didn’t buy the tube himself. Nevertheless, she folds when he says he can’t believe anyone is still targeting her with their pranks. 

He also kicks up the PDA a notch when they are together. She seems to be enjoying it, even seeking it out sometimes, albeit shyly. He has to remind himself that he hates her. 

That’s been happening a lot lately. Today is Sunday, and he’s in the kitchen of the sorority house baking with Y/N. She’s got a little powdered sugar on her cheek and he thinks she looks cute. He even wipes it off her cheek without really thinking about it. She smiles up at him with a whisk in her hand and he has to picture a snake instead, because that’s what she’s supposed to be. 

They’re sitting in her room now, eating their desserts while they talk. The troublemakers had insisted he start spending time alone with her in private. He didn’t think it was a bad idea, but he hates how cute she looks in her hot pink pajama pants. Something about how comfortable she’s getting around him is unsettling. 

One of her roommates knocks on the open bedroom door and gives her a package. Y/N doesn’t look surprised by it but she doesn’t look totally pleased either. Joshua watches as she slices the box open, revealing a new laptop. “Ooo, that’s nice,” he muses. “What happened to your other one?” He already knows the answer.

“It’s busted,” she says shortly. “I’ve been using a loaner for a few weeks.” 

“This must have set you back some,” Joshua comments lightly. He’d heard from Mingyu that her father would probably be replacing it. That suspicion is confirmed when she sighs. 

“Yeah, my pride maybe. I had to ask my dad for help on it.”

“Generous dad,” Joshua says, still trying to keep things light, but he’s sensed something dark about her mood as soon as the package arrived. It’s so uncommon that it takes him by surprise.

Y/N laughs humorlessly. “He’s good at throwing money at a problem, that’s for sure. Wish I didn’t have to take anything from him, but I wouldn’t have been able to afford it myself and I really need to return the loaner.” 

This gives Joshua pause. Mingyu had painted her as a spoiled rich girl and Joshua had blindly accepted it because she did give off that vibe. Finally, he carefully asks, “Are… you guys not close?”

Another humorless laugh. “No,” she scoffs. “Not since he busted fifteen years of marriage for his secretary that’s half his age.” Joshua frowns and she must have realized what she said, so she gives him an apologetic look. “Sorry, that was probably too much. It’s just a sore subject.”  

“Y/N… that sucks. I’m sorry.” Joshua means it. He’s been blessed with two supportive parents that love each other and are the example of a nearly perfect relationship. He finds himself asking, “Are you close to your mom?” He kind of hopes the answer is yes, even though he hates her.

This lightens Y/N right up even though she’s handling the laptop she didn’t want now. “Yeah, she’s kind of my hero. She’s done everything for Seungcheol and I since the divorce, even if it was hard on her. I wish I could visit her more, but I talk to her nearly every day.”

Joshua’s chest warms. It’s sweet to think about. Unlike all the other things that are sweet about her that he hates, he doesn’t hate this one. He finds himself genuinely smiling at her. “That’s good. I miss my parents a lot, but our timezones never really work out now so it’s just the occasional text.”

Y/N’s expression is sympathetic. “I’m sorry. It has to be hard being so far away from them.” She bites her lip. “Can I ask… why did you move if you’re so close to them?”

He doesn’t know why he even thinks about answering. It’s something he hasn’t really answered for anyone here, though they’ve asked. He should be too busy hating her and plotting against her. Joshua laughs a little, sitting on the bed next to the box. “It’s kind of stupid, actually.”

“Try me,” Y/N says kindly, moving the box and sitting next to him. Their knees touch and Joshua feels so dumb for being momentarily distracted by it. 

He feels lame when he answers. “I ended a long term relationship and there were too many memories back home. I didn’t intend to move across the world initially, but when I was accepted here I took it immediately.”

He hates her again, because she’s giving him a sweet sympathetic smile. He hates her because it seems genuine. “I’m sorry. It must have been some breakup to need to get away like that.”

“Yeah,” he laughs but it sounds a little empty. “To the tune of being cheated on for three years straight with multiple people.” He hates her again because she hisses, face still kind and sympathetic. 

“Damn. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine that.”

He bets she can’t right now, but she’ll live something like it soon. 

She’s oblivious to his internal struggles and continues. “I might not be the best at dating, but if I had something good for three years, I wouldn’t jeopardize it like that. I wish I had something that lasted.” Awkwardly, she glances up at him. She looks a little embarrassed. “I know we just started dating so I don’t want to make any assumptions about how you feel. I do like you though, Joshua.”

She’s so disarming that it’s making him a little weak. He’s been here before, but now he’s aware that he might as well be staring down the barrel of a gun again.

Lily had that affect too. She’d smile or act cute and it had him folding at the snap of a finger. He hadn’t realized all the red flags until it was far too late. 

The whole point of this experiment, if they could even call it that anymore, was to bring Y/N down and Joshua agreed because she’s just like Lily in that way. She bats her eye and smiles and gets whatever she wants. 

And yet, Joshua is weak for her just like he was for Lily. Maybe because he’s seeing things in Y/N that aren’t like Lily at all. Lily was materialistic, while Y/N has very little decor around her room, likes thrifting, and hates accepting gifts from her father. Lily thrived on the way people admired her but Joshua now recognized it was because they could be manipulated because of it. Y/N seems shockingly innocent in that regard. Oblivious maybe, but she’s not malicious. And whereas Lily would use tears and guilt tripping to get what she wanted, Y/N has just carefully admitted her feelings without putting pressure on him.

Joshua is staring at her while he thinks of all this and he doesn’t stop her when she leans in to kiss him. It’s very careful compared to the last time they kissed, way back before she’d asked him out. 

He really hates her because he folds just like he would with Lily. He holds Y/N’s face and returns the kiss without much thought. It’s Joshua who begins to escalate things this time, starting with a hand on her upper thigh. He feels the tension in his body getting tighter because he hates how his heart races and how good it feels when he tugs on her waist and she climbs into his lap, straddling him. 

He’s about to push her back on the bed when she gets up and locks her bedroom door. She told him earlier that it’s against the house rules to lock your bedroom door with a guy in here but it seems she’s willing to break them for him today. When she’s back in arms reach, he pulls her to him gently. This is so different than the first time they were together. It’s all soft touches and kisses. He’s soft when he asks if he can undress her unlike his commands the last time and when she says yes his movements are also slow and gentle. When he’s inside of her, her breath is gentle on his neck and lips as are the soft noises she makes as he slowly fucks into her. If you could call it that. It feels far too romantic to be fucking this time around. 

He finds he likes it more like this and yet he hates it. 

He’s got to get out now. This can’t go on. 

~ 

Joshua watches the troublemakers deflate when he tells them he’s going to break thing off. They were enjoying the chaos they were causing and don’t want the primary method for that to stop. Joshua knows they’re still enjoying the pranking - they have rolls and rolls of Christmas wrapping paper to prove it for their next idea and Joshua doesn’t ask because he doesn’t want to know. 

And he knows they’ve enjoyed this vindictive game that Joshua has been the pawn for. But he won’t budge on ending it ASAP. They seem to let that go until they find out he’s going to break things off quietly. 

“What was this whole thing for if it all ends quietly?” Mingyu looks so confused. 

Joshua is staying firm. He answers Mingyu through a bite of his stir fry. “Don’t you think we’ve done enough? I break it off quietly, she knows what it’s like, and we can all call it a day. Or a semester really.”

“But what about my twitter account?” Seungkwan laments. “Can I at least get some details to post about after you do it?” 

Joshua sighs. “Sure.”

Jihoon narrows his eyes. “Why are you so eager to stop everything? We haven’t even been feeding you ideas lately. That’s all been you.” Joshua doesn’t answer and he ignores Jihoon’s scoff. “Don’t tell me she got to you.” 

“No, she didn’t get to me,” Joshua said firmly. “But the job is done. She’s hooked. She’s admitted she likes me a lot and it shows because we been dating for nearly two months. Exactly how long were you guys planning to drag this out? Your assignment is pretty much done.” He knows because he’s seen it himself. They’ve gotten the results that they wanted, yet they keep saying they need ‘more data’. That data doesn’t seem to be for the assignment anymore. 

Seokmin sighs. “Look, I know she’s disarming. It’s okay if she did get to you. But you need to let us finish this how we intended. We agreed to an exposé after you break it off. Are you backing out of that?”

Joshua doesn’t answer right away. He had agreed to it. Hell, he’d been the one to suggest it. It felt like the cherry on top of this unofficial document that they had drafted. One final push to make Choi Y/N fall from grace. 

Yet he finds himself saying. “I don’t think we should do it. Let me break it off quietly, Seungkwan can post a little blurb about it, and then we call it a day.”

Mingyu’s looking at him hard now. “You slept with her again, didn’t you?”

Joshua scoffs, regretting that he mentioned the first time to them. “It doesn’t matter. If we take this much farther, this will blow up in everyone’s face.” 

“It does matter,” Jihoon insists. “We told you in the beginning that you can’t let her worm her way in.” 

“She didn’t ‘worm her way in’,” Joshua snaps. “You think I don’t know girls like Y/N? Why do you think I agreed to this?” All four of his companions look angry, but so is Joshua. He stands up with his tray. “Look, let me break up with her quietly this afternoon and then you guys can post whatever the fuck you want. But I’m done with this after today.” They don’t stop him when he walks away. After he drops off his tray, he takes out his phone and unfollows the gossip twitter account. He doesn’t care to see what they do with it next. 

~

 “Why are you so giddy? It’s irritating,” Jeonghan says from her bed. He’s come over to the sorority house under the guise of getting help with his math homework, but he has yet to crack open a book or even pull it out of his backpack for that matter. Instead, he’s totally wrinkled her covers and tossed some of her pillows on the floor in an effort to get comfortable. 

But Y/N is giddy. She’s still thinking about yesterday when Joshua was over. She’d hooked up with a fair number of people, but that had been different for her. He was so sweet and gentle and it had made her melt. 

“It’s nothing,” she says from her desk. She would normally not keep a secret from Jeonghan. She can only think of a few occasions that she’s done so as long as she’s known him. But she didn’t want his look of disappointment to ruin her high. 

But the thing about knowing someone as long as she and Jeonghan have known each other is that you can’t get away with much. Jeonghan looks sly when she turns around to face him. “Someone got fucked.” Jeonghan nearly cackles at the blush that overtakes Y/N’s face. “And fucked good at that.”

“Jeonghan! Do you have no manners?” She scolds, but she’s also biting back a giggle. 

“No,” Jeonghan says shamelessly. “Tell me, was he better than me?” 

“Jeonghan!” Y/N shouts, too shocked to laugh right away. They don’t often talk about losing their first kisses to each other at 14 and losing their virginities to each other at 16, mostly because it had never affected their friendship. But sometimes, Jeonghan likes to surprise her with a mention of it just to embarrass her. 

But it doesn’t embarrass her the way he seems to think it does. She’s not embarrassed to have slept with Jeonghan once upon a time. He was sweet and he knew her so well even back then. She couldn’t imagine it being with anyone else. That was why she was comfortable pitching the idea to him in the first place. 

Plus there was always this little, tiny, microscopic crush that she suppressed. It didn’t go anywhere even after they kissed or had sex, so she let it go. But the mention of it makes her feel warm only because it’s Jeonghan that says it. 

Jeonghan’s laughing loudly. “It’s okay, you can answer honestly.” 

Y/N huffs. “You know it’s not like that with us.”

Jeonghan’s laugh is lighter. “I know, angel.” He pauses for a moment and it seems like he decides to continue. “I’m happy it’s going well. I know we gave you a hard time about him, but if you’re happy we will be too.”

Y/N smiles warmly at him. That’s why he’s her best friend. “Thanks, Hannie. Now are you ever going to do your homework?” 

Jeonghan groans, crawling under the covers. 

~

Joshua is in his biostats class when it happens. Phones buzz across desks and the instructor looks annoyed but continues lecturing. Joshua is in the front of the class, so he can only hear reactions to the notification. People gasp and whispers break out. There’s even some laughter. The instructor tries to call things to order, but it’s no use. He calls the class to an end ten minutes early with a warning about phone usage during lectures. 

On his way out, Joshua sees Y/N frozen at her desk. She’s got her phone in her hand and she looks like she’s not breathing. She looks like she might even cry. 

Good. He doesn’t stay to watch the show. It’s satisfying enough to see the excitement bubbling around campus. It’s because the exposé has been posted. 

Despite saying they shouldn’t do it and that he wanted nothing to do with it if they did, he’d changed his mind as he left the sorority house yesterday afternoon. One of her housemates had let him in and pointed him upstairs, saying Y/N was home. He’s giving himself a pep talk all the way up the stairs and down the hall to her room. He should be kind but straight to the point. He even debates using the phrase that the troublemakers had fed him, because something about throwing it back in her face like that feels too mean now. 

Her bedroom door is cracked and he’s just about to knock when he hears a male voice inside. He’s not sure who it is so he waits for a beat. 

“Tell me, was he better than me?” 

Joshua’s frozen in place. He hears Y/N gasp and yell, “Jeonghan!” Then she’s giggling. 

Jeonghan must find it funny too. “It’s okay, you can answer honestly.” 

Y/N huffs. “You know it’s not like that with us.”

Jeonghan’s laughing again, but there’s something a little too intimate about it. “I know, angel.” 

Joshua quietly exited because he didn't need to hear anymore. He shouldn’t be surprised. He’d been warned over and over again. He also remembered how Mingyu had called Jeonghan the male version of Y/N. They really were a match made in hell, as Jihoon had said that day in the courtyard. 

Joshua had barely gotten around the corner from the sorority house before he pulled out his phone and sent a message. ‘Never mind. Do the exposé.’

They don’t need to be told twice and it’s not very kind. Joshua knows because he helped write it. Seungkwan was even hesitant to post it but it promises a major reaction. 

It seems he got over that hesitancy. Joshua feels smug as he walks back to his dorm. He might even follow the twitter account again just to see the downfall.

~

Think you know Choi Y/N? Campus it girl. Sorority girl. Cheerleader. Straight A student. Sure, I guess.

But do you know her dating history? 

Let’s start with this summer. She met Lee Jihoon at a bar and went on exactly three dates with him. 

On her birthday (at which point she hadn’t ended things with Jihoon yet), she slept with Kim Mingyu, then they went on exactly three dates. 

Then her next victim was Lee Seokmin. He also got exactly three dates… before she was spotted getting cozy with Jeong Jaehyun minutes after Seokmin received her message letting him down easy.

You’re starting to get the point, I’m sure. This is nothing new since she’s been doing this for years now. 

And now, Joshua Hong, transfer student. Except Y/N won’t know until she reads this that it was all a set up. If you’ve been wronged by Choi Y/N, then you know she deserves a taste of her own medicine and she’s got it now. 

Especially when she says she really likes Joshua Hong and dates him for two months (a record!) while sleeping with Yoon Jeonghan on the side. Anyone else have a Choi Y/N story they’d like to share?

Act Three

The drive is quiet, mostly because no one knows what to say. It’s never been this quiet for the three of them, not in 22 years. Not even when it was supposed to be. 

Seungcheol and Jeonghan aren’t talking. Two weeks ago, Seungcheol found Jeonghan on campus and just started swinging. Jeonghan ended up with a bloody nose before some of Seungcheol’s teammates nearby could drag Seungcheol off of him. Not as bad as it could have been, but it was a first. They’d never been in a fist fight before, not even as kids on the playground. They ended up in front of the Dean for it too. Thankfully, the Dean let it slide with a warning. 

Seungcheol is also not talking to Y/N, specifically because he hadn’t known she slept with Mingyu the night of their birthday party months ago. He’d thought he had a pretty close relationship with his twin sister, but he feels betrayed that he found some thing like that out on twitter of all places. 

Jeonghan and Y/N are talking, but barely. The tension is overwhelming. No matter how much they emphasize that they haven’t been sleeping together, no one seems to believe them. Without really discussing it, they decide some distance would be good. He’s insistent that he’s still her best friend for life and she’ll never be rid of him, though it doesn’t feel like it from the back seat of her and Seungcheol’s shared car. 

Y/N kind of feels like a ghost. She has for two weeks now. She barely took in anything to do with dead week or finals week. The normal stress of that time of the year doesn’t really register because she feels too numb. It’s kind of a blessing because if she can’t take much in, she doesn’t notice all the laughter and whispers that follow her around campus, at cheer practice, and in the sorority house. 

Just about the only person that gives her any sympathy is Wonwoo when she goes to return the loaner laptop before leaving for the break. He delicately asks how she’s doing and he seems like he really wants to know. His kindness doesn’t feel like something she deserves. She leaves before she cries in front of him again. 

Tonight is the dinner at her father’s house. Jeonghan is always invited and is still coming despite whatever is going on with the three of them. When they got in the car, the only thing they really said to each other is that they didn’t want to involve their parents in this mess. So they had to pretend like everything was fine, if only for one dinner. 

The mansion is cold when the three of them arrive. Their bags are still in the car because they aren’t staying here. Y/N is relieved by that small blessing. She can’t wait to be in her old bedroom in her mom’s small cozy apartment in a matter of hours. 

Nari greets them with a smile that is totally fake. She’s wearing a little black dress and heels under her apron. Y/N guesses she’s taken on the role of housewife since leaving her position as secretary at the company. It sounded like it didn’t look good for her to be married to the boss, preferential treatment and all. 

Nari sends them to the sitting room. It’s cold in there too and not a blanket in sight over the back of the couch or in a bin in the corner. Jeonghan silently takes off his wooly cardigan and hands it to her, ignoring Seungcheol’s glare. He’s been doing that anytime he sees the two of them interact. 

Nari comes out with a tray of drinks, handing them around. Y/N takes a single sip of the drink and puts it down. There’s no grenadine in hers while the boys’ drinks are a light pink because of it.  She knows it’s a calculated jab to not give her something everyone else gets but Y/N refuses to give Nari the satisfaction of a reaction. 

“Where’s Appa tonight?” Seungcheol asks politely. Everything is formal with Nari, just as it’s always been with their father too. 

Nari smiles and it’s so sickly sweet that Y/N has to look away. “He called and said he was running late at the office. Should be here anytime. Excuse me, I need to go check the roast. The chef is on vacation.” She says it snidely, like the chef doesn’t deserve a vacation, but the three of them say nothing. Once she’s out of the room, Jeonghan switches drinks with Y/N, taking the non-grenadine one. He, again, pointedly ignores Seungcheol’s glare.

Y/N is still cold at dinner where she picks at her food. Her father has barely glanced at her the whole time. He’s worried about how Seungcheol’s team is going to do this year and how Jeonghan’s applications to the internship at his company’s office near the university have gone. He promises to put in a good word for Jeonghan. 

Reluctantly, her father looks down his nose at Y/N. “And how was your semester?”

“It went well,” Y/N said, feeling a little bit like she was in a job interview. “I got straight As. The sorority and cheer team are doing well too.” She could talk about the fundraisers and volunteer events the sorority did, or how she learned a new stunt for a routine, but she knows by now he doesn’t really care. He’d always looked at her with such disinterest, even as a child.

Her father pretends to look pleased. “Good to hear. We need a Dr. Choi in the family. Can’t let those grades slip.” Y/N just nods in agreement. “By the way, did you get the replacement laptop I sent?” 

“I did. Thank you for sending it so quickly. I apologize that I didn’t send you a message when I got it, but I had a lot to catch up on, what with a broken laptop.” The words burn in her throat. She doesn’t want to thank him. She doesn’t want anything from him. She wants her mom. 

“Of course, but you should really be more careful, Y/N. Don’t be so reckless with your belongings,” he scolds. Y/N doesn’t miss how pleased Nari is with the lecture. Y/N remembers when Nari sent her to boarding school for part of semester in high school. Seungcheol hadn’t been sent away since he was supposed to be a starter on the basketball team. Their mother had to drive to the boarding school and pull her out after Y/N cried on the phone one too many times. Nari didn’t look happy when she showed up on the doorstep with her suitcase again.

“Yes sir,” Y/N answers meekly, if only to avoid anymore conversation. Seungcheol and Jeonghan both clench their jaws across the table. 

After an agonizing couple hours, Seungcheol makes the excuse that they should get going. They still have to drop Jeonghan off and get home to their mother’s apartment across town. 

In the car, neither boys say anything as Y/N cries in the backseat. This dinner was the straw that broke the camel's back. Jeonghan ignores Seungcheol’s looks in the rearview mirror because he refused to sit in the front seat, sliding into the back with her to hold her hand. 

~ 

The break flies by only because Y/N wishes it wouldn’t. She’d like to stay in her warm bed in her mom’s warm apartment for the rest of her life. She surprises herself by even considering not going back, but she knows she’d never hear the end of it. After all, she has one semester left. Then she can pick anywhere for medical school, given that she gets accepted. 

Her mother is clearly worried, and Y/N feels so guilty for it. Her mother has been a nurse for over 20 years. She works hard and she works long, weird hours. She always has in order to make it work for the twins. So Y/N tries to slap a smile on her face when she’s out of her room if only to keep her from worrying, particularly when she’s just come home from an overnight shift. 

But it seems it doesn’t matter because her mother still knocks on her door the night before they’re scheduled to drive back to school. Y/N is packing after doing some laundry and she slaps that fake smile on her face when her mother sits cross legged on her bed. “Are you sure you have to go? You could just move back in for good. Just don’t tell your brother,” her mother teases. 

This does bring a little bit of a genuine smile to Y/N’s face. “I would love to, but I’m so close to being done.” 

“I know, baby, and I’m so proud of you.” Her mother stopped and stared for a second. Finally, she sighs. “You know, I had a really bad semester at nursing school. Even had to switch schools because of it.”

Y/N isn’t sure how she knows that the semester was bad because she hadn’t said anything. But there’s no point in denying it. She’s been moping for weeks now. “Really? What happened?”

“Some mean girls,” her mother shrugs. “They’re everywhere, but they were more tolerable at the second school.”

Y/N continues folding clothes if only to keep busy. “What if I’m the mean girl?” 

“What do you mean, baby?” 

It had been weighing on Y/N’s mind. Something about the post a couple weeks before finals had made things painfully obvious to her. She hadn’t realized how it looked to others while she was chasing and looking for the right guy. She didn’t realize how many feelings she’d hurt on that chase. She eventually deleted her twitter account and locked down all of her other socials to avoid finding out how anyone else really felt about her. 

“I think I’ve hurt some feelings with my dating habits. I didn’t mean anything by it… but I did.” 

Her mother is quiet for a moment, before waving her over. There’s something so comforting about curling up into her mother’s side. “I’ll tell you what I think, okay?” Y/N nods into her shoulder. “You have so much love to give. You always have, you and Seungcheol both. And you really want to be with someone to share that. But maybe it’s okay if you keep it to yourself sometimes.” Her mother’s head plops down on top of Y/N’s. “You know, I was always afraid the divorce would affect you two. It’s why I stayed until I just couldn’t anymore. But now I see how you might be chasing after the validation you didn’t see in mine and your father’s relationship. And you don’t need it, okay? Take care of yourself first.”

Y/N is tearful and this is all too serious, so she has to crack a joke. “I think you’re spending too much time covering shifts in the psych ward. You sound like a shrink.”

Y/N’s mother laughs loudly. “Oh, I know. They’re keeping me on that rotation because I’m so good. Come on. Let’s finish packing this and then we’ll make some cookies for you to take with you tomorrow.”

~

Mingyu is pissed. He has been for days. Specifically, because a couple days before he was due to come back from break, the twitter account mysteriously disappears. So does any trace of it. No one has screenshots and the document they’d drafted of the exposé is gone too. All that’s left is anything they compiled for the final project. 

Seungkwan says he didn’t do anything with the twitter account and Mingyu believes him because his texts sound panicked. As Seungkwan is lamenting over the years he’s spent building up that account, Mingyu develops a theory. When he calls Wonwoo multiple times without receiving an answer, he considers it evidence. 

So when Mingyu arrives back at his apartment, he’s seething. Wonwoo looks totally unfazed where he lays on the couch with a book as Mingyu all but throws down his suitcase. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Wonwoo sounds bored. He doesn’t even look up from his book. 

“The twitter account, you asshole!”

“Oh, that? I hacked it and deleted it.” Wonwoo says this so casually that it almost makes Mingyu’s brain explode. 

“Why would you do that?! You know how hard we worked on that.” Mingyu thinks he might hit Wonwoo. “Months of work and now we have nothing to show for it. And years of work for Seungkwan.”

“That’s too bad,” Wonwoo says without an ounce of sympathy. 

Mingyu is fast approaching the bargaining phase. He plops down on the couch next to Wonwoo. “I thought you said you couldn’t do it anyway. What happened?”

Wonwoo gives him a blank look. “Oh, I’ve spent months on it, but I was finally able to do it over the break. It wasn’t easy, but it was very satisfying to click confirm on that little pop up.”

Mingyu stammers, at a total loss of words. Eventually, he’s pleading. “Why, Wonwoo? That was the basis of our whole project.” 

“And your project is done. I saw the document you guys turned in.” Wonwoo’s voice is turning icy. “What? It wasn’t enough for you to get a little revenge and an A+? Now you want to go back and relive it?”

“Why are you acting like this? You don’t even like her!” Mingyu cried. 

“I like her a hell of a lot more than I like any of you guys right now. I don’t even recognize you anymore, Mingyu.” It’s Wonwoo’s turn to be mad. He slams the book closed, throwing it down on the coffee table. “You tore her apart and then kept that account up to let everyone else keep tearing her apart. Do you feel better now? Does that help you get over the three dates you took her on? Are you seeing how you guys overreacted now?”

“She had it coming,” Mingyu argued but he was losing heat. Wonwoo rarely lectured him like this. 

“You destroyed her. I’ll be surprised if she even comes back,” Wonwoo snapped, standing up to pace. “I asked her if she was okay when she turned in the loaner laptop and she looked like she could cry on the spot. Whatever vengeance you got, I hope you enjoyed it because you don’t get anymore if it touches a computer or phone. I’ll hack every single device you guys have to make sure of it.”

Mingyu has deflated, totally stunned. “Why are you defending her? I don’t understand this at all.”

“I’m defending her because it seems like literally no one else is. I’m sure you know the damage that you’ve caused.” When Mingyu gives him a blank look, Wonwoo snaps again. “Let me refresh your memory. I heard she’s the laughing stock of the sorority and cheer team. She’s deleted her twitter account because there were hundreds of people tagging her in comments. And last I heard Seungcheol and Jeonghan fought.”

Mingyu had heard that. It makes news in the locker room when your captain gets into a fist fight and is sent to the Dean’s office. The coach wasn’t happy. “I can’t help that,” Mingyu insisted. “Besides, that was probably a long time coming. Joshua said Y/N had been sleeping with Jeonghan the whole time.”

“And that’s another thing! They’re both firmly denying that.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes because he can’t help it. “And you believe that? How do you know all of this anyway? Everyone’s been gone for break.”

“You know, I do believe it actually, especially since she didn’t bother denying anything else you guys wrote. And let’s just say some other accounts have been cleaned up as well.” Wonwoo picks up his book. “I’m leaving. I mean it though. You guys are done.”

Wonwoo’s disappointment is clear and leaves Mingyu feeling conflicted. But the thing is, the project’s over and the twitter account is gone. Mingyu decides it’s time to move on. 

~

Joshua can feel eyes on him, but this time he knows who it is. Minghao has been doing a lot of staring lately. Neither had anywhere to go during the break, but they saw very little of each other. It seems Minghao is upset with him, and Joshua hasn’t asked yet. 

But it’s starting to drive him crazy, because he really wants to enjoy his night off and watch some TV. When he glances at Minghao, his roommate is peering over his laptop. Joshua raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Minghao continues to stare, before finally saying, “Nothing.”

Joshua scoffs. “If you have something to say, just say it. You’ve been like this all break.”

Minghao purses his lips. “Nothing, really. I just thought you were nicer, is all.”

“Nicer? What do you mean?” Joshua prided himself on being polite, a gentleman even. 

“I mean the twitter account.” Joshua must looked surprised, because Minghao rolls his eyes. “Yes, even I have twitter. And even if I didn’t it would have been impossible to miss. I just don’t understand how you got involved in all that. Or why.”

“She deserved it,” Joshua mumbled. He didn’t really have another excuse anymore. He’d deleted the app to keep from looking at it because it was kind of like watching a car crash. 

“I beg to differ.”

Minghao’s statement makes Joshua’s jaw drop as he sits up. “What do you mean? You were the first one to tell me what she was like.”

“Yeah, I get it. Play the player and all. But you and whoever you were working with took it to the extreme,” Minghao said seriously. “I mean, there are some nasty things being written about her.” 

“So?” 

Minghao blinks a few times. “Fine, be that way. Leave me alone, though.” Joshua watched as Minghao slid headphones on and turned away. 

~

Y/N has never been what you would call a recluse. She liked to be around people, always had, but she finds she can’t when she returns to campus. She hides out in her room at the sorority house most of the time, even avoiding her housemates. Some are mean and others are pitying, but Y/N doesn’t care for either of those things, so she waits until everyone has left or is in bed before she comes out for things like food or laundry. 

She’s taken to spending a lot of time in bed. Not scrolling, not watching TV, not even reading.  She’s staring at that same spot on the wall when there’s a knock on her bedroom door. It opens and Seungcheol comes in. They haven’t really talked much outside of the necessities of traveling together so she sits up in bed, surprised. He doesn’t really acknowledge her as he puts the bags he’s carrying down onto her desk. She watches as he unpacks a couple orders of her favorite sushi. When he hands them to her with a pair of chopsticks, her eyes water a bit. 

She doesn’t dig in right away, waiting for him to get his stuff and sit next to her on the bed. He doesn’t crack open his food either. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. 

Y/N shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry. I made such a mess without even realizing it.”

“Maybe a little,” Seungcheol chuckles. “But you’re still my sister and I’m sorry that I didn’t just come talk to you about it. And I’m sorry I haven’t really helped you out any lately. I know you’ve had a hard time with all this.”

Y/N sighs, putting her food to the side. She leans into Seungcheol. “Maybe I deserved it. All the pranks. The twitter account. I didn’t even realize how bad it all looked until I read it along with everyone else.”

She feels Seungcheol shake his head. “No. They don’t understand it.” She doesn’t have to ask what he’s referring to because she knows it’s about their father and the divorce. Seungcheol had once jokingly said the whole thing had given her a complex, but maybe it wasn’t much of a joke. “And anyway, that whole thing with Joshua reeked. I wish I’d pressed you more to end it with him because it’s totally unfair that it was a set up.”

Y/N frowns. She’d tried not to think much of Joshua lately because it would do no good. She hadn’t heard from him and she didn’t expect to, so she hadn’t reached out either. “I should have known it was too good to be true.” 

“Maybe, but it’ll work out with someone someday.” Seungcheol sounds like he means that. After a beat, he asks, “So you and Jeonghan? How long has that been going on?”

“It hasn’t been. We lost our virginity to each other when we were 16. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Seungcheol sounds surprised. 

“Yeah, I promise. It rarely comes up anymore. I’m not even sure how that rumor got started recently,” Y/N sags into Seungcheol’s side. That was something that hadn’t gone back to normal yet. She was used to seeing Jeonghan all the time, maybe more than she saw her twin, but they didn’t really know how to be around each other lately. 

“Do you wish it would come up? The idea of you and him, I mean?” 

Y/N is surprised by the question, only because she remembers hearing about their fight. “Do you really want to know the answer to that question?” Seungcheol nods. Y/N bites her lip. “Sometimes. I wished it would have back then, but we were so lucky we didn’t ruin our friendship at 16. Not that it matters now, even if I did want it to come up.”

“He misses you too, don’t worry,” Seungcheol says easily. 

“Have you guys made up?” Y/N’s head pops up, relief in her eyes. 

“Yeah, I interrogated him this morning,” Seungcheol smiles and there’s a flash of something mischievous before it clears and he’s serious again. “I told him to come see you but he’s working up the courage. He wishes he could have shielded you from all of this.” Y/N frowns at Seungcheol’s explanation, but he doesn’t let her press him for anything. “And for the record, I’d be okay with it if you two did have something going on. I’d just like to know about it. Don’t keep secrets from me anymore.”

Seungcheol places her food back in her lap and with a tone of finality, he insists, “Eat. That place is expensive.”

Y/N does, feeling a little bit lighter. 

~ 

The next day, she decides that she’s not going to wait for Jeonghan to come see her. He’s been her best friend for over 20 years and this is getting fixed today. Seungcheol is out when she knocks on their apartment door. Jeonghan looks like he just woke up but his eyes widen when he sees her. “Surprise,” Y/N sings lamely, holding a bag from their favorite bakery. 

Nevertheless, Jeonghan smiles and lets her in. They sit together on the floor next to the coffee table. As kids, they didn’t care to sit at the table or even on the couch, and it was a habit they still had occasionally if only for nostalgia.

Jeonghan would normally inhale the cake that she’s just given him but he eats slowly today. Y/N picks at her own slice. “I’m sorry you got roped into all of this.” 

He looks at her for a long time and she’s beginning to worry that he’ll kick her out. But eventually he shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong in my book, so there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Others would disagree with you,” Y/N says bitterly, putting her cake down on the coffee table and pulling her knees up to her chest. Laying her chin on her knees, she looks at him. She can’t imagine not fixing this with him, but it’s up to her to apologize and it’s up to him to decide if he still wants to be friends. “I don’t even know how that rumor started. It makes you look bad too, since you’ve been dating as well. So I’m still sorry.”

Jeonghan looks so stubborn now. She knows the look well. It’s the same one he gives when someone tells him to do something he doesn’t want to do, like doing chores or homework. “No. I don’t accept your apology because it’s not needed.”

Tears prick Y/N’s eyes. “Let me apologize,” she pleads. “You should be saying ‘I told you so’ anyway. You’ve been telling me for years to be more careful.”

“You’re misunderstanding, Y/N,” Jeonghan lets out in exasperation. “I never told you to be careful because of how it looked. I know your intentions were never bad. And I never imagined anyone would do anything so… cruel in response to it.” He looks back down to his cake, picking some of the frosting off with the fork. “I only told you to be careful because I didn’t like seeing you get let down over and over again. And I’m certain there’s no one who deserves you so it happens all the time.”

Y/N stares at him while he still picks the frosting off his cake. “Do you really feel that way? Not even you?” There’s a tinge of a joke, but she really wonders.

Jeonghan chuckles, some light returning to his eyes.  “Not even me, and I’m flawless.” This earns a laugh from Y/N but then things get quiet. “Of course, I feel that way. Whoever you do end up with one day will be really lucky.”

There are so many things Y/N wants to say, but finally, she lands on, “I feel the same about you. I’ve been telling you for years that you’re total husband material.” 

Jeonghan laughs again. “And who made me learn all that? You hold your best friend to high standards,” he teases. “Now, can we go back to normal? I missed you.”

Y/N grinned. “I missed you too, Hannie. But did you really think I was leaving here without things going back to normal? You’ll never be rid of me, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.” Jeonghan shoves her by the shoulder and she loses balance, laying flat on the floor. 

“Don’t make me kick you out. Now, eat your cake or I will.”

~

Joshua walks into the hospital with a minute to spare. It’s his first day at his internship and he’s really looking forward to it. He goes to the front desk and finds out where he’s supposed to be - to which the answer is the 3rd floor. This is one of the regular units, specifically not the ER or the ICU. As soon as he steps out of the elevator, he bites back a groan. 

Somehow, he’d forgotten that Y/N would be here. And even if she was, he kind of assumed they’d never have to run into each other because they’re interns in different departments. But sure enough, Y/N is standing there with the charge nurse that Joshua was told to find. 

Both women turn to him as he approaches. “Joshua, right?” The charge nurse, Eunji, asks and when Joshua nods, she smiles. “Good! And both of you are on time too. Joshua, have you met Y/N before?”

Joshua looks at Y/N, who doesn’t so much as glance at him now. Evenly, she says, “Yes, we’ve shared some classes.” Her tone has none of the usual sparkle to it, and he’s not sure if it’s because she’s trying to be professional or if it’s because he’s here standing next to her. 

“Great! Well, unfortunately, I don’t have anything exciting for you guys,” Eunji looks apologetic. “We need to do inventory today, and the tech that would normally do it during this shift is out.” Eunji hands both of them clipboards and pens, before leading them to a supply closet. The bare overhead light is not very bright and most of the corners are still dark. “Sorry it’s so dingy in here… Anyway, it’s pretty straightforward. For each line item, do a count and write it down. Split it however you’d like and if you have any questions I’ll be around.”

With that Eunji closes the door behind her, leaving Y/N and Joshua alone. They haven’t seen each other since that Sunday in her bedroom, outside of a couple classes they shared. Joshua feels awkward when Y/N turns to one of the shelves and starts without another word. He doesn’t know why but the silence kills him for the next hour. He has to recount rolls of gauze and boxes of bandaids a few times before he thinks he got it right. 

He’s in the middle of his third count of boxes of alcohol swabs when he hears a grunt behind him. When he turns, he sees Y/N on her tiptoes, trying to reach the top shelf. Without thinking, he comes up behind her, grabbing the bin that she needs and handing it to her. She barely glances up at him when she mumbles a quick, ‘thanks’, before turning to the table in the corner to count the contents of the bin. 

Joshua doesn’t know why he’s staring. Doesn’t know why he thinks she looks cute in hot pink scrubs and a ponytail. Doesn’t know why he likes how concentrated she looks. It burns him up inside that he wants to talk to her when he couldn’t wait to be rid of her last semester. 

Impulsively, Joshua says, “Are you okay?”

She doesn’t look up from the bin. “Yeah, why do you ask?”

“It’s just, we haven’t talked since…” He trails off when he sees the tension building in her shoulders. 

She looks up at him with confusion all over her face. “Joshua, I don’t mean to sound like a smart ass, but what would there be to talk about? That tweet was pretty clear about where we stood.”

“So? You have nothing to say?” Joshua’s blood starts to boil.

“What is there to say? No one wants to hear it anyway,” Y/N says with a bit of bitterness.

“A lot of people want to hear an apology,” Joshua seethed. “You’ve fucked with a lot of people.”

“Yeah. I know how to read twitter comments, Joshua,” Y/N snapped, throwing things back into the bin haphazardly to turn to him fully. “Are you happy? I don’t even know what I did to you. Other guys, fine. I’m not great to date, I get it now. The comments made it crystal clear. But I did absolutely nothing to you.”

“Absolutely nothing? What about sleeping with your best friend while you were seeing me?” 

Y/N throws her hands over her face in exasperation. “When we were 16! Not once since then. I’m so sick of explaining this.”

Joshua freezes. “What? But I heard you guys talking about it.” He watches realization wash over her face. 

“Oh my god,” she groans into her hands again. “You’re telling me you spread a rumor like that because you eavesdropped on a snippet of a conversation that you had no context for?” Joshua’s silence must be answer enough because she barrels on. “We did what stupid teenagers do and wanted to lose our virginities to someone we trusted. And if you had waited five fucking seconds, you would have heard him say that he was happy things were going well with us.” She laughs, but it’s not right because it sounds a little watery. “I really liked you, Joshua. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this. And I don’t give a fuck about the mean girls on the cheer team or in the sorority, or the gross guys on the basketball team, or anyone else on campus for that matter. But you almost wrecked the two relationships that I’ve had for my entire life.”

“You deserve it because I’ve met girls like you,” Joshua bit. “You just have to smile and you get handed whatever you want. You play with people like toys until you get bored.”

“Well, I didn’t get what I wanted, now did I?” Now she’s crying but she looks furious. “You saw to that, did you? All I wanted was for it to finally feel right with someone, and when it did it was all a trick.”

Joshua scoffs. “Like it’ll take you long to move on.”

Y/N’s chin wobbles in the dim lighting and there’s a pang in Joshua’s chest at the sight. “Oh no. I’ll be swearing off dating from now on. No one will have anymore reasons to fuel their stupid pranks or trap dates or twitter accounts.” Joshua freezes again and Y/N is on a roll now. “You didn’t think I would figure out who was behind all of that? It’s a little too convenient that you’ve been hanging out with just about everyone mentioned in that stupid tweet. Do you guys feel like you’ve gotten your revenge now? I considered dropping out over all of this. Would that have made you guys happy to never see me again?”

Joshua stumbles over his words. He didn’t expect her to piece everything together, and he really didn’t expect that she considered not coming back to finish her degree. She was a good student and seemed so invested in her future. But it doesn’t matter what he has to say because she’s shoving the clipboard into his chest hard as she passes by him. “You finish the rest. I can’t fucking reach it anyway.” 

The door slams behind her and he looks around the supply closet for help understanding what just happened. He feels guilty now in a way he hadn’t throughout this whole experiment. He’d felt that he had no choice but to transfer after the embarrassment that was the end of his relationship with Lily, and now he’d just made someone feel the same way. But she was brave enough to come back while he ran across the world with his tail between his legs.

When he finally snaps back to attention, it takes him way more than three counts to get each line item right. 

~

Two months have passed and things are looking up for Y/N. She, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan are glued to each other again just like it’s meant to be. What few classes she has to take are going well. And she’s getting used to the way things are with other people around campus. Once she got over the initial shock and subsequent depression at the whole situation, she decided not to acknowledge it anymore. She didn’t entertain the conversation with her sorority sisters or teammates when they asked if she was seeing someone. She was getting really good at shutting out anyone that asked her out, which seemed to be just as frequent as it was before. She used to enjoy the attention, but now she just saw a bunch of red flags. 

Her escape had become her internship. After the first day, Joshua was working in another unit so she didn’t have to see him. As promised when she was offered the internship, she would be shadowing in the ER. It was mostly triaging or assisting the non-critical cases, and she didn't even get to do the fun stuff. Mostly, she would call patients back and gather their history under the supervision of an RN. Then she might escort them to a room when one became available. The exciting days were when she could assist with treatments, but it was mostly handing the doctor or nurse things and holding the patient’s hand while she talked their ear off to distract them. 

Today was a triage shift and it was almost over when the nurse from the front desk gave her a new clip board and walked away. Y/N sees the name on the sheet and smacks her forehead with the clipboard hard. Then, resigned, she goes to the lobby. 

“Lee Seokmin.” 

He hobbles into the triage station with another guy holding him up on one side. She can tell he’s surprised to see her, but she doesn’t react to it. “Have a seat,” she said, pointing. She also drags over two more chairs so he can prop up his foot and his friend can sit down. “I’m Y/N and this is Yunseo.” Yunseo waved from the other side of the computer. “Yunseo is the RN for triage today, but since I’m an intern, she’s letting me take some of your medical history. Injured foot, huh?” She says neutrally. 

“Ankle I think… Y/N, this is my friend Junhui.”

Y/N gives Junhui a polite smile, but she can tell by his reaction to her name that he knows quite a bit about what’s been going on last semester. “What happened?” She asks Seokmin. 

“We were rehearsing and I tripped,” Seokmin sighs. 

“Can I take a look? I have to make sure it isn’t critical. If it is, I need to hand it off Yunseo right now.” Seokmin doesn’t hesitate to roll up the leg of his jeans. His ankle is swollen and starting to develop a nasty bruise. Y/N hums sympathetically, and Yunseo nods encouragingly to her to continue. This is how Y/N knows she’s right to assume it’s not critical. “I’m sorry, that’s rough.” She backs away from Seokmin. “Well, unfortunately there’s not much to do until a doctor can see you besides icing your ankle and taking information for your records.” When Seokmin nods, Y/N zips out of the room.

She wants to linger at the ice machine for a breather, but today’s charge nurse is in the break room taking lunch. So, Y/N works quickly to get the bag of ice and returns to Seokmin and Junhui. Once the ice is on Seokmin’s ankle, Y/N plops down in front of the computer. It’s both a blessing and a curse that these questionnaires are so long. On one hand, there’s not a lot of time for them to talk about anything else when she’s peppering him with questions one after another. On the other hand, it feels like it takes an eternity to get through it. She tries to focus on the fact that this is good experience with Yunseo over her shoulder pointing out certain things.

Y/N feels like she’s so close to freedom after she’s rolled Seokmin in a wheelchair to an exam room while Yunseo calls the next patient to get started. “Someone will be in to see you shortly, but call if you need anything,” she says professionally. Her hand is on the knob to pull it closed behind her when Seokmin speaks up. 

“Y/N? I’m sorry.” 

She pauses and she can’t help but frown at him. He does look sorry actually, guilt all over his face. Junhui must sense where this is going, so he asks where the vending machine is and excuses himself. Y/N is still standing in the doorway, arms crossed now. “Sorry for what?”

“For the experiment. The pranks. Joshua. The twitter account.”

Y/N blinks at him because she’s not sure what else to do. “Experiment?”

“It all started as a psych experiment - conformity on social media. But it got out of control… and that sounds really stupid when I say it out loud.” Seokmin rubs the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, it does,” Y/N murmured. She looks around the pristine exam room because she can’t really look at him. She’d just started to feel better from all of this, but now she’s learning of a whole other layer to it. Her misery lately is a result of a class assignment made of questionable ethics. She’d really like to forget about all of it. “I guess I owe you an apology too. I didn’t mean anything by cutting things off, and I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted more.”

“You didn’t,” Seokmin insists and she looks at him in confusion. “I thought maybe you led me on. I was upset at how things had gone with us. That’s the whole reason I agreed to any of this in the first place. But the longer I think about it, you were pretty honest about how you felt. You shouldn’t have to apologize because I got my hopes up.”

“You’re not the only one though. That twitter account kind of makes it seem like it’s a habit of mine.”

“Yeah… that got really out of control. I’m sorry you had to see any of it. But if it makes you feel any better, it was hacked and deleted.” 

Y/N found herself laughing. “Hacked? Who did that?”

Seokmin looks amused. “Let’s just say you have a very talented friend looking out for you. He shut down that dating app because of you too.” Y/N’s eyes widen. 

“Man, you guys were serious about this revenge.” 

She watches Seokmin relax because she’s laughing again and he finally laughs too. “Yeah, like I said. Out of control. I’ve been trying to convince them to apologize. I think Mingyu, Jihoon, and Seungkwan will come around… I’m not sure about Joshua.”

“Seungkwan? Boo Seungkwan?”

Seokmin nods. “He ran the twitter account.”

“Ah,” Y/N sighs. “Well, you might be right about Joshua. He’s interning here too, and that’s going about as well as you would expect.”

“Total avoidance, huh?” When Y/N raises an eyebrow, he shakes his head. “We haven’t seen or heard much from him either.”

Junhui’s hovering outside of the door with a pack of cookies and a loud crunch gives him away. It makes Y/N laugh. “You can come back in. I’m leaving for real this time.” 

A couple hours later, she waves to Seokmin and Junhui as she leaves. It’s kind of a relief to know that someone involved feels a little bad, but she thinks he’s probably wrong. She won’t be getting an apology from any of the others. 

~

“You want me to do what?” Wonwoo asks. He thinks he’s heard the request wrong and he’s confused. 

“Bring the twitter account back,” Seungkwan requests again. 

Wonwoo sighs and nods. “Ah, that’s what I thought you said. Two questions, are you stupid and do you know what the word ‘deleted’ means?”

Seungkwan is totally unfazed by the insult. “It’s for another project. You can’t restore it?”

Wonwoo can’t help but glance around the table. The whole crew is back together and he was kind of hoping that would never happen again. It had been a disaster last semester. He finally pins Mingyu with a look. “I told you that you guys would not get a technical method to do this again.” 

“It’s not what you think. We probably should have led with that,” Mingyu puts his hands up in defense. 

“Then what is it? I deleted it for a reason. Nothing on there should have seen the light of day, especially near the end,” Wonwoo says impatiently. He wants nothing more than to be rid of these little requests because he doesn’t trust any of them as far as he can throw them. 

“We need the reach to issue an apology,” Jihoon says simply. “We can’t do that with a brand new account.”

“An apology?” Wonwoo’s laugh gets caught in his throat because he never thought he’d hear something like this considering how evil they were last semester. “This should be good. Tell me more.”

“We’ve been talking,” Seokmin started. “We got carried away and we’d like to reel this back in if we can.”

“There’s not a lot of reeling back in you can do,” Wonwoo scoffs. “The damage is done. Now you guys get to feel guilty about it.”

“Yeah, that’s why we’d like to issue an apology,” Mingyu says. “So can you restore it or not?”

“No! The warning message says ‘permanently deleted’ for a reason.” Wonwoo lies through his teeth. He’s not going to tell him he didn’t hit delete. Instead, he’d changed the email attached to the account and hit ‘deactivate’. “Besides, an in-person apology will probably go much farther. If you’re apologizing to the person I think you’re apologizing to, she doesn’t even have a twitter account anymore to see it.” 

“I don’t think she’d want to see us,” Jihoon huffed. “Which is fair, I guess.”

Seokmin shrugs. “I don’t know, she wasn’t mean to me or anything when I was in the ER last week.”

Joshua has been silent the whole time. Wonwoo’s not sure why he’s even here because he might have been the cruelest of them all and hadn’t seemed to regret any of it. Wonwoo stares him down. “Are you part of this apology too?” He watches Joshua hesitate for a moment, then nod. 

Wonwoo purses his lips. “I can’t promise anything. They might really mean ‘permanently deleted’ when they say it.” He lies through his teeth again. He needs some time to think about it before he hands the account back to any of them. He glares at Seungkwan. “But I’ll be doing some major clean up if I can actually restore it.”

Seungkwan nods eagerly. “I would have done it anyway, but have at it. You’ll probably be faster at it anyway.”

“Great. But how do we make sure she sees it?” Mingyu asks. 

Something catches Joshua’s eye and suddenly he’s jumping out of his seat. 

~

If Joshua had to describe Seungcheol and Jeonghan in one word, he would say overprotective. He got that vibe at the dinner and movie triple date he met them at. He’s definitely getting that vibe now. In fact, he thinks they might leap over the table at any of them. Maybe Joshua first though with the dirty looks he’s getting.

Joshua has to talk fast to get them to agree to even sit down with the group at the table. Jeonghan even sets a timer for five minutes passive aggressively. 

They explain everything, starting from the psych experiment, to the dating app, the pranks,, the twitter account, and Joshua. Seungcheol and Jeonghan look totally unimpressed. Joshua gets that because it all sounds so fucking stupid now that they have to explain it.

“And you think an apology will fix this?” Seungcheol asks coldly. 

“We’d like to try,” Mingyu says weakly. He’s been feeling Seungcheol’s wrath for two months now. He doesn’t want to run anymore laps or do anymore pushups. 

“It better be a damn good one then. You know she almost didn’t come back to school?” Seungcheol snapped. 

“Yeah, we heard that,” Jihoon said, glancing at Joshua. “Look, we would approach her if we thought she would hear us out. But we’ve made a mess of this to everyone else that followed that stupid account and we need to correct this with them too.”

“I thought it got deleted?” Jeonghan asks, eyes narrowed. 

“That’s why he’s here,” Mingyu says, pointing to Wonwoo. Wonwoo waves him off with a simple ‘don’t talk to me’. “He’s going to try to recover the account. The problem is that we’d also like her to see it.”

Jeonghan scoffs, a bitter smile on his face. “Yeah, good luck getting her back on there.” 

“That’s what we’d like your help with actually,” Joshua started. 

Seungcheol and Jeonghan share a look. The timer goes off on Jeonghan’s phone, but they stay anyway. 

~

It’s Saturday morning and Y/N is busy hosting a sorority house meeting. The president and vice president have been away at a conference and won’t make it back in time to run the meeting themselves, and as the treasurer the duty falls to her. Her phone has been buzzing in her pocket the whole time and she keeps ignoring it. She’s thinking it’s Jeonghan blowing up her phone because he’s bored, something he likes to do when she’s inconveniently busy. She has no problem making him wait for a bit. 

But it’s becoming apparent that something exciting is happening what with the way all of her sorority sisters will not focus on anything she’s saying. It’s starting to get frustrating and when Y/N can’t take it anymore, she bangs the gavel as a call to order. “Okay, what’s going on? I’m trying to run a meeting here.”

A young sophomore named Ara hesitantly stood up, but she was smiling when she handed over her phone. “You might want to read this, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t have to skim long before she mumbled, “Meeting adjourned. Have a good day, ladies.”

~

Did you miss us? Yes - us. 

I started this account a little over two years ago and have always enjoyed interacting with all of you. But if you’ve been a follower for a while, you may have noticed a shift in the tone of this account. You won’t find any evidence of that here now, but… if you know, you know.

That’s because this became a team project last semester. I’ll be honest. It was a revenge plot and as we look back on this plot of ours, we’re embarrassed. We all got carried away, some because of hurt feelings and some because of a desire to run a successful account with a thirst for drama.

So, here it goes. We built a dating app, the one that was posted on here a while back. It was used to make a match with someone that had the same kind of vendetta some of us had against Choi Y/N. 

While we waited for this app to be ready, we began pranking Y/N. At first, we thought it was harmless, but things escalated quickly. (Y/N, we still owe you a new laptop.)

When the dating app was ready, Joshua joined us with the goal of giving Y/N what we perceived to be a taste of her own medicine. We were cruel. Particularly near the end of the semester with our little exposé. 

We owe Choi Y/N an apology. A big one that we’ll probably never convince her that we mean honestly. For the pranks. For Joshua. For the way this account was used. For nearly ruining over 20 years of friendship between her and Yoon Jeonghan on a baseless rumor, and damaging the relationship between her and her twin brother, Choi Seungcheol. 

Y/N, if you’re reading this (and we hope you are), we’d like to start making this up to you. Reach out if you’re interested. 

Seungkwan, Mingyu, Jihoon, Seokmin, and Joshua

~Epilogue

Joshua sips his drink and looks across the table at Kim Mingyu and his date, Harin. The woman is nice but seems shy, or maybe even a bit nervous to meet any of Mingyu’s friends. Mingyu works with her at the architecture firm where they’re both junior partners on the same team. Mingyu’s told Joshua that he really likes her and Joshua can clearly see it. He’s got total heart eyes for her and everything she says or does. But the thing is, it’s their third date.

The number three is cursed in their friend group now. Three drinks is not the right number when they go out because something bad always happens - nothing tragic or anything, just a rough night of cleaning up vomit or carrying your friends home. That doesn’t happen with two or four drinks. 

If no more or no less than three of them can hang out, they don’t. Not in person, because they always seemed to find themselves in trouble - again, nothing tragic, just inconvenient things like Mingyu's car breaking down. And not even through things like FaceTime. One time, when Seokmin was traveling and wanted to chat, the power went out on the entire block leaving Jihoon and Wonwoo in the dark. Wonwoo laughed and said it must be the curse, until he realized he was being included in the curse now.

Joshua didn’t believe them at first when they kept saying they were cursed, but the kicker was how date number three was always the worst. It had become a big point of anxiety for all of them to get over that particular date if they wanted it to work out. This wasn’t just the core three that started that mess way back when. Seungkwan, Wonwoo, and Joshua had all had some bad luck too. 

So when Mingyu asked for some company on this third date that he really wanted to go well, Joshua had shrugged and said, “Find me a date.”

This has happened so many times that Joshua is not nervous for this mystery woman to show up. Besides, he’s too busy on his second drink. Clinicals have been kicking his ass and he’s stared at the ceiling every night this week wondering why he thought med school was a good idea. But he’s more than half way done, so after a little pep talk he decides to stick it out every time. 

“So where’s your date, Joshua?” Harin asks politely, trying to make conversation. 

Joshua shrugs with a laugh. “Ask Mingyu, he’s set this up.”

Mingyu is on his phone, texting someone. “She’s running late and has to come straight from work. She apologizes but we can order with out her.”

Joshua waves it off because he’s in no rush. “What did you say her name was again?”

Mingyu hadn’t said, actually, and he has a bit of a sly expression on his face when he glances up from his phone briefly. “You’ll meet her any minute. I think you’ll like her.”

“Do you set up your friends often?” Harin teases, but looks kind of confused when Mingyu and Joshua both laugh.

“Something like that. Oh, here she is!” Mingyu gestures to the restaurant entrance and Joshua turns. The woman is pretty, dressed nicely in slacks and a floral blouse. Joshua likes her already. 

He turns back to Mingyu instantaneously in amusement. “You have to stop doing this.” 

“Doing what?” Mingyu asks innocently. “Setting you up with a pretty friend of mine?”

“She’s going to yell at you again,” Joshua warns, still very amused. 

A purse slams into the seat next to Joshua. The woman scoffs, falling into it. “Kim Mingyu, I told you to stop trying to set us up.”

“Oh, come on! It would be perfect, Y/N!” Mingyu cries. 

Y/N looks irritated but Joshua can tell it’s mostly for show. They’re so close now that he knows when she’s just messing with Mingyu and the others like this. She responds this way every time they try to set Y/N and Joshua up. 

“Just say you hate me,” Joshua teases, wide grin on his face. 

Y/N’s having a hard time hiding her smile now. “I hate you, Joshua Hong.”

“Uh,” poor Harin starts, confused. “You two know each other then? I thought this was supposed to be a blind date or something.”

“Something indeed,” Y/N answers easily. “We’ve known each other for years. We’re in med school together and we’re also roommates.” Harin’s eyes flare and she gives a small confused, ‘oh’. Y/N waves it away, “It’s Mingyu being Mingyu. He likes to meddle in the love lives of others.”

Joshua laughs at the jab and how Mingyu rolls his eyes. It’s an old inside joke now, one that Harin doesn’t quite get, but they’ll leave it that way. 

During dinner, Mingyu and Harin ask about Y/N’s clinicals. They already know about Joshua’s because Y/N ran quite late today. Joshua’s not really listening because he already knows everything - the consequences of being best friends and roommates. They order anything except for three drinks and Harin is confused by their insistence. 

After their apology on that damned twitter account, it took almost two weeks before Y/N came around. The group was starting to think they were shit out of luck, but they had just decided to wipe their hands of it because they’d done everything they could do, just short of a face to face apology. They were sure she didn’t want to be approached and anything they could say would sound so lame anyway.

But the group had actually become pretty good friends over the course of their plotting, so they kept hanging out afterwards. They were all at lunch together one day when they hear a small cough behind them. Y/N looks nervous. “Do you mind if I join in?”

They really didn’t know what to expect when Wonwoo scooted over to share the bench with her. But it certainly wasn’t an, ‘I accept your apology.’

None of them really felt like they deserved it, but they started going out of their way to be friendly with Y/N. Inviting her to lunch with them, studying with her, walking with her to class. Seungkwan even let her hit the ‘delete’ button on the twitter account when Wonwoo handed it back over. 

And Joshua had made a lot of effort to go see her on the first floor of the hospital while they had their internship, even going as far as to take their breaks or walk back to campus together. And when they’d both gotten into the same med school and were looking for housing, they both kind of shrugged and picked a two bedroom apartment near the hospital. It had proved to be a good move if only because your roommate understood your weird schedules. Med school wasn’t for the weak and they’d found that out pretty quickly together.

So Y/N and Joshua had fallen into an easy routine. Go to class together, go to clinical rotations together when possible, and eat together almost every night. If they couldn’t eat together, one would make something and put it in the fridge for the other. They’d become each other’s biggest support system and every now and then he had to laugh at how they started because they meshed so well now. When they were doing each other’s laundry or bickering about ordering from the same sushi place again, he wondered why he wanted to hate her so much back then.

Because he certainly didn’t hate her. Probably never did. He actually loved her, usually in a platonic way. But every now and then there were reminders of what it was like back then. She was still pretty and funny and smart and charming after all and had the same effect she always did on men, including Joshua occasionally.

But she didn’t like dating. She flat out refused anyone that asked her out and only showed up to dinners like this because a friend like Mingyu asked her to. Joshua hadn’t seen her with anyone in nearly four years beyond these little blind dates. Some were with friends of friends, like Vernon and Soonyoung, Jihoon’s friends from college. But most of them were with Joshua when they could trick the two of them into showing up at the same place unknowingly. 

Their friends had gotten it in their head that Y/N and Joshua would be great together. And here’s the thing, Joshua didn’t hate the idea. But he knew Y/N did so he continually scolded them for how pushy they were. She always said she was too busy to date now, but he knew their little stunt years ago had left a mark. Y/N and Joshua had kind of hoped they’d forgotten about their little matchmaking venture because it had been a few months since a set up like this, but Joshua guesses they were wrong. 

Y/N and Joshua say goodbye to Mingyu and Harin and begin to walk home together. He’s pretty sure they look like a couple coming home from a first date. God only knows they get comments all the time about it, but they’ve stopped correcting people when they say something about it. Joshua still feels a bit of a rush when it happens anyway and it’s taken years for him to figure out why. 

Joshua thinks about what that would be like. In a lot of ways, nothing would change. She’s still warm to him, but sometimes he misses her touch. Sometimes when she’s had a hard day or is struggling with something, he’ll wrap his arms around her and he remembers being like this years ago, no matter how brief it was. He remembers them walking together just like this and her shyly reaching for his hand. Sometimes his fingers twitch with the desire to reach out.

But her hands stay wrapped around her stomach in the chill of the night so he doesn’t. He knows she wouldn’t want that. Which is just as well. He knows she’s a friend for life, one that he doesn’t really deserve. 

good god

Virgin Killer

❝ You can’t stand the clear line the cute nerd in your calculus class always draws between you two. However, you’re determined to show him that there’s a fine line between love and hate. And if you happen to get him to cross that line, even better. ❞

pairing: joshua hong x reader

warnings: cheerleader!reader, nerd!shua, virgin!shua, he’s kinda cold in this but is lowkey still a soft boi, drinking, teasing, jealousy, reader has a little bit of a corruption kink, loss of virginity, oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation

read part two

a/n: huge shout out to hoe nonny for being the mastermind behind this fic! minors dni!!

You’re not sure how it happened.

It’s not like Joshua Hong was nice to you. Hell, he didn’t even act civilly towards you half the time. And yet, none of that matters to you. He’s just so cute and kind (to other people) and smart that you can’t help but be attracted to him. Deep down, you’re aware that what you feel is starting to go beyond that of a crush, but your carnal desire is enough to make you disregard the potential consequences of your feelings.

Nothing matters more to you than having that cute little nerd in the way you want.

“What do you mean he’s not coming?” You frown at Jeonghan.

Your friend rolls his eyes. “I don’t know what you were expecting. You know he doesn’t like you.”

“But you promised you would convince him to go!” You stomp your foot petulantly. “You said it would be my birthday gift.”

“I’ll just get you that perfume you’ve been wanting instead.”

You try not to let it bother you, but it’s hard not to. Most people take a liking to you, and yeah, it’s not realistic to expect everyone to like you. But you can’t help the jarring disappointment that eats away at you whenever you think about how much Josh dislikes you. What bothers you the most is that he has no legitimate reason to treat you how he does. All you’ve ever been is nice to him.

It’s pathetic of you to still chase after him despite his blatant disinterest and cold attitude, but you don’t care. You’ve never wanted anything or anyone as badly as you want Joshua Hong.

The very next day, you go to the library with the intent to convince him to go to your party. You know he’ll be at his usual table in the corner of the library, studying diligently like he always does. Josh always sticks to his routine—one of the many traits you love about him. A warm feeling consumes your chest when you find him in the exact spot he’s always at.

“Josh!” You call quietly, smiling brightly when he lifts his head.

Ignoring the way he rolls his eyes, you walk over to him, feeling more determined than ever. He doesn’t look up even as you sit next to him. It’s frustrating yet endearing all at the same time.

“What are you working on?” You peer over him curiously.

“Science stuff.” He says curtly. “Things you wouldn’t know about.”

You ignore his dig and let out a gentle hum. “You’re right. Molecular biology doesn’t really interest me. Data structures are more my thing.”

When he snaps his head up at you in shock, you smirk at him. “Sorry. I guess that’s something you wouldn’t know about.”

In all the time he’s known you, he never knew your major. All he knew was that you were on a cheer scholarship. Honestly, he assumed that you were majoring in something that required no real effort. Josh quickly manages to stifle his curiosity and goes back to his research.

“You’re always studying.” You point out, not wanting to waste any more time. “It’s okay to take a break once in a while.”

Joshua presses his lips together before letting out an irritated sigh. “Unlike you, I can’t rely on looking pretty to get through college. I don’t have time for breaks.”

Your smile doesn’t falter at his words, and it amazes Josh how you never take his biting comments personally. In fact, you somehow take his slight as a compliment. “So, you think I’m pretty?”

Despite you not being the type of girl he likes, Josh can’t deny that you’re very attractive. But that doesn’t mean he wants you for himself.

His lack of response doesn't faze you, as usual. “And I seriously doubt that you don’t have time for a break. All the other biochem majors do. They’re all coming to my party this weekend. You should too.”

He ignores the fact that you’ve invited practically all of his friends. “No, thanks.”

Joshua keeps his focus on studying, and as sexy as he looks, it’s also a bit maddening. How can he not want to party with you when everyone on campus was dying for the opportunity? You weren’t vain, but you knew the affect you had on most people. Plus your parties were nothing short of legendary.

“Why don’t you want to come?” You ask him. An unconscious pout brings down the edges of your lips. “I really want you to be there.”

“We’re not friends.” He reminds you. “Why would I go to your party?”

Vaguely, you think it’s sick that you don’t feel deterred by his coldness. If anything, you only feel more determined to ensnare him and make him yours. Only yours.

“Do you not want to come because it’s my party?” You wonder as you scoot closer to him. A smirk lift your lips when he tenses at the close proximity. “Or is it because you just don’t know how to have fun?”

Josh grits his teeth, but doesn’t answer.

It makes you smirk because you can tell he’s on the verge of snapping. Maybe to the point where he’ll fuck you stupid in the library’s bathroom.

“Come on.” You whine, hooking your hand on his arm. It actually surprises you that you feel a bit of muscle through his sweater. “It’ll be fun. You don’t always have to spend your time studying. There’s more to life than just school.”

The last part of your sentence finally triggers a reaction. Josh can handle you clinging to him for no apparent reason. He can even handle your constant teasing, but to have you imply that he’s a straight up lame is—

“Fine. I’ll go.”

He belatedly realizes you’ve gaslit him into doing what you wanted only after you direct your pleased grin at him. However, it’s so pretty that he can’t really be angry.

“Promise?”

Josh actually smiles a little when you stick your pinky out at him. It’s stupid and childish. At least, that’s what he tries to tell himself as you’re looking at him with those alluring eyes of yours. He feels like he doesn’t have control of his own movements as he sticks out his hand to wrap his pinky around your smaller one.

“I promise.”

It’s crazy for Josh to be doing this. He doesn’t even like you. You’re no friend of his, and you probably will never be. There’s no real explanation as to why he agreed to come (you manipulating him doesn’t really count because you’ve annoyed him more intensely in the past), but it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s here, and he has to see it through.

When he knocks on the door, he’s greeted by a large jock whose name he can’t remember. The guy squints at him like he’s trying to figure out how Josh even knew about the party. Typical. This was just another sign that he shouldn’t have shown up.

“Sorry, bro.” The jock says, not sounding sorry at all. “This is a private party. No invite, no—”

“Gyu!” A familiar voice calls, and Josh hates that the sound of it actually makes him feel relieved. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Josh is the guest of honor!”

He’s actually impressed at how easily you shove the giant football player out of the way. Your thrilled expression makes a strange feeling settle in the pit of his stomach. As always, you look incredible. The dress you’re wearing hugs your figure just right. It makes you look like every man’s fantasy. (Not his, though.)

“You came!” You squeal happily, throwing your arms around him.

The smell of your perfume invades his senses and makes his mind feel fuzzy. Just like in the library, he feels like he has no control over his actions as he wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes you against him.

“How is he the guest of honor if this is your birthday party?” Venom drips from Mingyu’s voice.

You pull back slightly and look over your shoulder with a glare. “He’s the guest of honor because I say he is.”

Your arms are still wrapped around Josh’s neck and his are still wrapped around your waist. Neither of you make a move to let go. Admittedly, part of him doesn’t because of the way you responded to your friend. He’s not sure why it made him feel good, but it did. That feeling doesn’t go away even when you unwrap yourself from him to grab his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” Josh smirks at Mingyu as he lets you drag him inside. A deep satisfaction settles in his gut when the jock glares at him.

Josh isn’t used to the attention he’s getting while you guide him through your crowded apartment. It’s new and uncomfortable for him. He’s gone through the majority of his college years unnoticed, and that’s how he liked it.

He notices that you don’t seem fazed by all the attention. It’s not exactly a surprise. As a pretty cheerleader, you’re popular—obviously. In fact, a lot of his own friends have mentioned that they’d do just about anything to date you. He can see that it’s the same for a lot of guys because more than half of them are glaring at him with pure jealousy.

It’s not like he’s a self-deprecating person, but he can’t help but wonder why you were so adamant on pursuing him. Clearly, there’s more than plenty of guys who were eager for your attention, but all you seemed to care about was spending your time with him.

He still can’t believe it.

“What do you like to drink?” You ask once you two enter the kitchen.

“Uh,” he stammers, not ready for the loss of warmth that he feels when you let go of his hand. “Just beer is fine.”

Josh isn’t a heavy drinker, but he feels the urge to get drunk quickly. He naively thinks it’ll help dissolve the nerves that have settled in the pit of his stomach. He’s wrong. The alcohol doesn’t help, especially not when you leave his side for a moment to say greet someone of your friends. You make him promise not to leave, and he reluctantly does.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

Jeonghan is looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a sly smirk. Josh rolls his eyes and focuses on finishing the remainder of his beer. It only makes his friend’s teasing grin widen.

“I...” he lets out a defeated sigh. “Needed a break.”

Instead of teasing him, Jeonghan only hums. “Yeah? Are you sure it’s not because you finally fell for Y/N’s charms?”

“She’s not charming.” Joshua says as he goes to grab another drink.

Jeonghan raises his eyebrows at that. It’s the first time he’s heard anyone say anything of the sort. The strange part is that while Josh does sound sincere, there’s something about his demeanor that says otherwise. Interesting.

“Really? I thought she would be especially charming to you with all that science shit she talks about. Do you—?”

“What do you mean?” Josh cuts him off. “She’s into science?”

His friend looks at him like he’s crazy. “Um, yeah. She’s majoring in computer science.”

Josh feels like his head is spinning, and he knows it’s not because of the alcohol. He hardly has time to think about how he’s never bothered to know such a huge fact about you because in the next second, you’re skipping into the kitchen with a huge smile.

When Joshua isn’t looking, you give Jeonghan a look that silently urges him to get lost. As much as you love your friend, this was possibly the only chance you would have where Josh was actually willing to spend time with you. If there was ever an opportunity to get close with him (in more than one way), it was now. You weren’t going to let anything get in the way of that.

After you watch Jeonghan leave, you look back at Josh to find him already looking at you. It’s different from his usual stare, and it makes a carnal heat crawl up your torso.

“You’re a comp science major?”

Josh almost regrets asking his question when your smile falters. Belatedly, he realizes that any time you’re around him, there’s always an unwavering smile on your face. His heart starts beating irregularly. Did you really like him that much?

“You...” It feels like your throat is suddenly closing in on itself. “You didn’t know that?”

The dejected tone coloring your voice only makes things worse. In the back of Josh’s mind, he thinks it shouldn’t matter if the revelation upset you. But it does. It matters way more than it should, and he can’t stand the guilt that’s biting at his chest.

You convince yourself that the alcohol is making you more emotional than usual. The sinking feeling in your chest definitely has nothing to do with the fact that your feelings have gone beyond a stupid little crush. You’ve known all along how Josh feels about you because he never hid it, and no matter how much it stings, you have to ground yourself so too many of your emotions don’t show.

“Sorry.” He says awkwardly. “I guess we were in the middle of talking about me for the last two years.”

It’s a relief when you laugh. Not only because the sound is honeyed and possibly one of the sweetest he’s ever heard, but because you’re directing that pretty smile at him again.

As the night progresses, Josh doesn’t leave your side. He can’t believe you actually don’t leave him alone despite how many people flock around you and try to steal you away. But you insist on staying by him and listen to him talk about structural biology.

Eventually, you drag him to your room so you two can speak without being interrupted. It’s probably a mistake, but Joshua likes the feeling of your hand wrapped around his a little too much.

You two are sitting on the edge of your bed when you notice something. His hands are big, the biggest you’ve ever seen. It’s crazy how you didn’t notice before when you grabbed them, but now it was all you could think about. Suddenly, you feel like your head is swimming, and you’re not sure if it's because of the liquor you’ve drank or because of the thoughts that were starting to make you aroused.

“Your hands are really big.” You blurt, reaching over to grab the one closest to you.

Josh feels like he can’t breathe when you bring his hand closer to your face. The way you’re inspecting it like you want to eat it makes his dick twitch.

“You’re so pretty.”

Your words actually make him blush. The compliment sounds so sincere, and he can tell it is. Before he can even think to respond, you take one of his fingers into your mouth. All coherent thoughts are abruptly shoved out of his mind as your soft tongue circles around his digit. You look so fucking hot with your pretty lips wrapped around his index finger, and Josh can’t think of anything but you.

His cock is straining against his pants, but he’s too enraptured with the sight in front of him to care. Josh can only imagine how you would feel and look with his dick in your mouth. You abruptly release his finger with a loud pop, and it almost makes him whine.

You keep your eyes on his shimmering eyes as you lean toward him. “So fucking pretty.”

He doesn’t stop you when your hand smooths over his chest and slowly trails down his torso. It feels too good. For a second, he wonders if you know that he’s a virgin. Probably not since the way you’re currently looking at him would suggest otherwise. Would you be so eager if you knew the truth?

Josh’s breath hitches when your hand rubs over his erection. He mentally curses himself for being so pathetic to let just a few praises and promiscuous actions get him riled up enough to let you do this. But you just look so fucking pretty that he can’t help it.

He lets you grip and rub him until your hands move to his belt. That action snaps him out of his daze.

“Way-Wait.” Josh breathes out. “I... I’ve never—”

He can’t finish the sentence, but you know what he’s getting at. It doesn’t exactly come as a shock to you. Every time you ever brought up anything sexual he had grown visibly uncomfortable. Over the years, he’d gotten better at hiding it, but you could still see that it bothered him. That’s why you did your best to not mention anything about sex anymore.

It doesn’t surprise Josh when you abruptly pull away from him. He’s known all along what type of girl you were, and obviously you want a guy that's experienced in this sort of thing. Not someone like him.

“It’s okay.” You say softly. “If you don’t want to do this—with me—it’s okay.”

His eyes seem to sparkle even more now, and you can’t believe this unfairly attractive man has never actually done anything. Those eyes could get anyone to do pretty much anything. You knew it better than anyone because you had been dying for the chance.

Josh is too stunned to say anything. Were you really not going to laugh at him?

“We can go back to the party—”

You’re cut off when he suddenly smashes his lips on yours. The kiss is desperate and messy, but you quickly melt into it. To finally have him like this is more than you ever dreamed of, and you would take anything he gave you.

When he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes seem to shine brighter than ever. You feel a jerk in your chest, and you fleetingly have a thought that Joshua had officially ruined all other men for you. It’s crazy to think because you know that he doesn't even like you.

“I...” He swallow thickly. “I want to.”

Your breath hitches slightly. “You... You’re sure?”

All it takes is for him to let out a needy yes for your hands to move and unzip his pants. The best part? He lets you. Once you free his cock from his pants, your jaw goes slack. It’s big and thick and pretty. The prettiest dick you’ve ever seen. You lick your lips and look back up at Josh’s flushed face. The sight has your cunt clenching around nothing.

You were going to absolutely ruin him.

You’re torn between looking at his pretty dick and his even prettier face. Eventually, you decide to alternate between the two. Licking your lips, you gently wrap your hand round his thick cock and give it a gentle squeeze. His soft whimper makes you rub your thighs together. The sensitive reaction he has makes you wonder if he’s ever been touched at all.

Slowly, you stroke up the length of his dick. It’s so hot and heavy in your hand that you can only imagine how it would feel inside you. But you push that thought to the back of your mind as you use his precum as a lubricant.

“Fuck.” Josh grunts as his hips buck up gently into your hand. “I-It feels different when you do it.”

You smile at him, watching his face now as to not miss a single one of his reactions. “Yeah? Is it better?”

“So much better.” He moans, tossing his head back.

You’ve never seen a hotter sight, and it takes everything in you not to start kissing up his long neck. The way he’s responding to the attention you’re giving him is driving you crazy. But it would be even better to see him beg you for once.

Josh snaps his eyes open when the pace of your hand slows dramatically. In spite of the situation, you almost laugh when he furrows his eyebrows and pouts at you petulantly. “Please...”

Don’t stop, he wanted to say.

You seemed to understand what he wanted to say, but you only offered him a teasing smirk. Maybe it’s cruel of you to tease Josh, but hearing him beg you for once was the hottest thing ever. You stop your movements and gently squeeze his cock. It takes you by surprise when Josh buries his face in your neck with a bratty whine. Fuck. Now you can literally feel your underwear sticking to your aching cunt.

“You’ve never done this with anyone else?”

His face is hot against your neck, and you can’t deny the pleasure it gives you. “No.”

“So...” you gently run your thumb along one of the more prominent veins of his cock. “No one has ever sucked your dick before?”

He shakes his head into the crook of your neck, and you just know that he probably has the cutest look on his face. You lick your lips and let out a quiet breath because as bad as you want this, you want to make sure he’s okay with anything you do.

“Will you let me be the first?”

You bite your bottom lip when his cock throbs and he lets out a strangled breath. Josh slowly pulls away from your neck and looks at you with hooded eyes. “Fuck yeah.”

Licking your lips, you release him and sink down to your knees. His cock twitches when you start to get closer, and you can't help but smirk. To think that you’ll be the first person to taste him makes you rub your thighs together in anticipation.

You give his weeping tip a gentle kiss you sensually swirl your tongue around to lick him clean. Josh’s reaction is instant. His broken gasp sounds almost cute, and it makes you wrap your lips around him in order to fully take him in your mouth. You loosen your jaw and let your tongue drag along the thick vein on the underside of his cock.

Every whimper and groan of his spurs you on. It has you wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and stroking what doesn’t fit in your mouth. Your other hand reaches for his balls, rolling them and squeezing gently. Joshua whines before it breaks off into a high-pitched moan. Your movements make him buck his hips up into you.

“Fuh-Fuck. Y/N.”

There’s nothing that compares to Josh moaning your name. It makes you bob your head faster until you feel his cock twitch in your mouth. When he whimpers about how close he is, you moan around him. The vibration sends him over the edge. Hot, thick ropes of his cum paint your mouth, and you happily swallow it all.

You slowly release him, eyes widening slightly when you see that he’s still hard. As you go to stand, you feel yourself being pulled on to Josh’s lap. The quiet squeak you let out is stifled when he messily kissed you. All you can do is kiss him back eagerly, gently suckling and biting his lower lip.

When you pull away, you know you won’t be able to let him leave your house until you’ve had every part of him. So you push him on his back and crawl up his body until your face is hovering right over his. Gently, you grind your clothed cunt on his hot dick, relishing in the way he can’t control his moans and whimpers.

“You know, you’re so mean.” You give him a soft pout that makes his cock throb against you. “Coming to my birthday party without a present.”

Somehow, Josh manages to answer you through the arousal that’s clouding his mind. “I… I’ll get you one. A-Anything you want.”

You raise a teasing eyebrow at him. “Anything?”

Joshua moans when you start to grind into him. He quickly nods, too addicted to the way you’re making him feel.

With a gentle hum, a slow smirk stretches your lips. “Then, will you give me your virginity?”

His large hands grip your hips and press you down harder against him. Joshua looks down, frustrated that you’re still fully clothed. He recalls always wanting to have his first time with someone he truly liked and had a connection with. But now that you’re here, grinding your dripping pussy on him, he doesn’t really care about that. And it was your birthday after all.

“You really want me to fuck you?”

Hearing innocent little Josh say something so crude makes you lick your lips. “I do.”

He’s aware that this probably isn’t the best idea, but at the same time, you look so good that he can’t help but want your pussy wrapped around his cock. And so he sits up and starts to roughly tug your dress off of your body. For someone who’s never done anything sexual, Josh is pretty good at getting you naked. It makes you smirk. This whole time you knew he was an undercover pervert.

You had been right all along.

Joshua feels like he might come from the sight of your naked body alone. Fuck. No wonder every guy on campus was dying to fuck you. He feels an overwhelming sense of satisfaction to think that you only wanted him.

He lets you pull off the remainder of his clothes. Josh groans when you rub your dripping cunt on his twitching cock, coating it in your juices. He’s obsessed with the sight of your pretty pussy rubbing all over him, and he wonders if he’ll ever be able to feel the same about you after you two were done.

“I... I don’t have a—”

“I want it raw.” You moan in his ear, and Joshua lets out a groan of his own.

You yelp out in shock when one of his large hands comes down to slap your ass. He gently kneads the skin before his other roughly grips one of your cheeks. A loud moan tears from your throat when he drags you up and down his cock. He does it so well and so harshly that you wonder if he lied to you before about being a virgin.

Unable to wait any longer you finally sink down on his cock. You both moan at the feeling. Josh’s cock is so long and thick that he’s already touching your sweet spot. Almost like he was made for you. It’s a shame that you know he won’t ever be fully yours.

“Josh.” You moan. “You feel so fucking good.”

He whines at the praise and helps you lift your hips so you can slam back down on his dick. You feel so good, and when you start rolling your hips against his, he starts bucking up into you. The sound of slapping skin fills your room, and if there wasn’t a loud party going on you were sure that your guests would hear how good Josh is fucking you.

“You’re so tight.” He says through a choked moan.

Joshua loves the feeling of your hot cunt clamping down on him. He nearly comes when he glances to where you two are connected and sees your sweet cream coating his reddened cock. Something carnal takes over him and before he realizes it, he’s grabbing your hips and starts helping you bounce on his cock.

You let out loud whine when he gives you a particularly sharp thrust and slams his tip against your sweet spot. Josh is quick to notices and repeats his actions. The way his thick cock is bullying into you and hitting the spongy spot inside you is making your arousal drip down his balls. Your moans can’t be contained, and you barely sound cohesive as you chant out his name.

Josh’s large hands are all over you. They glide up to cup your tits and roughly knead them before they slide down to squeeze your ass. His hips are bucking into you desperately, trying to fuck his cock deeper inside you.

The lewd squelching coming from your sopping cunt filling the room only makes you get tighter around his dick to the point where he starts throbbing wildly. It feels like your head is spinning because he’s splitting you open so deliciously and hitting that spot inside you every time.

“Are you gonna come?” You wonder as you start to gyrate your hips in a circle. “You look so pretty when you come.”

“Fuh-Fuck.” Josh groans. He does want to fill you up. He’s never wanted anything more. “I’m so close. Gonna stuff you full of my cum.”

His words push you over the edge and has you clamping down on him as you come with a loud yell of his name. It triggers Josh’s own orgasm and as you’re riding out your high, you suddenly feel his hot seed spilling into your cunt. He shoots rope after rope into you, angling his hips up to fuck it deeper into your pussy.

Coming has never felt so good. Releasing into his fist is fine, but it doesn’t compare to coming inside your sweet cunt. The way you’re sporadically squeezing him is something Josh is sure he’ll never be able to forget. You’ve probably ruined the pleasure of masturbating because it won’t ever compare to the way you’ve made him feel.

It’s worse because he keeps fucking up into you as his hands grip your ass to guide you up and down his cock until you’re both whimpering from the oversensitivity. Josh isn’t entirely sure how he’s meant to forget about this, or you. He can’t act like this didn’t happen.

You press a gentle kiss to each of Josh’s cheeks as your breathing slowly goes back to normal. His shining eyes have a look that you can’t place, but it makes you grin. “I loved my present.” You murmur. “Thank you for choosing me.”

His heart swells, and he can’t hate it. Because you’re gently caressing his hair like you don’t want to separate from him. It’s weird because he doesn’t want you to.

“Let’s go back.” You say without making an attempt to move. “Soonyoung didn’t believe me when I told him you were here.”

He ignores that you’re close with his friend and nods. Vaguely, Joshua thinks that while he didn’t have his first time with someone he loved, he still doesn’t regret it. Because he did it with you.

Josh is pretty sure he’s loosing his mind.

Lately, all he’s been thinking about you. The worst part is that he no longer seemed to be a priority for you. It’s crazy to think about because, yeah, he had told you on multiple occasions to leave him alone. And yes, he had also told all your mutual friends to pass along the message. But how could you finally respect his wishes after he gave you his virginity?

It’s maddening because in all the time you had class together, Josh never paid you any attention. Now he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. As embarrassing as it is, he can’t physically stop staring at you. He might look like a creep, but the thing is you don’t actually notice. You’re so into paying attention and taking notes that it seems like you’re in your own world.

Finally, you come to him on a random afternoon while he’s at the library. He hates that you skipping over to him actually brings a smile to his face.

“Hey, Josh.” You say as you bend down to wrap your arms around his neck.

It doesn’t help that you’re wearing the same perfume from the night of your birthday party. That smell makes his cock twitch in his pants, and he can’t believe that even the very smell of you has him getting excited like a teenage boy.

“I haven’t seen you around lately.” Josh tries to be casual as you slip into the chair beside him.

Your frown piques his interest. “Mingyu has been taking up a lot of my time of my time. That idiot lives to make my life a living hell.”

He tries not to feel bitter about the reason you’ve been ignoring him. What does he care if you’re spending time with some dumb jock? It’s not like he cares that you deserve someone who was capable of matching your intelligence who you also happen to have great physical chemistry with. He definitely doesn’t care at all.

Josh’s bitter frown has you tilting your head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He lies as he returns his attention back to his laptop. “I’m glad you’re having fun with Mingi. You two fit perfectly.”

Anyone might’ve taken offense to the way he purposely disregards your friend’s name and his scathing tone, but it only makes you smirk. You resist the urge to coo and lean closer to him. “Are you jealous, Joshy?”

He doesn’t react, not conspicuously, anyway. The subtle clench of his jaw is enough to rile you up, though. This new development was something that made all the chasing you did worth it.

“There’s no reason for me to be.”

You hum. “So, I guess you won’t care if I call Mingyu so he can fuck me until I can’t walk?”

It’s almost funny the way Joshua stands up and starts to gather his things. But it’s ultimately not because he’s suddenly tugging you out of your seat and dragging you with him. You question him all the way back to his apartment. Josh doesn’t say anything even as he lets you inside. Just as you start to look around, you’re suddenly being pulled in another direction.

You’re barely able to register that it’s Josh’s room before he’s shoving you on his bed. It would’ve pissed you off, but when you look back to see him taking off his clothes, you can’t help but feel excited.

“Josh—”

“You think you’re so fucking funny, huh?” He growls once he’s down to his underwear. “Teasing me like you have.”

Josh’s voice has taken on such a deep tone that you could hardly believe it was him who talked. You lick your lips as he crawls on the bed. He roughly pulls off your skirt and tosses it behind his shoulder. It makes your pussy clench around nothing. When you were teasing him earlier, you didn’t expect to bring out such a side of him.

You lick lips in anticipation.

Last time, Josh didn’t get to fully admire you and look at you, but now he has you spread out for him like this, he’s going to fully savor it. He doesn’t hesitate to rip your panties off, groaning at the sight of your glistening pussy. “Do you get this wet for everyone, or is this all for me?”

You would’ve felt embarrassed if you didn’t want him so bad. If Mingyu hadn’t accidentally deleted your presentation materials, you would’ve fucked Josh again sooner. But none of that mattered anymore because you were here now, and he was acting hotter than he ever had.

“Don’t play with me.” You groan. “You know your dick is the only one I want.”

Josh’s cock throbs at your words, and he rewards you by pressing a gentle kiss to your cunt. He licks a long stripe up your slit, stopping to flick your clit repeatedly until you’re crying out for him. The sounds you’re making have him grinding his hard cock into the mattress to try and ease the throbbing in his boxers. He latches his mouth on to the sensitive bud and sucks, hard.

“Josh!” You moan, grinding your cunt into his face.

He smirks against you before releasing it with a pop. Your cute whimpers are something he can listen to forever, and he intends to hear that as often as he can. Joshua takes his time eating you out, indulging himself with your sweet taste. His movements are messy and uncoordinated, but so good.

Before you can reach your high, Josh abruptly pulls away from your aching cunt. He actually smirks when you whine at the loss of stimulation, and you wonder what sort of monster you’ve brought out. But because it’s him, it turns you on.

“Want my cock, baby?”

The pet name actually has you nodded eagerly and clenching around nothing. But because Josh is so fucking mean he only runs his hands over your body and slowly undresses you like if time is frozen. It’s frustrating, but when you go to help him, he harshly slaps your cunt to stop you. It only makes more slick drip out of you.

Josh thinks he might come in his boxers when he leans back and sees your arousal dripping out of you and on to his mattress. He licks his lips, loving how fucked out you already look.

You bite your lip when he finally takes off his underwear and lets you see that pretty cock of his. The way your hungrily eyeing him has Josh gripping your thighs and roughly pulling you toward him. He gently grinds himself between your folds, relishing in the way you buck your hips up into him desperately.

“Look at you, so fucking desperate for me to split you open.”

The way you pout of him makes him feel like he might actually go insane. Josh can’t keep waiting and shoves his dick into you with one hard thrust. You both moan at the feeling, and you can’t believe that you had let anything get in the way of having him fuck you again.

You notice his somewhat hesitant with his thrusts, and you slowly slide your hands down to his hips to guide them. Joshua pauses for a moment before he starts rolling his hips in that same angle that you seem to like. He focuses on your bouncing tits and the mewls and whimpers that are falling from your lips. His tip is hitting against your sweet spot repeatedly until you’re tossing your head back in pleasure.

“You like it when I fuck you there, huh, baby?” Josh says with a teasing smirk. “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

His voice is sickly-sweet, and it doesn’t match the way he’s sharply slamming his cock into you.

“Fuh-Fuck!” You moan. “Don’t stop!”

Your sweet cunt is clamping down on him so tightly that he’s starting to feel some resistance. It only makes him drill into you deeper, determined to have you come undone on him.

The way his thick cock is stretching you out has your mind going blank. Joshua is fucking into your wet cunt until your moans turn into incoherent babbles. His hips are rolling into yours desperately, and you mewl wantonly when you feel his heavy balls slapping against your ass.

“God, you’re so fucking tight.” Josh gasps.

“Oh fuck.” You whine, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten. “I’m gonna—“

Josh groans when he feels your cunt tightly clamp down on his pulsing cock. He looks down and sees his dick is glistening with the arousal dripping from you. He bites his lip, feeling more turned on than ever. By this point he’s thrusting into you sloppily, hips losing their rhythm as hits against your sweet spot.

With one last thrust, you finally break. Joshua groans loudly as your walls spasm around his cock. He loves the sight of you creaming all over him, and that’s all it takes for him to come. Thick, hot ropes of his cum spill into your walls. He surprises you when he starts fucking his cum into you, hitting your spongy spot over and over again with a smirk.

Eventually, he stills and slowly pulls out of you.

You whimper when he spread your lips to watch his cum drip out of you. For a moment you think he’s done until he’s shoving his face into your sloppy cunt, sucking and licking at it like a starved man. You hiss at the overstimulation, but it feels so fucking good.

Joshua pulls away from you with a smirk. Your thighs are quivering, and the sight makes him shove his still-hard cock back inside of you. He throbs inside your hot cunt, stretching you open with every snap of his hips.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” Josh rasps, as he starts fucking into you like it’s the last time he’ll get to have you like this.

“J-Josh.” You whimper as you arch your back. “S-So fucking good.”

It’s crazy how fast he finds your sweet spot again. He keeps slamming his cock against that spot, and it makes you feel almost dizzy. Joshua seems to notice this because he starts snapping his hips deeper into you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel the veins of his thick cock dragging along your velvety walls.

The sound you let out when Josh throws one of your legs over his shoulder is so fucking sexy that he can’t help, but moan along with you. All the arousal coating your inner thighs makes a sticky mess and fills his room with lewd squelching sounds.

“Don’t stop!” You plead, bucking your hips upwards to match his thrusts.

Josh watches his cock slip in and out of you with a loud moan. To see your cream covering his cock drives him wild. He picks up the pace, needing to see you come all over his dick again. Your mouth is dropped open in pleasure, and before he can think twice about it, he presses his lips to yours and drinks in every muffled squeal as he angles himself to bury his tip against the sensitive, velvety spot of your walls.

You can only moan as Josh continues to slam his long, veiny cock inside your tight little cunt. He smirks when you groan and drive your nails into his lithe back. Your legs tremble as he keeps thrusting into you, his girth splitting you open all over again.

“You just can’t get enough of my cock, can you, baby?” He tells with a smirk. You can’t respond because he sinks his teeth into your neck as your walls tighten on his throbbing cock.

“Fucking love your cock.” You mewl.

The way his mouth sucks on your neck and nips at your skin is almost too much and makes your head spin. Josh slips his hand down to your wet pussy, circling his fingers against your slippery bud. It only takes a few calculated strokes for you to cream and gush around his cock. Your toes curl as you orgasm with a loud cry of ecstasy.

Joshua groans as he feels his own climax take over him. Your tight cunt continues to milk him until he's forced to stop and pour himself into you. The feeling of his hot seed painting your walls is something that you’ll never get enough of. He sloppily fucks you both through your orgasms until he can no longer handle the overstimulation.

It takes you by surprise when Josh presses a tender kiss to your lips. He only grins at you before he rolls over with you on top of him. Somehow, he manages to keep his cock inside you as he nuzzled into your hair. He lets out a deep breath and gently runs his large hands up and down your back.

“Will you stay?” He asks shyly, and you can’t believe that this is the same guy who was railing you like no one else ever had before.

“Yeah.” You grin. “I might as well get used to being here.”

Joshua doesn’t try to hide his grin. He never thought that this was how things would turn out, but he’s so glad they did. Because now he was never going to let you go.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs

I'd Wait For You - Joshua Hong

Synopsis: Joshua was your best friend, the person who has witnessed you grow and blossom. That includes being front row to watching you fall in and out of love with people. Joshua was convinced he could treat you better. Could you find yourself to let him in?

Pairing: non-idol! Joshua Hong x fem reader

Genre: Angst, childhood friends to lovers, fluff here and there!

Word Count: 2.3k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

When Joshua thought of the person he was, it was because of you. You were the one who helped him pick out clothes so he found his style, you were the one who boosted his confidence he he doubted himself and pushed him to try new things, and you were the one who helped him made bad decisions sometimes in the hopes of making long-lasting memories. You were his person.

It was written by the universe that the two of you would be best friends. With your mothers being so close, there is no denying that you two will always have an important place in each other's lives.

Ever since you were younger, you two didn't go somewhere without the other. You attended the same schools, even the same college. Sure, college led you two to different friend groups, different activities, and different majors. But you always made time for each other even when life got busy. You two would study constantly and promised to have one meal together once a week. And you two never broke that promise.

Anyone who witnessed your friendship always commented there was something more. Joshua saw it too. He easily fell for you. How couldn't he? You accepted every version of himself and were the person who brought him an immense source of comfort. He couldn't imagine life without you.

Unfortunately, he had to imagine what it would be like to be with you.

"Do you think he's worth it?" You sighed.

The two of you were on FaceTime. It was a Tuesday night. While Joshua was at home, waiting for his food delivery, you were busy getting ready for a date.

Part of the reason why Joshua had to imagine what life would be like if you two were together is because you were seeing someone. For the past few months, you've been dating this guy named Ben. Now, Joshua didn't think much of Ben at first. He didn't seem like your type, so he thought he would come and go.

And he has to some extent. Ben and you had this awful habit of breaking up and getting back together. While it pained Joshua to see you with someone else, he loved the moments you confided him about your dating woes. He took mental notes of dos and donts for when you two (hopefully) get together. Ben was striking out left and right, mainly due to his poor communication. What Joshua didn't understand was why you always found yourself going back to him.

"Y/n, I don't know. You guys break up so much, I've lost count," he laughed. "It's only been 3 times," you groaned. "3 times what? This week?" "But he said he's changed this time. I mean, he even sent flowers to my apartment after our argument two nights again. That's got to mean something, right?" Joshua wanted to roll his eyes so much at your rationale. He adored you with every fiber in his being, and he didn't want to come across as dismissive, but he felt frustrated both because of you and for you. Ben was not worth it in his eyes. Nobody is worth it for you except for him. But he was your best friend. That was his role. "Maybe, angel. But there's only so much flowers can do to make up for how he treats you sometimes." Your smile had flattened by Joshua's words. And it pained him. He never wanted to be a source of sadness in your life. I guess that's why Joshua often pushed his feelings for you aside. He didn't want to be selfish and confess because that might cause a bigger mess. He loved you. He has since he was 8 years old. If you only saw him as a best friend, he would proudly take that role.

In a perfect world, you would confess to Joshua your feelings. He was ready to embrace those feelings head-on because he knew how he felt about you. What kept him back was not knowing how you felt towards him. You've always been so prominent in each other's lives. He didn't want to imagine a world without you. He was terrified that if he did ever confess, it would only push you away.

Joshua had found himself as the leading man in a tragic love story. "Just promise me something?" He requested. "Whatever you decide, follow your heart."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had to hang up the phone call in order to get ready for your date. Joshua sighed once you face vanished from his phone. He set the phone on the coffee table before driving his fingers through his hair.

How could this happen? You were supposed to be with him, not with some random guy you met who knows where? Not with someone who doesn't see your value.

The whole situation frustrated him beyond belief. On paper, you guys were a perfect match. You two knew each other like the back of your hand. Even when you did have a disagreement, you guys would not allow it to blow up. You spoke to each other with respect, even if you were both angry because you cared about each other. In some ways, you could say you loved each other. Joshua definitely was in love with you.

He has received relentless teasing from his friends about his lack of making a move on you. His friends thought even pushing might cause him to crack. And it almost did. Yet, he was still afraid of losing you and now he might actually be.

You always saw him as a friend, or at least that's what Joshua believed. You two were best friends, nothing more and nothing less. This wasn't some love story where the childhood best friends fall for each other, no matter how many times he prayed it would happen. This was his reality. If he had to let you go to keep you in his life, he would. And he would be there to pick up the pieces each time.

Suddenly, a buzz brought Joshua out of his mind and back to the present moment. He sat up a little straighter, looking towards the door of his apartment. Did he hear that correctly? He glanced towards the clock on the wall. 8:16pm.

Ding dong. Who could that be?

Joshua pushed himself off of the couch before shuffling towards the door. It was just a short walk towards the front of the apartment. He slowly unlocked the top lock and twisted the doorknob to unlock his front door.

There you were.

"Y/n?! What happened?" "Why didn't you fight for me?"

Your voice was calm, yet your body language screamed rage. You had your hair pulled back in a clip, exposing your bare face to the world. You looked divine, but Joshua didn't have time to compliment you. He noticed how your eyebrows were slightly scrunched up while you stared into him. He thought your gaze was going to burn a hole right through them. You were wearing a zip-up hoodie and sweatpants.

"Answer me, Joshua."

Oh no, I'm in deep shit. He was at a loss for words as he stared at you. His mind racking through all the interactions you had. Did he say something over FaceTime? Did he forget to say something? Did you ask him to do something but he forgot? He was drawing a blank.

"Do you like me yes or no, Joshua? Because everyone is saying you do besides you."

His eyes grew wide at that statement. Who spilled? "Y/n, listen-" "No, Joshua, you listen. How dare you let me go on dates with people who treat me poorly. You're my best friend! We're supposed to tell each other everything." That part you whispered. "How could you not tell me?"

"What a damn minute," Joshua finally said. He had a raised eyebrow before opening the door all the way. He stepped aside to let you in, motioning for you to follow him. "I am not going to argue with you outside of my apartment. Get in." You sighed and nodded, slowly stepping in. Obviously something happened in between from the moment you guys to now. Who did you speak to? Who told you his secret? Why were you angry?

Once you were fully into his apartment, Joshua closed the door. You immediately found a spot on his couch, right beside where he was previously sitting. Your hands were locked in front of you, your one leg bouncing. Your breathing was starting to slow down a bit but you gaze was still locked on him. While not as intense, you still had your eyes trained on him.

"Can I get you a water or something before we continue this conversation?" He asked gently.

"There you go again!" You groaned. Your head leaned until it hit the pillow behind you. Your gaze is now trained on the ceiling above you two. He was surprised, completely speechless as he thought he was doing the right thing. "I'm so sick of you being nice to me."

Joshua raised an eyebrow before shuffling over to you. He took a seat on the couch beside you but kept enough distance. He wasn't sure how to process all that was transpiring, but he needed to understand where you were coming from. And apparently have some explaining to you.

"Y/n, sweet girl, you need to tell me what's going on." "You is what is going on," you confessed.

Slowly, you sat up until you were at eye level with him once again. The room was tense. He was nervous, afraid that what you had been told was going to bring his worst fear to reality - that he might lose you. "Joshua, you've set too high of a standard for me. You're kind without asking for anything in return. You treat me like a fucking princess when I'm only your best friend. I'm angry that we aren't together but you treat me better than any guy I've been with."

Was this actually happening? Were you confessing to him? "Y/n, do you like me?" 'I have liked you since I knew what it meant to have a crush on someone," you admitted. "But."

Not the cursed 'but.' "We're best friends. I didn't eat to be presumptuous and think you like me when we've been friends for so long. But then Seungkwan told me that you had feelings for me yesterday. I didn't think it was true especially not when you pushed me to go out with someone else tonight."

Fuck. "Y/n, look, we are best friends," Joshua began. You looked at him as if you just stabbed him in the heart. "But, I fell in love with my best friend."

Very gently, he took both of your hands in his. You stared up at him with a facial expression he couldn't recognize. This was new for both of you. You were venturing into uncharted territory for the two of you. His thumbs caressed over your knuckles which both soothed your nerves but caused your heart to pound faster. "This was not the way I planned on telling you," he confessed. "I actually wanted to tell you once you were single again because I didn't want to stand in the way of being happy." This time, you reached out to him. Keeping one hand in his, your other hand reached over to run your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back to expose his face more. You seemed to relax under your touch which made you smile for the first time that evening. "Josh, I'm my happiest when I'm with you. Have I not made that clear in all the years we've known each other?" "Y/n, you know I have too much respect for you and too much invested in this friendship to just assume someone like you could ever be into me." You squeezed his hand gently, unable to stifle the giggle leaving your lips. You moved closer to him, our lips almost right under his. "This is so silly. What are we doing? Why are we keeping ourselves from being our happiest versions of ourselves?" He smirked at your question. With his free hand, he cupped your cheek gently. His thumb caressed over your cheek affectionately as he gazed into your eyes. He always has been mesmerized by the fact that your eyes captured any light in the room. They sparkled like two disco balls. "Let's change that," he murmured.

Time stopped. He leaned in so his lips grazed against yours as if he was testing the waters. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable with what was about to happen, as there was no turning back. When you didn't pull away, he got the green light he's been chasing after. His lips fully pressed against yours.

Your head gently tilted up, leaning to the side so your lips fit against him like two missing puzzle pieces. It felt like tiny sparks were going off against your lips. It was a feeling the two of you would soon be addicted to. And it felt so comfortable, so natural. His lips slowly chased after yours for a moment.

Even though he felt the urge to continue kissing you, to never let this moment pass, he did pull back. His forehead found yours, revealing the wide grin the two of you wore. He couldn't help but chuckle before pecking your lips once more. Joshua was just over the moon. He was eager for whatever may be next for the two of you, especially now that there were no limitations. You were his best friend, but now the girl who knew how he felt.

"I kept my promise you know," you spoke softly.

Joshua raised an eyebrow but kept a warm smile. Now what were you talking about? "You had me promise to follow my heart. And I did. You've been my heart, my love all this time."

𝘑𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘢 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Virgin killer ♡★ -> @wonusite Part 2

Synopsis: You can’t stand the clear line the cute nerd in your calculus class always draws between you two. However, you’re determined to show him that there’s a fine line between love and hate. And if you happen to get him to cross that line, even better.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Anonymously Yours ♡୨୧✹ -> @joonsytip

Synopsis: After an accidental text message turns into a digital friendship, you and Joshua start crushing on each other without realizing you both see each other frequently in real life. Notable Mention: You both hate each other's guts....

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Pretty when you cry ★ -> @cheolhub

summary. joshua just loves how pretty you look when you’re in tears.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Say it back ♡ -> @diamondyjh

Synopsis: A tipsy Joshua is a clingy Joshua.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Vanilla ★♡ -> @milfgyuu

Summary: Joshua has a secret but perhaps it’s not really a secret at all. Maybe you’ve just refused to see it in an effort to keep your feelings at bay.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Wildest dreams ♡✹ -> @viastro

synopsis: it’s your last year of school forever, and you’re about to meet the most horrifying chapter of life: the real world. now worrying about your life’s lack of spontaneity, you decide to get married to your best friend in vegas for 24 hours.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Beautiful day Sunday morning ★♡ -> @sluttywoozi

Summary: Joshua’s tried everything, but he just can’t stop being in love with his best friend

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Steamy ★ -> @duhnova

next door neighbor!joshua - unfortunately in the middle of your shower your hot water breaks so you have to go next door and ask your unnaturally hot neighbor if you can use his

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Domino ♡✹★ -> @universecorp

Summary: After a one night stand on your birthday, you never expected to meet the stranger again. You also never expected him to enter your life permanently.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Under the rose ♡★ -> @just-come-baek

Summary: You’ve known Joshua your entire life, and it has always irked you when he got praised for the same things you were scolded for. You hate these societal double standards thrown upon you almost as much as people who judge you for it. Thankfully, you have Joshua, who just gets you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Late to the party ★ -> @sluttywoozi Part 2 , Sundress Szn

Summary: You try to convince Joshua to go to Cheol's birthday party. Joshua tries to convince you to have a party for two | husband!joshua, husband joshua is horny and in love with you

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Your gentleman ★ -> @wonwussy

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Leaning on the everlasting arms ♡୨୧★ -> @onlyhuis

synopsis | as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Best friend's brother ♡୨୧★ -> @chocosvt

synopsis: joshua happens to be your best friend's older brother. he's pretty, and he's got a lot of cool details about him that you pay a concerning amount of attention to, but he’s just a friend (if you could even call it that). still, what does he think of you, anyway? that is—if he thinks of you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ To you ♡୨୧★ -> @onlymingyus

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Fine line ♡୨୧★ -> @heartkyeom

synopsis: as a joshua fangirl, getting the chance to interview him as a teenager was an absolute dream. 10 years later with a flourishing career as a writer and a strained relationship with him, he wants to do a 10 year reunion interview about his path to the upcoming Olympics. there’s only one problem: you’re staying at his house and trying not to address your old feelings for him.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Untitled ♡୨୧ -> @gyu-effect

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Paint by numbers ♡୨୧ -> @chocosvt

synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong. 

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Golden Hour ♡ -> @dkfile

summer ends in less than a month, leaving you with a limited amount of time to build up the courage to profess your undying love for your best friend before he leaves again for college. alternatively the summer of pining, featuring a group of annoyed bystanders.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Cranberry concoctions ♡୨୧★ -> @onlyhuis

synopsis | you came to the infamous diamond glass looking for a good cocktail. instead, you found love in a hot bartender who also makes the best cosmos you’ve ever had.

[ More joshua recs will be updated ]

Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here

❁ pictures you've taken of your boyfriend, joshua

More of the boyfriend pictures series

PEOPLE DIED. (I'M PEOPLE) HELLO I'M FUCKING SCREAMING

gentleman

pairing: joshua x reader

tags: smut (18+), est relationship, pet names (baby, good girl), thigh riding

thinking about your boyfriend joshua who's just a little mean.

don't get things twisted though, he's an absolute dear to you, to your family—even brought the finest flowers to your house and cooked a fabulous dinner the first time he met your family.

he treats you gingerly: holds your hands on dates, smiles and stops you when you reach for your wallet at the end of the meal and tells you he’s got it.

he walks you home all nice and sound like a gentleman, grins at you when you open the door and turn around, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he leans against the doorframe, and then you laugh, telling him, “are you really waiting for me to invite you in?”

joshua smiles kindly when he rolls his eyes playfully and walks into your home as you pull him in. he’s sweet when he intertwines his fingers with yours as you two stumble into your dimly lit living room. he’s kind when he sinks into the couch, your body climbing on top of his lap, gently cupping your cheek when you lean in for the kiss.

everything about joshua is so gentleman-like, that sometimes you almost forget your boyfriend can have a bit of a mean streak.

"joshie—" you whine, when he slots his thigh between your legs mid-way through your make-out session. "joshie please, please, please, not today," you beg, pulling away from his lips and smoothing your hands over his shoulders.

your handsome boyfriend only leans back and gazes down at you, a sleazy grin beginning to tug at his lips. "not today?" he asks in a sickly sweet tone. "what do you mean by that baby?" his hands run over your torso and settle by your waist, pressing your hips down so your core presses further into his thick thigh.

"joshua," you pant, inhaling sharply at the jolts of pleasure that shoot through your core at the friction, resisting the urge to rock yourself against him. "joshie please, don't make me do it."

"do what?" his eyebrow is raised and joshua is wearing that mean, mean smile, and your cunt clenches around nothing in the anticipation of what's to come. "oh," he chuckles lowly when your mouth opens but a moan comes out instead of words. "you mean make you ride my thigh? but baby, you know what good girls do, don't you?"

you try and shake your head, but joshua is quick to cup your face and give you that look. "what do good girls do, baby? tell me what they do."

sniffling, you rock your hips harder down on the thick muscle, joshua flexing his thigh underneath you causing your head to fall forward and rest on his shoulder. pleasure courses through your veins when you take a steady inhale and murmur, "good girls cum without being touched."

"see baby? you do know ..."

"joshie—" you gasp when he bounces his leg up as you're about to grind down, stimulation shooting through your cunt, wetness leaking through your panties under your skirt, and staining the dark denim of your boyfriend's jeans.

"so tell me baby," joshua says so casually, if no one else knew what he was talking about, they would think he's the most angelic person alive. you know better, and your suspicions are confirmed when his eyes glint under the moonlight that breaks through your window. "are you gonna be a good girl tonight?"

The way I binge read this omg it’s so so good !!! Shua and yn are such adorable beans ahh and they deserve the world !! Also the entire group is so iconic, hao’s so real for the way he reacts for his ship , them being detective was so funny and hoshi and woozi lmao so entertaining! Also love eunha such a queen andd all of them thirsting over jin lol again so real of them ! It was such a fun read and I love this smm💗💗🥰

you were beautiful | masterlist

ミ☆  seventeen social media au

ミ★ synopsis: a modernized cinderella au. in which you and joshua meet through your love for boba popsicles, but end up living out your very own complicated, mess filled, cinderella story.

ミ★ genre: strangers to lovers, humor, fluff, a bit of angst

ミ★ pairings: joshua x female reader

ミ★ start: may 5, 2020            end: july 23, 2020

Keep reading

aksjakjr Joshua is so cute but also such a menace who’s so hot and funny lol lovee this 💗💗

I Think He Knows

SUMMARY: You've been in love with Joshua for as long as you can remember, yet you've never been able to tell him. Fortunately or unfortunately, you're pretty sure that he already knows.

GENRE: smut, fluff

PAIRING: Joshua Hong x afab!reader

WC: 4.9k

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie

SERIES TAGLIST: @captain-brie @nobraincellmode @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: uhhh, best friends to lovers, Hoshi being a snitch, p in v sex, brief oral (fem receiving), ddry humping, a bit of spanking, brat tamer!Joshua, brat!reader, tiny bit of angst if you really really squint, consent is IMPORTANT, tiny bit of alcohol, horrible flirting, multiple orgasms, idk this isn't my best work. It's also not edited so uh....good luck lol.

A/N: heyyyyyy 🥰. I'm not dead clearly, but my god has it been a minute. part of me is wondering if this series will ever be done but i'm doing my best. school sucks, work sucks, life is a bitch, and I burnt myself out. Anyway, thank you to Brie and Ally for betaing, much love kiss kiss. ALSO HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYYY

Your heart pounds ferociously in your chest, butterflies tumbling through your stomach uncomfortably. You feel like a teenager again, sitting in front of Joshua who has a boyish grin on his face. One of his hands traces along the bottom of his champagne glass, the other resting on the table and playing with the cork of the expensive bottle. You wonder if he knows how he makes your head spin with just a little smile and a glass of champagne. The thought doesn’t linger for long, and you let your gaze lower back to the practically empty plate before you. A few roasted vegetables remain on the plate, and you pick at them with your fork to avoid looking at your friend. 

Friends. That’s what you are. Nothing more, nothing less. As you always had been. 

Friends that took each other out to expensive restaurants, bought expensive drinks and expensive meals. Friends that—

“Soonyoung told me something interesting today,” he leans forward, dipping his head down to try and catch your eye. You glance up at him, but the fluttering in your stomach returns and forces your eyes back down.

“Oh yeah?” You murmur, thanking god for the dim lighting around you.

“Mhm. He mentioned you, actually.” 

Pause.

Kwon Soonyoung was the only person in the world who knew about your years-long crush on your best friend. If you could even call it a crush at this point. You’d admitted to yourself long ago that you were in love with him, admitted it to Soonyoung a few months back. You should’ve known better than to trust the mouthiest person in your friend group. 

“Now I’m curious,” you lift your head again, steeling yourself against the onslaught of nausea at what your mutual friend could have said. 

“He said,” Joshua shifts in his seat, running his tongue over his lower lip. “That you have feelings for me.”

Damn you Kwon Soonyoung. 

You nod slowly, lowering your fork onto the ceramic plate in front of you. The pounding in your chest has returned, hitting so hard against your ribs that you fear your heart will pop out and land right on the table in front of Joshua. 

“And…do you believe him?” You ask, failing to control the fear in your voice. Joshua smiles, and for a moment you let the fear wash away. Joshua Hong is the last person that you should feel afraid of. He was kind, he would never intentionally harm someone whether emotionally or physically, and he understood you better than most other people. You try to keep this in mind as you make eye contact. 

“I would be lying if I said that I didn’t at least hope he was telling the truth.” Joshua sits up, lacing his hands together and resting his elbows on the table. A spark, and you find the corners of your lips lifting. “Otherwise, my plans for the evening are a bit…a bit ruined, I guess.”

“You had other plans?” The champagne burns against the back of your throat as you down the rest of your glass. 

“Depends on how you respond to my question.” His eyes burn into yours and suddenly the table for two feels a lot smaller. 

“What question is that?” I already know, and I know my answer.

“Are you,” Joshua slides his glass to the side, “in love with me.”

“Yes.” You respond without hesitation, ripping the band-aid off and shocking both of you. Never had you been this forward with Joshua. You were always somewhat reserved with…everything, really. Past relationships, struggling with a subject, a pet passing away. You never wanted to let Joshua in and it made his heart swell that you did now. “I’ve— I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”

Joshua sucks in a sharp breath of air, leaning back in his seat and smiling thoughtfully.

“I answered your questions,” you drum your painted nails on the table. “Now you get to answer mine.”

“Ask away.” Joshua waves his hand. 

“What sort of plans did you have for us?” 

The question was innocent— at least to you it was— but as you watch Joshua’s eyes darken with lust, you realize that the implications…may not have been as innocent as you had believed. You think he knows where your mind has derailed to, knows what thoughts have begun to plague you. 

Joshua tips back his glass of champagne, and you watch him carefully. You allow yourself to admire the way his neck cranes, the way his jaw is hit by the light. He drains the golden liquid in two long sips, wiping away the excess that rested on his lips with a delicate swipe of his thumb. 

“We’ll get to that,” he emphasizes the word, watching you tilt your head down and bite at your lip. “I have some other things I’d like to do before anything else.”

He flags down your waiter, calmly asking for the bill. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, disturbed by how the mild flirting had already gotten you worked up, but wait patiently for Joshua. You wouldn’t deny the fact that you were eager to see what he had in store for the two of you, what he’d planned on such short notice. 

“You ready?” He taps the table with one finger, already beginning to stand. 

“As I’ll ever be.” Your lips twist into a smile as he helps to pull out your chair, grabbing your jacket before you even had a chance to reach for it. “Aren’t you just a gentleman?”

“You should know by now that all I’m doing is the bare minimum.” He scolds, and you don’t pretend you don’t notice his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips. 

“Best friends don’t pull out chairs for each other.” It’s a joke, both of you know it. You’re fully aware that after tonight, neither of you will ever be best friends again. Whether he asks you to stay with him or not, at the end of the night nothing will be the same. This doesn’t, however, stop Joshua from scoffing and tugging you by the waist to come closer to him. You stumble, nearly falling into his chest had his hands not been right there to catch you. 

“I think you know,” his voice is a quiet rumble, “that we’re never going to be best friends again after this, Y/N. You’re mine now, and I don’t think I’ll ever let you go.”

You have to fight everything inside of you to not yank him down by that dark hair of his and kiss him in the middle of that crowded restaurant. Thankfully, it looks as if Joshua is fighting that same urge, one hand dropping down and the other sliding to the small of your back to guide you toward the door. 

You’re mine now.

It’s a wonder that you make it to the car without jumping Joshua’s bones, but it seems you have more self-control than you’d given yourself credit for. The whole ride to…wherever it was that Joshua was taking you, you somehow managed to keep your hands in your lap, rubbing at your palm with your thumb. From the corner of your eye, you can see Joshua. He has one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the center console. He glances at you periodically, scanning your side profile.

“You’ve gotten quiet,” Joshua comments, drumming his fingers while you wait at a stoplight. Your eyes flick to his, and you purse your lips. “Are you…did I make you uncomfortable at all? Do— do you want me to bring you home?” 

“No,” you tell him quickly, shaking your head. “No. I want to stay with you.” 

The response soothes him, and he lets his hand drift to your thigh. He lets it hover over your exposed skin, waiting for you to push him away before he finally lets it rest on you. His hand is warm, his touch sending sparks through your body. You swallow hard, leaning back against the seat and staring at the road in front of you. Would it be wrong to tell him you want him to touch you more? To bring his hands just a bit higher, to—

Joshua’s hand squeezes a bit, drawing you back to reality. The light is green now and your body jerks as he presses on the gas. He lets his hand drift a bit higher, grazing underneath the fabric of your dress before stopping. Heat begins to pool in the pit of your stomach and you contemplate grabbing his hand and putting it right where you need it if he doesn’t move faster.

“You’re a menace.” You click your tongue and Joshua looks at you with a mocking pout.

“I didn’t do anything!” 

He’s right. Technically he hadn’t done anything. You, however, were on the verge of doing something very…inappropriate if he didn’t knock it off.

“I’m sure you didn’t.” You let your hand fall to his, tracing the back of it with your pointer finger, and watch the veins pop as he squeezes for the third time. You’re approaching a very familiar street with some very familiar houses. “Are we…are we going back to my place?” 

Joshua smirks. “Small change of plans.”

The giddiness inside of you returns, your head spinning as you think of all the things he could (and likely would) do to you. Your fingers lace through his, your heel-clad foot tapping against the floor protector in his car as he pulls into your driveway. He puts the car into park but leaves the engine running. For a few moments, neither of you says anything. The air between you is thick with tension, tension that grows when he tugs you toward him. 

“Tell me now if you don’t want this.” Joshua breathes out, his lips mere centimeters from your own. If you tilt your head just a bit, you’ll be able to kiss him— something you’ve craved since the day you met him. “Tell me now and I’ll walk you to your door and say goodnight.” 

“And if I do want this?” Your eyebrow arches, a playful look in your eyes. “What then, Joshua Hong?”

His eyes flutter, exhaling heavily as he tries to keep his composure.

“You’re going to be the death of me, I think.”

When Joshua kisses you, it isn’t as rough as you’d imagined. No, he’s gentle with you. His kiss ignites a fire inside of you, the flames swirling through your veins and heating your body until you fear you’re burning up. He cradles your jaw in one large hand as if you were glass and you would shatter if he held you too roughly. His lips move softly against your own, parting the slightest bit to catch your lower lip with his teeth. It’s a delicate dance, almost playful, and you couldn’t have asked for anything more. Your head tilts, allowing you to kiss him deeper, and a quiet groan leaves him. You smile a bit into the kiss, Your hand sliding up his chest to curl into the fabric of his shirt and pull him closer to you. Both of you ignore the fact that your body is halfway across the center console, your thigh resting on the seat between his legs keeping you propped up when his hands become distracted by the curves in your hips

The two of you only stop when you feel like you can’t breathe, your chest tight with the lack of air. 

“You taste good,” Joshua murmurs, his nose nudging yours as he gazes at you with heavy eyes.

“You think so?” Your lips press against his jaw, and he smiles tightly.

“Mhm.”

“You should turn off the car and take me inside so you can find out what else tastes good.”

That must have been the right thing to say, because Joshua’s eyes darken in an instant and then he’s shutting the engine off, slamming his car door shut, and walking quickly over to your side. When he opens your door, you don’t wait for him to outstretch his hand before you practically spring to your feet, grabbing him by the sleeve and yanking him after you. He laughs as he stumbles along behind you, tugging his arm out of your grasp and squeezing at your waist over the fabric of your dress. Your hands are trembling, the heat in your stomach growing more intense by the minute.

“Struggling, pretty girl?” 

His breath against your ear and his lips on your neck sends chills down your spine and you inhale sharply as his hand wraps around yours to help you guide the key into the lock. Your eyes are starting to flutter, your feet stumbling into the foyer of your home. Joshua presses you onward, one of his hands on the small of your back and the other flicking on the lights. You spin around to face him, your hands coming to his chest and curling around his tie to pull him down to kiss you again.

“At least let me get you upstairs,” he mumbles against your lips, grinning when you whine in protest.

“Can’t wait that long,” you deny, already fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He grins, backing you through the doorway to your living room. 

He stops your movements to spin you away from him. You face your window now, curtains drawn and the windows to your neighbor's house across the street staring right back at you. “All your neighbors will see us. Is that what you want?” He’s kissing down your neck, hands trailing to the back of your dress to undo the clasp. 

“Let them see.” You hold your head high, hands clenching into fists as the fabric slides down your body and hits the ground with a soft thump, leaving your body completely bare except for a thin pair of lacey panties. “Let’s put on a show for them.” 

“Interesting.” Joshua seems entirely unaffected by the statement, but the way he pulls you back against him to grind against the growing bulge in his pants is saying something entirely different. “Didn’t take you as someone to like being watched. I’ll have to explore that another time.” 

You mean to respond, words forming at the tip of your tongue but never escaping your lips as Joshua pushes at your shoulder, slowly guiding you to the ground. Your knees fold beneath you, your eyes wide and filled with stars as he moves into your line of vision and then away from you. You watch as he lets the curtains fall and cover your windows, and then he turns back to face you and continues to unbutton his shirt, loosening his tie until it hangs loosely around his shoulders.

“What are you doing, Shua?” Your voice is weaker than you’d wanted it to be. 

Joshua smiles coyly, leaning down until he’s at eye level with you. “I said that I would explore that at a later date, pretty girl. Not tonight. Tonight, you’re mine.”

“Yours?” Your hand rises to cup his cheek similarly to how he held yours just a few minutes ago. 

“Mine.” 

His knees hit the ground on either side of you, leaning over your body until you’re forced to lay back. Your legs stretch out to make his position a bit more comfortable, your knees rubbing together in anxious anticipation for what’s to come. 

You expect him to kiss you, your lips starting to pucker and your eyes fluttering shut as he lowers his face to yours once again, but nothing happens. Your eyes open to find him mere inches from you with that same smirk playing on his lips. 

“What are you smirking at?” You ask him, but he doesn’t answer. He shifts further down your body, laying a soft kiss on your collarbone that has your breath hitching briefly. Another kiss, this one closer to where your heart lays pounding underneath your ribs. Your hand twitches, aching to run through his hair, but the second you move to act on this urge he’s pinning your hand to the ground and glowering at you. 

“No touching.” Joshua commands, mouthing at the soft flesh of your breast. “Not until I’ve tasted every last inch of your skin.” 

He slips further down your body, leaving trails of soft kisses in his wake. The only sound in the house is the soft pop as his lips leave your skin and the heaviness of your breathing. 

When Joshua reaches the hem of your panties, he stops and trails his finger along it. The brush of his skin on yours is so subtle, yet you’re addicted to the feeling of it. So many nights you had cum to the thought of him tugging your panties down your legs, his eyes boring into yours as he lowers his mouth to your glistening cunt, imagining how it would feel to have him licking and sucking nipping at your folds. So many nights, and yet nothing comes even close to how it really feels. 

The second he runs his tongue from your hole to your clit, your back is arching off the ground and a loud gasp is echoing throughout your home. Your hands fly to Joshua’s hair despite his prior instructions, but he doesn’t seem to care as he drags his tongue and teeth across you. Your legs try to squeeze around his head, attempt to trap him against you, but he doesn’t let you. His large hands pry your legs away from him, squeezing harshly at your thighs and pinning them to the ground on either side of you.

He mumbles into your cunt with loud and drawn out sounds that reverberate through your body and have your legs jerking with pleasure. 

“Shua,” you gasp out, your eyes rolling as he sucks particularly hard at your clit. “Shua, fuck.” 

A loud smack rings out, and your thigh begins to sting. Your eyes widen, your head lifting off the ground at the same time that Joshua’s pulls away from you, his mouth dripping with your arousal. 

“What the fuck—” 

Another smack to the side of your thigh, and you yelp. Joshua raises an eyebrow. 

“Want me to keep going?” You can’t tell if he’s insane or not. You can’t tell if you want to smack him or beg him for more. You don’t get the chance to retort before he’s smacking your thigh again, harder this time. “That wasn’t rhetorical, pretty girl.”

Your teeth grind together, and one of your feet comes to his shoulder to shove him back. Maybe he lets you push him back. Maybe he wants you to fight back. Maybe he was waiting for it, because when you lean your body over him, he’s grinning maliciously at you.

“Who do you think you are, smacking me like that?” You hiss, and he pouts.

“Like what? Like this?” His hand comes down again, this time directly on your ass and sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. 

“Joshua Hong,” you snap, but there’s no real anger behind it as you begin to grind your lower body into his clothed cock. His hands come to rest on your waist, watching as you try to form words and pleasure yourself at the same time. “If you keep pulling shit—”

Smack

Your body shudders and an airy moan pushes out of your lips despite how you fight it. Joshua grins again.

“What were you saying, pretty girl? If I keep pulling shit…what? What are you going to do, baby?” 

You can’t answer him, your hips rolling into his harder and faster as you approach your high. 

“Oh, baby.” Joshua coos, his voice shockingly stable despite how you’re practically riding him over his pants, effectively ruining them with your juices. “You’re a little desperate, aren’t you?”

“Oh shut up,” you whine, folding forward until your mouth is right next to his ear. Your moans and whines are right in his ear now, intentional on your part, and his grip on your waist tightens. “Feels so good, Joshie.”

“Yeah?” He’s quieter now, a low growl in the back of his throat as he fights to keep his hips on the ground. Fights to let you have your little moment, your little bit of control over him. “How good, baby?”

“Gonna cum,” your lips find the skin beneath his ear, sucking a mark into his flesh as your hips begin to stutter. “F— god, Shua, please!”

“It’s okay, pretty girl,” Joshua coos, a bit of pride welling in his chest at how fast you learned. “You can let go. Go ahead and cum for me, pretty girl.”

Almost as soon as he says those words, you’re letting out a loud, near pitiful moan and your body begins to shake over his. A wave of arousal soaks into his pants, seeping through and beginning to wet his boxers, but he doesn’t mind. Not when the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen is cumming for him, moaning his name and no one else’s. 

Joshua can’t stop his hips from jerking into yours, pleasuring you even as your orgasm begins to ebb away. When he sits up, he cradles the back of your head in one hand, his eyes boring into yours in such a way that has you whining for him, clinging to his shoulders and turning away. 

“So pretty when you cum,” Joshua murmurs, lifting the two of you up and giving you a second to wrap your arms and legs around him as he loops around your living room to the couch. “Gonna fuck you now, okay pretty girl?”

“Okay,” you nod, but your eyes aren’t focusing and neither is your mind. It feels like you’re on cloud 9, and Joshua hasn’t even taken his pants off yet. 

He peers down at you, mild concern showing in his delicate features. 

“Y/N,” his hands are caressing your sides gently, pulling you back down to focus on him. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” you promise, smiling lightly at him. “I just…it’s hard for me to actually, like, believe that you want me how I want you.” 

Joshua smiles. “And how, exactly, do you want me?”

“Wholly. I want everything. I want all your love, all of your problems, every doubt, and every moment— good or bad.” His eyes soften as you speak, and for the first time that night he’s the one that’s gone quiet. “I want you carnally, I want you to crave my touch and my taste as much as I crave yours. Every kiss, every intimate moment. I want them all.”

“And you’ll have them.” Joshua promises, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s a deep, lingering kiss. His lips part against your own, your tongues dancing together but not dominating each other. Your hands cup his neck, holding him close to you, and in that moment you don’t hear the clinking of his belt or the sound of his zipper sliding down. 

“You promise?” You pull away from him, your lungs burning from the lack of air. Joshua smiles at you, and his lips press against your forehead. 

“I think you know the answer to that, pretty girl.” 

And you do. 

He would never have to say it, you always know. Joshua Hong, in all the years you’d been best friends, had never once told you something if he didn’t 100% believe it, if he wasn’t absolutely sure that he would or could hold himself to it. He didn’t have to promise you, you could see it in the way he looked at you. Soft eyes, pretty smile, that little wrinkle in his nose. You knew the answer. 

“I’m gonna start pushing in now,” Joshua murmurs, aligning his cock with your entrance, shuddering at the seemingly never ending flow of arousal. “Let me know if you need me to slow down or stop.”

“Okay,” you nod, draping your arms over his shoulders and forcing your body to relax. 

He pushes in slowly, but the stretch of him filling every little crevice inside of your cunt stings and causes you to let out a whimper. 

“I know,” he whispers, “just take it all, baby. Take it all for me like a good girl.” 

Your body shudders at that, and you let your head fall back onto the cushion below you. Inch by painful inch, he slides into you until your body begins to convulse and try to force him out. 

“Baby,” Joshua grinds out between gritted teeth, “You gotta stop clenching like that.”

“I— I can’t.” You moan out, your back arching off the couch. “Hurts so good, Shua.”

“That so?” Joshua grunts and shoves the last few inches into you, relishing in the pretty little wail that escapes you. “That’s another thing I’ll have to make note of, huh?” 

He doesn’t give you much time to respond before he’s hauling your legs up and around his waist, one hand gripping the arm of the couch and the other planted beside your head. A silver chain dangles above you, glittering in the low lighting of the living room but capturing your attention just long enough to tell Joshua to start moving. 

“Can’t,” he tells you breathlessly. “Fuck, clenching so tight I can’t move.”

“I don’t care.” You whine. “Just fuck me, please Shua, please, please, please fuck me—”

He cuts you off with a sharp thrust of his hips, shoving his dick just that tiny bit further into you that has you gasping as the air is punched out of your chest. 

“You’re lucky I love you.” He groans as he slowly pulls back, his dick practically drenched in your arousal, and then thrusts sharply back in, sheathing entirely inside of you. You cry loudly, a tear slipping down your cheeks and your legs tightening around his waist. Joshua repeats the action again and again, drinking in the way your head lolls to the side, your tongue practically hanging out of your mouth. 

Then he begins to fuck you, just as you asked. He thrusts into you with hard, deep strokes that have you wailing and thrashing against the couch cushion. Your body is convulsing beneath him, and he can only watch like a god watching his worshippers, as you beg for him to fuck you harder, faster, deeper as if he isn’t already going hard and fast and deep to a point beyond your fucked out mind’s comprehension. The couch shifts slightly on the ground, scraping against your hardwood floor, but the sound is drowned out by the combined volume of your cries and moans and whimpers along with his grunts and little moans. 

“Close,” he grunts, his head dropping to your chest to bite and suck at one of your tits. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

You clench around him in response, your back arching off the cushion to get closer to his mouth, relishing in the pleasure he’s providing you. “S—so good, Shua. Fuckin’ me so good.”

“Yeah?” He pulls away from your chest, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead as he stares down at you. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over your best friend?”

Your body shudders in response, and suddenly your vision goes white. You can faintly hear your own voice, your own pleads and screams of Joshua’s name as he pounds into you, forcing your juices out of you and giving you no time to recover from your orgasm before he’s shifting his hips and driving his cock into a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. Your hand clamps down over your mouth to muffle the animalistic sounds that pour out of you, but Joshua rips your hand away, pinning it down on the couch.

“Don’t you dare muffle a single sound that comes out of you,” he hisses. “Not a single one.”

You don’t have the strength, will, or energy to respond to him. Not as his cock begins to twitch inside of you and another orgasm threatens to wash over your body. One of Joshua’s hands, the one that had been pinning your hand to the couch, moves over your hip, and his eyes stay on you as his thumb begins to rub hard circles into your clit.

“Oh my—” your voice cracks. “Fuck, oh my god, Shua!”

“Cum for me,” he grunts, forcing his orgasm back so he doesn’t cum before you, despite you already having done so twice now. “Now, baby. God, please cum for me.”

And you do. 

It crashes over you like a rockslide, rough and strong, and crushing everything in its path. Your cunt clenches around Joshua so tightly you fear you might break him, but he only moans out your name and begins to spill white-hot cum inside of you. The combined fluids from the both of you are forced out as Joshua continues to fuck into you, slowly now compared to before. Soft, deep thrusts that carefully bring you down from the edge until both of you have finished, laying spent on your now ruined couch. 

“That…” your voice is raspy. “Is that how you’re gonna fuck me every night?”

“Is that how you want me to fuck you every night?” Joshua’s tongue laves over your skin, pressing gentle kisses against your neck. 

You think he knows the answer, but you tell him anyway with a sly grin on your face.

“You promised.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

H M M M SHOULD I MAKE SONG FICS FROM SVT’S SONGS (bc i unintentionally created my To Feel Love fic to become associated with the Vocal Unit’s song Hug and now i’m thinking hmmmmmmmm

and maybe i can take some requests for those fics with the svt members (or maybe create one for each) 😳 i’m going ballsy today

and maybe i can also just take in requests bc i wanna interact and improve my work 🥺🥺

♡ fluff | ✩ angst | ♪ personal favorite

Song Fic Series

S.Coups (c.sc)

♡ My Dawn | sfs

✩ Flower | sfs (currently down for editing)

Jeonghan (y.jh)

♡ Red | blurb

Joshua (h.js)

♡ Falling | blurb

Hoshi (k.sy) 

♡ ✩ Proud | oneshot 

Wonwoo (j.ww)

♡  Letters to You | sfs

Woozi (l.jh)

♡ ✩ ♪ To Feel Love | sfs

DK (l.sm)

♡ Daisy | sfs

Seungkwan (b.sk)

♡ Didn’t Stand a Chance | blurb

Vernon (h.vc)

♡ Korean Traditional Mungbean Pancake | oneshot

Falling (h.js)

~a mini blurb for Joshua~

song used: Regent’s Park by Bruno Major

MASTERLIST

Joshua gently placed your hand in his as the other sat at the small of your back. It was a standard slow dance position, his eyes twinkling down at yours as the two of you started swaying to Bruno Major’s Reagent’s Park. The soft reverb of the song allowed the two of you to get lost in each other’s eyes, something that rarely happened because of your clashing schedules, but the two of you held each other close, swaying to the song.

He gently spun you around, a bubble of your giggles releasing into the air, him bringing you close to his chest after. There were sickening smiles on your faces as you stared at each other. You gently placed your arms around his neck before burying your face in his chest, feeling it vibrate from his soft laughter. His strong arms wrapped around your torso and planted a lingering kiss on your hair, taking in the comforting scent of your shampoo. 

It was a simple two-step dance; the song itself is short, but the nearly 3-minute song felt like forever as the two of you bathed in each other’s presence, something that the two of you haven’t been able to do for a while. You reminisced of the memories of your high school prom, now slow dancing with him in your living room instead of the dingy school gym. Your thoughts faded as he placed his hand on your cheek, wishing to see your face once more, his heart swelling at the sight of you.

And he kissed you. 

It was a gentle kiss as if he would break you if he kissed you harder. But it was pure, pure innocence and love, his soft lips brushing against yours before pressing together again. Your hand rested on his as he gently rubbed your cheek; the matching silver bands of love on your fingers glinted in the city lights as he continued to hold you close. He smiled against your lips, soft giggles releasing from the both of you as your noses bumped against each other.

And as he looked at you with his soft eyes once more, you felt yourself falling in love with him once more.

THE MIRROR-BLUE NIGHT; ACT I

―PAIRING: joshua hong x fem!reader ―GENRE: SLOW burn, affair au, suggestive, angst, romance ―CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 11.2k ―CHAPTER WARNINGS: mild language, very minimal josh in this chapter (sorry), death mentions, cheating, lots of introspection ―STATUS: ongoing

―AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is act i to my entry for svthub's world tour collab. it's heavily inspired by wong kar wai's film 'in the mood for love', and it's been fun to play around with a totally different atmosphere and setting, and i hope everyone that reads this enjoys it! if you do, please consider reblogging with your thoughts and comments i would love to hear them. hopefully before long i will have the following two acts out for you to continue <3

ACT I

. . .

It’s raining. You hear the patter of droplets as they fall against your windows, a symphony of sorrows cascading from gray skies. When you were a child your mother used to tell you that the rain meant the heavens were crying. That some angel high above was weeping for the sorrow of those below–for the tragedy of humankind. She made up a lot of lies when you were young, stories to either make you feel better or to just force you to stop asking her questions while she was trying to watch her favourite shows. 

It never worked, and you never believed her. 

It was raining, too,  on the day that you cremated her. A near torrential downpour that had washed out the roads on your way to the funeral home and caused a four car pile up on the on ramp. You made it, breathless and haggard, just in time to drip your way through the procession to the front of the church pews where you sat, cloaked in the black of mourning, to watch a small line of people espouse pretty stories and prettier lies about the woman who raised you. 

Were you sad about her death? Of course you were. Death was always sad, in some deeply philosophical and uniquely human way. The ending of all things–life moving onwards to something better (or worse). Leaving everyone else behind to deal with the sorrow and suffering and debt. You could feel her death around you everywhere you went. The last breath of her life sighing over you on windy streets, the final whisper of her words in the chattering of birds in the morning dew. She was omnipresent. Oppressive. Somehow even more than she had been when she was alive. A heavy shroud over your every move. 

You were sad about her death, but you did not feel the pang of it in your heart as you might have if she had been anyone else. Instead it was abstract–elusive. A fleeting thought that followed you throughout the day. A thought that you were sure would dissipate over time. Molecule by molecule as her soul moved on from this world it would dissolve and you would finally be left standing in a life of your own making, no longer bent to the will of the woman who molded you to fit neatly into her own life. Her death was sad but it also finally opened you up the hope for freedom. 

When it was your turn to speak, after the mass had ended and the few other speakers had said their peace with your mother overseeing from inside her casket, you hesitated. Standing in front of the crowd of people that had managed to crawl their way through traffic for the promise of a free lunch and a voyeuristic look at the poor, bereft daughter left to deal with this whole mess. The only remaining relative of this woman that had made everyone’s life around her a living hell. You stared out at their faces, blank with waiting, and expected the words you had prepared to come out as you had rehearsed. None ever did. You stood silent under the scrutiny of a hundred eyes and seconds ticked by into minutes as the blank expressions morphed into confusion or pity. Even your husband’s carefully neutral expression devolved into one of concern as he stared up at you from his seat. 

Thunder clapped outside the church, the rain picked up speed, buffeting the stained glass windows in its fury, and you thought that maybe your mother hadn’t been lying to you when you were a child. Maybe it was her fury that was clinging to your clothing–soaking you to the bone. 

You left the altar without a word–just one apologetic glance cast over the audience of mourners–and sat back down next to your husband. Head held high against the brewing storm. You realised finally that you had nothing to say. 

For your husband’s part, he played it well at the time. His silent hand found yours and gripped it tight as you both kept your gazes focused on the priest as he tried his best to stitch the proceedings back together after the abandoned eulogy. He kept your hand in his throughout the rest of the funeral–from the end of the mass, through the reception, and all the way to the committal he was there with you. The anchor at your side. 

When had he stopped? 

When had he stopped being there–holding your hand, playing his part as your partner through it all on this grand stage of life. When had he decided he no longer wanted to be that? 

You watch a rivulet of rain carve a line through the reflection of your face, splitting you in two as you stare out through the window in your living room and into the neon darkness of the city surrounding you. Who were the heavens sad for tonight? 

For your own part, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel much sadness. Only a hollow aching at the pit of your stomach, like a hunger long ignored. Gnawing at your insides as you stare out into some unfixed point on the horizon and wait for your husband to return home. Late, again. Always late these days. Always some excuse or another. Traffic, work, friends wanting to grab drinks, errands to run. Tonight though, perhaps, the excuse would be the rain. 

With a sigh you abandon your post at the window, floating through the apartment by the dim light of the city pouring inside. No reason to turn the lights on inside–you knew your way around. The remnants of your dinner sit undisturbed on the kitchen counter, steam long since evaporated, as they wait for a mouth to enter, a stomach to fill. You had lost your appetite when you received the text message. 

You knew it was coming, had known for months. At first it was easy to trick yourself into believing that nothing had changed at all. Everything was normal. These excuses were all truths and you were in fact in the wrong for not believing your husband when he told you. After a time this denial stopped working, however, and you moved on to believing that the changes were only superficial–temporary–that the fissure that had opened up in your marriage was not a yawning pit preparing to engulf you but an easily repairable crack in the foundation. Before long he would return to you as a ship to the shore. He would pour out his feelings and you would mend them easily, with tears of your own. Your relationship would grow in strength for enduring this storm and all would be well again. 

As the days and months dragged on, though, it grew harder to ignore the signs. You had seen them so many times before–on television, in film, in friends’ relationships, in your own parents’ marriage before it fell apart when you were 9. 

A whiff of an unfamiliar perfume in the air, breezing behind your husband as he enters the apartment after work–orange blossom, ginger, patchouli and jasmine. Cloying and heady. A scent of seduction and sex in the wake of a man that hadn’t touched you in days. He waited to kiss you hello now, waited until he had changed out of his clothes, maybe until after he had a shower. You would sit, perched on the arm of the couch, and stare out the window of your living room while he scrubbed the scent of another woman off of his skin. 

More evidence collected over the next few months. Pastel purple and blue splotches dotting the nape of his neck–just above the birthmark you used to trace over with a loving fingertip in the early days of your marriage. Lipstick stains faded on the white collar of a shirt–brick red, a shade that never painted your own lips. He was getting careless–bold. And you continued to observe without a word. Maintaining the calm on the surface of your life, letting the stains and perfume to sink deep underneath. 

Maybe you should have confronted him early on, when the days were still young and you still had lingering affection for this man that was becoming a stranger to you. You should have yelled, screamed, fought, let your tears flow freely in a torrent of anger and betrayal. Every rational thought in your mind was screaming out for you to face him down and do something. You would work yourself into a fury of anger and anxiety waiting for him to come home but the second he stepped across the threshold of your apartment, all of it dissolved. Melted away into nothingness and left only that old, hollow ache until that was all you had left inside.

You remember how your mother had reacted when she found out about your dad’s affair. The consequences were swift and brutal–a storm of emotions and rage bursting out and swallowing everyone in its vicinity. If rain was sadness, surely her rage had been a tsunami. Your dad left and you retreated–into your room, into yourself. Left alone to rebuild in the wake of this natural disaster. 

When you got married your mother warned you–warned you of your duties as a wife. To keep him happy, keep him home, and remember that marriage is work. Life was so hard after your father abandoned us, she would say, don’t let the same happen to you. She would sermonize his weakness and cruelty, and you would listen. But you loved your father, in spite of all his flaws and humanity. He was kind and soft-hearted and you never blamed him for what happened, how could it all have been his fault? This one man that bought you ice cream and tanghulu and took you shopping for school uniforms up until he died? No. You blamed your mother.

What would she say to you now, sitting alone in the dark staring at a photo of your husband with his arm slung casually over the shoulders of another woman, her head resting against him with a soft smile on her face. Pathetic, spineless child. 

You shrug off the ghost of your mother and focus back on the picture. They were in a restaurant, tucked into a corner booth. The low lighting cast soft shadows over their faces, obscuring the details of their features, but there was no doubt in your mind that  it was him.  It was the same slope of brow and cheek that you have run your fingers over so many times before. The same slight upturn in the corners of the mouth that you fell in love with. The glimmer of mischief and daring that so easily drew you in when you first started dating, now turned towards someone else. A stranger? You were sure you didn’t know her but there was something familiar about her in the photo, something about her profile that tugged at the recesses of your recollection. 

Your imagination has been running frantic circles in your mind since you opened the message. Where had he met her? Work? He wasn’t a part of any clubs, didn’t play mahjong on the weekends with friends, hadn’t been selected for any work trips where he might have brushed elbows with her in a conference. Might have snuck into each other's hotel rooms, followed each other onto the plane. She could have been a stewardess–as alluring as they are professional. An untouchable creature bending to your every whim and all you can do is look and hope and wish. Slip her your number as you disembark, pray she deems you worthy enough to contact. 

But he hadn’t been out of the city in at least a year. So that couldn’t be it. 

Maybe she had a more humble occupation. She worked at the hot pot restaurant his company frequented after work. That was how you had met so is it so out of the realm of possibilities that lightning might strike twice? 

Maybe he had always known her. Maybe you were the other woman–some twist of fate had led him to marrying you instead of his highschool sweetheart. A girl that had occupied his mind for longer than you had known him. Maybe she had traveled after graduation–moved to the US and taken his heart with her while he pined away and finally, losing all hope, he settled for the strange girl with the zealot of a mother. Turned you into a project to fill his loneliness and occupy his thoughts until she returned and he was reminded of all the things that she had been for him that you never could. 

Maybe. 

Or maybe she was just a whore. 

Your thoughts flitter back and forth; all possibilities confronting you at once, neon red  in alarm. You watch taxis and motorbikes speed through traffic on the rain soaked street 15 stories below your apartment–each one weaving a new thread of anxiety in your mind as you wait for one to stop in front of your building. Wait for your husband to emerge, shielding himself from the rain and rushing to get inside before his white-collared shirt is soaked through with the sins of his flesh. 

He arrives shortly after you give up waiting and prepare for bed. The rain has begun to let up and with it he steps through the front door of your apartment while you sit perched on the edge of your bed, running a hand over the embroidered silk duvet coverlet you had received as a wedding present. You listen as he drops his keys, briefcase, coat onto the kitchen counter. Focus on the sound of his footfall as he  walks through the short hallway to the bathroom. He doesn’t see you sitting in the dark, doesn’t seek you out to greet you. You watch as he flicks the light on to the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. The sound of the shower running follows a few moments afterwards. 

You brace yourself when he enters the dark bedroom after washing himself free of the day. Body tense as he slips under the blanket beside you. The anticipation of something, anything, stiffens in your muscles and you wait for him to say something, to give you some explanation for his whereabouts. Nothing comes. He, believing you to be asleep, slips too into the arms of the night and you’re left alone–staring blankly into the dark of the room before you give into the heaviness of your eyes. 

Morning dawns, grey and overcast. You’re alone again, your husband having left for work with the tin of leftovers you had pre-packed for him, and the day stretches out in front of you–long and lonely–as you shove all thoughts of last night to the back of your mind and turn your attention to the household tasks that require it. 

The fluorescent lights of the supermarket buzz overhead as you make your way through the aisles with a basket hanging on your arm. You know what you’re getting–you’ve rotated through the same small selection of meals since you were 11 years old and started cooking for yourself–but you take your time anyway. Wandering through the rows of produce, fish, and imported goods. Enjoying the distant company of strangers, their idle chatter and routine conversations are a welcome reprieve from the oppressive silence that has dominated your apartment over the past few months. 

You drift to the fruits, letting their bright colours draw you in, and reach for a melon. It’s heavy in the hand, weighed down with the density of the flesh inside. It would be delicious–perfectly ripe, bursting with flavour and juice–you could almost salivate at the thought of slicing into it, bringing a cube of its sweetness to the tip of your tongue. You haven’t had it in ages. Your husband was not fond of fruits–he never had been. Always preferred spice and heat over sweetness, and you were more than happy to accommodate–to oblige his tastes and sacrifice your own for the sake of love. But now? 

The melon stares up at you in askance and you set it back on the stand with its brethren before you can give the temptation a second thought. As soon as you do, a hand reaches out to grab it, neatly manicured fingers wrapping around the fruit still warm from your touch. You smell her perfume before you see her face–that aroma of orange blossom, patchouli,  and jasmine (with a hint of ginger) cutting through the air of the supermarket like a knife through fruit. It’s even more overwhelming first hand. You turn your head, catching a glimpse of her face, her bright red lips, before she turns away and clacks towards the green wall of vegetables. 

You follow transfixed behind her as she weaves her way through the market, picking up an array of items as she goes. Mindlessly you fill your basket behind her, hands reaching out for whatever as you try to disguise your objective. You had only seen one blurry photo of her, clandestinely snapped with her head buried in the crook of your husband’s arm, but you would know her anywhere. In fact you did know her. Not by name, you had never been introduced, but you recognize her instantly now in the bright noonday lights of the shop. 

She lives in your building, a few floors up, you were sure of it. You had run into her in the elevator a few times, never exchanging a word, but always evaluating each other with that cold calculation of strangers destined to become rivals. Not that you knew that at the time. She had a husband. A man with kind eyes and a kind smile. You weren’t sure if it made you feel better or worse to know that you weren't alone in your suffering, that someone else was tied to the other end of this red string that entangled the four of you in its noose-tight vice. 

Does she recognize me? you wonder as you get in line a few people behind her at the register. Your eyes remain fixed on the back of her head while she pays and you tap your foot in anxious impatience as her form disappears through the doors and you’re left waiting for the elderly woman in front of you to deal out her entire coin purse to the cashier for spring onions and flour.

Finally you step out into the streets, bag of assorted groceries clutched tight in your fist, and you whip your head around to try to locate her. It doesn’t take long–she’s a flash of red in a sea of black–and you hasten your stride to catch up with her as she rounds the corner towards your apartment building, taking care to maintain a neutral expression. You trail her over the few blocks it takes to get back home, pulse quickening whenever her step halts–paralysed with the fear that she may turn around and realise what you’re doing. 

Does she  know who you are? Aa a neighbour, maybe, but as the wife of the man she’s having an affair with? Has he told her about you, have they shared jokes in confidence at your expense? Or are you some shameful secret he has kept hidden in his coat pocket. Maybe he slips his wedding band off before each meeting, spinning it around his finger thrice before tucking it out of sight, alongside his conscience. Does he know about her husband? Does her husband know about him the way you know about her? Were the same thoughts turning over in his mind as he sat at his desk at work, staring idly at their wedding photo? 

You follow her, a few paces behind, through the lobby of your shared building. Part of you–a bold, reckless part–wants to slip into the elevator with her, just before the doors can slide closed. Meet her face to face. Confront her and lay bare your knowledge of her discretion. Maybe she would cry, maybe she would yell, maybe she would laugh. Not one of the scenarios you envision ends with you triumphant, in each one your husband’s arms reach forth to comfort her and leave you standing alone, consumed with the red hot fires of rage and seething hate. 

You push that part of you away, back into the shadows, and watch as  she gets into the elevator. The numbers on the display above the doors climb higher and higher as she ascends and you hold your breath, waiting for them to halt. 22. Higher up than your own, more expensive. So it wasn’t money that had drawn her to your husband. You jam your finger against the button, calling the lift back down and wrestling between going home with this new knowledge or feeding into your curiosity and following her up to her door. Would you know the right one if you saw it? 

You press both floor numbers when you finally climb into the elevator, staring at the illuminated buttons as you slowly ascend. You stand still, staring at number 22, and wait as you move up and up–torn between the two options you’ve given to yourself. The doors finally slide open to reveal your floor, 15, and you stare out into the empty hallway, waiting for some unseen force to push you out of the lift. To make up your mind for you. Nothing does, and you just stand silent and still, frozen in time until they slide closed once more and you’re left looking blankly at your own twisted expression in the stainless steel. You keep eye contact with the twisted version of yourself reflected back at you and wait as the elevator continues its ascent. 

What were you hoping to gain from following this woman? Confirmation that she is, indeed, real? As if the brush of her arm against yours as she stretched out for your relinquished fruit hadn’t been enough to convince you. Her head bobbing through the crowds of people on the street as you kept pace behind her was just a figment of your imagination. Did you think you would find him there? Waiting for her? Eating slices of fruit from her outstretched hands in an act of worship? Your reflection purses her lips, eyebrows knit in thought, and you shake your head at her in askance, a silent plea, before the elevator finally stops at floor 22. 

The door slides open for the second time and you brace yourself to alight, but your path is blocked. 

“Oh, sorry,” he says, stepping aside to give you space to pass, “are you getting off here?” 

You freeze on the spot, standing on the threshold of a million converging thoughts as they crash through your mind. His smile is the same as you remember it, soft and kind. The smile of someone for whom life was easy, someone who hadn’t seen much strife. Or perhaps the opposite . Someone who had seen all the horrors life had to offer him and chose to remain soft despite them. You’re distantly aware that you look like a fool, standing there in the elevator with your mouth hanging slightly agape as you stare into the eyes of your husband’s mistress’ husband, but you can’t make yourself move. Paralyzed by a strange twist of fate that had, unbeknownst to him, entangled you in a web of deceit and betrayal.

Surely he didn’t know. 

“Is this your floor,” he asks again, prompting you to move or speak or do something more than just stand still as the elevator beeps its final warning. It wasn’t going to wait much longer. 

“N-no,” you stammer, trying to right your thoughts. “I was going down, actually.” In a panic you jam your finger against the button for floor 15. If he notices the obvious lie, he doesn’t say anything–instead politely skirting around you as he steps into the lift and presses the button for the ground floor.

The lift jerks as it starts to descend, and you hold your breath. Afraid that any movement might somehow reveal every thought you’re holding tight within. He keeps a polite distance, checking his phone as he stands in the opposite corner of the narrow, enclosed space. The elevator inches closer to your floor and your muscles tense in preparation to bolt through the door as soon as it slides open at floor 15. You stare up at the numbers as they transform–20, 19, 18. Eyes transfixed on the digital display as your brain whirrs with static noise. 

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?” You jerk your attention towards him as soon as he speaks, head spinning too fast to pass off your expression as casual and you’re sure that you look as panicked as you feel. “When we first moved into the building, I mean. It’s been a while but I recognize you.” 

You nod and take a second to clear your throat of the built up nerves before replying, voice trembling with a light quiver. “Yes, I uh–it’s been over a year now I think. I’m sorry but I don’t remember your name.”

He smiles–that same soft, kind smile as earlier–and shakes his head reassuringly. “It’s Joshua. Hong.” 

“Joshua?” your voice betrays a hint of curiosity–it’s not a common name here. 

“I moved here from LA years ago with my wife,” he supplies the answer to your unspoken question. Unwittingly adding a layer of intrigue to his personage that you hadn’t expected. At the mention of his wife, however, you feel the hairs on your arms rise to attention. A cold chill ripples through your body. The elevator dings, startling you out of your daze as it arrives at your floor. You turn to face the hallway as it appears between the doors, lingering astride the threshold between him and the emptiness ahead of you. Something inside of you hesitates, hanging back to remain in his presence despite the anxiety still flooding through your body. Something about the way he spoke had drawn you in, a strange curiosity taking root in your mind. You shake it loose; it’s not your place to say anything, and it’s not your place to further entangle yourself in this web. His life is his own. You take a step forward, finally clearing the door just before it beeps its insistence at you. 

You turn to say a farewell to Joshua–it wouldn’t bode well to appear impolite after he was so courteous to you a moment before–but before you can open your mouth to speak, he beats you to it. 

 “I think she and your husband know each other, actually. My wife,” he says, and you freeze again, stuck now staring at him from the hallway. He waves goodbye as the doors slide closed and you’re left standing statuesque in the hallways alone. Ears ringing with the echoes of his words. 

Does he know? 

Nothing in the way he held himself, in the casual expression gracing his handsome, well composed features would have led you to believe so but…why else would he have said that? 

You stand still, staring at the scuffed stainless steel doors of the elevator as if they might reopen and he might still be there. That he might dull the sharpness of your anxieties with some clarity . Instead you’re alone, bag of groceries cutting the circulation in your fingertips off as they hang forgotten in your hand.

You try to search the memory of his face as it lingers in your mind’s eye for any clue–any miniscule hint–as to what thought had been hiding beneath his calm facade. His face twists and contorts in your mind, swirling and transforming as you try to keep hold of the static image. Joshua, your husband, his wife, your own warped expression in the polished metal of the door. Many parts of an ever colliding whole. 

When you finally manage to get your legs moving and step away from the elevator the hallway seems to stretch out in front of you endlessly. You walk as if to the gallows, imagining all the horrors waiting for you when you open the door to your apartment. Your husband, Joshua’s wife. Limbs entangled in carnal desire. The heat of their bodies steaming the windows and fogging your vision as you stumble through the darkness. The thought overwhelms you, slows your already stuttering pace, though you know in your logical mind that no one’s there. She’s in her own apartment, and your husband is at work, and you’re alone. A state you’ve become numbly accustomed to. 

The familiar silence of your apartment is all that greets you when you finally enter, in spite of the baseless worries of your frazzled mind. It soothes the storm of worries clouding your mind as you stow away your meager haul of groceries and set out the ingredients needed for dinner. Joshua’s face fades to darkness as you slip back into routine–letting your hands take over and your mind to narrow to a single thought. 

So what if he did know. Would that change anything about your present circumstances? If he wanted a scene he had the chance to cause one and let it go. He could have held you in that elevator and interrogated you for all your husband’s many sins; pouring his hurt and betrayal out at your feet as you bear witness to your own anguish reflected in another person. But he didn’t. Instead he was polite, almost kind, and you parted without the cosmic clash the worst parts of you might have anticipated.  

The water for the noodles starts to boil and you quickly finish chopping your small array of vegetables before turning the heat down to simmer and tossing them in. Leftover shrimp lay on the side of your cutting board, ready to add in at the end. It was a lazy meal–one you never would have made early on in your marriage–but who cared about that now? You knew it would be the same routine tonight. Eating without tasting, alone in the kitchen, lit only by the light filtering in through the windows, while you stare at the clock on the wall. He’ll show up after you’re finished–maybe 15 minutes later, maybe an hour–and eat the portion set aside for him while you disappear into the bedroom and will the day to come to an end. 

Would Joshua’s night end the same or were he and his wife better at maintaining the charade of marriage? Were their hearts as distant when they lay in bed next to each other, barely touching? 

You had a hard time imagining it. You try, between mouthfuls of noodles and broth, to capture the image of them. Joshua sidestepping his wife in the kitchen, carefully avoiding her touch–her skin stained by the kiss of another man. Was his smile as soft and kind when turned upon the face of the woman who, with every breath she took, dared to remind him of the sadness that lurked beneath the surface of their life? Was the love he still held for her enough to erode all of her transgressions, even as she continued to transgress? Did he still hold her in his arms at night like no one else had ever touched her? Like he was the only one for her? Why, if he could so easily absolve her of her crimes, could you not do the same for the man you had promised yourself to? 

You shake your head, ridding yourself of the scene that was playing out. You knew nothing about this man–about his life or his thoughts. This scene you had conjured up, fleshed out with his feelings and emotions, was just a projection of some possible life dwelling within you.

But still, you couldn’t help but wonder. How different would things be if you tried?

The night drags on as all the previous ones have. You sit in front of the window, letting the TV drone on in the background, and stare down at the street below. Watching as people come and go–each with their own thoughts, their own lives, their own worries and desires. None more or less important than your own. It was comforting, in some odd way, to imagine the lives and futures of others. It took the distinct sting out of imagining our own. 

The front door opens, earlier than expected, and you glance over your shoulder to see him enter. He nods in greeting and you return the gesture before acting on an impulse you haven’t followed through on in months. You move towards him. You don’t even realise you’re doing it until his form comes into focus only a few feet in front of you. He doesn’t notice you right away, too busy reheating the noodles; you wait and you watch as he moves through the task with a slight droop to his shoulders. He’s tired. 

“How was work today?” you ask. The question spills unbidden from your mouth but you don’t rush to stop it. 

“Long,” he sighs, stirring the food as it begins to steam in the pot. There’s no hint of surprise or shock in his voice at your sudden interest in his day. He accepts it–whether from sheer exhaustion or ignorance of the deafening silence that has defined your life for the past few months. Maybe he never noticed how distant you were. How could he when he still held someone so close? “How was your day?”

“Fine,” you reply, intending to leave it at that before a thought flashes through your mind. “I ran into one of our neighbours earlier, in the elevator. Joshua Hong. We met them once or twice when he and his wife moved in just over a year ago, do you remember them?” 

“I can’t say that I do,” he shakes his head, flicking the heat off on the stove. His back is still turned, so you focus on his tone, on the micromovements of his muscles under his shirt. Searching for anything other than the polite disinterest he was feigning. Anything that might betray some feeling brewing below the surface. Fear, love, guilt. Anything at all. 

“Hmm, yeah I couldn’t remember him well either at first,” you agree, pausing to allow him the space to settle in, to pour his dinner into a bowl and sit down at the counter. He leans forward, blowing the steam away as he prepares to take a bite. “He mentioned you though,” you say finally, watching his face as he glances up at you with his chopsticks suspended above his bowl. “He mentioned you know his wife.” 

Silence. One brief, fleeting moment of hesitation. A slight lift of the eyebrow. You watch his Adam’s apple bob at the base of his throat, just above the knot of his tie. 

“That’s odd,” he replies, voice carefully neutral, he drops his gaze from yours and brings his chopsticks the rest of the way to his mouth to slurp up the hanging noodles. You stay silent, watching–waiting–as he finishes his bite before he continues. “He must be mistaken.” 

“Must be,” you nod, trailing a finger lazily over the countertop. You don’t say anything else. You don’t need to. You let the silence settle in between you–an observer of its own, interrogating him with the absence of speech. You’ve had months to become accustomed to it, to make friends of the stillness of the air in your apartment, but you can see as your husband carefully avoids your lingering gaze that he hasn’t. He’s been too preoccupied to even notice it as it slowly moved in, taking over his place at your side. 

After a few moments you shrug, straightening your posture and smoothing down the front of your dress–releasing him of the heaviness of your gaze. The atmosphere settles back into one of easy stalemate and your husband resumes eating in silence. Nothing more is said. You slip back into blue.

 You never wanted a traditional wedding. 

With your father long buried and your mother under the spell of religious fervor, you never saw any appeal in the tradition or ceremony. You felt estranged from your scattered family–disconnected from the broader world. You floated in blissful independence, living life on your own terms and only reigning it in to pay fealty to your mother when required. Then you met him. 

He was handsome–dark hair and dark airs and expertly sculpted features. The sort of handsome that was easy to overlook at first but unraveled more and more as soon as you tugged at a loose thread of it. You looked at him across the lecture hall and took your time, dissecting his profile as the lectern’s voice melted out into the distance. It didn’t take long for your introduction to follow these looks. College is like that. Friends of friends of friends, dorm rooms, study hangouts in the library. Before you could even notice, your blissful independence had given way to comfortable partnership. 

After college, still in the early days of your courtship, you had grand ideas of elopement. The last lingering strands of your individuality. Traveling to a foreign country, marrying on a beach under the stars, and not telling your families until you either came back or decided you were going to live out your wedded bliss and future marriage in the streets of Rio de Janeiro or Sydney. 

He would entertain these fantasies–feeding into them, one morsel at a time, filling you with the hope of your aligned future. Filling you to the point that when the proposal inevitably came you couldn’t see the hunger still gnawing inside of you. 

Your husband was a good son, and his family paid for the wedding. It took little effort for you to resign yourself to ceremony and cast aside your dreams for love. The story of every fool in the world. 

That should have been the moment you knew that this would not last. Or at least that the happiness and contentment that shrouded your relationship was just that–mere illusory material. If you could turn back time, redo the last years of your life, you would have taken your meager inheritance from your father and booked a one way flight to the US. Used what little connections you had from distant family to build a life and chase your dreams. Live for yourself instead of the external expectations that you had been raised to abide by. You could have sent your mother back what little extra income you had–supported her from a distance as she ruined her own life where you did not have to bear witness. 

Instead, like the perfect picture of a good daughter, you went along with your husband and his family’s wishes. You let them arrange the entire thing and you–a mere passenger in your own life–silently went through the motions. Assured by word and by every soft kiss that all your dreams would be realised once it was all over. Your hands would reach the farthest destinations of your imagination, your feet would touch the sands of your desire. You let yourself be carried forward into this future with a smile, unaware that the only sand your feet would see would be the foundations of your own life as it crumbled and fell around you. 

You could only blame yourself. Even your mother tried to warn you, in her own way. Her own misery bearing down on your throughout your life–her inevitable cracking under the weight of everyone else's dreams bearing down on her until she simply couldn’t take it anymore. If you had been smart you would have seen it for what it was when you were 12. 

But you didn’t. You continued to simply go with it, smile waning as the years began to drag on and none of those golden promises spoken to you at night ever materialised. Business was good, now was not the time to take a break away it would only spell financial ruin for yourself and your entire family. Fine, you could wait. Were happy to wait, in fact. Dutiful and loyal and ever patient as you filled your days with the duties you had accepted in spite of yourself. Homemaking, cleaning, cooking. You had longed to work yourself, use your degree for something other than simply occupying space on your wall, then in a drawer–but no, your obligation was to the home, to your husband. Business was good. It was the right time to start trying for children. Did you want children? Did it matter? 

The flames of passion burned bright in your union early on. Your skin was on fire in the moonlight, bathed in sweat and dappled by the heated kisses of your new husband. Your body felt like a temple of worship, and he was there to pay his respects. He was the first man you had ever been with and you felt like you had won the jackpot each night as he brought you to new heights with his devotion. 

Maybe it’s true what people say about newlyweds. That passion is fleeting. The newness and excitement of having each other at the tips of your fingers would inevitably dull down until even sex simply became a part of your daily routine. A task to be completed, to stave off the questions of family and friends speculating on the growth of your family. Yours wasn’t meant to grow, though, it seemed. No matter how often you came together in pursuit of it, your monthly courses came as consistent as the full moon. Month after month until you stopped trying.

But there was love there, in the beginning. You think about it still, lying silent in the vast wilderness of your marital bed next to your sleeping husband. When you think to yourself  ‘how could I have let this happen’ your mind drifts back to those moments–wrapped up tightly in his embrace as he peppered your face, neck, shoulders, with kisses and promised you the world. How could you have known that it was built on such faulty foundations? That it would all drift away over time? 

You run a slow finger over your thigh, tracing the paths that he would take each night before. Remembering the love that you had shared. Wondering if the woman he shares it with now feels it as deeply as you had. Did he think of you when he was with her or had she eclipsed you completely in his memory? Was her back the only one that arched as he was deep inside her, spilling his love into her? 

The thought digs its barbed wires into your chest–ripping and tearing at what little tenderness you still held for the man. You let the pain sing you to sleep–weeping and burning for what once was and what might never be again as you let the darkness consume you in the dim blue of your bedroom. 

Dawn comes, as it always does, sunlight taking the place of the filtered neon of the city–streaming its way into your windows and nudging you awake long after your husband left for work. You’re alone again, and the thoughts don’t cease for the daytime. 

The flickering bulbs of the supermarket welcome you as you hunt around for a decent bunch of spring onions for dinner. Your hands find them and you add them to your basket, moving on to the next item on your list while your mind is half-occupied by the thought of the woman from yesterday. 

You wonder if she’ll make an appearance again. Standing behind you in line, perhaps, or waiting for you in the cold section–eyes scanning tanks of crabs for the perfect one. You wonder if she’ll be wearing red again. The contrast of the colour against her milky white skin as it hugs her body just so, conveying the image of someone with the world at her fingertips. 

Your own dress–emerald green, accented with black florals–suited you well enough. It was clean, well made, and fit you well even after all these years of wear, but it was just that. A dress. Function over form. It was the dress of someone who didn’t want to stand out, who wanted to blend into her surroundings and remain unnoticed as she moved throughout her day. It was the green in the shade of the bright red orchard as it shimmered in the sun.

As if summoned, a flash of red lights up your periphery–calling your attention away from the pear you had been inspecting. You lift your gaze to see her, a few stands down from you, a beacon of red just as you had envisioned her. You blink a few times to solidify her existence–not entirely convinced that you hadn’t just conjured her up out of smoke and mirrors. She remains, gathering a small selection of tomatoes before striding out of the produce section. 

The shock of her appearance from yesterday has long since faded. You’ve had time to reckon with the weight of her existence in your proximity. What was once a desperate, aching curiosity has since dulled to a cold, calculated interest. Instead of abandoning your grocery haul you stick to your list–taking the time to pick out the right ingredients–and achieve your own goals all while keeping her in your sights. You time your actions to match hers, moving on as she adds items to her basket, lingering by the teas as she stalls at the opposite end of the aisle from you. You make your way to the till, trailing her casually, and choose the cashier adjacent to her so you can pay at the same time. 

You leave the market assured with the knowledge of your mutual destination. No need to hurry, no need to chase, no need to match her pace. You let yourself fall into easy step a few feet behind her–content with enjoying the temperate weather that the day has brought. She arrives at the apartment a minute before you but you meet her in the lobby, standing silent beside her as you both wait for the elevator to descend. 

The anxieties of your trip yesterday melt away as you evaluate her through the steel mirror of the door–letting your gaze drift over her distorted figure. How long until she starts to notice your presence as more than mere coincidence? Would you be able to maintain this routine–living alongside her and watching from the peripherals as she goes about her daily tasks without so much as a second thought? 

As if in answer her eyes meet yours in the reflection. You politely avert your gaze, unwilling to be bested in this dance before it had even begun. Whether she was aware of who you are or not, you didn’t need to relinquish the satisfaction of knowing to her. 

The doors open at your floor and you alight into the hallway, leaving her to ascend the rest of the way to her own apartment where she would maintain her own charade. Your heart lurches at the thought, an odd disruption to the calm satisfaction you had been feeling up until now. You remember Joshua’s face from yesterday–the soft curve of his lips as he spoke to you. Polite, kind. You could blame yourself easily for your own husband’s infidelity but what had Joshua done to deserve this? 

Was he plagued with the same self loathing thoughts that haunted your every step? Or was his kindness, too, an illusion? Hiding some deeper malice that lurked at the heart of everyone wrapped up in this love affair.

You shake your head free of him as you enter your apartment and set your groceries down on your kitchen counter, but he returns as swiftly as he leaves. A thought circling round and round–unable or unwilling to give you a moment's peace as you unpack your bags. 

Somewhere in life you had adopted this sense of pessimism about life and the people that walked through it. It was easy to imagine cruelty at the hearts of everyone–to picture the worst case scenario, the worst intentions. But something inside of you revolted as you tried to apply it to Joshua. 

How silly, you think. I don’t even know him. 

And yet it remains, this tiny revolution inside of you. A hope for a kinder heart amidst the sea of troubles that you had been cast adrift on. Some lifeboat in the blue-black of it all. If you just reached out, maybe you could save yourself from drowning. 

Foolish, you think, casting the thought aside. No one is coming to save you. Not from your misery, not from your life, not from yourself. You had gotten married under the guise that your life would forever be tied to another person–that you would carry each other through everything–and now that that has dissolved to nothing, you know. You are alone. You have always been alone. 

The fog of winter rolls in shortly, blanketing the city in gray. For a few weeks in the beginning of December, your husband’s mistress disappears. He comes home on time, eats dinner with you, and you spend your days together like any married couple might. You’re lulled into a false sense of security and for a moment you think you could simply float back into the life you had expected to have and forget everything that has been. But only for a moment. Before long she reappears, her hair cropped shorter and  a spring in her step as she bounds through the aisles of the market. Your temporary marital utopia dissolves into the mist and you resume your post as observer. 

The weather starts to warm again, sunlight finding its way through cloud and smog to dapple the sides of buildings, and you take up a nightly ritual of walking through the streets in your neighbourhood. You never stay out too late, or stray too far, but you were starting to feel like a caged animal as you paced through your home and your thoughts night after night. 

On the nights your husband stayed out–either still at work or somewhere with her–you would forgo cooking all together, instead heading to a nearby restaurant as the sun starts to set over the city skyline. You eat slowly, relishing in each flavour and texture, and watch the rest of the patrons as they would do the same. It makes you feel less alone–or at least, less alone in your loneliness–as you would sit and watch the strangers around you bury their own miseries in the warmth of the broth steamed over countless hours. Their minds filled with thoughts and worries of their own. 

Tonight is much the same. You linger at home, straightening cushions and wiping down already clean surfaces to keep your hands occupied while you watch the clock tick down the time. Your phone lights up with a message–your husband informing you that he will be home late, telling you not to wait up. You slip on a light jacket and head out the door. Your feet know the way by now, they carry you almost mindlessly forward–down the elevator, out through the lobby, down the street, two left turns, one right turn, a few blocks ahead. You pass by some familiar faces–vendors and other denizens of the evening that you’ve become accustomed to during your walks–and you acknowledge them as a friend in your mind. Kindred spirits. 

You enter the small restaurant, blinking away the temporary fluorescent lights induced blindness, and take up your usual seat in the corner. Time ceases to exist in this place. If it weren’t for the last vestiges of sunlight forcing their way through the small, foggy window at the front, you wouldn’t be able to tell if it was day or night. 

Over the month or so you’ve started becoming a regular fixture of the place, you’ve grown familiar with a number of the other restaurant denizens. The cook and his wife–presumably the owners of the establishment–are ever silent unless yelling instructions about orders back and forth at each other. The wife, a small woman of indeterminate age, would move with efficiency between the five tables dotting the small space–taking orders, handing them to her husband in the kitchen, taking payments, refilling tea. She never appeared to be rushing, and no one was ever left for too long waiting for anything.

Occasionally a young man would take her place–likely their son or another relation roped in to help with the family business for a night. He was young–university aged maybe–and clearly disinterested in spending what little free time he had serving customers and bussing tables. The disinterest showed plain on his face even as he scribbled down your order (the usual, hot and sour soup and tea) and delivered it to his father in the kitchen. 

Tonight it was the woman, she didn’t even bother to ask you what you wanted as you had ordered the same thing every night over the past week. After a few moments she walks over with a teapot and cup in hand, setting them down with a silent nod, before turning to greet the next customer as they enter through the front door. 

You take a sip of tea, not too hot, before leaning back in the chair to settle in for another evening of people watching. The window in the front of the restaurant is clouded slightly with steam built up from the inside, and a light dusting of grime from the outside, but your eyes have adjusted to the distortion over the past month. You sit and watch as people pass by on the street outside, a few salarymen will stop in throughout for silent meals alone before returning to the streets, but often you’re the sole patron during the few hours you spend there each night. 

You watch as the new patron takes a seat at the table nearest the entrance–you haven’t seen him here before, but he looks the same as the rest. The same white button down, creased with a long day's work; the same black trousers; the same black tie and blazer thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. They were a dime a dozen in the city, these salarymen. Your husband had been one of them, once upon a time. Even with his many promotions over the years he still dressed much the same. You wonder briefly what made him stand out from the crowd to his mistress. 

The woman returns to your table a few minutes later, bearing your soup in her work worn hands. Steam billows from the top and you thank her before straightening in your seat and picking up your spoon. 

The food is not remarkable–truly nothing about this place is. Much like the salarymen that dip in and out through its front door, it’s no different than any of the other random hole-in-the-wall establishments that populate this city. The menu varies little from the usual, and the dingy white tiled walls do little to visually differentiate it. Everything about the place appears to be almost designed to blend into its surroundings. To serve its purpose without disturbing the status quo. It was solid and reliable and it's this very reliability that keeps drawing you back. 

It could be any restaurant. You could be any woman. 

You sink into the anonymity, slowly savouring the warm comfort of your food, and watch the slightly obscured figures of people as they pass by outside under the darkening sky. The man at the table by the door finishes his food quickly–in all of 15 minutes he orders, eats, and pays–with the chiming of the front door you’re left alone again as the only customer inside and the wife returns to rifling through a stack of papers spread out across the small table next to the kitchen. 

An hour passes as you sit in your chair, draining your soup and sitting silently as the scene repeats itself twice over. You glance at the clock on the wall, nearly 8:00pm, then down at your phone screen. No messages, no notifications. The light of the evening sun has all but disappeared by now, only a faint yellow clinging still to the corners of blue that construct the city at night. You push your bowl to the side and sigh–both ready and not ready to head back out into the street and begin your short walk home. As has become the routine, the woman sets her papers aside and presses a few buttons on the old till. You linger a moment longer at the table, watching a pair of women stroll by outside, before getting up and pulling out your wallet. No word is exchanged as you set down a few paper bills on the counter in front of her. 

The night air still bites with the remnants of the winter air and you tug your jacket tighter around to your chest as you step onto the sidewalk. It’s a quieter part of your neighbourhood, but still the streets are abuzz with people even aa the sky deepens with the threat of twilight. You fall in line behind a trio of women, walking a few paces behind them and letting your mind focus in on their conversation as they talk and laugh with each other.

Their conversation is nothing interesting–daily gossip about people you know nothing about, feel nothing for–but it reminds you of when you would wander around at night with your friends in University. Aimless and carefree, talking about nothing and everything that came to mind. When was the last time you had seen any of them? Not for months, surely. Maybe you should reach out.  

The women make a left turn a few blocks later, disappearing in the opposite direction that you’re headed and you let your thoughts drift off as their voices do. Would your husband be home already? Would he be upset with the lack of prepared dinner? He hasn’t mentioned anything about it up until now, but you do wonder how long that might last. You know you should summon up some excuse for why you’ve taken up these walks, why you’re sometimes not home when he gets back, but you can’t bring yourself to care enough to lie. What does it matter anyway? 

You round the final corner towards home. The building looms ahead at the end of the street, lobby lights casting yellow highlights onto the pavement out front. 

“Mrs. _____.” You don’t hear the voice at first. Your attention is far away, lurking in the recesses of your thoughts, and it takes a minute and a repeated call for you to register that acknowledgement. With a quizzical look, you turn towards the source of the voice and see Joshua Hong striding towards you from the opposite side of the street, pace quick to avoid an encroaching motorbike. 

“Mr. Hong?” you ask, wavering with confusion. Still unsure if he’s a real person or a spectre come to warn you of some impending doom awaiting you as you approach your apartment. 

“I thought that might be you,” he smiles, coming to a stop under a streetlight a few feet away. “How are you?” 

You blink him into reality, righting your attention back to alertness after it’s time away. He’s sporting a cream coloured corduroy jacket over a plain white t-shirt. Blue jeans. He looks the same as the last time you met him in the elevator–the same dark brown hair carving waves over his forehead, the same easy smile. You return the smile, sense reasserting itself enough for you to remember your manners. “I'm well, thank you. How are you?”

“Also well,” he replies, gesturing for the pair of you to resume walking towards your shared building. “We were away for a while, my wife and I. Visiting my family in LA.” 

You know this–the kiss of sun on her skin and your previous knowledge of Joshua was enough to clue you into where they had disappeared to those few months ago. Though you weren’t about to tell him this. “Ah, that sounds lovely. How long have you been back?” Polite conversation demands the question, though the answer to it is already blaring red in your mind. 

“About two months ago or so,” he replies. “It was a nice  trip, thank you.” You arrive at the entrance to the apartment complex, Joshua reaches for the door before you have the chance and you nod a thank you as he holds it open for you. “Have you ever been?” 

“To LA?” you ask, though the question is rhetorical and serves mainly to fill the empty spaces in between. He nods, affirming. “No, I haven’t.” You fall into step beside him, low heels clacking across the well worn black and white tiles of the lobby floor. You think to leave your answer succinct but reconsider it as you approach the elevator for fear of the silence that might ensue if you do. “Though, I did once have a dream to move there and become an actress,” you laugh. 

“Oh?” He looks surprised at the sudden confession and you worry you might have said too much about yourself. “Why didn’t you?” 

No one had ever asked you that before. It’s your turn to be taken off guard now as you step up to the dual elevators. Joshua presses the ‘up’ button and you consider how to reply. 

Why didn’t you? 

“I–well,” you start, fumbling through your thoughts. “It wasn’t a very serious dream, and it wasn’t like anything would have come of it. My mother preferred that I stay here and do something more practical.” 

He nods, thoughtful, appearing to seriously consider your response as you watch the numbers descend on the display above the right side elevator. “That’s understandable,” he says after a minute, “I think most parents just want security for their kids. Acting isn’t the most stable or assured career.” 

The elevator arrives, its buffed stainless steel doors sliding open to grant you access to the lift. Joshua gestures for you to step in first, so you do, lighting up the button for your floor as he steps in behind you. 

“Which floor?” you ask. Another question you know the answer to but he humours you anyway and you press the button for him as well. 

Silence steps into the elevator with you just as the doors shut. You realise you’re twisting your fingers together in front of you–a nervous habit you thought you had gotten rid of years ago–and you shake them lightly before dropping your arms back to your sides. 

“What about your father?” Joshua breaks the silence after a moment and again you take a second to register his question, too focused on the audible sound of your breathing. 

“I’m sorry?” You glance at him, not trusting that you had heard him correctly. 

“Your father,” he repeats, soft smile still lightly dusted over his lips. “What did he think of this acting dream of yours?”

“Oh, I don’t–” you pause, clearing your throat. Truthfully, you had never even told your mother about it, you just knew what she would have said if you had. “I’m not sure, he passed away when I was 14.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, expression sombering. 

You revert to silent passengers as the lift continues to rise towards your floor. A part of you aches to say something, to break the silence again and continue polite conversation. Something about his demeanour was easy–easy to talk to, easy to be with. But you flounder for questions, comments, topics to mention. The weight of your partner’s affair presses at the front of your mind and you wonder how long you’ll be able to keep it at bay before it spills free from behind the dam of your resolve. 

“What were you doing?” he asks suddenly. Breaking the silence just as you think you might not be able to withstand it any longer. The question confuses you and it must show on your face because he clarifies, “when I ran into you outside. It was getting pretty late.” 

“Oh, right of course,” you say, “I was just out for a walk.”

He nods, understanding. “I was as well. Do you walk often?” 

“Most nights, these days,” you reply. 

“Does your husband not mind?” 

You want to laugh. “He’s not home often, these days,” you answer after a moment, casting your gaze to the floor. Dancing around the implications as the weight presses heavier in your mind. “Your wife?” you ask, flirting with the edges of truth unspoken nestled between you. 

“She’s similarly occupied,” he responds, voice softening. You meet his gaze in the reflection of the doors. A spark of understanding reverberates through you and you wonder if he feels it as well. Swelling like a bloom of light bursting in your chest. He holds your gaze steady, unwavering but silent. He knows. He must. 

The elevator dings, warning you of your arrival, and you clear your throat, tearing your eyes off his and smothering the warmth that had blossomed in your heart. “Thank you,” you say, unsure exactly what you felt compelled to thank him for but giving sound to the sentiment anyway. “For um, the chat. It was nice to see you.” 

“You as well,” he smiles as the doors slide open to let you out. You nod and step into the hallway, torn between the eagerness to be alone once more and a strange resistance at departing from his company so soon. The doors begin to slide closed behind you but you hear him call your name once and spin to see his hand blocking their attempt. “Maybe we’ll see each other again soon, on one of our walks.” 

You nod again and watch as he lets his hand fall, body swallowed back into the elevator as the doors shut and it continues its climb upwards. You stand for a minute, stock still in the hallway once more staring at the space where he was. 

It's amazing how little time it takes for your whole world to shift. It’s a fact you’ve been presented with again and again throughout life–the deaths of your parents, accepting your husband's proposal all those years ago, the photo of him sent to you by an old friend with his arms around another woman. Mere seconds of time that seemed to move entire planets–rearranging your life without your consent at a subatomic level. 

Standing in the hallway now, with the sound of Joshua’s voice lingering in your mind, you get the uncanny feeling that you’ve just lived through another of these moments. You turn away from the elevator and walk the final steps to your apartment accompanied with this knowledge, and the hope that his final statement proves true. 

© 2024, neoneun-au. all rights reserved.

please consider reblogging, i would love to know your thoughts on the story so far !

spoilers undercut

Another chapter with everything amazing to ponder about. First of all, I love how the chapter has followed an intense theme all throughout. Minghao saying “She said she wanted to stay,” “You have to learn to respect a woman’s wishes.”  made me so giddy for no reason at all & i wonder if Jisoo's “Minghao, do you really think I’d let you hurt a female Demon?” means something more than just respecting a woman; is there a scarcity of female demons? or if she's a rare one.

Finally some insight on father heo whereabouts, he chose to leave the crown? i wonder how much truth is behind that statement. I personally stand on Jisoo's & doc. namekawa's side of the argument of stopping the use of serum. Seungcheol & Jihoon's characters have been a little annoying this chapter (which only tells how great of a writer you're to be able to manifest those specific emotions from the reader) considering they are the brains of hwarang, how to do they fail to realise the cons of the reasearch they are trying to do even after seeing all the gore and jisoo's very clear warning (as it was pretty obvious he knew much more about it than csc & ljh). However, I do understand it is for the sake of plot and it adds to the story A LOT skskks. I wish later, jisoo & protagonist get more time to talk about this demon thingy.

Also, who was that female in the street who supposedly knew seungkwan and looked alot like the protagonist. As usual I've many questions waiting to be answered in the next chapter & you never fail to surprise me with your beautiful writing!! 🤍

𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔩𝔧𝔥 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦

pairing: lee jihoon x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan, xu minghao, hong jisoo warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical innacuarcies for the sake of plot progression word count: 16.6k summary: riding the highs and lows coming from the crown ordered raids and sieges, the hwarang find themselves in deeper trouble when mysterious figures begin emerging and demanding something strange- you.

taglist: @hipsdofangirl

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦𝔦

𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 6𝔱𝔥, 662 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The new year sweeps in not unexpectedly, but with a gust of cold that chills you to your core. Seorabeol sits under a blanket of snow, much like it had when you first arrived a little over a year ago now.  

You finish eating breakfast with the captains a little earlier than they do, you excuse yourself to make them some tea before their morning briefing. Thankfully, the halls remain warm, so you don’t need to worry about the winter chill as you make your way back to the main hall, the smattering of captains sitting around.  

“Thank you,” Eunseok says as you set down a cup for him, a smile on his lips as he wraps his cold fingers around the steaming cup. You make your way around the hall to give the captains their drinks, most giving you a curt but appreciative nod as you do so.

“The monks at this temple have been nice enough to let us stay here this long,” Jihoon calls out, disrupting your thoughts as he speaks to the captains, “but Shoshin is getting crowded.” 

“Especially with all of the new guys coming in,” Mingyu agrees, nodding his head. 

“If we could get a bigger space, that’d be good,” Junhui adds, a tinge to his voice as if he’s thinking about how little room there is to move around these days. “Even in the overflow buildings it’s stuffy.” 

“Most of these kids are nobles too, not accustomed to living like this,” Mingyu sighs, not vouching for them, just knowing it would take some time to acquaint themselves with their newfound home. 

“If we can find somewhere bigger to host us,” Seungkwan says, “I’m sure the newbies would be more appreciative.” 

“What about Bulguksa Temple?” The man sitting next to Youngmin speaks up, glancing over to the map hanging in the front of the room.  

“Bulguksa?” Suh Kangjoon frowns, looking towards the map, “Isn’t that a bit far?” 

“Maybe,” the man shrugs, “But it’s one of the only places big enough to accommodate the Seorabeol Hwarang. And its position would allow a tactical advantage in times of panic, it’s a relatively easy place to fortify.” 

After he’s done speaking, the man leans back in his chair to see what the others have to say. Kim Gongmyung had joined the Hwarang on Soonyoung’s excursion to Hanseong in early autumn of last year. His family’s school is quite popular there and his academics gained him notoriety with the nobles of the area. “Besides, it’s closer to the border so if there’s a need to intercept or fend off any Baekje loyalists looking for trouble, it’d put us in the best spot to do so.” 

“Those are good points,” Youngmin nods enthusiastically, “An exceptional amount of detail as always, Gongmyung.” 

Even if the chief thought it to be a good idea, a few voices rose in opposition. 

“Isn’t it a bit… presumptive to do something like that?” Seungcheol frowns at Gongmyung, his hands atop the table, fingers tapping along the wooden grains.  

Gongmyung’s smile flickers as he turns to the colonel, “Then would it be better to be negligent of the possibility, the high possibility, that the loyalists are up to something again?” His question leaves little room for the colonel to answer before he begins speaking again, “It’s a lovely thought, thinking that we’re safe now, but we all know it’s not true.” His deflection of Seungcheol’s statement leaves a bitter taste in everyone’s mouths. 

“I agree that the loyalists need to be stopped, but to place our personal interest there instead of being directed to do so by the Crown or the council is…” Seungcheol trails off, clearly thinking more inwardly than he was expressing outwardly. 

“So, then, what should we do?” Another voice piques up, questioning Seungcheol. “Wait until the bastards are knocking at our door to actually do something about it? Or maybe wait until they’ve actually captured Munmu and have burned the palace to the gro-” 

“Dongyoung,” Gongmyung interjects, “Watch your mouth.” 

“My mistake,” Dongyoung scoffs after a moment of staring at his brother for interrupting him, “Couldn’t stop myself.” 

Kim Dongyoung is the younger brother of Kim Gongmyung by blood, and only by the same father. Dongyoung had joined the Hwarang with Gongmyung in autumn and had accompanied him to Seorabeol. 

“He has the tendency to run his mouth like a child still,” Gongmyung explains, “I apologize.” His attention then turns back to Seungcheol and away from his brother, “So, don’t take it too personally, please. I’m sure someone like you is needed to make the Hwarang successful. Even if your arm is unusable in a fight, your smarts and tactical abilities will prove all the more useful.” 

You see Seungcheol biting back a retort towards Gongmyung’s sour wording, the tension between the two only cut by another voice.  

“I don’t think I heard you correctly, Gongmyung.” It’s Jihoon, his voice low as if he’s trying to stabilize the tone so as to not sound angry. “Seungcheol is smart, as you said. He is not useless and not replaceable, make sure you don’t forget that.” The commander only speaks when there’s something important to be said, having spoken up now means that Gongmyung’s words must’ve gotten to him.  

“My arm, though…” Seungcheol mutters out, seemingly unable to finish the thought. Jihoon’s words remind him of what he once was, causing him to frown at the reality of it all. 

“I didn’t mean to cause such a disturbance,” Gongmyung sighs out with false sympathy, “I’ll be sure to keep my thoughts to myself next time. Seungcheol is quite a beloved member, I see, it’s nice to see such a tight knit group. I can only hope the new members share that sentiment.” 

Jihoon’s eyes seethe with anger as he glares at Gongmyung, but before he’s able to snip back, Youngmin steps in and tries to calm the air. 

“For now,” He begins, looking at each member of the opposing parties, “Let’s just keep matters on finding a new headquarter location. Gongmyung, would you mind coming with me? I’d love to continue our earlier conversation.” 

“Of course, Chief.” Gongmyung says and rises to his feet at the same time Youngmin does, the two begin to leave the room, quickly followed out by Kangjoon. 

“May I join you as well?” The latter asks before the two step out of the hall. 

“Of course,” Youngmin accepts, “I’d like you to hear what Gongmyung has to say, it may help you with strategy points.” 

“Thank you,” Kangjoon says with an appreciative smile as the three exit, shortly followed by Dongyoung who scoffs at the encounter before slinking out after them. 

“Who’s the asshole that invited them to join us?” Seungkwan frowns once the sound of their footsteps falls out of earshot. 

“That asshole’s still in Hanseong,” Junhui huffs, “When Soonyoung gets back I might just wring his neck.”

“The Kim’s father is friends with a few pro-military councilmen,” Mingyu muses, “Interesting to see that they’d join us if they share those same beliefs.” 

“They’re probably playing some sort of superiority game,” Jihoon says, his arms crossing over his chest. “Just listen to the bullshit that Dongyoung spouts off, and it looks like it’s rubbing off on Youngmin. And that’s definitely not good.”

“Youngmin’s always been like that,” Seungkwan adds, “Easily deceived by those who act nice and appear virtuous but are just vipers waiting for the right time to strike.”

“And Gongmyung’s the deputy commander with Dongyoung in a captain’s position,” Mingyu shakes his head, “They’ve rooted themselves deep.” 

Jihoon’s gaze travels to Seungcheol, who’s been staring at the patterns in the wood since his conversation with Gongmyung. “Don’t listen to him,” the commander says to him in hopes of cheering him up.  

“Gongmyung is a skilled orator with a proficient education to back it,” Seungcheol laughs dryly, “And not only that, but he’s also skilled with a sword and bow. With a gifted Deputy Commander, the Hwarang have little need for a colonel now.”

“Seungcheol-” Jihoon begins to protest as the colonel rises to his feet and starts to head for the exit. The commander’s voice trails after Seungcheol as he leaves quietly, no one daring to stop him. 

“Of all people…” Mingyu sighs out, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair, “Even the wang-do are avoiding him now.” 

“Why?” You question and turn to the captain, “It’s not like he’s done anything wrong.”

“It’s his attitude,” Junhui responds in the elder’s stead, “It doesn't matter what you say to him, he takes it the wrong way regardless.” 

“Not to mention the smartass tone he’s been taking up,” a twisted frown settles onto Mingyu’s face, “it’s no wonder the men are scared shitless of him.” 

Their words confuse you, even though you haven’t been here as long as the other captains, Seungcheol was well liked among everyone in the Hwarang. After he’d received his injury, it seems as if that demeanor has taken a turn for the worse.  

“Can’t you come up with an excuse to get Gongmyung the hell out of here?” Seungkwan asks, turning towards Jihoon. “There’s barely been a moment of civility since he got here.” 

“You know I can’t do that,” Jihoon’s expression turns sour, “Youngmin’s all over the guy. Besides, he brought in a bunch of warriors from Hanseong, their allegiance doesn’t solely lie with us yet. They’ll pack up and leave the second we tell him to get lost.” 

“Fuck him though!” Seungkwan does little to quell the irateness of his voice, “You’re the goddamn demon commander, make the impossible happen!” 

Jihoon barks out a snarkish laugh, “Fine, Boo. How about I make you commander so you can kick Gongmyung and his thugs out?” 

“Hell no,” Seungkwan snickers, “That’s too much work.”

It eventually comes to fruition that Gongmyung isn’t to be trusted, having no other captains speak out on his behalf.  

You’re going around once more to distribute tea to the men when you stop by Hansol, who’d been quiet for most of, if not all, of the prior conversation. He looks up at you, as if he had felt your thoughts wander over to him.  

“What are your thoughts on Gongmyung joining?” You ask as he sets down his teacup onto the tabletop.  

Hansol sighs as you begin topping off the cup, “As any group begins to grow in numbers, it’ll have more and more people with differing opinions.” You pull the pot away from his cup, staunching the flow of the liquid, “Although, if one intends to be the catalyst for change instead of it occurring naturally, the group will begin to kill itself from the inside out.” His words hang heavy as you stand next to him, unsure of what to say next.  

Gongmyung’s acceptance into the Hwarang, from your perspective, wasn’t to tear them apart, but maybe to cause dissension among the members. You’re not fond of him, but his treatment towards Seungcheol and the colonel’s receptiveness to the critiques is what worries you the most. It’s not as if his arm would work again overnight, it would take a miracle to happen, and Seungcheol doesn’t seem like the type to frequent shamans.  

Sometime later you find yourself wandering back to your room, the meeting dissipating with little to be done with the newest arrivals. Although cold outside, the setting sun gives off little warmth as you trapeze yourself through one of the gardens. The reddish-maroon of the sinking star unsettling you. 

You still have Seungcheol in mind as you pause for a moment, staring up at the shifting hues of the heavens. A conversation you’d heard in the news of Seungcheol’s injury had spurred the conversation of the Furies as well as a serum. By the way they’d spoken of it, it made it seem as if the item was only used in dire circumstances, and it was highly secretive. You weren’t even supposed to know about it in the first place, but Soonyoung had let slip some information on it and now you can’t help but think about it. 

If you were to try and learn of it yourself, it’s no doubt that you’d find yourself in a world of trouble. Yet, you are the daughter of a physician, surely you have more medical knowledge than them? 

Falling onto your better judgment, you return to your quarters. Even if you’re worried about Seungcheol, you’re not sure that there’s much you can even do for him at this point.  

When the sun finally drops below the horizon, it seems as if Shoshin Temple bursts to life with activity. But the sounds aren’t boisterous, not the gaiety induced ones of the captains rough-housing, these were more ominous. You hear footsteps charge past your room, never seeming to cease as the men run off to an unknown location.  

Despite trying your best to keep out of it, your curiosity overtakes you, amalgamating in you slowly creeping out into the hall and following the sound of the commotion. The sounds take you to the main hall, the door left ajar so you quietly make your way inside. 

“To think that Seungcheol would’ve…” You can hear Youngmin’s voice, a seriousness in it as he comes into view. Jihoon and the other captains stand around him, each looking to be in a different stage of shock or disbelief. 

“What the hell were you all doing?!” Jihoon shouts out towards the other captains, his grief seeming to take shape in the form of unbridled anger, “I told you to watch out for Seungcheol! Was there some fucking part of that that you didn’t understand?” 

“You can’t blame us for this,” Junhui retorts defensively, “Who would’ve thought that he’d drink that shit? He was also in charge of that stuff so how were we supposed to know he had it?” 

“If he’d hidden it in a vial we wouldn’t have known,” Mingyu adds, glancing from Junhui to Jihoon, “And suppose that it does treat his arm… Everyone who took it went crazy. It didn’t work.” 

The serum… is that what the captains are referring to? You don’t have enough context on the situation to understand fully, but has Seungcheol taken whatever it is? 

“Seungcheol had been trying to improve it,” Hansol interjects, “He’d hoped his arm would heal before it deteriorated too much… Maybe he felt as if there wasn’t any other way. Regardless of that, when he realized his failure he ignored Seungkwan and tried to kill himself.”

“Kill himself?” You gasp aloud, momentarily forgetting that you aren’t supposed to be here. Slowly, all eyes shift to you, Jihoon’s gaze quickly meeting yours. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks and suddenly you’re unable to speak. His gaze holds an iciness that causes your throat to clam up, restricting any words that are trying to form. It’s the same way you felt upon entering Shoshin the first time, a mixture of anxiousness, suspicion and animosity.  

“Jihoon,” Youngmin says, his hand moving to rest on the commander’s forearm, “I think it’s time you tell her what’s going on. She is Heo’s daughter, after all.” 

Your eyes grow wide at the mention of your father’s name. Why is he being brought up all of a sudden? 

“I’m going to make this clear,” the commander stares at Youngmin with a grimace, looking back to you after a moment and sighing out lengthily, “The Hwarang don’t need you. There’s a chance that you’ll help us find Heo, but even without you, we’ll find him one way or another. Do anything strange and we’ll have you killed.” Your limbs feel frozen in place as he speaks, you’re able to stutter out an ‘Okay’ before he continues. “I’m going to tell you what’s happening here, but keep in mind that if you tell anyone else about it other than those that are in this room: it’s your own head.” 

“Are you… going to kill me?” 

“Not yet, but don’t think that means you’re free to run off.” 

“We never told you why your father was here in the first place,” Youngmin steps in, allowing you to break your gaze with Jihoon. “He was developing a… treatment of sorts.” 

“Like the one Seungcheol took?” Words forming on your lips, testing out how shocked you sound.  

The leader of the Hwarang nods solemnly, breathing in deeply before responding, “We first learned of it when one of the Crown’s men brought it to us. They told us it was obtained through trades with merchants in Tang.” 

The curiosity of it all, as dreadful it may be, swirls inside of you. Culminating into something you’re not sure you have the words to describe.  

“A foreign drug said to augment a man’s healing and bolster their strength,” Hansol sighs out, “Anyone who drank their fill would, supposedly, be able to fight off a guhin with no issue.” His voice serious, despite having alluded to a mythical beast, “Any of their injuries would heal almost immediately, unless they were decapitated or pierced through the heart.

This all sounds like something your father would’ve told you as a child to fuel your imagination, not something that was feasible now. 

“Yet, that power comes at a price. It spirals whoever drinks it into an unreturnable madness, they seek out human blood to satisfy their hunger instead of food or drink.” Hansol continues, looking at you with a wary gaze, Heo took it upon himself to try it out on some of the Hwarang so that an attempt to perfect the serum could be worked on. 

“My father?” You’re not sure how surprised you sound, something within you twinges but it’s probably the knowledge somewhere deep inside that you knew your father is connected to all of this. Yet knowing that he was using his skills to try and work on this… serum, makes a pit begin to form in your stomach. “So that night where you all found me...”

“We keep the men who’ve taken it to a temple just outside of Seorabeol, if they were kept here people would’ve become suspicious,” The explanation doesn’t tell you how you’d come to find them, but you can infer that they’d probably escaped. “As long as they don’t get any blood they stay relatively quiet.” With the way Hansol relays the information, it makes it seem as this is just a nonchalant topic for him, and it may have very well been. But to you, it’s alien but helps you put together a few things you’d been wondering since your arrival here.  

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, a tinge of concern to his voice, “You don’t look great.” He stops himself, scoffing inwardly before continuing, “Of course you’re not, this information would sicken anyone.”

“I think we’ve told her enough,” Jihoon interjects before Mingyu can continue, “We need to think about what to do with Seungcheol.”

“I guess…” Junhui frowns, crossing his arms, “But he was practically dead when Eunseok took him out of here.”

“This was a new draught of that shit, though,” Jihoon sounds as if he’s trying to contain himself, to keep his hopefulness on the floor, “we don’t know if the effects are any different from the last batch. And if it’s supposed to do what it's meant to, then that cut isn’t going to kill him.” His eyes flicker to the leader, “Youngmin, can you watch over him? I know Eunseok’s taking care of him but he’s just a kid and I don’t think that-” A pause as he catches himself fretting, he gives himself a second to straighten up, “Tonight will tell us if he’s meant to live or die, and whether he’ll be sane or not by the end of it.”

“Of course, isn’t Seungkwan with him as well?” Youngmin asks before he turns on his heels and heads towards the door.

“He’s guarding the room,” A curt response from Jihoon before Youngmin nods and exits the main hall, the sound of his footsteps dying down after a moment.

“I want you to keep everyone away from the captain’s wing,” Jihoon looks towards Mingyu, a frown dancing on his lips, “Especially Gongmyung’s men.”

“I know,” Mingyu huffs looking to where Youngmin had exited.

“Junhui, go and check on Hwangnyongsa.”

Another order from Jihoon, Junhui nods wordlessly and begins to head towards the main exit of the headquarters. As he passes, you see a glint of the same hostility he’d held towards you on the night of your first arrival. It’s tense and suspicious of you, an itch of gooseflesh overcoming you as he walks out into the night.

“Hansol, go to the inner courtyard, if the Kim brothers or their men show up, keep them busy,” And before Hansol’s even left the room, Jihoon’s gaze settles on you. “I want you to stay with one of the captains.” His concern stems not for the care of your well-being, that much is evident in his gaze, but more to the fact that tonight isn’t a good night to be wandering around alone.

“I’d stay away from Hwangnyongsa, they get rowdy at night,” Mingyu notes, his teeth biting at his cheek.

You nod, thankful for the suggestion, but even with his warning, you’d be limited in where you could go.

“I think I’ll stay here,” you assert to the remaining men, nodding to yourself that this is probably the safest place you could remain within the compound.

It doesn’t take long for Hansol and Mingyu to take their leave, heading for their respective locations around the headquarters before you’re left alone with the commander.

The main hall feels suffocating, mostly from Jihoon’s quietness and the thoughts of what had transpired here merely an hour beforehand. Your gaze shifts from looking out of the main entrance to the commander, his brow furrowing and eyes looking sullen. It’s easy to see that the events of tonight are eating away at him, his concern for his second-in-command utterly gnawing at his very being. His eyes close and he lets out a quiet sigh before speaking again,

“You might think you know who Seungcheol is, but this… It’s not really who he is. He’s an intelligent man who is more than just a sword. The colonel sees the full picture rather than what lies duly in front of him.” Another sigh as if he’s reminiscing, “His guidance helped me through a lot more than I’d like to credit, but his words were always more commandeering than his blade. In a way he was more powerful than me, without him, the Hwarang would’ve regressed to the likes of the Wonhwa.” A subtle smile curling on his lips, “He was like my big brother.” Hands balling into fists atop the table, there is a sincerity that drips from his words bitterly.

“He must mean a lot to you,” you say softly, your own hands falling into your lap, your back hitting the back of the chair as you lean.

“It sounds a little childlike when you say it aloud,” the absinthian smile still clinging to him. He sits, probably thinking the worst outcome for his longtime friend, reminiscing on their past and contemplating what it may mean for the future. Jihoon’s position leaves him unable to divulge this with most others, yet by sharing them with you, he can hold off on the truth for a while longer.

“The only reason we didn’t get rid of that serum is because we thought we could heal his arm with it somehow… Because I thought we could heal him,” the smile fades away, replaced with a grimace. “I should’ve seen this coming.” His own hands fall away from the tabletop and to his sides, a relent in the tension building in his shoulders, “We need Seungcheol. We can’t lose him.”

An anguish coming over him due to the morality of his friend. It’s hard to watch, and you’re nowhere near close enough to him to offer him substantial comfort or advice.

“It’ll be okay,” quiet words leaving you as you straighten up in your chair, his gaze flickering over to you.  

“Do you have anything to back that statement up?”

“Back in Toehwa-hyeon, I saw my father treat a lot of people. Most of them believed that they’d recover, and my dad said it was because they had a strong heart,” you say slowly, trying to space out your words coherently. “Seungcheol never seemed like the type to give up fully, and if we all think that he’ll recover then…”

Jihoon lets out a small laugh with a smile and shakes his head, “The Commander of the Hwarang being cheered up by a physician’s daughter. Who could’ve ever imagined this?” A spark igniting in his eyes, returning to the glowing embers and eventual blaze that he so often carries. “You’re right, though. Seungcheol drank the medicine with the intent of getting better and fixing his arm, we just have to believe that he’ll recover.” 

𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 7, 662 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The night breaks into dawn long after you've retired to your room. A clattering of noise and the rise of voices rouse you from slumber and pull you back to the main hall. Upon entering, you find that the captains have gathered, each in conversation with one another. This scene isn’t interrupted until Eunseok enters. 

“It seems as if the hardest part for him is over,” The youngest nods, a collective ball of tension in the room dissipating instantly. 

“How is he?” Mingyu asks, looking to Eunseok. 

“Still asleep,” he nods, “he was in and out of consciousness the entire night, but he looks peaceful now.”

“Has he gone crazy like the others?” Junhui’s question is blunt as he blurts it out into the space. 

Eunseok shakes his head in the negative, “Not seemingly. But we won’t know until he wakes up. But as for now, he looks as he always has.”

Before another captain is able to ask Eunseok of Seungcheol’s status, the doors open and Gongmyung strides into the room.

“Good morning everyone,” A cheap smile painted on his face, “How are you?”

You can hear Junhui let out a soft, “Fuck,” at the sight of him. 

Gongmyung scans the faces of the captains after their muffled hellos, “You all look… gloomy.” 

“Isn’t it obvious that it’s because we’ve got to see your beautiful face every morning?” Junhui bites with a snicker. 

“What a… cute response,” Gongmyung’s quick to brush away the insult as he turns to the other captains. “Is the reason you all look so down because of what happened last night?”

“Ah, actually,” Youngmin begins, fumbling over his words. His gaze hops from captain to captain, looking for someone to relieve him of trying to offer an excuse to Gongmyung. 

“Jae,” Junhui’s elbow finds the older’s side as he whispers, “make something up!”

“You see,” Mingyu says after a moment, he too, stumbling over his words, “Well… Uh, yesterday…” 

“Didn’t you say you used to act for the nobles in your village?” Seungkwan scoffs at him quietly, “Be quiet and let someone else do the talking.” You think he’s talking about himself, but instead of speaking up, Seungkwan looks to Hansol, who begins speaking almost immediately. 

“As you may have heard, an incident occurred last night at the headquarters,” voice plain as he speaks to the Deputy Commander, “We have yet to gain full knowledge on the situation. If we were to make a statement now, it is a risk of polluting fact with falsities. Later this afternoon I’m sure we’ll be able to provide a much more detailed report.” 

“Hmm,” Gongmyung mulls over Hansol’s statement for a moment, “I’ll look forward to hearing all about what happened later this evening, then. For now, I’ll return to my men.” He waves everyone on his way out, a strange smile cutting across his face before he exits. 

“That was easier than it should’ve been,” Seungkwan huffs, watching the door close with a soft slam.

“What do you mean?” You ask, attention turning from the door and to Seungkwan.

“Gongmyung isn’t stupid, unfortunately,” Jihoon frowns and looks at you, “We shouldn’t have let him in here. The only person missing from our ranks is Seungcheol, it’s not going to take him long to realize that something’s happened to him.” 

The Deputy Commander had most likely suspected what had occurred but decided to not press the issue. Before you can think on it for too long, the door opens once more and Choi Seungcheol shuffles in.

A small laugh as he looks at them, his voice sounding a little weak, “Come on, it’s not like I’m some kind of monster.”

Eunseok rushes to him, offering assistance to stand but is waved away by the Colonel, “You should be resting, are you okay being up like this?”

“I’m tired… sore… but I suppose that’s a side effect of my new condition,” Seungcheol’s brow furrows slightly as he looks down to his hand, “Those who’ve taken the serum have found it difficult to do work in the daylight.” His face is a bit pallid, but with the way he stands and moves, it doesn’t seem like he’s hindered all too much. “I’m no longer human,” the words echoing around the room with a chilling effect. Each and every captain fell silent to them.

“Who cares about what you are?” Youngmin speaks up after a moment and steps towards Seungcheol with a bright smile, trying to lighten the mood, “All that matters is that you’re alive.”

“How’s your arm? Healed?” Seungkwan questions, looking down to the colonel’s once bandaged limb. 

“I don’t think I’ve fully recovered yet,” Seungcheol notes, flexing his fingers at his side, “It seems to have healed for the most part.” 

Despite the disturbance and subsequent chaos of the night prior, it seems like Seungcheol’s wish to use his arm again had come true. 

“You can’t go out in the sunlight though, right?” Mingyu asks, voice concerned, and his brow furrowed, “Will you still be able to fight with us?”

Seungcheol nods, slowly moving his head as if he’s mulling over a thought he’d been holding in for some time. “I think you should tell everyone I died.”

“What!?” Junhui shouts out, unable to hold in the burst of confusion. “The fuck are you on about?”

“I should serve in the Corps from now on. It’ll show them, and even more so, us, that success isn’t some far off dream.” Seungcheol says, looking at the frazzled captain. 

“Have you lost your goddamn mind Seungcheol?” Junhui’s voice shakes with every word, “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“Of course, I do,” Seungcheol frowns, “The Crown has ordered us to keep the serum a secret, and if I,” a small hum as he postulates his next word, “die, that secret remains so. Researching in secret will give me more ability to track side effects and even give me the potential to remove them. What reason do we have for me not to if we’re going to use it?” 

The movements of the captains easily show that they’re against Seungcheol’s idea, although no one but Junhui has said anything against it. None of them wish to banish their friend to a life of hiding and secrecy. 

“We were given this task by the late King himself, carried on by his son…” Youngmin trails off, “This may be our only choice.”  

“This is what you asked for, isn’t it Seungcheol?” Seungkwan shoots him a look, “You’ve always been the type to take things into your own hands so I can’t fault you for that.” 

“Sometimes I think you know me too well,” the colonel chuckles.

Jihoon, who’s stayed silent for a majority of the conversation, scoffs at the remark. “This means moving the Hwarang to a new location can’t wait any longer. If we’re going to hide Seungcheol from Gongmyung and his crowd, Shoshin wouldn’t allow us to do that easily.” 

“You’re right,” Hansol affirms, “If the Colonel intends to begin researching again, then we’ll have to expedite our move.” 

A nod from the commander as he turns to face the captains in full, “Even though none of you slept well, we need to get to work.” He looks to you, “You should get some rest, I know you didn’t sleep well either.” 

You want to stay and help them, but with how fatigued you are from staying up so late you can only nod your head at him before quickly shuffling back to your room. 

The same thoughts that had plagued you last night as you tried to fall asleep plague you as you now lie on your bedding. Your father’s work… Are you safe under their pretext of safety still? Thoughts still buzzing around your head as you eventually find yourself drifting off into a dreamless slumber. 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 4𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Bulguksa Temple has proven a better headquarters than that of Shoshin Temple, you’d come to this conclusion in the subsequent weeks of your arrival in March of this year. There’s much more room for the men to freely roam and train, and the view was even more astonishing than the last. The only downfall is the longer trek to the city of Seorabeol itself. On some days you still find yourself lost on the winding paths to the temple, but for the most part you can guide yourself around with little assistance from the monks who reside there.

On this particular day, you find yourself wandering the seemingly endless grounds for the Hwarang’s colonel. When you think you spot him standing in one of the shaded courtyards of the temple’s grounds you shout out to him.

“There you are, Colonel,” You call out, a tray held tightly in your grasp. The sun hangs in the sky above you, a slight burn beginning to burgeon on your clothed shoulders as you approach. “I’ve brought you your lunch.”

“Oh, hello,” he turns to you with a smile and beckons you closer, “Thank you.” A bird chirps in the branches of the tree above him, you look up to find the small creature before returning your gaze to him. You offer him a smile before extending out the tray to him. 

“It’s really gotten warm lately, hasn’t it?” You note, stepping into the shade once he’d taken the tray. Fingers rising to your shoulders to feel the heat of the sun that had soaked into the fabric. 

“It has,” he nods, moving to set the tray down on a stump beside him, “Although the increased sunshine has been more disagreeable than the warmth.”

“Ah, is it?” The sun doesn’t feel but so harsh on you, but the heat that swells around the compound has been making you sweat since the sun broke over the horizon. Yet, to Seungcheol his disposition probably found the light unbearable from his days in the shadows.

Sometimes it feels unreal to call Seungcheol dead, the night where he’d taken that serum to transform him into a creature lustful for blood, feeling more so like a dream whenever you recall it. As he stands before you now, you can hardly imagine it.

A light breeze wafts through the greenery around you, parting enough leaves in the tree from a few beams of sunlight to fall onto Seungcheol. For a moment, his hair turns a silvery white and his eyes seem to turn a deep crimson.

Your eyes widen and you take a step back, unsure if it were a trick of the light or your own imagination. 

“Is something wrong?” He asks, his hair now normal and his eyes once again brown. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, and I know I’m not at that point yet.” Maybe you had imagined it.

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 6𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Soonyoung had asked you to accompany him on his rounds this morning with an excitedness in his voice that would’ve been hard to turn down. So, now you find yourself briskly walking with him through the crowded streets, the blues of his robes shining brilliantly in the midday sky. 

“It’s been a while since you’ve asked me to come on patrol with you,” You note as you pass a vendor selling sickeningly sweet treats. 

“I know, right? Hanseong kept me pretty busy.” He sighs out, having only just returned from his trip to the northern city just a few weeks ago. “Junhui and Mingyu didn’t mess with you when I was gone, did they? How was it when I was away?”

“Everything was fine, and they didn’t bother me,” You assure him with a small smile. 

“That’s good,” He returns the smile as you continue to walk. “Any updates on Heo though? Did you find any leads?”

“No,” the smile from your lips quickly leaving. 

“I see…” His own smile quickly disappears as he watches you, “I stopped by his place with the information you gave me but… It didn’t seem as if anyone had returned.” The somberness of the male begins to transfer to you, a feeling of hopelessness beginning to overtake you momentarily. 

“Thank you for taking the time to check for me, I know Toehwa-hyeon isn’t on the direct path back.”

“Don’t thank me for that,” He waves you off, “The fact that you can’t freely come and go as you please is completely the Hwarang’s faul—” 

“Soonyoung?” You question as he’d stopped himself mid-sentence. He’d looked glum ever since his return from Hanseong. “How about you, though? I know it’s been a while since you’ve been back in Seorabeol.” 

“I do feel like the city’s changed, the people too,” he muses, glancing at the faces that pass by. There’s a solemness to his tone that wasn’t typically there in conversations you’d had with him prior, had something happened in Hanseong? Before you can question him on it, his head jerks to look above the crowd, standing on his toes and waving to someone across the way.

“Find anything over there, Seungkwan?!” He shouts out above the clamor of the street. 

“Nope,” the older replies as he saunters over, “Nothing out of order here.” Seungkwan is out for patrol too, but his route takes him through a different path through the city. “Normal for now, at least. Things will change once the king comes back from his family villa. Rumor has it that he’s going to address the Hwarang.”

“Is he really?” You question, brow raising in surprise.

“Yep, it’s got Youngmin all flustered,” Seungkwan chuckles, “Our dear leader really respects the Crown, as well all have to, I guess.”

“I see,” you nod, “I hope it actually happens, then, right, Soonyoung?”

Soonyoung looks lost in thought before he hears his name, stumbling out his words as he responds, “Ah, yeah, right.” 

You look to Seungkwan to see if he’s caught on to the other’s oddness. But he’s stifling his mouth with his hand, coughing into it. 

“Are you alright?” You question him as his hand falls away from his mouth.

“I’m okay,” he waves you off, “I probably just caught a cold from patrolling late one night or something.” 

“Well, try to take care of yourself,” a sigh leaving you. As strong and intelligent as the men were, they hardly ever took care of their basic needs, “I have some cold medicine back at the headquarters, I’ll give you some.” 

“Thanks,” Seungkwan smiles, “I guess it is good to have you around at times.” Something catches his attention, and he breaks his gaze away from you and into the crowds of the street.

“Is something wrong?”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” A voice rings out and you follow it to see a man holding the wrist of a woman trying to get away from him. 

“Let go of me!” She cries out, trying to pull herself away from his grip.

“We’re soldiers of this great kingdom, fighting hard every day to kick these loyalists’ asses! You owe us some drinks, and maybe even a little company.” The man says, and it’s then you realize it isn’t just him, but two other presumed soldiers are harassing this woman. 

“Are you guys seeing this?” You question the two captains.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung frowns, “Stay here.”

Yet, before Soonyoung could step forward, Seungkwan seems to be several steps ahead, reaching the group already.

“Soldiers don’t seem to be what they used to,” he tuts, “throwing that rank aloud doesn’t mean you’re owed anything.” The crowds coming to watch the scene shuffle away from Seungkwan as he hovers his hand on his blade, glaring at the men. As the harassers catch the blues of the Hwarang’s robes they seem to stiffen. 

“You’re a Hwarang, aren’t you?” One of them asks, furrowing their brow.

“And you must be the smartest one out of these men,” Seungkwan’s tone is condescending as his hand now rests on the hilt of his sword. “Now, what’s it going to be?” A snide, predatory smile as he grips the hilt, no happiness deriving from the grin as the soldier’s faces pale. 

“Why don’t you leave us alone? This doesn’t involve you.” The one presumed to be their ringleader remarks. 

“If you really want to get out of here unscathed, you should probably follow your own advice,” Soonyoung scoffs, now saddling up beside Seungkwan. 

The sight of two Hwarang seems enough to deter the men from their endeavor. Their faces draining of color before they scamper off like scolded dogs. 

“If they’re just gonna run off like that when they see us they shouldn’t have tried to start anything in the first place,” Soonyoung sighs, watching them disappear into the crowds. 

“Aren’t you going to go after them?” You ask, looking at them as you walk over.

“And charge them with what?” Seungkwan questions, retracting his hand away from his blade and crossing his arms, “Didn’t think you were the iron fist kind of person.”

Before you can protest that that’s not what you meant, the woman whom the two Hwarang had intervened for speaks up, “Thank you for saving me.” She gives both Seungkwan and Soonyoung a bow, more grace in her movements than you could ever hope to have. Even if you dressed like a girl you’re not sure you’d even come close. 

Seungkwan’s hand lands on your shoulder before you’re able to feel any sorrier for yourself. “Seungkwan?” You question as he pulls you forward to stand next to the girl.

“Just go with it,” he says and steps away from the two of you, his hand under his chin as he looks over both of you. You smile softly at the girl, embarrassed as to what the Hwarang is making you do. She returns the smile, beautiful on the outside but there is something almost… strange about it. 

“Just as I thought,” Seungkwan nods, “They look just like each other.” 

And then it hits you, the girl standing before you looks just as you do whenever you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirrors dotting the headquarters. 

“Really?” Soonyoung questions, tilting his head at the two of you, “I don’t think they look alike at all, Boo.”

“Dress ‘em up like a girl and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference,” Seungkwan insists.

“Captain Boo…” The woman says, looking at you, “She seems troubled.” 

She? Had the woman caught on to you so soon? Stuck in your thoughts she smiles at you once more, “I want to thank all of you properly, but I’m afraid that I’m in the middle of something important. My name is Ahro, I hope I’ll be able to repay you soon, Captain Boo.”

And with that she too disappears like a wisp into the crowds of Seorabeol, the strangeness of her presence lingering long after she’s left.

“It looks like she likes you, Seungkwan!” Soonyoung nudges the elder with his elbow.

“Is that really what you think, Soonyoung?” The other laughs, “You’ve got a long way to go before you’re at Junhui’s prowess levels.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Soonyoung shouts at the other, clearly offended by the remark. 

Their bickering fades away as you look to a puddle on the ground left from the rain the night prior. Looking into it now you see the resemblance that you and that woman had had. “Ahro…” You hum as a gust of wind causes the water to ripple and distort your figure. 

“Let’s get going!” Soonyoung calls, now further down the street as he’d begun walking back to Bulguksa.

“Coming!” You shout out to him as you look up from the puddle and begin to chase after him. 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 11𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The main hall of this temple is open enough so that most, if not all, of the Seorabeol Hwarang can fit inside of it with ample room to spare. It’s a little strange to see all of these faces in one place, seeing as at Shoshin, only the captains and a few other members took priority of occupying the main hall. Yet, as Kwak Youngmin stands proudly in front of his men, any thoughts of the prior location escape your mind.

“By now it’s probably not our best kept secret, but King Munmu has asked us to act as his guard as he returns from his family’s villa to Banweolseong.” Youngmin beams excitedly as the hall begins to erupt in chatter.

“Guard him?” Junhui looks shocked as he turns towards Mingyu, “What’s that about?”

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head in disbelief, “I thought we were just going to get the usual ‘Keep up the good work’ spiel.” 

“Our work at Wonweol and Ongsan must’ve gotten through to them,” Jihoon nods, a hidden smile pulling at his lips. 

“The leadership of Silla resting on us,” Seungkwan muses almost gleefully, “That’s big.”

“Exactly right,” Jihoon agrees, “We’ve got to do beyond our best for this.”

On the opposite end of the hall, you can hear Suh Kangjoon speak up, “Guarding the king… That’s quite the promotion for us.”

“It truly is,” Gongmyung notes with a sigh, “If only Seungcheol were alive to see it. He would’ve been overjoyed.” Another lamenting breath tiptoeing on faux sympathy, “To have lost such an ally…” 

Kim Gongmyung and all of his followers had been told of the colonel’s passing. Actually, the incident surrounding Seungcheol’s transformation had been hidden, only a few of the Hwarang knew the reality of the situation. 

“I think doing our best to serve and protect the king is what Seungcheol would’ve wanted,” Youngmin interjects himself into their conversation. 

“Yes,” Gongmyung nods, “Of course. This is an excellent opportunity for us to gain favor with the masses.”

“We ought to assign roles at this point. I’d like Jihoon, Seungkwan, and myself to—” Youngmin begins before being cut off by Jihoon.

“Sorry Kwak, but do you think Boo can sit this one out?” The commander’s arms cross over his chest as he glances towards the third party. 

“Why’s that?” Youngmin questions, confusion sweeping his features.  

“His cold hasn’t recovered fully. And despite me telling him to take care of himself, he neglects to do so,” He sighs out, looking back towards Youngmin. 

“Is this true, Seungkwan?” Youngmin looks at the swordsman, “Are you alright?”

“Lee’s just babying me again,” Seungkwan says with a dismissive gesture, “I think I’m alright.”

“Don’t give me that shit,” Jihoon frowns, “You nearly coughed up a lung earlier.” 

“Are you trying to sell me medicine?” He scoffs, crossing his arms with a frown, “There’s no way in hell I’m taking what your mother’s doctor prescribed anymore. It tastes like persimmons.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to—” a frustrated grunt from the commander, “Just do what I say, for once.”

You recall giving Seungkwan medicine some time ago after he’d been coughing while out on patrol, had it not helped him? It could be dust particles in the air, you know that the buildup of dust in the temple caused you to sneeze incessantly some mornings. 

From the corner of your periphery, you see someone raise their hand. 

“Is something wrong, Soonyoung?” Youngmin asks, having seen the younger calling for attention. 

“I’m uh, I’m not feeling so great either,” Soonyoung frowns, his eyes looking panicked. 

“You too?” Youngmin hums in defeat, “You should try and take care of yourself. I was hoping we could all go and guard the king.”

“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung bows his head in apology. 

“No, no, don’t worry about it. Your health comes first, always!” Youngmin tries to brighten his tone to detract from the now somber mood. “I’m sure we’ll have another chance to do something great together!”

Jihoon and Youngmin continue discussing the precession that’s to take place, when suddenly, the commander turns to you.

“What’re you going to do?” Jihoon asks, an eyebrow raised as he poises the question. 

“What do you mean?” You say as you look to him, “Are you asking if I want to go with you?”

“I am,” He nods and after a moment of silence asks, “Are you?” 

“Is that really okay?”

“Of course it is!” Youngmin smiles, “We won’t mind. Besides, you’re practically one of us, I’d love for you to accompany us.” 

Another moment of hesitation before Seungkwan laughs aloud, “Why don’t you go? It seems a lot safer than what happened at Wonweol and Ongsan.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung nods, “I can’t imagine any loyalists would try to do anything when the king’ll be so heavily guarded.” 

“I’ll go, then,” you nod firmly towards the commander. 

“Alright,” Jihoon nods back with a small smile, “I thought we’d give you the job of running messages when needed. It’s not going to be the easiest job but I figure you can do it.”

Later that day you and the able captains and Hwarang left Seorabeol. Traveling about an hour or two outside of the city as you wait for the king’s caravan to greet you in a small village that you can’t remember the name of. You never actually saw the king, but you follow the Hwarang back to Seorabeol, arriving at the gates of the city just as the sun dips below the horizon. The walk through the city is brisk, and in no time the caravan disbands and you and a few other Hwarang stand outside the palace gates. By now, Youngmin, Junhui and Gongmyung are probably greeting officials and other important members of the king’s retinue. 

You shift on your feet for a moment, the sole aching slightly from the trek earlier, but you have a job to do. Jihoon had tasked you to tell the Hwarang when to change their shift and to carry any important messages when needed. It’s something of a glorified page position, but it’s not an entirely useless role… probably. 

“You’re the messenger?” A voice says as you approach them, “This isn’t a vacation, you know.”

“I’m not here to relax, Dongyoung,” you sigh as you stand before him.

“Is that right? Then why did we take someone here who can’t even use a sword?” Dongyoung scoffs, the light from a nearby brazier flickering across the sneer on his face.

“I’m here to do what I can,” You state firmly before beginning to relay your message. “The Chief is currently paying his respects to members of the court, everyone else should continue guarding.” 

“Message understood,” he says flippantly, causing you to look confused with how he didn’t retort on it. “What? Surprised I actually listened to you?”

“Oh no—I just—” 

“It’s a job,” He frowns, “It’s not personal. Now you’ve delivered your message, get going.”

You don’t ever speak much to Dongyoung, mostly on account of his brother being Gongmyung, but maybe he’s more responsible than you thought him to be. 

After he shoos you away, you continue to make your rounds, delivering messages to the Hwarang stationed around the castle. They’re easy to spot, wearing their white robes instead of their normal blues. They seem laxer now, maybe because the loyalists had been driven out of the capital for the most part, the Baekje revivalists fleeing back to the territory of the old kingdom. 

As you think that, and begin to approach another member of the Hwarang some distance away, your blood runs cold. A prick of gooseflesh running along your spine as your heartbeat reaches your ears. You can taste the blood in the air, looking around the trees encasing the palace and finding nothing. It’s not until you look at the castle walls and the walkway situated on top of it, does your stomach sink. Three figures jump down from the wall, landing on the dirt ground with a cloud of gritty dust.

“You’ve found us, then,” A familiar voice sighs out as they turn to you, stating your name somewhat cooly. The figure, flanked by two others, is haloed in the moonlight as you squint your eyes to try and get a better look at his face. “Not too slow.” Their piercing gaze fires into you, the name ‘Hong Jisoo’ battering through your mind as you remember the distinctive voice and way he carries himself. The last you’d seen him had been at Ongsan, and you face him now with much more dread than you’d had that day.

The two figures beside him must be Hwan Minhyun and Xu Minghao, the people whom other Hwarang had encountered during the battle at the fortress. You know they have ties with the inner court and had tried to stop the Hwarang’s efforts during the battle at Wonweol and Ongsan.

“Why are you here?” You question, trying to keep your voice steady.

“You mean ‘how’ did we get here, don’t you?” the one on Jisoo’s left, questions. “Man made obstacles are meaningless to a Demon.”

“We’re here for only one reason: you.” The other speaks up, crossing his arms. 

“Me?” You take a step back, the pounding of your heart unrelenting as you stare at them. “I don’t understand.” How do they know your name? “What do you mean by Demon? Is this some kind of joke?”

Jisoo scoffs, “You of all people are asking that? Maybe you’re the one who’s joking.” He steps forward, toward you, the shadows seeming to cling to his robes as he walks. 

When the man you now presume to be Minhyun speaks, it’s soft, almost caring in a way, “When you’re injured, do you heal quickly?” Your breath catches in your throat as he continues, “You heal faster than anyone around you, right?” 

This knowledge about you is unknown to almost everyone except for you and your father… How do they know this? 

You’re about to try and pull yourself together to defend yourself from the accusations when the other man, Minghao speaks up. “Wouldn’t it be better to just give her a demonstration?” His hand begins to reach for the quiver on his back before Jisoo speaks up.

“Minghao, do you really think I’d let you hurt a female Demon?” His voice slightly agitated as he glanced at the other. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, Hong.” He scoffs, “She’s being stubborn, what do you suggest we do?” 

Jisoo breaks his glare, only for his eyes to settle on the blade at your hip. “Her family’s name is a demon’s, she carries the Demon of Taebaeksan’s blade. Isn’t that enough evidence?” 

“My… name?” What’s wrong with ‘Heo’? His narrative, largely unknown to you, is cause enough for you to continue to panic. 

“Then again, it’s not like we need your permission to kidnap you,” Jisoo muses, looking at you with a frown, “Come with us or we’ll have to take you instead.” His hand outstretches towards you like a lure trying to bait in a fish. You step back, away from him, when you feel two figures brush past you. 

“Woah there,” Mingyu says as he stops, feet hitting the ground as his hand reaches for and pulls out his sword, “This really isn’t the place to try and pick up a woman.”

“You again?” Jisoo asks as he steps back, a sneer on his lips, “For a noble you really do like to keep it simple.”

“The same could be said to you,” Hansol says to him, also reaching for his blade. He looks back to you, “When we heard you hadn’t given your messages out on time we came to look for you.”

You nod and step back once more, your legs becoming unsteady as if the adrenaline that had been coursing through you suddenly left you at once. A hand catches you before you fall, pulling you further away from the skirmish.

“Stay back here,” Jihoon says sternly, looking towards the trio of assailants. His hand guides you to his side before he lets go of you, reaching for his blade. “I thought you’d be here for the king,” He says to Jisoo, “What do you want with my page?” 

“I don’t have any interest in you or this kingdom right now,” Jisoo says, looking past the commander and at you, “This matter only concerns us Demons.” 

“Demons?” Jihoon scoffs, narrowing his eyes at the foe. He seems confused by the statement, perhaps hoping there’d be a more coherent and understandable reason for Jisoo’s presence. 

“Haven’t seen you since Ongsan,” Minghao notes, looking over to Mingyu and Hansol.

“Looks like it’s fate,” Mingyu huffs out, “not that I’m particularly happy about it.” 

“I don’t feel great about this reunion either,” Hansol sighs and pulls out his sword, Mingyu following suit. 

The tension lays thick in the air, settling into your throat so that you find it hard to speak or breathe. With the slightest movement that could set them off, you reflexively reach for the blade at your hip so that should anything arise, you’ll be ready. 

“Don’t worry about them,” A voice from behind you speaks up. Cloaked in the shadows from the nearby forest, Chan slowly approaches you. “Jihoon’s asked me to escort you back to headquarters.”

“Are you telling me to run?” You ask, gaze shifting from Chan to Jihoon, who’s still locked eyes with Jisoo. 

“I am,” Chan nods, reaching out so that you might take his hand, “Even if you stay there’s little you can do.” 

You shake your head, his hand falling away back to his side, “I’m going to stay.” 

“What do you think you’ll be able to do here?” Chan doesn’t sound condescending, just confused as to why you’d wish to stay and endanger yourself further. 

You think to what the three intruders had said to you prior, the want to know more about what they’d called you sought itself out with more priority than your own safety at the moment. 

“You have a reason, I see.” The Hwarang shakes his head, not waiting for a response as he sees the conviction already dead-set in your gaze. “I can admire that. But I do have my orders. You may want to stay because you want to do what you believe is right, but I have to do the same.” His hand outstretches towards you once more, a pleading look in his eye as he quietly asks for you to go with him. 

Before his fingers are able to brush against the linen of your robes, an arrow whizzes by, buzzing before it lands with a solid ‘thunk’ in a tree behind Chan. Gaze traveling back to where it had been fired, you find Minghao lowering his bow, his hand still hovering over his quiver should he need to take another shot. 

“She said she wanted to stay,” Minghao sighs, grabbing another arrow before loosely notching it, “You have to learn to respect a woman’s wishes.” 

Mingyu lurches forward with his sword in retaliation for the attack on his fellow Hwarang, hoping to land a blow somewhere on Minghao’s abdomen. The strike though, is easily dodged by the bowman, who merely steps aside and watches as Mingyu’s feet falter as he moves to sling his bow over his shoulder and reach for the sword at his hip.

“Minghao’s temper is going to get him in trouble one day,” you hear Minhyun note with a frown as he witnesses the event. 

“Evidently so,” Hansol agrees, sword still clenched in his fist, “You don’t seem like you’re going to stop him, though.” He then moves to strike the unarmed foe, swinging his sword in a downward motion to try and disrupt the lax stance Minhyun was in. 

“And here I was,” a clanging of metal as Minhyun seems to unsheathe his sword in a blink of an eye and move it upwards to counter Hansol’s blow, “thinking we could just talk this through!” 

“Who the hell are these guys?” Jihoon says through grit teeth as you hover your hand over your blade once more. Behind you, you can hear Chan slip back into the tree line, presumably to go and fetch help for the commander and captains. Minghao and Minhyun are showing much more prowess with a blade than you’d thought, and with Jisoo still standing, you know it’d take more men than the three Hwarang to defeat them. 

For now, though, you put your faith into Jihoon and step back from the fight, an action that draws appraisal from the commander, “Good. Don’t be an idiot and draw your sword. Leave this to me.”

“Don’t you remember the last time we fought?” Jisoo frowns and you recall the fight that Jihoon had found himself entrenched in. The way that the stranger speaks of it unsettles you, as if he’s taunting the commander with the memory of it. “Maybe instead of going easy I’ll just get rid of you.” 

Jihoon laughs at the absurdity of the statement, “I’d love to see you try. I still haven’t paid you back for killing one of my men at Ongsan.”

The rivalry sparks between them, a fire igniting in their gazes before Jihoon takes the first step. They run towards each other, their swords clanging together and ringing out through the nighttime sky. Blades screaming against one another as they’re pulled apart by the respective opponent, Jihoon seeks to swing again only to be parried by Jisoo with ease. 

“What the hell are you?” Jihoon asks as the two part once more, his breathing heaving as it seems as if he’d thrown his all into his last strike. 

“Haven’t I already said what I was? A Demon,” Jisoo frowns, barely looking scathed by the short skirmish, “but not just me, or them, but her too.” His gaze flickers over to you for a moment before looking back to Jihoon. “We’ve come to relinquish you from watching over her.”

“Sounds like bullshit to me,” Jihoon snorts before tightening his grip on his blade. This time, it’s Jisoo who strikes out first, their blades greeting each other with a shuddered clangor. They exchange a few more blows, a strand of Jisoo’s hair edging too close to Jihoon’s blade and quickly getting cut away. The cut strands flutter to the ground and settle by his feet. Instead of looking scared at how close a blade had come to his body, Jisoo shows what seems to be the tiniest bit of surprise before lowering his sword. 

Jihoon, seeing his opposition falter, lowers his blade as well, taking a step back. Around them, you see that Hansol, Minhyun, Mingyu and Minghao have stopped fighting as well. 

“Fighting like this is going to get us nowhere,” Minhyun frowns and looks over to Jisoo, “We’ll only attract more people.”

“I can’t help but feel that that’s targeted at him,” Minghao bites, “I know when to stop, the only one here who’s got an issue with that is—” His gaze trails towards Jisoo as he speaks, biting back a retort. 

A deep, almost exasperated sigh from Jisoo, “We don’t have to stay. We’ve only come to verify that the lead was correct.”

“Do you think we’ll just let you walk away?” Hansol questions, his sword still raised towards the trio. 

“You three might survive,” Jisoo nods, moving to sheath his sword, “but how many of your men will we have to kill before we escape? Are their lives that expendable?” Jihoon, Hansol and Mingyu remain angrily silent, knowing full well they can’t accept that risk. Jisoo smiles at them, he and the two others begin to make their way to the forest’s edge, but before they disappear completely, their leader turns and says one last thing to you.

“I will be back for you.” Not wanting to meet his gaze, your eyes travel to the embroidered yellow azaleas on his robes before they vanish in the denseness of the forest. 

The words whip through you like an icy chill, curling around your stomach with a fear you haven’t felt since you were a child. 

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks after he’s sheathed his sword and takes a few steps towards you. 

“I’m… alright,” you nod weakly, clenching your fists so they won’t shake.

“You’re bad at lying,” he laughs lightly, “Just wait here for a bit, we’ll have some other men take a few rounds and make sure those three don’t come back.”

“Thank you,” trying to sound as appreciative as you can, you look from Mingyu to Jihoon, who continues to stare into the darkness of the woods as if to try and spot the three figures. 

“Do you have any idea why they came after you?” He questions after a moment, locking eyes with you as if to probe your mind. 

“I’m not sure…” you relent, not knowing whether Jisoo’s words were accurate or not. Were you really what he said, a Demon? 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 20𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The incident on the night of the eleventh never comes to the attention of any other members of the Hwarang, save for the commander’s most trusted captains. In lieu of that, life at Bulguksa remains relatively unchanged, the usual grumblings from Gongmyung and his crowd continue as usual and the captain’s antics remain unbothered. 

On this balmy morning, you walk through the halls, coming upon a line of Hwarang gaily chatting among themselves as they wait. Suddenly a door opens from the beginning of the line and Gongmyung comes racing out towards your direction.

“Never have I felt so violated,” He huffs exasperatedly, coming towards you. “This is absolutely horrendous!” 

“Is something wrong, Gongmyung?” You ask with a tilt of your head, wondering what has the Deputy Commander in such a tizzy. 

“Everything!” He pants out, a thin line of panicked sweat trailing down the side of his face, “Why am I meant to disrobe in that room of utter brutes!?” 

His sentence makes you furrow your brow, what exactly is going on? 

“Someone who calls themself a physician who Youngmin met while conversing with the King’s council arrived today,” the Deputy Commander does his best to straighten his robes and adjust his long strands of hair that had gone askew. “He’s holding physical examinations.” With a frown he nods his head towards the door he’d raced out of moments prior, “That monster said I should take my clothes off in front of near strangers! When I refused, he tried to take them off of me himself! And the other captains just stood there! Without doing anything!” 

Seeing as your particular… situation might not be the best for a physical examination in a group full of men, you think about returning to your room before you ask, “What’s the doctor’s name?”

“I think it was Namekawa Yasuo, some man from Yamato,” Gongmyung huffs indignantly. 

“Doctor Namekawa!” You nearly jump at the familiar name. 

The other takes a step back in surprise, “Do you know him or something?”

When you’d arrived in Seorabeol with your father’s letter and a few fragments of some from your father’s collection, his name had been among the signatures. It was your intention upon arrival to seek him out, your father had always called him a trustworthy man. Once in Seorabeol, you found that he’d been away on some patient’s request, and after that you’d quickly gotten swept up into the world of the Hwarang. 

“I’ve got to go!” You brush away his question and barrel past him towards the door he’d exited from. 

“You’re going in there willingly?” Gongmyung calls out from behind you, shaking his head in disgust. 

Almost immediately when you open the door you wish you hadn’t. 

“Alright, next,” the man you presume to be Dr. Namekawa calls out, motioning forward a Hwarang. A nearly fully disrobed Hwarang. 

“My turn!” Junhui shouts and steps forward, only wearing the pants worn underneath his Hwarang robes. “You’re looking at years of training right here,” he laughs almost comically as he approaches the doctor’s station. 

“I think you’re fine, Wen,” Soonyoung scoffs, in a similar state of undress as Junhui, “it’s your head he should be looking at.”

“Are you asking me to beat the shit out of you?” Junhui turns to look at him, a grin split across his face. 

Dr. Namekawa rolls his eyes at him before speaking, “Wen Junhui, you’re fine. Next!” 

“Hold on!” Junhui says, taking a step closer to the doctor and flexing his arm, “You’ve gotta make sure I’m in prime condition!”

“As healthy as a horse,” Namekawa reels, sitting back in his seat, “I’ve seen more than enough, thank you.”

“You’re holding up the line, Wen,” Mingyu calls out, and you spot Hansol standing next to him, both with unamused expressions on their faces. “For the love of— please get moving.”

“I just don’t think he’s had enough time to fully make sure I’m okay!” Junhui complains, “I’m trying to make sure I can bulk up more!”

“This is supposed to be about finding medical issues, not boasting,” Hansol sighs, his arms crossed over his chest, “Move.” 

Your mouth hangs open in shock, it’s now easy to see why Gongmyung had made such a hasty retreat. Shaking your head, you pull yourself from the room and back into the hallway, feeling a creeping heat of embarrassment rise up your neck.

“What are you doing here?” The Hwarang who’s first in line questions, “Is something wrong?” 

“Oh!” Turning, you see Chan gazing at you perplexedly. “Hi, I heard Doctor Namekawa was here.” 

“Ah, so you want to speak to him?” A tilt of his head. “I’ve been briefed on your situation, so I understand what you’re trying to do… But I’m not sure that this is the way to go about it. I’m sure he can speak to you once the physicals are complete.”

You nod, “I just think they might take a while, some of the captains…”

“I’m aware,” he laughs, “if you want me to, I can try to get things moving a little faster.”

“Would you?” Eyes widening, “I’d be thankful if you could.”

“Of course,” the smile still lingering on his lips, “Just leave it to me.” With that he walks into the room and towards the doctor, “Excuse me, Doctor Namekawa? Please let me look after those whose symptoms are minor, I’m sure you could use a break?” 

You stand in the doorway, unable to hear his response, so you step back into the hallway and wait for the doctor to exit. Namekawa Yasuo leaves the room a few moments later, his attention turning to you when you call out to him. 

Namekawa’s eyes narrow as he looks at you, inspecting you as if you were one of his patients. “I need to fetch some medicine from my things, would you mind giving me a hand?” He questions, his gaze softening once you nod your head. 

On the way towards his things, the two of you walk through one of the courtyards and come across Kwak Youngmin walking towards you. He nods at the doctor before glancing at you, “I see you’ve found her already.”

“Thanks to you,” Namekawa nods with a smile at the leader. 

Your brow furrows as you search both of their expressions before the doctor speaks up once more, “I came to Bulguksa to see you. Youngmin told me that Heo’s daughter was staying with the Hwarang.”

“I see,” you realize, your eyes widening as you look towards Youngmin.

“I knew that Namekawa and Heo knew each other,” Youngmin smiles softly, “So I thought that maybe the doctor knew of his friend’s whereabouts.”

Even if the Hwarang wanted to find your father for reasons other than yours, this slight clue was still enough for you to feel happy. 

“Thank you,” a bow to Youngmin and one to Namekawa, “both of you.” 

Namekawa then goes on to say how you’d left just before he arrived at your father’s clinic in Toehwa-hyeon when you’d gone off to Seorabeol. He’d received the letter you sent but once arriving had no idea of where you’d gone or how to find you. 

“I apologize for not seeking you out sooner,” he sounds remorseful, “It must’ve been difficult. If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know.”

“About my father…” the words leave you and Namekawa’s face turns grim, you already feel as if you know the answer. 

“Unfortunately,” he says once your words have trailed off, “I do not know where your father is residing.”

“Oh,” utter defeat lamenting in your voice as you speak the singular word. You almost feel bad now for feeling so hopeful that Namekawa would have some earth-shattering news about the whereabouts of your father. 

“I hear, though,” Namekawa coughs into his hand to clear his throat, “that you’ve become involved with the treatment… You do know what I’m referring to, right?”

“Are you able to explain it any more?” You’d learned of the serum, seen what it had done to those who’d taken it. But why, why is your father involved with it? “I want to know what my father was experimenting for.”

“Heo was working under Crown orders with the Hwarang to create what are called ‘Furies’,” Namekawa’s voice is low as he speaks, gravelly with a seriousness that permeates into you. “Furies are humans with near supernatural strength and speed. They heal incredibly quickly as well.” 

“Furies?” The word lingers familiarly on your tongue, it takes a moment, but you realize you’d heard the word before. Soonyoung had tried to explain to you what they are on the night that Seungcheol had been injured last year. 

“The contents of the serum are called pimul,” Namekawa crosses his arm, tone still low, “in Tang they call it ‘al iksir’ and in Yamato it’s ‘ochimizu’. It’s meant to grant immortality.”

These words sound like some sort of fantastical fairytale than what’s meant to be real life. Yet, the seriousness of the doctor assures you that it isn’t a sick joke.

“I’ve heard of its healing and strength giving properties,” you nod, “but doesn’t it cause the drinker to go mad?” Recalling the night you had stumbled into Seorabeol and the nobles who’d been attacked by the rouge Hwarang furies causes you to shudder. “And even if that doesn’t drive you insane, the smell of blood can set you off too…”

A heaving sigh as Namekawa nods solemnly, moving then to pinch the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, “So you’re aware of that as well…” 

“Why was my father doing this?” You plead more than ask, trying to search the depths of your mind to reason with yourself and come to a believable situation that would’ve caused Heo Jinsang to work with such a vile creation. 

“That may have been why he left,” Namekawa suggests softly, “His morals would no longer allow him to work on such a thing.”

“And yet we were given the pimul by the Crown to help strengthen the Hwarang…” Youngmin frowns and looks towards the sidewalk.

“It was an experiment,” Namekawa shakes his head, “and it failed. It’s probably best to leave it behind, I’m sure the Crown has abandoned its ambition with it as well.”

The leader looks up and frowns at the doctor, probably unhappy to hear that Namekawa would question the Crown’s once official decision. 

“You’ve seen what it’s done to your men,” Namekawa insists, “It’s inhumane and you know it better than I do.”

Youngmin lets out a huff of air and then falls silent. You know that he knows how detrimental it is to his men, painfully so. Yet, the pimul was given to him on official orders and a secret request from the former King. 

“I understand that you’re one of the King’s doctors, yet…” A voice from behind after a moment of silence. Your eyes widen at the sight of Seungcheol in the daylight, knowing that the sun’s rays have an adverse effect on him. “You’re not a member of the Hwarang, you have no right to object to our methods.” His face paling in the light, lost of all color, almost as if he were a walking corpse. 

“Are you okay walking around like this?” You ask him quietly, your voice teetering on worry and a whisper. 

“You look pale, Seungcheol,” Youngmin frowns at the colonel, “You should be resting.”

“Don’t mind me,” Seungcheol shakes his head and then turns to the doctor. “We use the serum effectively and at our own discretion.” His gaze hardens when they lock eyes, his voice becoming gravely serious, almost as if he’s been offended.

“It’s far too dangerous to—” Namekawa begins before being interrupted by Seungcheol.

“We have and will continue to work on Heo’s research.” His voice, behind the veneer of quiet anger, sounds weakened. “I am living proof of its effectiveness.” 

“You may be right,” Namekawa cedes before raising another point, “But that doesn’t mean you’re not forcing your body in ways unseen with the eye.”

“I’m perfectly healthy,” Seungcheol insists, “With continued research and alterations to the serum, we’ll have less casualties and more success.” 

“And are you planning on sacrificing your men for your success?” Namekawa frowns, “These men aren’t just common folk, many are the sons of nobles, aristocrats! Sons who will be missed should they just disappear.”

“It’s not as if we’re force feeding them pimul.” Seungcheol’s agitated at the doctor, you don’t know the last time he was able to see his own family since becoming a Fury. “The men who devote and give their lives to the Hwarang are the foundation of my work, they did not and will not die in vain.”

“But—”

“I think that’s enough,” Youngmin steps in before the doctor can say anything else, “from either of you. Let’s discuss this at another time.”

To you it seems that neither Seungcheol or Namekawa would ever come to a civil agreement on the ethics of the serum’s usage. But that was an opinion you feel is best not said at this moment. 

The anger in Seungcheol’s face subsides, and the corner of his mouth turns up into a smile before he bows and leaves the three of you wordlessly. 

“So…” Youngmin says as Seungcheol recedes back into the headquarters inner buildings, “How did exams go?”

“About that,” Namekawa begins, “It’s a bit troubling.”

“Troubling?” Youngmin asks, confused, “What do you mean by that?”

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean’?” Namekawa frowns, “The amount of injured and ill men you have is nearly a quarter of your forces!”

“That’s—” Youngmin’s voice catches in his throat, “Are you sure?”

“I am not only sure, but it is the definite truth,” A disparaging shake of his head, “What have you been doing to these men? Cuts, lacerations, bowel pains… Need I mention the lice?”

“I’m embarrassed to hear that, I really am,” Youngmin looks as such, his ears pink as he drops his shoulders. “What can I do?”

“Set aside a space for the ill and those needing medical attention, for starters. I can send some pyrethrum powder for the lice,” Namekawa lists off and you can see Youngmin mentally making a list, “Second, this place needs to be cleaned. I can’t help you otherwise.”

“Of course,” Youngmin nods, the tinge of embarrassment still riding his tone, “I’ll have everything seen to immediately.” 

And so, the Hwarang are ordered to clean. Those who are able-bodied enough to hold a broom or a rag are sent to the main hall, Youngmin quickly barking out cleaning orders and sending them all over Bulguksa to thoroughly scrub the temple down.

“Why the hell are we doing this?” Junhui grumbles as he sits on his knees, scrubbing at the wooden floors. “I can think of nothing less I would want to be doing right now.”

“Stop complaining so much,” Mingyu sighs and calls him over, “Help me lift up this cabinet, it’s a great way to show off your muscles from earlier.”

You’re walking into the main hall with a bucket of water when you hear Soonyoung cry out, causing you to jump and spill some of the liquid onto the floor and your shoes.

“A RAT!” He nearly screeches, hopping behind Hansol when he spots the gray creature dart out from a bookcase. 

“Calm down Soonyoung,” Hansol looks as if he’s holding back a smile, trying to keep the reserved demeanor he usually has, “It’s not that bad. It actually looks like it’s eating that—is that dried up tteok?”

“Yeah!” Soonyoung says, leaning forward to get a look at the rat’s snack, “Who the hell hides their sweets back here?!”

A grumble from the other side of the room, you look over to see Kangjoon holding a boom, “Why are we bothering ourselves with work a servant should be doing? I’m a strategist, not a cleaner.”

“Why don’t you show us your school’s technique, then?” Mingyu scoffs, “You said it’s prized knowledge, maybe it can help us here.”

“Shut it!” Kangjoon says angrily, “The Pohang style wasn’t designed to help with housework!”

“You’re a little bit of a bully, huh, Mingyu?” Dongyoung snickers as he peeks out from behind one of the various shelves, “Those old-timey tactics of his wouldn’t even allow him to hold a broomstick, let alone make a dent in this mess.”

Kangjoon’s stare hardens at Dongyoung, “You should watch your mouth… Compared to the techniques from Tang it may be outdated, but I can assure you it still holds up.” 

“Oh,” Mingyu looks past Kangjoon and out one of the doorways, “Youngmin’s coming.”

“Chief!” Kangjoon spins on his heels towards the door, “Look at this, the room was so filthy you couldn’t even walk properly, and with my guidance it’s—” He stops once he realizes there’s no one standing in the doorway, “Where’s Kwak?”

“You’re an idiot,” Mingyu rolls his eyes.

“Damn you, Kim,” Kangjoon spits venomously, “You tricked me!”

“An idiot and a kiss ass,” Mingyu hums, “Quite the multitasker. Don’t you ever get tired being such a two-faced asshole, not knowing which mask to wear?” 

Kangjoon fumes and angrily stomps down towards the other end of the hall. You see this as an opportunity to proclaim your findings.

“I brought you all some fresh rags and water to help you clean the floor with,” you announce, holding out the bucket and handful of cloth to the captains.

“Thanks!” Soonyoung says as he bounds over, swiftly taking the items from your grasp and heading back to his work station. 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 21𝔰𝔱, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “This looks to be adequate enough,” Namekawa Yasuo had arrived early the next morning to check the cleanliness of the headquarters. He now stands in the main hall, a look of approval on his features as he notes the sheen of the floorboards. 

“Right?” Junhui beams, “See? The doc can acknowledge my hard work.”

Kangjoon lets out something of a guffaw at the statement, “Compared to the nuances of strategy, it’s not like tidying up is a magnificent feat or anything.”

“All you did was complain,” Junhui frowns.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung nods, “And Seungkwan got to rest all day! Sounds like he was getting special treatment while we worked our asses off.”

“Not my fault,” Seungkwan raises his hands to show he’s innocent from that decision, “Jihoon’s the one being overprotective.” 

“It is your fault,” Jihoon snaps at him, arms crossing over his chest, “You’re not taking care of yourself, that’s why you’re coughing up a lung.”

“I will admit,” Hansol say, looking around the space, “It is nice seeing the headquarters put together.”

“It does look different,” Jihoon nods, also taking a moment to admire the cleanliness of the main hall, “I hope to keep it this way.”

“Then we should clean every day,” Mingyu laughs aloud.

“Great idea! Make sure you scrub the baseboards Soonie,” Junhui jokes along with the other while Soonyoung’s eyes go wide.

“But you’ve got the most energy and the biggest muscles, Junhui! Don’t think I’m letting you slide on this,” the younger argues to the two others. 

“I’ll help you,” you offer with a smile, knowing that he’d need it.

“Really?” He perks up, “Yeah, we don’t need them anyway, you and me against the world!”

“Hold on,” Junhui interrupts, “I didn’t say that I wasn’t going to help…” 

Jihoon lets out a laugh, “Wen, there’s some trash over there, mind taking it out?”

“Hooold on, we’re not starting until tomorrow, right, Soonyoung?” Junhui looks to him for help.

“If you keep flailing your arms like that you’re only going to stir up more dust,” Hansol sighs as he watches Junhui scramble to big up the assorted pieces of garbage. 

You laugh at the scene until something catches your eye, you spot both Namekawa and Seungkwan duck out of the room and head outside. Brow furrowing for a moment, you think to follow after them but stop yourself as it isn’t any of your concern.

After the ruckus in the main hall dies down, you grab a broom and head outside to sweep away fallen debris from the walkway leading to the main hall. You’ve just started to sweep the broom across the agate stone when a figure appears before you.

Head turning up from looking down at the azalea embroidered robes, all you can spurt out is a “You!” before taking a step back. 

“You’ve got ancient blood running through your veins and yet you clean up after these humans?” Jisoo sounds saddened on the verge of disgust as he looks at you. 

“What are you doing here?” You question as the grip you have on the broom handle tightens as he chuckles at you.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to fight me with that?” He shakes his head, biting back a laugh, “Was your family not blessed with brains?”

You don’t respond, instead look around for anything or anyone who could help you. Of course, the entrance lies empty, all of the captains still squabbling somewhere deep in the compound.

“Calm down,” Jisoo sighs, his laughter ceasing, “I’m not here to fight today. I only want to know what, if anything, you have to do with Heo Jinsang.”

Stunned by his statement, your lips part in shock, “My father?”

“…Father?” Jisoo looks surprised by your answer, “Heo Jinsang is your father?”

“Yes,” you nod, “he is.”

The man seems shocked at first, then that emotion melts away as it looks as if he’s putting the pieces of a puzzle together. He opens his mouth to say something else but a voice behind you stops him.

“Sneaking into your enemy’s base alone?” Jihoon’s voice rings out as his footsteps approach, the sound of dirt under foot crunching growing nearer and nearer. “I thought you’d be smarter than that.”

A few other pairs of footsteps and you turn and see him flanked by both Mingyu and Soonyoung.

“In broad daylight too,” Mingyu shakes his head at the intruder, “Figures.”

“Get away from her!” Soonyoung’s more than a little adamant, his hand already hovering over his sword. 

“The Hwarang only come in bushels, huh?” Jisoo says, seemingly wanting to egg the men on.

“Watch it,” Jihoon says sternly, the tension between the two becoming more palpable by the second. 

Surprisingly, it’s Jisoo who tries to sate it. “If you want to fight, then I’ll be happy to do so… But I’m here for other reasons, more specifically, to issue a warning.” His eyes grow dark and his tone more serious at his next statement, “Stop trying to turn humans into Demons.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jihoon frowns as he watches the other carefully.

“What makes you think that we’re going to listen to you?” Mingyu pokes at Jisoo.

“You’re all idiots,” Jisoo shakes his head warily, “Can’t you see that I’m trying to help you?” He rolls his eyes, “Forget it, it was useless trying to say anything to you.”

“This is our base,” Soonyoung raises his voice, “You should shut up before we decide to do something about you being here.”

Jisoo ignores the captain’s words and turns to you, a coldness in his eyes as he speaks, “Heo is with us now, don’t you understand what that means?” He searches your eyes for a spark of recognition, but it doesn’t seem to click so he elaborates further, “Your father has abandoned the Crown.”

“What…?” You say, still puzzled by what he means. 

“Why are you here?” A cold smile to match his gaze creeps onto his lips, “I think you should ponder on that. Carefully.” With that final statement he turns on his heels and seems to disappear into the shadows. You’re not sure if he just did, your mind too caught up in what he just said. 

What or who were the Demons? Your father is with them? You thought Hong Jisoo’s family to be just opposing the opposite side of the court that favored the Hwarang, was it a ruse and he’s actually some sort of revivalist? Does this mean that your father is working with them?

Who are these people that call themselves ‘Demons’? And what do they want with you? 

“Who are they?” You look at Jihoon, “The Demons?”

“After fighting them, I can say that they’re not like any human I’ve ever fought,” a shake of his head, “Not even close. I’ve fought against people from each kingdom but none of them… They’ve never been that powerful.” He muses for a moment and nods, “I’d say ‘demon’ is a pretty accurate descriptor.” 

“If the commander thinks they’re demons, they really just might be,” Mingyu says, his brow furrowing at Jihoon. 

“He is the Hwarang’s Demon, after all,” Soonyoung notes, the same concern from Mingyu’s tone riding in his. 

“This is serious,” Jihoon looks at them, trying to quell the playful argument. You feel the tension in your shoulders ease after a while, the dread of seeing Jisoo on familiar ground eventually dissipating as the moments pass. With his arrival, and how easy it was for him to come unexpectedly, you’re sure that you’ll have to have a higher guard now as you walk the headquarters. 

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 7𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Compared to the year before, it seems as if the Hwarang aren’t being called on to do as much. Both the raid on Wonweol and the attack on Ongsan seem like a distant memory as you look up at your ceiling from your bed. In a way, you’re thankful for the peace wrought on by this year. It’s allowed you to take up looking for your father again and help more around the temple. The night rolling in and covering your room in a shroud of darkness, the sound of the crickets outside chirping away keeping you awake. 

You push yourself from your bedding and rise to your feet, maybe a walk would help you become sleepy. Right now, you are anything but tired.

Treading quietly across the floor, you open your door, the hinges creaking as you push it open. The halls are quiet as you trapeze through them, in some rooms you can hear loud snoring, in others, nothing at all. You don’t catch sight of anyone until you reach the end of the hall that opens into a courtyard, a figure standing in the shadows as they look up towards the sky. 

As you edge nearer to the greenery, you can see that it’s the commander, standing still as the moonlight cascades down onto him. His foot taps in subtle anxiousness, as if he’s waiting for someone. 

This isn’t something for you to see, but a quickening curiosity takes over you as another figure approaches the commander from the other end of the courtyard.

“I’m sorry for asking you to come out so late, Jihoon,” Seungcheol’s quiet voice rings out through the nearly empty space. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jihoon turns from gazing up at the stars and looks to his friend with a small smile, “It’s a little difficult to talk during the day.”

You’ve lost all chance to either leave or inject yourself into the conversation, so you just stand and watch their conversation unfold before you. 

“How are you doing?” Jihoon asks, his once soft gaze hardening with concern, “Don’t bullshit me, I’ve barely seen you since you went to Hwangnyongsa.”

Seungcheol merely smiles softly, “I’m feeling alright since the sun’s down. If I was going to complain I’d talk about the heat or humidity.”

“I know you don’t like the sun,” The commander notes, “and everybody hates the humidity and heat. But you know what I’m asking, Seungcheol.”

“Are you asking if I’ve gone mad?” The colonel asks simply, his brow raising. “If you’re worried about me, I’ll let you know that I don’t regret taking the pimul; I’ve regained the use of my arm, I’m able to carry a sword when I thought I’d never do so again.”

 Seungcheol’s smile doesn’t seem to be the answer that Jihoon is looking for, and a frown overtakes him. “At what cost, though?” His voice low as he asks, pressing further, “When you become a Fury, you lose a part of yourself… Maybe even too much. I’m sorry if I’m not taking this lightly, I’m worried about you.”

“You’ve always worried too much, Jihoon,” Seungcheol says, brows knitting together as he cannot fully understand his friend’s concern. “This was a gift, a miracle, even!”

“One man’s miracle is another’s curse,” Jihoon sighs out with a scowl, “I don’t like the monkey’s paw aspect of it.”

“How scary!” Seungcheol chuckles, “I’d be a fool if I ignored one of your famed hunches.”

“You’d be a fool if you joked about this,” the scowl still present as Jihoon crosses his arms, “I’m not trying to be funny.” His fingers tap along his robes as he shakes his head, “You should be standing side by side with Youngmin and me, you’re a colonel, our colonel.” 

“You’re acting odd,” Seungcheol’s lighthearted tone vacating, “Are you okay?” He suddenly looks over to you, locking eyes with yours as a small smile dances along his lips.

Jihoon follows his line of sight and catches you eavesdropping into their conversation. “What are you doing out here?!” He questions as you panic in place. 

“I’m sorry,” breaking your gaze with Seungcheol you look to the ground, “I wasn’t sure if I should say something and then the two of you began talking…” 

“You’ve got more important things to worry about than me, Jihoon,” Seungcheol sighs out and looks at the commander. “Gongmyung and his men, for starters. I’ve heard he’s been acting stranger than usual these days.”

“I’ve been working on that,” Jihoon relents, dropping his arms to let them fall to his sides. 

Seungcheol nods, a gleam of satisfaction in his eye before he gives you a simple nod and walks away into the depths of the compound. You’re about to return to your quarters before Jihoon calls out to you.

“I haven’t dismissed you yet,” he says as you begin to turn. You freeze in place only to turn to face him fully once more. “I know you’re not an idiot so you shouldn’t act like one.” His voice is low, almost a whisper as he doesn’t wish for anyone to overhear him, “The more you know about us, the more danger you’re putting in front of yourself. It’s easy to die around here, you’ve seen that… Do you understand?”

“I’m sorry for imp—” you begin before he cuts you off, raising his voice.

“Don’t be sorry,” his head shakes, “Just be careful and stay out of trouble.” When it seems like he has nothing more to say, he raised a hand to the bridge of his nose and pinches it, quelling some sort of thought before he turns of his heels and begins to walk back towards his room. 

“Commander,” you find yourself calling out. Jihoon looks so… dejected and lonely after his talk with Seungcheol, you have to say something. “Can I help with the research?”

“What the hell?” You hear him say before he turns to look back at you, “Of course not.”

“I don’t have my father’s knowledge or expertise… but I want to do something to help,” you insist, feeling responsible as if your absent father’s duties had been passed to you. “I can read his notes and help explain them, he left a lot of research material at his clinic in Toehwa-hyeon… There’s got to be something useful there. I can find something to help.”

“Heo continued his research here, don’t you know that?” Jihoon takes a deep breath as to not fume so much, “Even if we tore his clinic down to the foundations to get any scrap of information, the chances that we’ll find some new research is slim to none.” 

“I can do my own research!” You push, hands clenching at your sides.

“You’re not thinking about this hard enough,” His gaze hardens, “Could you accept responsibility for things if they go south?” A sigh as he sees you begin to stumble and scramble for words, “Look, your father’s one of the top doctors in the kingdom with the knowledge of Tang medicine. He couldn’t figure that shit out. Someone like your or me with no outstanding medical knowledge isn’t going to do much better.”

Jihoon’s right and you know it, even if you don’t want to admit your faulty thinking. It’s highly ambitious of you to think that you could find a cure-all to the pimul and what your father had done to the Hwarang. As you look to Jihoon, you try and look as stoic and unbothered as possible to stop him from seeing how heartbroken you feel.

His mouth turns into a wry smile at your attempt, “You want to help and that’s what’s important. I won’t forget that.” Jihoon nods his head to show appreciation, “But you have to wait for now. The Hwarang dug themselves into this hole so that means we have to find a way out.” 

Even if his demeanor is cold most of the time, there’s a hidden sincerity behind that face that only peeks through sometimes.

“I get it,” he continues, “your father was a part of the research team and you feel responsible, right? We’re still looking for him, and either we find him, or we don’t, you’ll just have to wait.” When you continue to silently object him, he frowns a bit, “Furies are bad news, in a perfect world we would’ve never gotten involved. But this world is far from it, and they might be our advantage should Goguryeo try and help those revivalists. Only as a last resort though, the cost is still too high.”

A shake of his head, “Never mind that now, though. This is between you and me though, okay?” His words hold the same tinge of threat that you’d heard on several occasions before. You nod almost out of habit at this point. “Also, the next time you take a stroll, be more cautious of who and what you may be stumbling in on.”