#joocomics.wips

“Why do you never take me to parties with you?” You ask your step brother, leaning against the doorframe.

You watch him roll the sleeves of his shirt with precision you’ve never seen in him. He’s in a bodyguard costume - which is really just Jiseok in better fitting black clothes.

He doesn’t look up. He just adjusts the cuffs, then pauses to check his reflection, exhaling a theathrical sigh. “Because,” his voice drops into that familiar dissmisive drawl, “you’re boring like a nun.”

He nudges your shoulder as he brushes past you, wearing the same infuriatingly effortless charm he always puts on when he’s about to get under your skin.

Normally, you’d follow after him, throwing a sarcastic remark just to keep the back and forth going. But not this time.

On the couch, Jooyeon - dressed in full Ghostface attire - is slouched so low he’s practically part of the furniture, lazily tapping at his phone. You let out a dry, hollow laugh and fold your arms across your chest.

“You think I’m going to spend the night seeking your attention?” you call after him. “Because I won’t. I’ll find plenty of people actually worth my time.”

Jiseok narrows his eyes. “Anyone I know?”

“Maybe,” you purr, finally stepping into the room, gaze scanning his outfit. “So, this is the big Halloween costume? You’re going as… yourself?”

“A bodyguard,” he corrects you flatly.

“How creative. I’m sure everyone will be thrilled to see you in all black again.”

“Not everyone needs blood and glitter to look interesting.”

“Oh, please.” You grin. “You picked that costume just to get the girls to throw themselves at you, asking for your protetection all night. A bit obvious, don’t you think?”

“It’s strategic,” Jiseok shoots back, aching a brow.

Jooyeon snorts from the couch, his voice muffled by the mask. “Strategic… that’s one word for it.”

You roll your eyes to dismiss him and turn back to Jiseok. “Admit it. You don’t want your new stepsister to ruin your precious reputation.”

Not only that - you know the other, bigger reason he wants you nowhere near him. He hates the fact you’re his forbidden fantasy.

For context, you and Jiseok were already making each other’s lives miserable even before you were forced under the same roof. While you were in the same class for years, you shared a mutual, spoken loathing. Always circling each other with sharp glares, competing in math, turning every group project into a battlefield - it didn’t help that your friends hated his friends and vice versa.

But today, you can see it clear as day - he’s losing the upper hand. Today, he’s no longer seeing the girl he argued with during chemistry, he sees a girl who awakens his dirty imagination, and that's eating him alive. You’ve witnessed him watching you when he thinks you aren’t looking so many times now; with conflicted hunger in his eyes that he tries to cover up with sarcasm.

Jiseok stares at you for a moment, wordless, jaw tensing. There’s a dark storm clouding his eyes.

But Jooyeon fills the silence first. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. Though his tone is distorted by the plastic, it’s still very familiar, with a playful ring to it. “Hey, stepsis. Come here.”

When you settle beside him on the couch, he leans back again manspreading leisurely as if he owns the entire cushion. You’ve noticed this is his default sitting position, but you half-expected him to shift for you. Instead, his knee begins bouncing rhythmically, his leg brushing against yours with every vibration.

“Listen,” he starts, “if you want to go, just go. You don’t need his permission. You’re a big girl.”

“Hey,” Jiseok snaps. “Which side are you on?”

You ignore him, focusing on Jooyeon. A small calculated smile tugs at your lips. There’s always been something about Jooyeon’s casual chaos that you liked; about his sharp appearance and the way he never seems to take anything seriously. So, it’s a perfectly normal reaction to feel a little flutter when his attention is on you.

“You know, you’re right.” you chirp, suddenly feeling determined. You thank him with a grin, then turn to your step brother. “I’m going with or without you.”

Jooyeon grins next; beneath his mask. “Attagirl.”

You imagine walking into the party with Ghostface’s hand on your lower back. Around your waist. People will talk.

Maybe, then… finally, your crush will make a move.

Your lips curl prettily. “Maybe you should be my date?” you ask, resting a hand on his thigh.

Jooyeon’s posture shifts, his voice smoothing out as he responds: “I’d love that, doll.”

Before either of you can do anything else - your entire body goes rigid. Your breath hitches and stays there, trapped in your lungs. Your eyes are locked forward.

“Hey,” Jooyeon waves a hand in front of your face, puzzled by your still form. “What happened?” he questions.

You don’t answer, your lips are unmovable. I’s like you suddenly disconnected.

He looks over his shoulder, then back to you, snapping his fingers by your ear. Nothing.

“What’s wrong with her?” He questions again, turning to Jiseok this time.

Jiseok doesn’t look worried, though. He sighs, and the sound slips out blissful. He holds up a small, sleek black remote, tossing it casually in the air and catching it.

“She’s fine.” He says, indifferent, like this isn’t the first time he’s seen you like this. “I just put her on pause. She was getting on my nerves.” He groans, tilting his head back. “God, she’s exhausting! Why did you have to invite her?”

Jooyeon stares at you, then at the strange device, then back at you. “You mean… that thing made her freeze?”

His friend simply nods. “Yeah, pretty neat, right?”

to be continued… please, look forward to the full story!

MASTERLIST || JOIN MY TAGLIST

The noise of students fades behind you as the two of you push through the heavy doors, stepping into the whitened street. The wind slices through the air, brushing your cheeks, cold and crisp.

“So,” he draws out the word casually, “you had fun last night?”

“Mhm, yeah.” Your pulse lifts at the question as you pull your coat tighter. “The party was fine.”

“I saw you with someone,” he continues, watching the path ahead. “Didn’t know you were… branching out.”

You freeze mid-step. Just when he adds, still with that light, nonchalant tone that’s meant to be teasing, but only lands wrong:

“You make friends faster than I thought.”

Slowly, you turn to him, expression cooling by the second.

“Seriously?” you say, voice quiet but sharp enough to make his expression falter. “You of all people?”

His brows furrow; confusion or irritation it’s hard to tell. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re judging me,” you mutter incredulous. “You can sleep with whoever you want, every night cause that’s your thing apparently, but I kiss one guy, one, and you—”

Seungmin stops you with a tight jaw and a low, clipped: “I didn’t say it like that.”

“No, you did say it like that.”

He exhales hard through his nose, lifting his shoulders in a shrug so carefully neutral it feels like a slap in the face. “You can do whatever you want,” he says evenly. “You can flirt and kiss whoever you want. I was just making a conversation.”

“Right,” you scoff. “Because it’s totally okay for you to comment on who I flirt with.”

You turn before the frustration spills completely out of you, boots scuffing along the thin layer of snow as your steps quicken.

Behind you, he exhales, heavier this time. “Look, I didn’t mean it like that! Why are you getting mad?”

You don’t slow down nor do you look back. “Happy holidays, Seungmin.” You mutter, indicating the conversation has come to an end.

He jogs to catch up, breath puffing out in pale clouds.

“You shouldn’t walk home alone,” he says, a protective note slipping into his tone discreetly. “It’s getting dark. Let me drive you.”

“I’m fine.” You reply flat.

“Come on,” he pushes, matching your stride. “You’re freezing. My car is parked right there, see?”

“Save it for your fanclub.”

Seungmin suddenly goes still, watching you walk away. He curses under his breath and heads for his car.

Moments later, the soft rumble of his engine curls into the quiet street. Headlights spill across your shadow, but you keep walking. You don’t even bother looking when he eases forward, matching the pace of the vehicle with yours.

The snowfall thickens faster than expected, gathering in your hair, biting at your cheeks. Your breath clouds the air in front of you, trembling slightly.

A single glance to your right, and you see Seungmin gripping the wheel with one hand, eyes fixed ahead like he’s pretending you’re not the only thing he’s focusing on. His puffer jacket is gone and you see a blue zip-up hoodie, sleeves pushed up enough to expose his foreams; his hands are faintly flushed from the cold.

The window slides down an inch, letting his voice escape. “Get in.”

Facing forward again, you refuse to give him that satisfaction. “No.”

“No?” he repeats steady. “You’d rather freeze your ass off?”

“Yes.”

He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh - as a reaction your heart flutters only causing you further annoyance.

“Stop bothering me.” You snap.

“Stop acting like a brat.” He fires back. “This is ridiculous.”

The car edges forward again, matching your stride with infuriating patience and determination.

Snowflakes melt against your lashes. Your nose stings. Your fingers ache. And Seungmin… he keeps driving slowly beside you in the dark, the headlights of his car painting your path with a glow.

At once, you stop - he stops too. Then, he speaks, softer but serious like you never heard him before.

“Just get in the car… please.” Not demanding nor pleading - he sounds simply tired from your entire conversation.

Finally, you turn toward him, shoes crunching through fresh snow as you go to open the door to the passenger seat. When you slip inside, you can’t stop the sigh of relief coming out through your cold lips. The heater hums quietly, warming the air in the small space nicely.

You click the seatbelt into place. Afterwards, neither of you speaks. A long silence drapes over the two of you, tense yet still somehow electric.

Eventually, you can’t bare it any longer. “Don’t follow me with your car again,” you murmur.

Seungmin’s mouth twists as he gazes ahead, fingers relaxing slightly on the wheel. “I won’t.”

to be continued… please, look forward to the full story!

— ♡ thank you for reading! and thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the support and excitement you’ve showed this fic! i’m so happy that after all this time, lights off still receives love. i hope that you like the updated version even more!!

sidenote: i’ve alwaysssss wanted to write a car scene like this teehee

Mornings at the bookstore always start the same way.

The soft click of the key turning in the lock, the bell ringing at your presence. The quiet shuffling of your feet across the wooden floors. The aroma of your first coffee for the day mingling with the faint scent of books. The quickening rhythm of the city slipping through the glass windows along with golden patches of sunlight where the packed shelves stand in neat towering rows.

It’s something you had grown used to, a comforting routine you cannot imagine unfolding in a different way.

You flip the bookstore’s sign to Open and take another sip of your coffee.

Just another day at work. Another day of unpacking books, arranging displays, and helping customers find the right story - nothing out of the ordinary. Those are your favorite activities to do.

And yet, your mind is drifting elsewhere.

More in particular, back to the day when a stranger, looking completely out of place among the books, wandered into the store. He didn’t stay long, but he stayed long enough to catch your attention; to make you want to take another secret glimpse of his unfamiliar face as you were dealing with two customers at the front desk.

He stayed long enough to leave an impression - and to make you immediately recognise him the second time he returned. Dark brown hair, slightly messy, but enhancing his attractiveness. Sharp, distinct face. Slim figure with broad shoulders. Bold flickering gaze. You can’t mistake him, even his aura makes the air inside the store shift the moment he walks in.

The first time he just walked around mindlessly; hands casually resting inside his pockets as he scanned the shelves, looking like someone who’s killing time than searching for a book. He didn’t pick up anything nor did he ask you questions.

The second time, he stood in front of the non-fiction section for a little bit longer. You tried to keep yourself busy, but every time his black leather jacket interrupted the silence with a muffled noise, your eyes flickered to his direction on the instant. Wanting to find out what led somebody like him here made you curious of every small movement of his. You continued to follow his figure discreetly until you were foolishly pretending to be completing tasks on the computer.

It was an innocent curiosity.

That’s what you keep telling yourself, but why did it felt like you got caught when he came up at the front desk that day, and told you the things he did? With hands still hidden in his pockets and head tilted to the side as if he was the one analysing you, not you - him.

You replay the conversation in your head, word for word, because you haven’t forgotten a single bit from it, and the same heat you felt in that moment rises to your face again.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask if I’m looking for a book?”

To be honest, you were surprised to hear such melodious voice. Perhaps, based on his sharp features and edgy clothes, you expected a more coarse tone, but eventually as you kept talking more, you realised it fits him perfectly.

“I… I thought you were in the middle of reading something so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“But you didn’t ask me the other day either.”

“I had customers who were purchasing books and you left too quickly.”

“Right, right, that makes sense. I was starting to think that I intimidate you.” He flashed his brows at you with intrigue. His expression remained casual as a flirtatious smirk settled subtly on his lips. “Or that you just like staring at me.”

“Keeping an eye on our customers while they’re browsing is a part of my job.”

After that response, his smile widened.

No other stranger has ever smiled at you so comfortably like that before.

Based on his body language as he stepped closer it seemed like he was entertained by your answers.

“When it comes to us… I think it’s me keeping an eye on you.”

You were at loss for words.

Keeping an eye on you? A guy like him? You like to think that you do possess a decent, acceptable amount of self-confidence, but one week later - you still can’t come up with a reason why he would be interested in someone like you.

You didn’t ask why. Instead, you tried to play it casual, dismissing his comment by asking if he was searching for a specific title or an author. That’s what he was waiting for, right?

He laughed - to which you weren’t surprised.

You know how to spot a reader; someone with passion for literature, someone who prefers getting lost in a fictional world rather than in the overwhelming reality.

He is not one of them.

Lee Jooyeon is not a reader.

Truthfully, you doubt he's ever held a book open for longer than two minutes in his life. He’s the type of person who prefers entirely different sensations - to be outside, lost in thick crowds, banging rock music, alcohol and smoke, places where things happen all at once and they happen loud.

He did not tell you all of that himself, but it’s not hard to guess.

On his third visit is when you learned his name. That’s when you also seen him last.

Lee Jooyeon - it suits his face perfectly just like the way his voice perfectly matches his lips.

“So why books?”

“I grew up a reader.” You slightly shrugged shoulders; to you that explains everything, but Jooyeon who was having a difficult time understanding you, was staring at you silently, expecting to hear more. “This is my favorite place to be.”

“Aren’t you too young to stay here all day? I thought only old people work in bookstores and libraries.”

To that, you chuckled, meanwhile, his expression remained the same - calm, as if he were merely stating an obvious fact rather than making conversation.

He was leaning against the front desk, elbows resting on the wood, his body tilted just enough to bring him closer. Close enough that you could see the sharp angles of his face - the strong cut of his jawline, the high curve of his cheekbones, and the sensual shape of his lips as they moved; close enough that you found yourself staring a little too often.

You remember the adrenaline rush tightening in your stomach from the closeness so clearly, it’s still lingering. It wasn’t fear, nor discomfort, just an unfamiliar thrill that caught you off guard. But you didn’t pull back. Nothing was stopping you from doing it, you simply didn’t mind.

You’re just not used to feeling like this… like you’re standing at the edge of something unpredictable, something a little reckless. You’re not the kind of person who seeks out such adrenaline rushes.

“I don’t know, it’s too quiet.” Jooyeon murmured after a brief pause - a pause that had you struggling to look away from him; at that moment his eyes were fixed on the glass door, watching the people walking by on the street. “Time must pass too damn slowly here. I’d hate it.”

And that’s when you knew for sure.

He is the opposite side of the coin.

After that, you finally asked him what he did for a living. He said he worked at a bar but didn’t mention which one. You could have pressed for details, but you didn’t. Not because you weren’t curious, but because you didn’t want to seem noisy, like the type to show up unannounced, to dig too deep into a life he wasn’t quite willing to share yet. So instead, you shifted the subject, asking him how he spent his free time - something easy, something casual. Pretty much, the things he already knows about you, - but he didn’t really respond to that either, not directly, anyway.

Once again, he brought the focus back on you without you even realising it. Eventually, you’ll notice he does that a lot.

“Depends,” his voice was thoughtful as something darker was dancing in his eyes, “I’d like to spend some of it with you though.”

Your breath caught for a split second.

“Here?”

A smirk, that at this point, was getting familiar to you, creeped onto his lips as he shrugged shoulders. But his voice sounded serious as he said:

“As long as the cameras don’t catch us.”

It must’ve been written all over your face - how caught off guard you were, how you struggled to form a response. You didn’t want to push him away, but you didn’t know how to handle someone like him either; someone who said things so boldly, so effortlessly, making you question whether he was serious or simply teasing. And last, but not least - because you refuse to disobey the rules and ethics of your job.

Before you could answer, the bell above the door chimed, and a customer walked in.

Undeniably, you were relieved.

Of course, Jooyeon noticed. The smirk appeared again.

“Maybe next time.”

That’s what he said before leaving - the day you learned each other’s names. Exactly five days ago.

And now?

Now, you can’t stop looking at the door.

No matter what task you’re trying to complete - sorting through deliveries, rearranging shelves, wiping down the counter, - you find yourself glancing up at the entrance. Just like you did yesterday.

And the day before that.

You silently slide into the passenger seat. He doesn't look at you, just starts the engine and pulls into traffic like this is some sort of a continuation of your drive around town date.

The streets start to blur, familiar ones. He’s driving towards your place. Of course he is. He wouldn’t want to complicate things further by taking you on another date.

After a stretch of silence, he speaks first.

“How was your day?”

His voice is laced with tension - not too much, just enough for you to recognise it; it’s a similar kind of tension that you heard from him the day he met Jiseok.

You turn your head slowly, watching him, unsure if you want to scream or laugh. You turn back around, fidgeting with the keys.

You don’t answer right away, you let the question hang between you, allowing it to enrage you with its normalcy - the normalcy he’s trying so hard to force.

“Busy,” you reply, “they’re closing the store.”

“What?” Jooyeon murmurs. His eyes flick to you, then back to the road. “Why would they do that?”

“They have other plans for the future,” you say, chewing on your lip.

“Bummer,” he sighs; he’s back to his usual self now. He’s back to Jooyeon who didn’t disappear for two days, Jooyeon who didn’t left you spiraling, overthinking every single action, every word you’ve ever said. “I’m sorry, I know you loved that place.”

“I called you few times.” You finally spit it out.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he brings a hand to his face, rubbing his chin; maybe that’s something he does when he’s nervous or when he’s lying. Time will tell. “Work got hectic. I was knocked out the entire weekend.”

He suppresses a laugh, then taps few times on the wheel as he approaches the traffic lights.

“So much that you couldn’t send me a single message for two days?” The words come out sharper than you intended.

A frown of disapproval settles on your face when you pierce his expression with your eyes.

Until he… snaps.

“I work at a night bar for god’s sake!” He raises his voice, cold; louder than you’ve ever heard it. Too focused on the road, he misses out on the way your startled body flinches next to him. “Do you think I hear my phone every time it rings?”

You go completely still. His frustration fills the space and the car suddenly feels smaller, like the air's been pulled out of it.

A moment of hesitation follows as you register his words, his change of behaviour; the thick shift in his tone. You force yourself to look away. Instead, you peer through the window, watching the streetlights sliding past one by one.

Anywhere but him.

When your time to response arrives, somehow, your voice remains calm. Sure, it does feel a little bit thinner, maybe shakier at the edges, but it’s still gentle.

“I’m not saying you should answer every time I call,” you say quietly, “but I do expect the person I’m trying to reach to call me back the next day. That’s all. It’s what people do.”

You did good - you said how you feel while keeping yourself composed. Now, all that’s left is to not burst in tears before you get home. You can’t let him see you cry. You don’t want to cry.

But you’re not sure how much longer you can hold it in. It’s just… everything’s been too much lately. It feels like everything you’ve been clinging to is slipping right through your fingers.

Jooyeon doesn’t speak, not until you’ve reached your apartment and he parks near the entrance.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he emits a sharp sigh, dragging both hands through his hair. “It’s been rough the last couple of days.”

That doesn’t make you feel any better.

It only makes you feel further frustrated with yourself because you crave to enter his world and take some of the weight off his shoulders. But how can you - when you don’t know where any of that weight is even coming from?

“I’m not sure what to do with that.” You admit after turning to look at him.

His mouth opens, then closes again, like every single excuse he can come up with is too hollow and stupid.

“It’s not that simple,” he mutters.

You can’t fight back the bitter smirk that forms on your lips. How can he not see it? It is simple… so, so simple. If only he lets you in...

You shift in your seat, arms crossed as your heart hammers, dangerously close to a heartbreak.

“Things have been crazy at work, and I just… I get in my head sometimes, okay? It’s not you.” He unbuckles his belt, turning like he wants to close the distance that’s still very much there. “Seeing you is the only thing I look forward to lately.”

Your heart twists at his words; at one of his hands coming in light contact with your face.

“Hey, look at me.” He coos, coaxing. You glance his way, reluctantly, and as a result he smiles - like that one look is completely enough. “Wanna come over at my place?” He asks softly, almost playfully. “I don’t have books, but I’ve got a killer vinyl collection. I’ll let you pick what we listen to.”

You offer a faint smile that doesn’t reaches your gloomy eyes.

“I’m tired. I’d like to go to bed early tonight.”

Jooyeon’s smile falters. You see the shift immediately - the quiet panic he tries to hide behind a casual laugh.

“Come on, baby,” he says, leaning in just slightly. “You don’t even have to stay long. Just… hang out for one drink. One song.”

In that moment, you realise how easily this cycle could keep happening. How quickly one simple apology can turn into another kiss, and how effortlessly that kiss can turn into another forgotten call, another fight, another sorry, until you finally make it stop and ask… where is this going? What are we?

Who are you?

“Please… I know I messed up. I know I should’ve called. Can I make it up to you?”

His voice goes quieter with each word, more raw. But it effectively reaches your heart. You can feel it slowly untangling that knot of pressure.

“Okay,” you exhale at once. “I’m picking the music, though.”

“Deal.” Jooyeon nods victoriously. Without wasting a second, he positions his hands on the steering wheel.

“Oh, almost forgot,” you murmur, unzipping the bag on your lap. You find it quickly as you tucked it into one of the little pockets inside so it doesn’t get lost again. “Your lighter.”

“No way, you found the little guy!” he cheers with a broad grin.

“Well, my boss did actually,” you admit. “Now she thinks I’m hiding that I smoke.”

“How scandalous.” Jooyeon teases, already driving down the empty street.

to be continued… please, look forward to the full story!

♡ taglist: @sweet-dreaming-girl @zelinkcrossing @raeisms @seomisaho @dear-h @kawaiislutt @certifiedmarkleetrash @lelestarmy @astro-doll-the-star @clairedamoon

You make sure to avoid two things - zombies, and Kim Jungsu.

The first is obvious and needs no explanation. The second… well, you’ve been dodging him long before the virus. Jungsu has been a problem since high school. For as long as you can remember he’s been smug and dishonest. Charming when it serves him, kind when it benefits him. Always surrounded by a pack of sycophants who laugh a little too hard at his jokes just so they can keep their spot in his popular circle.

Everyone knows he discards people the moment they stop being useful.

Back then, he made your weeks hell - always teasing, condescending. Guilt-tripping you to do his homework, to write his English essays (even when the topic was as simple as how did you spend summer break), forcing you to help him cheat during tests.

He never missed a chance to chime in whenever the other guys in your class made jokes at your expense. He didn’t need a reason - it was entertainment. It was funny to him how hard they were trying to impress him in all sorts of ways too.

And all of that, he did while wearing his trademark smile - soft and alluring. Because nothing he could say or do could be that big of a problem. You were just too sensitive.

Since the day you both set foot on campus, nothing about him has changed. You, due to countless sleepless nights and relentless studying, he - due to his father’s name.

You don’t see him as often anymore - college is way bigger, and your circles don’t have a reason to overlap, but you’ve run into him enough times to know he’s still the same.

The only thing that’s changed is that his mocking comes with a twist now - about how much you’ve blossomed; how hot you’ve become. And when you don’t thank him for the backhanded compliment, he frowns, of course.

As if he’s making you a favour by noticing the changes in your appearance.

Maybe if he had called you pretty or hot few years ago, you would’ve thanked him. You’re almost sure of it. Even though he gave you a hard time, your crush never really faded, not completely. Just like many other students in your school, you were swooning over his charming looks too.

In the beginning, you liked him so much that you fooled yourself into thinking that his behaviour was just a cover for something else - that maybe he secretly liked you too. After all, wasn’t that what moms always used to say? If a boy teases you or pulls your hair, it means he likes you.

For a while, you believed it. But eventually you saw it for what it was, and you knew that the best thing to do was to stay away.

You’ve always done your best in avoiding Kim Jungsu.

But for some reason, the universe insists on shoving him back into your life.

Even now, as you’re trapped in an abandoned lecture hall, waiting for your death. Because, let’s be honest - you don’t exactly have the skills to survive in a time like this.

Luckily, at least you weren’t alone. You had crossed paths with this freshman with whom you managed to take shifts keeping watch through the nights.

But if you had known that this exact freshman would be the reason behind Jungsu crashing back into your life, you would’ve made a different choice than trusting him.