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yoongiseesawmp3 · 3 years

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just about perfect - seonghwa

howdy folks, back with another fic but i’m switching it up on ya! i might start writing regularly for ateez as well so y’all are cool with that right? right.

summary: this is NOT inspired by seonghwa saying he watches nevertheless. why would you even think that.

warnings: not the kind of warning u were expecting but there’s no smut (i know its based off a show abt friends with benefits so that’s why i’m warning u. do not get ur hopes up) a little cussing, a lotta me waxing poetic abt the perfect man park seonghwa. also slight tomfoolery from the teezers

word count: 10.6k

the bookstore just off campus is your current go-to study spot, mostly because the cafe inside has a drink special where you buy one coffee and get a voucher for the new bakery next door. so, let’s just say the past few days you’ve been well caffeinated and well fed. you’re on the way there now, already planning out what your treats are going to be.

today you were supposed to meet your “study group” after your last class of the day, but it looks like you’re the only one here so far. and you say “study group” loosely, the professor for your music theory elective encouraged everyone to make a study group for the upcoming final and your group of friends chose to work together. there’s been no studying going on, though.

especially not when hongjoong’s new friend seonghwa has been flirting with you literally nonstop. he’s apparently friends with everyone else in your group too. san knows him from an art class they took together last semester, meanwhile wooyoung and yeosang claim they lived on seonghwa’s floor freshman year and he always bought them booze. seonghwa denies it, only because hongjoong would slap him if he admitted to buying alcohol for underage kids.

tasteful delinquency aside, seonghwa is a fine person. you mean personality fine, not like, fine fine even though san would beg to differ. he knows you’ve developed a thing for seonghwa despite trying not to, and he’s secretly trying to get you two together.

which is why san suddenly texts you and says he can’t make it, and neither can yeosang or wooyoung. they decided to ditch studying to practice for the final in their dance class instead, so it’ll be just you, seonghwa and hongjoong. and little did you know, hongjoong was trying to do the same thing as san. so we’ll see how this goes.

“y/n, you can’t do that,” hongjoong warns you, referring to the scale you were trying to fill out.

“why not?” you ask, looking down at your work and wondering what’s wrong.

“because it’ll sound like shit,” seonghwa replies before sipping his coffee.

“what he said,” hongjoong agrees, grabbing your paper and erasing some of the notes you had scribbled out. “it should look more like this.”

you glance over at what he’s done on top of your old work and sigh. you took this class because you like music, and you thought learning about how it works would be interesting, but it’s hard.

“can’t you just do all my work for me?” you plead. at this rate, you don’t think you’ll be able to pass the final.

“no, i don’t want you dragging me down in this class,” hongjoong replies. “my grades are great.”

“i hate you.”

“what are you struggling with, y/n?” seonghwa asks as he finally looks up from his laptop. he had been working on an assignment for another class this whole time because he, like hongjoong, is great with music theory. so maybe this study group was a good thing.

“here, you can switch seats with me,” hongjoong says as he clears the spot next to you on the weathered loveseat. “i’m going to look for a book i should’ve started reading two weeks ago.”

before you can protest, seonghwa is sliding his laptop across the coffeetable and slides himself into the spot next to you. when he sits you notice your thighs are touching, which is weird because there was plenty of space when hongjoong was here. you don’t know that seonghwa is doing this on purpose, that hongjoon really left so he could flirt with the cute cashier in the cafe to give you and seonghwa some alone time.

“so,” seonghwa starts once he’s settled. “what are you struggling with?”

“hmm, all of it?” you reply. your answer makes seonghwa smile, and you like the way his eyes sparkle when he does.

“then i guess we’ll be here a while.”

about an hour later, seonghwa has walked you through all the major and minor scales you need to know for the test and you’re starting to understand a little more. you’re still having problems with the back of the study guide where you have to come up with note combinations that can apply to those scales, but you have time to work on that since the final is two weeks out. right now, your brain is fried and you need a break.

“do you mind if i go get a coffee?” you ask seonghwa, who was in the middle of sending you the minor scale cheat sheet he made. he looks up from his laptop and shakes his head before he speaks.

“i would only mind if i can’t come with you.”

“it’s literally right over there, why do you need to come with me?” you question.

“i think i would just miss you too much,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes. seonghwa shuts his laptop and stands up. “what if i need coffee too?”

“you already had one,” you remind him as you stand.

“yeah,” he nods. “but teaching you is exhausting, so i need another. c’mon.”

he walks ahead of you to the counter, and you’re too busy searching for your wallet to notice he took his jacket off, revealing a sneaky tattoo on the back of his neck. it isn’t until you’re behind him in line that you get a look at the hand drawn star right on the nape of his neck, and you have to refrain from reaching out to trace the lines.

“i didn’t know you had a tattoo,” you decide to say. he turns around and instinctively rubs his hand across the tattoo, smiling at you with those sparkly eyes again.

“yeah, i have a couple,” he replies. “but this one is my favorite.”

“why?”

“because my name means ‘to become a star’, so i like knowing that i have a reminder with me all the time,” he explains.

“nice. it’s really pretty.”

“thanks, so are you.”

“sir?” the barista calls, pulling seonghwa’s attention from you. he steps up to give his order as you stare at the tattoo again, noticing alongside it a couple of freckles that almost make it look like a constellation.

“y/n?” seonghwa’s voice draws you out of your thoughts and you realize he’s finished ordering. “what do you want?”

“oh, i can get it,” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“no, my treat,” he insists, and you sheepishly walk up to the counter to give your order. seonghwa makes a mental note of what you get, and he also snatches the bakery voucher from you before you can put it in your pocket. you make a confused sound and seonghwa laughs.

“why’d you do that?” you whine.

“you only get to use it if you come with me to the bakery later,” he teases. “say yes or i’m drinking your coffee and getting myself an extra cupcake.”

“fine,” you huff. “but i have an assignment due at midnight, so i can’t stay long.”

“it’s 4pm, that’s not enough time for you to finish it?” he asks while you step out of the way for the next customers.

“i haven’t started yet,” you admit.

“you like saving things until the last minute, don’t you?”

“what makes you say that?”

“well, it looks like you haven’t been studying music theory at all, and now this,” he shrugs.

“not everybody can be perfect like you, park seonghwa,” you grumble as the barista places two coffee cups on the bar. you hear seonghwa giggle shortly, and you give him a questioning look.

“so you think i’m perfect?” he smirks.

it’s the next day, almost midnight, and you really need spray paint.

why? well, you’re stressed because you have so much to study for your finals and you don’t know where to start. yes, seonghwa helped yesterday, but he’s not in all your other classes, so you’ve decided you need a break from tearing your hair out over the material you can’t comprehend. the best way to distract yourself from that is to finally paint that dresser you got from a garage sale a few months ago, hence the spray paint.

thankfully, san is still awake, and he has a car, so you ask him to pick you up for a quick run to the art supply store that’s surprisingly still open. a bonus of going to college in the city, you can get anything almost whenever you need it.

“thanks for coming to get me,” you tell san as you hop into his car.

“no problem,” he replies. “i was bored and hongjoong said he needed paint pens so this is a win-win situation. plus, i get to hear about your date with seonghwa yesterday.”

“it was not a date,” you groan, choosing to ignore the suggestive way san is looking at you right now.

“but you spent the whole afternoon together,” san starts. “he bought you coffee and you went to the bakery together and talked about, like, your favorite colors and stuff. sounds like a date to me.”

“how do you know all that?”

“seonghwa told hongjoong and then hongjoong told me,” he explains as he turns onto the street that’ll take you to the art store.

“well tell hongjoong that i’m still mad at him for ditching us,” you reply. “and i’m still kinda mad at you and the other two for bailing in the first place.”

“hey, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had your first date with seonghwa,” san points out.

“it was not a date!” you cry. “we studied most of the time we were together, then he bought my coffee and bullied me into going to the bakery. i couldn’t stay long because i had a paper to write, so we talked about stupid shit until i had to leave.”

“it sounds like the beginning of true love to me,” san sing-songs.

“stop the car, i’ve decided to walk.”

when you get to the store, san separates from you quickly because he sees his friend mingi behind the counter. they’re busy talking while you search the store for the paints, and you’re so busy looking up at the aisle names that you don’t notice you’re about to run into someone.

“hey-” you start to complain, but you recognize the man you almost bumped into. “oh, seonghwa.”

“y/n,” he smiles at you. “what are you doing out so late?”

“uh, distracting myself from how small my brain is,” you explain. “what are you doing here?”

“hongjoong needed paint pens,” he says, and you’re about two seconds away from finding san and slapping him. did they really plan this too?

“why didn’t he come get them?” you ask as you remember what you’re here to find. your eyes scan the aisle behind seonghwa and you spot the paint cans at the end, but he’s in your way.

“i offered,” he says with a shrug.

“you must be a really good friend, then.”

“well you did call me perfect yesterday, so...” he trails off, smirking. you roll your eyes at him but can’t help the blush creeping up your neck. he interrupts his new favorite activity of staring deeply into your eyes (just to fluster you, of course) and he sees that you’re looking past him at the shelves of paint. “you need something down here?”

“um, yeah, the spray paint,” you reply, awkwardly trying to skirt around him to get into the aisle. he steps aside to let you through, but still follows you as you search for the color you want.

“what are you making?”

“i’m painting a scuffed up dresser i’ve had for a while, so i want something simple that’ll go with the rest of the things in my room,” you explain as you stop walking and crane your neck to scan the bottles on the top shelf. seonghwa stops behind you and places his hand on the small of your back as he reaches for a can just out of your reach.

“what about this one?” he offers, handing you a can of light blue paint. it’s really pretty, and it’ll stand out with the white furniture you already have, but you really like it.

“oh, that’s perfect!” you say as you take the can from his hands.

“there you go again,” seonghwa teases, and you shoot him a questioning look. he smiles as he responds. “calling me perfect?”

“i said the paint was perfect, weirdo,” you snap. “but thank you for finding this.”

“anytime,” he tells you. “you said your favorite color was blue right?”

“right...” you mumble, thinking back to the conversation you had at the bakery yesterday. “how’d you remember?”

“ugh, i’m hurt!” he exclaims, hand flying to his chest in mock surprise. “i can’t believe you already forgot that it’s my favorite color too.”

“hm, guess i was too distracted by how perfect you are,” you joke. seonghwa laughs at that, a sharp sound that seemed to catch him off guard. he covers his mouth to stifle the sound, but you’re close enough to the cash register now that it draws attention from san and mingi.

“find what you need?” san asks with a shit eating grin.

“hm, just about,” you say as you place the paint on the counter. “couldn’t find a hammer big enough to drop on your head, though.”

“wow, harsh,” san scoffs. “and to think i brought you here out of the goodness of my heart.”

you’re too busy half-bickering with san to notice that seonghwa has paid for your paint and the pens he promised hongjoong. he mumbles something to mingi, who then hands him a piece of paper. he scribbles his number down for you before handing you the can and his number.

“i gotta go, but i’ll see you later for study group, right?” he confirms. you’re still processing the fact that he keeps buying things for you and you can’t respond in time, so san steps in.

“yeah, y/n will be there,” san assures seonghwa. he nods and shoots you one last smile before he excuses himself and leaves. you’re stuck with san and that stupid grin again. he looks at you and then checks the paper with seonghwa’s number on it. “yep, i think you got what you needed.”

even though seonghwa very willingly gave you his number, you’re still afraid to text him. it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s into you the way you’re into him, so you’re fine with just seeing him for study dates. or, uh, not study dates. study gatherings. with just the two of you. because the other guys have bailed, again.

this time, though, you’re not working on music theory. you have an assignemnt due for your ethics class, and you need family and friends to read about your results from this morals test. you wanted san to do it, but he’s currently “chasing a sweet piece of ass,” whatever that means. he’s probably bothering his lab partner that he claims descended from greek gods. you would usually tease him for saying something like that, but it’s a thought you’ve had about seonghwa, so you kept your mouth shut.

anyway, you know you need someone to answer these questions for you, but you can’t bring yourself to ask seonghwa. he kept up his “perfect” demeanor again today, showing up at the bookstore before you so he could get you the coffee you like. you would ask why he keeps doing things like this for you, remembering your favorite color and your coffee order, but you’re afraid he’ll stop if you bring it up. little do you know, every time he learns something new about you, he writes it down in his notes app, keeping a running tab of the things you like.

“y/n?” you hear him ask. his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been staring at him this whole time. the smirk you’ve become so familiar with makes another appearance as he gets ready to tease you. “something on your mind?”

“no, i...no,” you stutter. “i’m just thinking.”

“about what?” he questions as he lifts his coffee cup to his lips. you watch the way he slightly pouts them before taking a sip and you have to stop yourself from staring again.

“just this ethics assignment i want to finish,” you explain. “sorry, i didn’t realize i was staring at you.”

“must be an important assignment,” he nods, leaning forward to put his cup back on the table in front of you. you get another glimpse at the star tattoo on his neck as he does. “because i was definitely staring at you too, and you didn’t even notice.”

“oh?”

“yep,” he confirms. “i was giving you my best puppy dog eyes and everything.”

“puppy dog eyes?” you ask, unsure of what’s coming. “do you need something?”

“eh, not really,” he shrugs. “i’m just worried.”

“why?”

“you never texted me the other night.”

“after the art store?” you ask incredulously.

“isn’t that when i gave you my number?” he smirks.

“i didn’t think you wanted me to text you immediately...”

“well, it’s been three days and i still don’t have your number,” he pouts.

“hold on a second,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. you fumble around in there, searching for the piece of paper with seonghwa’s number on it as he watches you fondly.

“what are you doing?”

“looking for your number,” you reply like it’s obvious. seonghwa laughs a little and places his hand on your arm to stop you.

“you do know i’m right next to you, and i could just put my number in myself?” he asks, eyes sparkling as he half-smiles at you. you blush, because no, you weren’t thinking about that. you sheepishly hand him your phone and watch as he adds his number and then texts himself. he gives your phone back and replaces it with his own before asking, “what’s your favorite emoji?”

“um, the smiling cowboy?” you offer, not sure why he’s asking. he laughs again, like he did in the art store, but this time it’s harder for him to quiet the breathy giggles coming from his chest.

“why that one?” he asks, typing something quickly.

“it’s funny,” you shrug. “why?”

“needed something cute to put next to your name, but you’re a weirdo, so it’s not as cute as i was imagining,” he explains, showing you the contact card in his phone. your number is saved as “y/n 🥰🤠” and you can’t help but laugh. you look up at seonghwa, warmth in your eyes, and he starts laughing too.

“see?” you giggle. “it is funny.”

“whatever, at least now i have your number.”

after exchanging numbers with seonghwa, you’re starting to let yourself believe little by little that he might feel the same way you do. it’s not anything serious, but there’s definitely something there. the texts he sends are always flirtatious, and it has your heart beating faster every time you get a notification, hoping that it’s him. you’re in the middle of studying for your spanish final when you feel your phone vibrate on the bed next to you, and you smile when you see who it’s from.

seonghwa 🥺💫, 6:28pm: are you busy rn?

you, 6:28pm: not really, just studying

seonghwa 🥺💫: can’t be studying too much if you replied that quickly 🥸

you: what do u want

seonghwa 🥺💫: be nice :-(

you: sorry

you: hi seonghwa, how are you? what do you want.

seonghwa 🥺💫: come get dinner with me?

you: right now?

seonghwa 🥺💫: no, in 30 years. yes right now

you: but i’m studying ://

seonghwa 🥺💫: liar!

you: fine, when and where?

seonghwa 🥺💫: i’ll pick you up in ten 🤠

“you sure like staying close to campus, huh?” you ask seonghwa as he walks you about a block from your usual hangout and to a little hole in the wall restaurant that looks like it could seat maybe 20 people, uncomfortably.

“i know what i like,” he responds with a shrug. “speaking of things i like, you look nice.”

“oh, thank you,” you semi-laugh. you’d been close to panic trying to figure out what to wear (because you’re not sure if this is a date) so you went with something simple, but you’re glad seonghwa likes it. not that you wanted to impress him. but you did, a little. anyway, he looks...well, perfect, wearing black ripped jeans and a velvet-y navy shirt. you continually have to stop yourself from reaching out and stroking his arm just to feel the soft fabric (and maybe his muscles).

“so i take it you’ve never been here before?” he asks as he hands you a menu. you shake your head no in response. you can’t tell if he’s doing it intentionally, but seonghwa leans closer into your side as he explains. “you pick a main entree, but each dish comes with these sides. they say no substitutes, but i know the guy behind the counter so you can ask for more of something else if you don’t like one of them.”

“i might do that,” you say. “i don’t really want dumplings, so could i get extra sweet potatoes?”

“of course,” he nods, noting the way you smile slightly. it makes your eyes light up, and his heart does a little backflip knowing that he’s the reason for it. well, the sweet potatoes probably are, but he’s the one getting the sweet potatoes, so he’s taking that win for himself. once you both confirm what you want, he places his hand on your back and guides you to the counter.

“hey seonghwa!” the tall guy with a lopsided smile behind the register greets. “long time no see. who’s your friend?”

“hey yunho,” seonghwa smiles back. “this is y/n, a vip, so make sure you give us the good stuff.”

“extra sweet potatoes?” yunho laughs. you and seonghwa both nod as yunho continues taking your order, and you find yourself comfortably leaning into seonghwa as you wait for yunho to calculate the price. before seonghwa can even think about taking his wallet out, you’re handing yunho cash for the food, which makes seonghwa sputter.

“what? y/n, i was going to pay,” he whines, and you simply shake your head.

“nope, my turn,” you tell him. “you’ve bought me coffee too many times.”

“but i asked you out! i don’t want you to pay on our first date if i’m the one who brought you here,” he continues to complain.

“so this is a date?” you confirm, right as yunho asks suggestively “oh, this is a date?”

“yunho, give y/n’s money back,” seonghwa says, ignoring the two of you. “i’m paying.”

“yunho, if you give me that money i’ll be forced to leave and stand seonghwa up for our date,” you say, emphasizing the last word. now you’re glad you wore clean pants.

“seonghwa, why don’t you let y/n pay for this, and then you can get the next one?” yunho suggests, sending you a wink before he turns to the kitchen to share your order with the chef. you’re left with a flustered seonghwa, which is a sight you’re not used to, and it makes you laugh.

“c’mon,” you say as you pull on his arm. “let’s go find a table.”

you’re the only ones in the restaurant, so the food comes out pretty quick, and you have to stifle a laugh when you see that someone has arranged the sweet potatoes on a separate plate in the shape of a heart. seonghwa blushes at this, and you’re taken aback by how shy he’s suddenly become.

for some reason, seonghwa showing signs of nervousness puts you at ease, and you lead the conversation to something stupid san told you about the boys and their shenanigans at their dorm. the story has seonghwa laughing, and he confirms that yes, yeosang does have a sword by the tv, and yes, hongjoong did threaten to use it on him after he lost an intense match of fifa.

“in hongjoong’s defense,” seonghwa begins, “i do think yeosang cheated. wooyoung was definitely helping him.”

“it still sounds ridiculous,” you tell him. “why does anybody need a sword?”

“yeosang is just...yeosang,” seonghwa replies. “he’s weird but he won’t admit that to anyone.”

“i’m just saying, if i went to someone’s house and there was a katana by the tv, i’d haul my ass outta there.” seonghwa giggles at how serious you look, but this conversation reminds him...

“you never showed me your room,” he says bluntly. you pause for a moment, spoon halfway to your mouth, and seonghwa realizes how that must sound. “i mean, the paint, your dresser. you never showed me a picture once you fixed it up.”

“oh,” you breathe out. “let me grab my phone, i can show you.”

“show him what?” a familiar voice suddenly asks from the seat next to you. when you notice that san, and some of your other friends, have snuck their way into the restaurant, you have to keep yourself from groaning.

“why are you here.”

“i’m hungry,” san replies, then turns to seonghwa. “you didn’t tell us you were getting dinner.”

“i didn’t want to,” seonghwa deadpans. “ i wanted it to be just me and y/n.”

“too late for that, pal,” honjoong says as he slides into the seat across from you. “hi y/n.”

“hey hongjoong,” you grumble. “please tell me you’re getting your food to go.”

“we were, but then we saw our good friends eating all by themselves and thought we should join them,” hongjoong teases. by now, the rest of the boys have sat down around you, some at other tables, and one of them you don’t recognize. that must be jongho, their younger “roommate” who technically lives in first year housing but doesn’t get along with the other guy in his room. you’ve heard seonghwa complain that jongho eats all of his snacks.

“well, i hope you enjoy your food, but seonghwa and i were just about to leave,” you lie, looking at seonghwa with a stare that pleads ‘please go along with this.’

“where are you going?” wooyoung asks, one table over.

“my apartment,” you respond quickly, standing up as seonghwa follows your cue with a stupidly adorable look on his face.

“oh, perfect!” san chirps. “we’ll come with you!”

so much for your date with seonghwa. it was hard to stop the boys from insisting they all join you at your apartment, especially after yunho said his shift was over and he could really use some destressing. and by destressing he meant booze, so you currently have 8 tipsy boys scattered across your living room. if you thought they were loud before...it’s amazing that your neighbors haven’t complained yet.

it started off innocent enough, you were just playing card games at first and the loser of each round had to drink. then it turned into never have i ever, and each time you put a finger down you had to drink. then yeosang suggested shots, and it really went downhill from there. san tried convincing everyone to play a round of spin the bottle just for the chance of making you and seonghwa kiss, but mingi and wooyoung were the only ones down, so majority ruled there.

“san, stop pouting,” you laugh, noticing that he’s upset over his evil plan not working out.

“it’s fine,” he lies, duck lips on full display.

“spin the bottle is such a tween-y game too,” jongho pipes in. “and we’re adults, so it would be kinda stupid to play it anyway.”

“says the baby of the group,” yeosang scoffs.

“what about truth or dare?” hongjoong suggests. “still immature, but we can make it fun.”

“yes!” san shouts, suddenly back in a positive mood.

“i’ll start,” mingi volunteers. he takes a deep breath as he looks around the room, eyes narrowing when he looks at you and seonghwa. you’re currently smushed into your armchair together, not really by choice, because the couch is completely full and neither of you wanted to sit on the floor (you know how dirty it is, and seonghwa has a bad hip). thankfully, mingi has mercy on you and directs his gaze to his best friend. “yunho, truth or dare?”

“truth,” yunho slurs out. you’d say he’s the opposite of stressed by now.

“did you sleep with that girl you met at the party last week?”

“no,” yunho replies quickly, cheeks turning a knowing shade of red. “i just walked her home.”

“and went missing until the next morning?” yeosang asks. he gets a few snickers, and you laugh a little too because you remember san and wooyoung talking about their friend who disappeared for a few hours last weekend.

“whatever,” yunho groans. “yeosang. truth or dare.”

“dare,” yeosang chooses confidently.

“kiss wooyoung on the cheek.”

“no,” he replies, just as confidently.

“then take another shot,” yunho concedes, waving his hand at the stubborn boy. wooyoung mumbles something about how kissable he is as yeosang downs what looks like more than just a regular shot.

“this is boring,” jongho whines, which makes him the next target. he chooses dare, and you have to detach yourself from seonghwa so you can go into your kitchen and find the lemon juice in your fridge so jongho can chug what’s left. he’s sputtering after a few sips and gives up, grumbling up to you, “ i hate you for that.”

“hey, it wasn’t my dare,” you defend yourself. “you owe me lemon juice.”

“i’ll give it to you if you choose dare,” jongho challenges. you roll your eyes and take the bait, earning a round of ooo’s from the boys around you.

“make her kiss seonghwa,” someone hisses.

“or me!” wooyoung chirps. jongho looks over at him with a death glare, and wooyoung shrugs. “i just want someone to want to kiss me.”

“i think you’re cut off,” hongjoong says as he leans across your coffee table to move the bottle away from wooyoung.

“everyone be quiet!” san shouts. “jongho has to give y/n a dare.”

“hmmm,” jongho starts, tapping his finger on his chin. “what should i do?”

“for someone who said this was boring, you’re really milking this,” seonghwa says under his breath. you’re perched on the arm of the chair, close enough to hear him, but thankfully no one else does.

“what’s that other childish game called?” jongho wonders aloud. “seven minutes in heaven? i think you should do that with seonghwa.”

“do i have to?” you pout, and your reluctance makes seonghwa stiffen. he thinks you said that because you’re uncomfortable, and not because you don’t want the boys pressing their ear up to the door while the two of you make out.

“rules are rules,” hongjoong concludes, nodding his head toward your room. “go have fun. i’ll keep the kids from bothering you.”

you look to seonghwa, who isn’t looking directly at you. you tentatively take his hand, giving it a squeeze before you stand up and lead him to your room. there are so many catcalls, whistles and cheers coming from your friends that you barely hear san say “take your time! it doesn’t have to be just seven minutes!”

once you get to your room, you let seonghwa go in first and then you lock the door behind you. he quirks an eyebrow at that, and you shrug shyly.

“don’t want one of them bursting in,” you explain. seonghwa nods, and you both fall silent. it’s not necessarily awkward, just tense. you both want to do what seven minutes in heaven is meant for, but you’re not gonna make the first move and seonghwa still isn’t sure you even want to be in this situation. so he takes this time to turn around and take your room in, pointing to your dresser.

“is this it?” he asks. you hum out a yes in response, and he runs his hand over the freshly painted wood. “it looks nice. whoever picked out the color sure knows what he’s doing.”

“eh, he’s just lucky,” you joke, and you both laugh. you move to stand next to him and place your hand on top of his. “sorry we couldn’t finish our date.”

“sorry my friends are so annoying,” seonghwa adds.

“sorry san pushed me into your lap earlier,” you continue, and seonghwa smirks.

“well, i didn’t mind that,” he says. “i wanted you to sit with me, but i didn’t want to draw attention.”

“oh,” you squeak, feeling a blush on its way to your cheeks. a heavy silence falls over you, and seonghwa is the first to break it.

“listen, if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s cool,” he begins. “i kinda got the vibe earlier that you didn’t want to do this, and that’s cool. if you don’t want to do this we’re still cool.”

“you don’t sound very cool about it,” you chuckle, and seonghwa’s face flushes. “but i was only nervous because i didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me.”

“oh i want to kiss you,” he says firmly. “have for a while.”

“why don’t you do it then?” you challenge. seonghwa takes a step closer to you, and before you know it he’s pinned you against your dresser. you balance your hands on it and the cool wood helps you ground yourself as your body heats up from having seonghwa so close.

“are you sure?” he asks, only a few inches from your face. you nod and whisper out “i’m sure” and seonghwa quickly cups your face and smothers you in a kiss. it starts off slow, and your face warms at his touch. once you relax into it you move your lips against his, nipping at his bottom lip slightly and earning a groan from the man before you. you take the chance to slip your tongue past his lips as you bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, slowly brushing through his soft hair. his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly but not too hard, and he leans in to get as close to you as possible. you keep kissing for a few moments, but eventually you need to breathe so you lightly tap on his neck. he pulls back, breathing heavy, and his smile shines like the most beautiful stars in the sky. “so?”

“so?” you repeat, equally out of breath.

“that was nice.”

“it was.”

“the boys are gonna know we made out.”

“of course they are,” you laugh. “your lips look swollen.”

“so do yours,” he counters.

“but wasn’t that the whole point of us coming in here?” you ask. your hands have fallen to his chest, and you finally get a chance to smooth out the soft velvet of his shirt. and you notice his chest is very, uh, firm, too.

“we didn’t have to kiss,” he says with a shrug. “we could’ve just talked.”

“about what?” you ask with a smile.

“my keen eye for interior design,” he replies. “how sexy you look in low lighting.”

“so you think i’m sexy?” you tease, and seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“i just had my tongue in your mouth, does that answer your question?”

another silence comes over you both, but this one is lighter than before. you’re subconsciously rubbing your hands over his shirt, and seonghwa brings a hand up to cover yours, stopping it right over his heart.

“we don’t have to tell them,” you offer. “i mean, they kept it a secret from us that they were trying to get us together this whole time.”

“oh no, i was fully aware of that,” seonghwa tells you, and you scoff. “do you think i really wanted to get out past midnight just to buy hongjoong some expensive markers? he never even paid me for them.”

“well now i really don’t want to tell them we kissed,” you whine. “how could everyone be in on this except me?”

“it was more fun that way,” seonghwa teases before pecking your lips. “but we can keep this between us, for now.”

“i think we should,” you say with a nod of finality. “it’s more fun that way.”

“c’mon, let’s go back out there before they send a search party.”

you return to the living room before seonghwa (so he can sneak into the bathroom and fix his hair) and you find most of the boys asleep on the floor. you sigh as your eyes meet hongjoong’s, and he shrugs.

“at least they didn’t bother you,” he says.

“can you help me find pillows and blankets for them, please?” you ask, and he nods before jumping into action. he throws one of the couch pillows down to yeosang, who takes it and hugs it to his chest. you have a couple extras in your hall closet and you pass them to yunho, who’s sitting up when you come back. he places one under mingi and another under jongho and keeps the last one for himself. san and wooyoung are on the couch, and hongjoong tells you he’s fine with the armchair. seonghwa is out of the bathroom by now, and, like the perfect man he is, he’s carrying blankets in his arms. the three of you work on getting all the boys covered before you realize that seonghwa doesn’t have a place to sleep.

“i can take another spot on the floor,” he assures you. “do you have another pillow i can use?”

“let him sleep in your room, y/n,” san mumbles from underneath wooyoung. you pause and look at seonghwa, who’s looking back at you with something you can’t read in his eyes.

“it’s not a bad idea,” hongjoong pipes in from somewhere within the blanket cocoon he made for himself. “he was just there. you can put him on the floor.”

“y/n?” seonghwa asks, pulling your attention back to him. “i don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.”

you would try to fight it, so you could hopefully ignore taunts from the boys in the morning, but you’re suddenly really tired and you just want to lay down.

“i’m ok with it if you are,” you yawn. “take the rest of those blankets, we can use those for your bed.”

“make good choices,” honjoong mumbles as seonghwa leads you back to your room, and you hear san going “oooooo” as you close your door a second time tonight. this time you don’t lock it though, and when you turn around you see the blankets on the floor and seonghwa sprawled out on your usual side of the bed, so you tell him.

“well why don’t you come join me then?” he teases with a grin. you blush and shake your head.

“scoot over.”

he does, but only by an inch. he still looks at you with that flirty glint in his eyes, and you can only shake your head again as you crawl into the tiny space next to him. he immediately wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a tight hug, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“thank you,” he whispers into your back.

“for what?” you reply.

“for not putting me on the floor. and for liking me.”

you just woke up from maybe the best night of sleep you’ve ever had. seonghwa’s arms and legs are draped over yours, so you can’t get up without waking him, but having him so close is a welcome source of warmth. your apartment is quiet, and the sun is peacefully filtering into your room through your curtain. it’s the perfect moment, with your perfect boy, until-

“i think they’re still asleep,” you hear someone whisper from the hallway.

“wooyoung, leave them alone!” another voice hisses. there’s silence for a moment, and then a smack, followed by someone jiggling the doorknob to your room. you quickly untangle yourself from seonghwa before you watch as the door cracks open a bit, revealing wooyoung in all his bed-headed glory. you close your eyes as much as you can while still peeking at who’s sneaking into your room, and you see jongho close behind him. he must’ve been the one who got smacked. or did the smacking. either way, they’re both staring at you and seonghwa in your bed, but you notice wooyoung smile and pause.

“i knew it! they definitely got together last night.”

“how do you know?” jongho asks. “maybe y/n let seonghwa sleep on the bed because of his old man hips.”

“whatever. they’re in the same bed, so that’s at least something,” wooyoung replies. “lame, but still something.”

“what did you expect?” jongho asks incredulously. “you thought we would catch them doing it?”

“i mean, not exactly, but couldn’t i get a little cuddling maybe?”

“you want me to cuddle you hyung?” jongho deadpans.

“yes, actually-”

“hey!” a third voice whisper shouts. you hear footsteps and then you see hongjoong pulling wooyoung out of your room by the neck of his shirt. “leave them alone. and you, jongho, i’m surprised you’re playing along with this.”

“well...” jongho mumbles.

“well what?” hongjoong asks, sounding like the mom-est mom to ever mom.

“they’re the only ones that know how to make breakfast.”

“both of you, out! now!” hongjoong semi-shouts, and you feel seonghwa stirring behind you. hongjoong doesn’t realize you’re both awake and closes the door as he leaves.

“what time is it?” seonghwa grumbles out, and your heart skips a beat hearing how deep his voice is when he wakes up.

“early,” you reply, turning around to be face to face with him. his arms slowly snake around you as you look up at him and share a sleepy smile. “how can you look this good when you first wake up?”

“weird, i wanted to ask you the same thing,” seonghwa replies, leaning in to kiss you but you touch your fingers to his lips and stop him, so he pouts.

“uh uh, not until i brush my teeth,” you say as you try to get up, but seonghwa’s grip on your waist keeps you down.

“please,” he pouts again, sparkly eyes on full display as he pleads with you. it takes about half a second for you to cave and kiss him quickly, catching him off guard. he shifts to pull you on top of him and deepen the kiss, but he loses his grip on you and you’re able to slip out of bed before he can stop you. a noise comes from deep in his chest that almost sounds like a growl, and you shoot him a glare.

“hey, you got your kiss,” you warn. “now i’m going to make breakfast for the gremlins. do you want to help me?”

after the intrusion into your bedroom, wooyoung obviously told the boys what he saw. but, like jongho said, most of them thought it was just because of seonghwa’s hips that made you share a bed with him. there wasn’t enough evidence otherwise, and none of them really expected either of you to make a move despite their efforts. but they’re starting to get suspicious.

little do they know, after the set up fell into place, seonghwa wanted to take you on a real date. the only way to do that without your friends knowing was to sneak around without them, which was kind of fun. it was nice having this bubble with seonghwa, just the two of you, but it was getting harder to avoid your friends. seonghwa lived with them after all, so they pestered him about how often he was out and who he might be out with.

“san keeps asking if you’re a good kisser. i told him i didn’t know, and then he asked if he could find out for me. should i be concerned about that?”

“we need to be more careful, yeosang said he saw us at the taco place yesterday, and he said we hold hands weird.”

“hongjoong has been saving seats for us at the bookstore, and each time we don’t show up i think he steals something from me.”

you have been ditching study group lately, but that’s more because you need to do some deep studying for your other finals and your friends are too much of a distraction. seonghwa can be distracting too, but at least he can take a hint and back down when you really need to focus. it’s been nice actually, just spending time in his presence. you were so nervous around him just a few weeks ago, and now you feel like you could trust him with just about anything.

today, you don’t get any personal study time, though. your music theory final is coming up and seonghwa wants you to get all the terms memorized before the review session in class tomorrow. he’s motivating you with a kiss for each right answer and the promise of him making dinner once you’re done. you’re currently cruising on five wrong in a row, and you’re getting frustrated.

“c’mon y/n, you know this,” seonghwa encourages you, but you just whine in response. “we did this like four minutes ago, and i told you the answer so you could remember it.”

“yeah, well i obviously didn’t,” you snap, and seonghwa fakes being hurt. “sorry. can we skip this and come back to it?”

“sure,” he agrees quickly. “but first you need to write down the circle of fifths for me.”

“i hate you.”

“hm, wrong answer,” he hums. “but kiss anyway. maybe that’ll keep you from getting so grumpy.”

“i am not grumpy,” you defend after kissing him gently. “i’m stressed.”

“you know what you need?”

“hm?”

“you need to go on another date,” he begins. “with me, obviously.”

“damn, i wanted to know if yunho was free,” you tease, and seonghwa doesn’t think it’s funny. “now who’s grumpy?”

“ignoring that,” he scoffs, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“when would we go? i’m really busy the next few days.”

“what about after class? we could both clean up and do something nice before we get some dinner?” seonghwa suggests. “why don’t we go to that art exhibit you told me about?”

“ugh,” you groan as you learn your head on his shoulder. “that sounds amazing, but we both said we’d be at study group tomorrow, remember? hongjoong practically begged me to be there, and i said i would ask you to come.”

“what about not letting them know we’re a thing?” he pouts. you don’t tell him about the youngest two that saw you all cuddled up, but instead you assure him that you inviting him to study group wouldn’t look unusual to the boys.

“plus, if we both cancel last minute, they’d know for sure we were up to something together,” you continue. “so yes, we need to go on another date, but just not tomorrow.”

“fine,” he mumbles. “now i am grumpy.”

“would something from the cafe make it better, my little boba ball?” you ask in a baby voice.

“ooh, actually, boba sounds good,” seonghwa smiles. “let’s go.”

the next day you get to the bookstore late because your professor gave a pop quiz at the end of class and you’ve been so busy studying music theory you forgot to study for anything else, so you needed all the time you could get. when you finally arrive, all of the boys are there, surprisingly. since you’ve never seen yunho, mingi and jongho here before you’re a little confused, but happy to see them nonetheless.

as you walk up to the usual spot, you notice a coffee cup sitting in front of an empty chair, and you point to it as the boys greet you.

“is this for me?” you ask, placing your bag on the ground before grabbing the warm mug. “thank you, coffee angel.”

“you’re welcome, actual angel,” seonghwa replies, and you almost choke on your first sip. what is he doing?? you’re supposed to be sneaky sneaks and keep your relationship quiet, but here he is flirting with you in front of everyone!

except, that’s what he did before you started dating too, so it’s not out of the ordinary. in fact, no one pays any mind to it, so you’re left with a burnt tongue and blushy cheeks while seonghwa looks at you with a stare that only you would understand. you quickly shoot him a wink before you put your mug down and reach for your notes.

“um, hello? what are you guys doing?” you ask yeosang next to you, who’s rabidly tapping at his phone, just like everyone else. if they weren’t distracted they might have picked up on the vibes between you and seonghwa, but thankfully they’re the oblivious ones now.

“playing a game,” half of them respond, just as hongjoong says “writing lyrics” and jongho mumbles “texting my mom.”

“aren’t we supposed to study?” you ask. “or did you already learn everything in the world while i was gone?”

“well you’ve missed a lot of study sessions, y/n,” san begins. “so yes, we have learned everything. now we just come here to hang out.”

“so then why did you insist on me being here, joong?” you ask newly orange-haired hongjoong. it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, he must’ve dyed it recently.

“we missed hanging out with you,” he says simply, eyes peeking up from his phone. your heart constricts at this, and you catch seonghwa’s eyes again. you might have to rethink the whole sneaking around thing if they really do miss you.

“yeah, we missed you AND we had to make sure you and seonghwa are still spending time together,” wooyoung adds, wiggling his eyebrows.

“where have you been anyway?” yeosang asks. “you don’t have other friends.”

“yes i do,” you scoff.”

“give me names and numbers.”

“ignore him,” yunho tells you, and you nod.

“i always do. but i’ve been really stressed about finals, so i had to do some soul searching on my own to decide if i need to graduate or not.”

“seems fair,” mingi agrees. “i almost had to drop a class.”

“because he forgot he was even enrolled in it,” jongho clarifies, and you laugh.

“but seonghwa has been missing a lot lately too,” san starts. “i wonder what he’s been doing.”

“or who,” wooyoung snickers, and hongjoong reaches over mingi to slap him.

“i haven’t been feeling well,” seonghwa says with a shrug. “i’ve mostly been in my room, or at the pharmacy to get medicine.”

“oh, so you could’ve bought new paper towels for the dorm then, huh?” hongjoong asks, and as the two of them start to bicker, yeosang nudges your arm.

“i saw you two,” he says quietly. “at the mexican restaurant.”

“i know,” you whisper back.

“so i know you’re dating.”

“are you gonna say anything?”

“hmmm, no,” he thinks. “but you have to buy my silence.”

“with coffee?” you offer, and yeosang smiles. he stands up and puts his phone away before speaking, looking directly at seonghwa.

“my best friend y/n is gonna buy me coffee, we’ll be back,” he says as he loops his arm around your shoulders. seonghwa watches as you walk away (and stares at your ass) but he’s mostly thinking about how he’s a little jealous right now. like, he knows you wouldn’t do anything, he trusts you, but he doesn’t want his friends thinking you have a thing for anyone but him. so while you’re gone, he talks.

“i haven’t been sick,” he admits. “i’ve been seeing y/n.”

“we all knew, dude,” hongjoong says casually, and everyone agrees.

“then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“because YOU weren’t saying anything,” jongho replies.

“yeah, we figured that we did enough trying to get the two of you together, so if you didn’t end up dating then that was your fault. we were just waiting on you to make a move,” san explains.

“then why did you let us lie to you like that?”

“it was fun,” wooyoung shrugs. “by the way, did y/n let you sleep in the bed because of your hips, or because you wanted to cuddle?”

the red tint on seonghwa’s cheeks gives him away, and the boys start laughing and ooo’ing so loud he’s afraid you’ll hear it over by the coffee counter.

“ok, ok, just. keep this quiet for now,” he says. “y/n may still want this to be private.”

“but you just told us about it,” yunho says. “why would you do that if you knew y/n wouldn’t want you to?”

“well,” seonghwa begins. “i need your help with a date.”

seemingly by an act of god, you have time this weekend to go on a date with seonghwa. little did you know, he’s the reason your plans suddenly freed up. san said you could critique him and wooyoung for their dance final another day, hongjoong said he would send you his music theory notes from the review and save you hours of studying and then yeosang found the exact spanish book you needed to finish your performance final ahead of time. it was the perfect circumstances, orchestrated by your perfect boy and his perfect-adjacent friends, who all agreed to help him with this (hopefully) perfect date.

it starts with seonghwa picking you up from your apartment, coffee in hand.

“you’re the man of my dreams, you know that?” you say in passing as you grab the warm to-go cup. even if you were only saying it lightly, it made seonghwa’s heart soar. you notice he hasn’t said anything to you, so you meet his eyes to find them full of stars like always, but this time there’s something scheme-y in there. he’s up to something.

“are you ready for the best date of your life?” he asks with a smile that puts the stars in his eyes to shame.

“yes, i think,” you respond, grabbing your keys and locking your door. “but i don’t know what we’re doing.”

“and it will stay that way until we get there,” seonghwa says firmly as he laces his hand into yours. you squeeze his hand and sigh.

“i guess i just have to trust you then.”

“but that won’t be hard right?”

“wait, didn’t you say something earlier about going to that art exhibit? is that it?” you question, even though you know he won’t budge. seonghwa just shakes his head no and punches the button for the elevator. a moment of silence passes before you guess again. “a movie? you rented out a movie theater, like you said you wanted to?”

“i tried, but it was expensive,” he admits and you have to laugh. “funds are tight right now.”

“i watched you buy a couple hundred dollars worth of legos the other day babe. maybe that’s why the date fund is lacking.”

“you’re not coming between me and my collectables, y/n,” seonghwa scolds. the elevator pings to open to the parking garage under your building, and you’re confused for a moment before he explains. “i want this to be a nice date, so yunho let me borrow his car. it would be no fun if we show up all sweaty because we were walking.”

yunho’s car, which is actually pretty nice thanks to all the tips he gets from flirting with clientele, is parked by the elevator. seonghwa leads you to your door and opens it for you, revealing a basket of flowers and candies in the seat. you coo as you pick it up, and seonghwa looks on proudly. you lean over to give him a kiss, and you whisper your thanks as you pull away.

“that was mingi’s idea,” seonghwa tells you, smiling brightly “i got all your favorites.”

“i see that.”

“but look around the flowers,” he guides you. “there’s something else.”

you hold the basket up to eye level, noticing the silver sparkle around the stems of the flowers. is it glitter? you tug at a flower and realize it’s a chain, and attached is a hand drawn star charm to match the tattoo on the back of seonghwa’s neck.

“seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you say breathlessly. “we’re gonna match! that’s so cute. who’s idea was this?”

“would you believe me if i said it was mine?”

“no.”

“that’s what jongho said too,” seonghwa laughs. “it was his idea.”

“tell him thank you,” you say as you play with the charm. “mingi and yunho too. it’s a good date so far.”

“oh baby, it hasn’t officially started yet.”

in the car, seonghwa plays a mix of songs that he really likes, and he’s mixed in some of your favorites too. he has to keep convincing you that the songs aren’t clues, because you ask every time a new song plays.

“so are the songs just distractions?” you ask, finally giving up on getting any information out of him.

“why do you ask that?” he smirks as he turns down a familiar road.

“because i can tell you just took the long way to the record store,” you explain. “are you stalling?”

“me, what? why?” his response does nothing to manage your suspicions, and suddenly you remember how your friends have helped with the date so far. are they all in on this? you need answers.

“seonghwa, i swear to god, if san or wooyoung jumps out to surprise me wherever we’re going-”

“that won’t happen,” seonghwa laughs while he parks the car. “we’re here anyway, and i promise this is the last surprise of the night.”

“the record store?” you question, looking up at the shop you’ve been to countless times to shop and to bother hongjoong while he works.

“yeah, you said there was a new album out you wanted to get, right?”

“yeah,” you blush. “but i just said that in passing, i didn’t expect you to remember.”

“y/n, i want to know everything about you,” seonghwa says seriously. “so of course i remembered. wait, don’t get out yet. i’ll open the door for you.”

as seonghwa helps you out of the car, you quiz him on the other things you’ve said around him that you didn’t think he remembered. sadly, he does remember you saying your favorite disney movie is ratatouille and you’ve always wanted to try the mushroom/cheese concoction remy makes in the first scene.

“that’s a little embarrassing,” you sigh as you reach for the door. you’re going to complain some more about how seonghwa doesn’t need to remember everything about you, but the sight in front of you makes you stop mid-breath.

the record store has been decorated from floor to ceiling in fairy lights, and there’s more flowers all over the place. as you look around, you notice the flowers are tucked in the shelves next to your favorite artists. next to the door is the album you were talking about, and a little further down you see your favorite album of all time with a few extra flowers next to it. you’re still taking everything in when you notice hongjoong behind the counter.

“did you help him with this?” you ask breathlessly, and hongjoong nods.

“yeah, but the flowers next to the albums was my idea,” hongjoong explains. “we’re running a new special called “y’n’s favorites” so everything that’s marked with a flower is yours, if you want it. everything is on the house.”

“i...i don’t know what to say,” you start. you turn to seonghwa and there are those starry eyes that you love to see. you reach out to cup his face and smile. “thank you. this is...perfect.”

“it’s even more perfect now that i’m here!” wooyoung shouts from the front door of the shop, followed by san and yeosang. you look at seonghwa and all he does is laugh.

“what? at least he didn’t jump out and scare you,” seonghwa teases.

“oh, i would never,” wooyoung nods with a half-serious look on his face. “but i definitely wouldn’t do that when i have your dinner in my hands, i can’t let all this hard work spill.”

“especially not on my clean floor,” hongjoong warns.

“you made dinner for us?” you ask wooyoung, but you’re looking at seonghwa, who simply shrugs.

“yep, i made one of your favorites and then threw in a couple recipes i thought you’d both like,” wooyoung says as he and the two other boys place food down on the counter by the register.

“and what did you two help with?” you ask san and yeosang.

“who do you think made this place so beautiful?” yeosang asks incredulously.

“yeosang did the lights and i bought all the flowers,” san explains with a smile that makes his eyes turn into happy half moons. “you’d be surprised how many places i had to go to get all your favorites.”

“i really don’t know what to say,” you whisper in disbelief. “i can’t believe you all did this for me.”

“it was all seonghwa’s idea,” san tells you. “we did it for both of you.”

“yeah, we’re just his little minions,” yeosang jokes, and wooyoung giggles.

“you tell me how that food tastes, got it?” he asks as he backs out of the store. “don’t say anything mean though. i only accept compliments.”

“wooyoung,” seonghwa smiles tightly. “please leave.”

wooyoung holds the door open for san and yeosang as he gives seonghwa a thumbs up. san waves goodbye sweetly and yeosang gives you a knowing smile before the door closes behind them.

“well, i think that’s my cue to go,” hongjoong says, handing the keys to seonghwa. “don’t make a mess. if i get fired, i’m selling all the stuff i stole from you when you were sneaking around with y/n and not telling us about it.”

“i’ll keep him under control,” you assure hongjoong, who nods as heads to the door. you don’t see him leave because seonghwa has stepped in front of you, and he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer.

“so,” he begins.

“so.”

“what do you want to listen to while we eat?” he asks, pulling you by the waist over to a row of records. you stand there quietly, looking over the albums hongjoong pulled to the front for you, and you just can’t believe how much work went into this date. you can’t believe how sweet it is that each of your friends helped, and you put your hand on seonghwa’s and give it a squeeze.

“hwa,” you whisper. he hums in response, but you place your hand on his cheek and guide his gaze to yours.

“thank you,” you tell him. “thank you for this.”

he smiles at you with a look in his eyes that can’t be anything else but love, and you smile back with that much love, if not more, in your own face. you use the hand on seonghwa’s chin to guide his lips to yours, and you lose yourself in the kiss, in seonghwa, for who knows how long.

“mm, y/n,” he mumbles against your lips before detaching. “the food will get cold.”

“you’re right,” you sigh. “but we didn’t pick any music.”

“how about this?” he asks, pulling an album out from the top shelf. you smile at the cover, knowing exactly what song seonghwa wants you to hear.

“perfect,” you agree. “i’ll put it on while you get the food?”

and that’s how you end up eating the perfect meal, on your perfect date, with all of your favorite things around you, sitting right next to your perfect boy.

#seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa imagine #seonghwa one shot #ateez one shot #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #seonghwa imagines #ateez fluff #park seonghwa #park seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa imagine #park seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa one shot

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wereteez · 3 years

Text

Meet the Illusion Pack

Important!!! I have no affiliation with ATEEZ other than being an ATINY. This blog does not represent anyone at KQ Entertainment or anyone in ATEEZ! This is simply fiction being used for fun~ ~Meet the Illusion Pack~

Name: Kim Hongjoong

Rank: Alpha/Pack Leader

Will do whatever it takes those he calls family

Name: Park Seonghwa

Rank: Omega/Healer

Can be found most of the time with his nose in a book or caring for one of the other members

Name: Jeong Yunho

Rank: Beta/Peacekeeper

Will likely be hanging out in the center grounds

Name: Kang Yeosang

Rank: Omega/Sentinel

Stays up to watch the stars at night

Name: Choi San

Rank: Alpha/Hunter & Warrior

Loves to cuddle with his other pack members

Name: Song Mingi

Rank: Omega/Guardian

Often runs out to gather herbs and other materials for Seonghwa

Name: Jeong Wooyoung

Rank: Alpha/Hunter & Scout

Usually playing pranks and getting in trouble with the other members

Name: Choi Jongho

Rank: Alpha/Hunter & Warrior

Newest member of the pack, but has proven his worth to the pack alpha

A Few Rules:

All Rps will be through DMs

Asks are always open to talk with the pack

NO instant romance! You must earn the trust of the pack before they will allow you to be close to them/near their territory.

How to Activate: In a DM; Please include the following

Name of choice (no Y/N)

Age

Pronouns

Triggers (Extremely important)

Plot of your choice (Can be discussed in DMs) NSFW (Must be over the age of 18)

Safeword/Action

Kinks

Hard stops (Things that will make your character say red instantly if they were using the color system)

Deactivation:

Say “It’s time for me to leave”

Once you say this the Rp will stop

However this cannot be undone

You will be seen as a rogue and a threat to the pack.

Admin Info:

Welcome to the Utopian Valley. My name is Ally, but you can call me Starlight.

This is my first chatbot so please go easy on me

Credit to @ateezinmymind, @idol-dadteez, and @munniexmuses for the inspiration and motivation to create this chatbot.

I will do my best to respond promptly, but I am taking 15 credits this semester.

With that being said, I promise I don’t bite.

Admin is 22, please DNI if you are under the age of 16

Will not do NSFW with anyone less than 18 years old

Please don’t spam it will make the experience a lot less fun for both of us

I adapt to my rp partner’s style

~Starlight

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

Ateez: Getting Walked In On By Another Member (Rated)

Contains NSFW material, read at your own discretion.

Kim Hongjoong:

It was another day spent inside the studio with Hongjoong. Except recently he seemed to be struggling producing new songs. You could see how he stressed himself out, pushing himself to come up with something, only to later delete it cause it wasn't right.

"Maybe you should take a break." You suggested to him.

Sighing, Hongjoong leaned back on his chair.

"Maybe you're right....maybe I need to relax"

An idea suddenly popped in your head. Your boyfriend needed to relax, so why not help him? Slowly, you made your way over to him. Standing behind him, you began to gently rub his shoulders, hoping to release some of the tension he had built up. It was working as Hongjoong's head fell back, his eyes closing, enjoying the feeling of your hands on him.

Leaning down, you whispered in his ear.

"Baby, why don't you let me help you relax?"

When he opened his eyes, he could see you smirking at him and right away he knew what you were implying. And he was definitely not going to say no to that.

Soon enough, he was sitting on the couch, his pants and boxers pulled down to his ankles. His head was thrown back, tiny sighs and moans escaping his mouth as his fingers were tangled around your hair. The sight of you taking him so well, sucking on his entire length, it was enough to push him closer to his edge.

"Fuck-- baby, I'm going to-" but before he could get out the last part, you two were startled by a piercing scream.

"OH MY FUCKING- MY EYES!!"

Looking over, you saw poor Jongho covering his eyes. Hongjoong quickly sat up and started pulling his clothes back up.

"Jongho! What are you?!- Why are you-?!" Hongjoong couldn't even speak.

"I was bringing you food Seonghwa Hyung made, said it'd help you relax, but clearly, you already got that covered!"

Jongho simply set the food down on the floor, hands still over his eyes before bolting out of there as fast as he could.

"I'm never looking at you the same way again!!"

Park Seonghwa:

If there was anything Seonghwa liked when it came to your relationship, it was privacy. Privacy from the public, and especially privacy when it came to the sexual aspect of it. That's why you guys usually did it in your apartment, or he'd bribe the boys to go out for a long time if it was at the dorms.

And that was the current situation at the moment. He made them go somewhere else so he could take his sweet time with you. And boy was he making good use of it. You were currently on his bed, fully naked, while he was still fully clothed, in between your legs, eating you out like a starved animal.

"S-Seonghwa..." you breathed out, hands reaching for his hair.

He only replied with a moan against your lips, sending shivers up your body.

"Please Seonghwa....I need you" you were begging him to just fuck you senseless against the bed.

"Patience sweetheart, be a good girl and wait a little, I'm not finished yet."

He went back to continue sucking on your sensitive bud, his tongue working his magic on you. Slowly, his fingers began to poke at your entrance, teasing you mercilessly as you wished for nothing more than to just feel them inside you. Seonghwa was so addicted to your taste, your scent, so bewitched that he didn't hear the sound of the door opening. And he most definitely didn't hear the footsteps that stopped by his room.

"Daaang! Who knew the old man had moves?"

Both of you whipped your heads towards the door, seeing a giggling Wooyoung standing there. You were so mortified, you couldn't even move. Seonghwa, on the other hand, was furious that someone else had seen you in a way only he was allowed to. Swiftly, he pulled the blanket over you, covering you up before getting up and walking over menacingly to the younger boy.

"You have 5 seconds to run before I kick your ass." Was his only warning.

Jeong Yunho:

Having the dorm to yourselves cause most of the members were out visiting family or friends, Yunho and you decided to take advantage the moment and spend time together. At first, everything started off soft. You two were tangled in his bed, watching a movie while cuddling each other like koalas.

Things soon ended up taking a different tone though. It had been a while since you two were intimate and you couldn't handle it anymore. Clothes were soon thrown across the floor, marks were being plastered all over your body and it was getting more heated by the minute.

You had already came twice by Yunho's tongue and now he was trying to push you even further past your limit. His long fingers were currently deep inside you, hitting against that spot that was sending you to cloud nine.

"Y-Yunho-" You whimpered, gripping the sheets as you felt something completely different in the pit of your stomach.

Yunho smirked, knowing full well what was happening to you.

"I know baby, I know. Be a good girl for me and let it all out."

You couldn't hold back anymore. With curled toes, you came violently, squirting all over Yunho's fingers and arm. He used his free hand to press down on your stomach, holding you in place as his fingers never slowed down inside you, overstimulating you. You were a quivering mess by the time he finally pulled them out of you.

You were left panting and when your eyes were finally focused, you let out a sharp gasp when you saw Mingi standing in the doorway, mouth wide open. Yunho looked back and immediately got embarrassed now that he knew his best friend just saw what happened. For a while, nobody could say anything, too stunned by the situation, until Mingi asked.

"Can you show me how to do that?"

To which Yunho could only laugh and cover his face, but wasn't planning on saying no.

Kang Yeosang:

It was supposed to be nothing more than a fun party. Yeosang and you were definitely having a good time. The other boys were definitely having the time of their lives, San and Wooyoung already drunk, Yunho and Mingi dancing wildly, while Seonghwa and Hongjoong were making sure they didn't break anything or keeping Jongho from following in their footsteps.

You and Yeosang were currently on the dance floor. What started off as innocent dancing though, turned into heaving grinding and slight gropings. One look was all it took and soon you both ended up inside a closet. Shutting the door behind you, Yeosang was already attacking your neck, sucking and biting down, leaving red marks all over. His hands were roaming all over your body, until they rested on your ass. He started kneading at your cheeks and started grinding his erection against your ever growing wet core.

You weren't going to let him have his fun only. Reaching down, you started palming him through his jeans, causing him to growl against your ear. You smirked, knowing full well how to get him to submit to you. Making a quick work of his zipper, you pulled them down along with his boxers, just enough to be able to cup his length in your hand.

"Ahhh-ahh." Yeosang hissed at the feeling of your hand around him.

You peppered kisses across his jaw as you slowly began to stroke him, making sure to spread his precum along his tip.

"Such a good boy for me." You chuckled as you bit down on his lower lip, causing a moan to escape from him.

The moment was ruined by a loud San, who almost stumbled inside. He gasped when he saw you two in such a compromising position, before a smile was plastered on his face.

"I knew it! I fucking knew you two were going to hump each other! Guys!! Guess what?! Yeosang and Y/N-"

You didn't hear the rest as he was already gone, running no doubt to tell the others. Yeosang was beyond mortified, face a crimson red, and he was almost shaking.

"Please let's just go home." He desperately asked.

Choi San:

To say San was shameless was an understatement. Truth be told, he loved the risk of getting caught. Whether it'd be when he was out on a normal date with you, or if it meant getting caught with you doing something very sinful. The latter never had happened before, but that a changed one day.

Not only did San had the audacity to get naughty with you in the dorm, but he didn't even bother taking you to his room. He decided he needed you and the couch was going to be perfect for now. Clothes were gone in the blink of an eye, hot and steamy kisses were placed all over your body and San was practically insatiable.

Turning you on all fours, he pumped himself a few times before slipping inside your wet core, stretching you out and filling you up so nicely. His thrusts were deep and rough, the grip he had on your hips were sure to leave bruises on you, but you didn't care. The only things leaving your mouth were moans and pants.

"You like that baby girl? Yeah? You like being fucked like the little slut you are?" San groaned.

You let out a whimper when you felt his hand come down and slap one of your ass cheeks, quickly soothing it before repeating the same thing he did before.

"Go ahead, scream my name. Let everyone know who's making you feel good. Let them know who your Daddy is Princess."

"Oh my! San!!!"

Both of you were startled by a traumatized Yeosang standing in the hallway, face covered as he slowly sank to the floor.

"Couldn't you at least give a warning?!" Yeosang cried out, not wanting to uncover his eyes.

Although you were feeling sorry for the poor boy and wanted to go hug him or something, San's grip on you tightened and with one look he warned you not to move.

"Well since you're here Yeosangie....why not join us?" San smirked at his friend.

Yeosang peeked out a little.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Song Mingi:

Although Mingi was your tall and athletic boyfriend that seemed to dote on you extremely, no one knew that behind closed doors, in the 4 walls of your room, you were actually the one in charge and he was always at your mercy.

Mingi couldn't help it. He just loved you topping him, loved it when you were putting him in his place, and most of all, he loved being a good boy for you cause he knew it meant you'd make him feel so good. And that's exactly what you were doing at the moment. You were currently on top of him, grinding your slick folds along his length. Underneath you, Mingi was already a mess, sweat dripping down his face, hair stuck on his forehead. It was such an erotic visual.

Finally, his obedience paid off when you sank down on his long length, taking a moment to adjust cause boy was he big. Mingi didn't hold back his noises when you started moving on top of him. He couldn't even take his eyes off you, he loved the way your breasts bounced, he loved seeing his cock disappear inside you and then reappear, and god did he love hearing how good you felt.

"Ba-baby....I- I wanna c-cum..." Mingi could feel himself becoming undone.

"My baby wants to cum does he? Do you remember the magic words?" You smirked down at his disheveled appearance.

"Can I please cum? Pretty please?" He got out the words so fast due to his desperation.

He never got his question answered cause you were interrupted by Yunho's loud laugh in the doorway. Both of you looked like deer caught in headlights.

"Oh my god! Song Mingi is a freaking Sub?! Who would have thought?!" Yunho actually doubled over and slapped his knee at that.

Mingi was so embarrassed but so annoyed by his friend.

"Yah! Haven't you heard of knocking first?!" He screamed as he chucked a pillow at him.

Jung Wooyoung:

Wooyoung had a tendency to want to do things together with you. If you were going to dye your hair, he went with you and dyed his hair. If you were going shopping, he tagged along. Some called him clingy, but really, being an idol took up most of his time, so any spare time he had he loved spending it with you.

Right now he was enjoying the break they finally got after promotions ended, and there was nothing he loved than going out with you. You had a day full of activities and both were exhausted when you got back. You were also feeling dirty and Wooyoung suggested both of you take a shower together and you instantly agreed.

What started out as blowing bubbles at each other, ended up with you being pressed against the shower wall, Wooyoung trapping you with his body. His tongue was busy exploring every inch of your mouth as his hands gripped your ass and pulled you closer to him. His hands went to the back of your thighs and he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, easily slipping his cock inside you.

He gave you no time to adjust as he pounded harshly into you, hitting your g-spot every time he pushed himself back into you. With your heavy panting and the shower head on, neither of you heard the knock on the door nor when it opened and Seonghwa came in, eyes widening at the scene.

"What are you doing?!" His voiced boomed inside the bathroom.

Both of you were so surprise that Wooyoung almost dropped you, but luckily he didn't.

"Hyung! I can-"

But Seonghwa raised his hand.

"Don't say anything. This never happened, I never saw this. But please, lock the door next time."

Seonghwa then proceeded to walk away from there, but not before saying:

"And don't take too long! No wonder our water bill was so expensive last month!"

Choi Jongho:

Jongho wasn't a very big fan of PDA, especially not in front of his Hyungs. They already teased him too much. They teased him when they found out his crush on you, they teased him when you started dating, they teased him the first time he got jealous, it was seriously annoying. That's why you kept the affection very low so they wouldn't bother him.

So of course they never suspected that you and Jongho were actually very much active in the sexual aspect. But their fears came true one day when Jongho couldn't help himself and just threw you over his shoulder and took you to his bedroom to have his way with you.

"Oh my god! Jongho!"

You cried out as he pounded into you fiercely. With the angle he was hitting and the strength he used, it was all it took to send you over the edge, cumming all over his thick cock.

Feeling your walls clench around him, Jongho sped up, chasing his own orgasm.

"Baby, I wanna cum inside you. Let me fill up your pretty pussy with my cum?"

You nodded eagerly and that was all it took for him to spill himself inside you, pumping every last bit of cum in you. When he pulled out, he groaned at the sight of some of his cum pouring out of you.

"Fuck, you take my cum so well baby."

"Excuse me?!"

Both of you turned to the door, seeing Hongjoong's horrified expression as he took in the scene. You and Jongho scrambled to cover yourselves.

"Hyung! I swear it's not-"

"Don't deny it! I know what I saw! And you didn't even use a condom! Oh my God!"

Hongjoong covered his face before getting out his phone, dialing a number quickly.

"Seonghwa! Get your ass over here! We got a code red with Jongho, family intervention asap!"

Jongho sighed softly. "And this is exactly how I die."

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez smut

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luvteez · 4 years

Text

bassists do it deeper

pairing: yunho x genderneutral!reader genre + tags: smut, band au | kink discovery, exhibitionism, a brief segment of semi-public sex, hand kink, size kink, yunho monster cock bc this deserves a tag, power play, switch dynamics (i think??), dom!yunho pulls through in the end, unprotected sex wc: 6.3k

note: big thanks to my fav babie @lustjoong for motivating me to combine the two ideas i had for the prompt into one and motivating me to finish this!! here’s my take on the unspoken obligatory yunho size kink fic every ateez smut writer should have written once but make him a bassist. also, the band au to this pwp is literally just there as an excuse to make yeosang the lead singer of the band bc if kq won’t give yeosang lines, i will

A lot can happen throughout a single weekend, as your English professor suddenly quitting her job, your brother Yeosang almost burning down the kitchen from deep frying an egg, an influx of voicemails in your inbox all sent from Wooyoung, as well as Yeosang’s punk rock band losing a member. It’s a lot to process when all you’ve done is stay the night at Yuqi’s, even harder so when Wooyoung keeps repeating every five seconds that Seonghwa quit the band. (”Why did it have to be Seonghwa who left Stereowave? He was the hottest one!”)

That being said, you expected to come home to a beyond grumpy Yeosang who was trying to find a replacement asap. A band without a bassist sounds empty, and while Stereowave has garnered a big enough fanbase over the years that wouldn’t mind the band continuing as a trio, it just feels wrong. Besides, branding a group consisting of Yeosang the frontman, San the guitarist, Mingi the drummer, and nobody covering the bassist position a band doesn’t sit right.

You were prepared for the worst; a messy kitchen, Yeosang walking around in clothes he wore for five days straight, possibly the outbreak of World War III depending on how shitty he’s feeling. But instead, you find the kitchen exceptionally clean and Yeosang acting as if nothing ever happened.

“Can you help set up the camera? The guys and I wanna film a new song.”

“Uh, sure,” you answer irritatedly. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about finding a replacement for Seonghwa though?”

“Oh, we already have a new bassist,” he waves off casually, “What are you gaping at? Shut that jaw of yours before flies fly into your nasty mouth.”

“First of all, rude.” Yeosang rolls his eyes at that comment. For a split second, you’re contemplating letting him figure out on his own how to use the camera because he’s the walking embodiment of a technology illiterate, but your curiosity about the new band member is bigger. “But how did you manage to find a new replacement so fast? It’s been like, what, a day since Seonghwa left?”

Yeosang sighs. “He’s been thinking of quitting for weeks now, so I had enough time to look for a new bassist. It’s not that big of a deal anyway.”

And this is exactly why you should never get dicked down by your bandmate several times in a month, you think to yourself. Seonghwa and Yeosang thought they were slick, but everyone figured they were more than friends. Needless to say, it was only a matter of time until the strain of their relationship wreaked havoc within the band.

“So,” you say as you two walk to the makeshift studio in the basement, “Is the new guy good? What’s his name?”

The change of topic makes Yeosang relax visibly. There’s a sheepish smile on his face and he replies, “You’ll see.”

You arch a brow. For some reason, that doesn’t settle comfortably in your gut. Then there’s the fact that Yeosang is slightly skipping, and that makes you more concerned than relieved. Because Yeosang barely skips, only when he’s being petty and is planning on pranking somebody. (Most of the time, it’s San.)

The faint vibrations of drums and guitars ring in your ears before you step a foot into the basement. Mingi is the first to acknowledge your presence, immediately dampening the cymbals before waving at you. That causes the other two guys to stop playing their instruments and turn their heads around. You greet San like you normally do, and when your eyes flit to the new addition, all brightness drops from your face.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Yunho cocks his head to the side almost tauntingly, eyes challenging. The corners of his mouth quirk upwards, though more with the intention of saying hah you thought you’d never see me again. “Hello to you too, honey. Looks like fate brought us together once more, eh?”

You blink multiple times to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. To your dismay, they sure aren’t. It really is Yunho standing right next to an utterly confused San, and the bass in his hands just confirms it furthermore.

“Since when do you play an instrument?” you gawk. There’s no fucking way he could’ve had time to pick up music, not when his schedule was already jammed with basketball training and student council activities. Then again, that was his schedule in middle school.

“Since I was fifteen,” he drawls, unaffected by your outburst. “Any other questions, honey? Preferably something along the lines of how have you been? I expected a warmer welcome from you, not gonna lie.”

“What does Yeosang even see in you?” you splutter instead, disgust prevalent in your voice.

“Talent. Believe it or not.”

“Guys, no fighting,” Yeosang warns, but you’re too busy sending Yunho daggers and every pg rated curse under the sun your brain can wrack up.

Meanwhile, San shifts his weight on one leg awkwardly and asks in the background as your verbal dispute continues, “Are they exes or something?”

“Nah, just childhood enemies,” Mingi mumbles, clearly used to your interactions to the point where he’s becoming bored of it. He’s heard all the profanities too many times coming out from the same mouth, hence why he isn’t as disturbed as San is.

“Listen up, you piec—“

“(y/n), the camera. Help your older brother out, will ya?” Yeosang cuts you off urgently, the warning tone in his words hard to miss.

“Yeah, help your brother out, shorty,” Yunho snickers. Appalled by his blatant shamelessness, you scowl.

“I’m not that short—!”

“Still shorter than I am, shorty. Or do you prefer honey?”

World War III would’ve broken out right then and there if it weren’t for Yeosang’s death glare — you know, the look he has etched on his face whenever he means business and is willing to go so far and expose all of the nasty mishaps you’ve done in middle school, which is definitely something that should never see the light of day.

“I prefer neither,” you mutter after weighing the gravity of Yeosang’s wrath, avoiding any eyes before you set up the camera. Luckily, nobody further comments on that and eventually, everybody resumes practicing their parts of the songs.

Just in time as Mingi takes another short break to chug his water down, you stumble across a problem. “Uh, Yeosang? You should buy a new camera. This is still usable, but you might have to reset every ten minutes or so.”

A groan leaves him, followed by a shrill guitar riff, and you can see that he’d prefer death over spending money for a new one. “Can’t you just stay here during practice and reset it? You also get to hear some new tracks of the upcoming EP!” That fucker, he’s just too lazy to run forward and press a button every few minutes.

“I have to be on standby for the Block B ticket sale,” you lie. Technically, it’s not really a lie because you do plan on going to the Block B concert with Wooyoung, but 1) the ticket sale isn’t even today and 2) it’s always Wooyoung who buys the tickets. Yeosang doesn’t need to know that though. Any excuse is better than having to sit through practice and see if Yunho is as good as he claims.

Seems like Yeosang desperately doesn’t want to keep running back and forth to reset the camera as he suddenly says, “You can do it here too.” You would argue that the garage has its separate WiFi and only the band members have access to it, but then: “You can use my laptop instead.”

And letting you use his laptop is something he never does. You failed to submit an assignment in time because your own laptop broke down and he didn’t let you borrow his computer for even that.

“Fine,” you sigh in defeat. Yeosang thanks you with a smile so obnoxiously sweet it makes you gag. When all he gets in return from you is the middle finger, his demeanor drops and he mutters something inaudible under his breath, pointing to the small table at the side where all their phones and laptops are lying before he goes back to the others.

Once all four of them are in position and ready to play, you press the record button before flipping yourself onto the old patchwork couch Yeosang bought at a garage sale for only thirty quid a few years back. To your surprise, Yeosang’s MacBook is already unlocked, the default wallpaper of mountains and northern lights quite jarring to your eyes.

When given the rare chance to have unlimited access to your sibling’s devices, it’s self-explanatory what to do. You either a) go through all of their accounts and find as much dirt as possible about them that serves as good material for future blackmail purposes or b) sign them up to as many online subscriptions as possible that will make them go crazy. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work on Yeosang because 1) he doesn’t mind online subscriptions, and 2) he never checks his email account, hence why his inbox is filled with over 2000 mails, a third of them most likely unopened. On top of that, his MacBook is strictly meant for work, so if you really wanted to find out his most embarrassing secrets, your only shot is his phone.

That being said, you’re left with option c) which is checking out Block B’s concert merch since that’s the only sensible thing you can do right now. Forget productivity; that isn’t doable when Yeosang’s deep timbre is blaring in your ears along with the instruments. To be honest, you really enjoy Stereowave’s music and that’s on their music, not because your brother is the lead singer. You’ve enjoyed each of their performances and perhaps you’ve been indulging in the privilege of hearing their new songs first.

But now that Yunho’s involved, suddenly the prospect of having a new favorite band sounds tempting. What was Yuqi’s favorite band again? Day6? You should take a closer look at their discography.

As much as you want to mute the sound, from San’s riffs to Mingi’s drum solo, you fail to do so. One moment you’re opening the search browser, and in the next, your eyes are set on the group. They’re practicing like they usually do; fun etched on their faces as they lose themselves in the music. Yeosang is singing as if he was performing in front of a million viewers while San improvises a solo on a whim. Mingi messes up the beat for a split second after failing to catch his stick and somehow, your eyes have zoomed in on Yunho. It doesn’t take you five seconds to realize:

Yunho is good.

While he might not seem as fired up as the other three, he’s visibly relaxed. Just like Seonghwa, he plays smoothly and isn’t overpowered by the others, but he seems to have an easier time gliding his fingers across the fingerboard. The bassline is easy to filter out, not the generic pattern you can find in every second pop song, yet still compliments the other instruments.

He can play, fair game. However, that’s the least of your worries. You’re more attentive to the ratio of his hands to the bass. His hands are larger than Seonghwa’s by far, no doubt. That makes sense given his height, maybe an inch taller than Mingi. But Mingi doesn’t have that big hands. Doesn’t that mean that Yunho’s body is disproportional?

Before you know it, you drag your gaze from his shoes up to his legs and stop at his hands briefly, only to proceed upwards until you see the cocky smirk and amused eyes directed at you. All clogs in your brain come to a stillstand and despite that, that’s when you realize you’ve been 1) enjoying his music, 2) checking him out, and 3) checking him out and caught red-handed.

It feels as if you were living on the sun instead of on Earth as you burn up in embarrassment. Knowing there’s no way you can deflect what you just did, you quickly turn back to the laptop, the Google search bar staring back at you.

You’re about to type in something when the search history pops up, catching your eyes. A gasp leaves you but it goes under the music, everyone too immersed in their own thing to notice the prevalent horror settling on your face.

exhibitionism

getting off in public

best crowded places to have sex and get away with it

You blink, thinking that your sleep deprivation got the worst out of you and that you’ve finally reached the stage where you start hallucinating. Except, you know you’re not hallucinating. After going through the words again and again, you know that you’re really not fucking hallucinating and that your nonexistent sleep cycle isn’t as bad as Yuqi makes it out to be.

When you said you wanted to dig up dirt on your brother, you didn’t mean it in the form of his kinks. Money can’t buy everything, but how you wish it could so you could unsee that shocking discovery.

Since this is Yeosang’s work computer and he’s signed into his Google account, he must make use of the drive to save a copy of his ideas. It probably won’t amount to anything since he’s the walking embodiment of staying unbothered, but writing him a note on his docs about how he’s made your life worse by not clearing his search history is better than staying silent.

You click on the little icon on the top right corner, expecting to see Yeosang’s name right above the email address. But then you see Yunho’s name instead, and suddenly everything makes much more sense.

This was never Yeosang’s laptop to begin with.

To say you’re at a loss of words is an understatement. There’s no way someone could have as little self-awareness and leave their laptop unlocked, let alone Yunho out of all people. Then again, the last thing you expected from him was to play the bass and blend well with the rest of the band as if he’s always been the bassist of Stereowave and not the newly found replacement.

This is absolutely bonkers. But:

You could have fun with it. Maybe it’s for the better that money can’t buy everything.

Besides dozens of articles about semi-public sex and even a blogpost titled Shagging in Broad Daylight for Dummies, his search history of the last 24 hours consists of many forum links discussing the morality of exhibitionism, conspiracy theories, and hand care guides. You wheeze when you see the private playlist he saved on his YouTube account; a collection of videos about filing your nails properly and the best hand cream brands for dry skin.

Yeosang calls in for a break, and everyone’s grateful for it. San lets out a relieved noise as he places his guitar on the stand before catching the water bottle Mingi chucks at him.

“My arms are beat,” Mingi complains.

San sends him an incredulous look and snorts, “All you do is bang! crash! ppang! while my throat is fucked! And so are my legs!”

“Not my fault if you keep doing your high pitched oows! while jumping around like a— like a cricket!”

“A cricket? Are you serious?”

“I’m tired, okay!”

“Then that means we should call it a day and go home and rest, right?”

“Choi San, I think you’re onto something.”

“Absolutely not,” Yeosang deadpans, causing the bickering duo to pout in sync. “We have lots to do especially since Yunho’s now part of the band.” When all he’s met with is an attempt of cute puppy eyes that rather looks like a bad rendition of any horror movie featuring creepy dolls, Yeosang sighs, “I ordered chicken for dinner and yes, it’s on me.”

In an instant, Mingi and San’s faces brighten up and they’re celebrating as if they won a free cruise to the Bahamas. They don’t hesitate to envelop Yeosang in a bear hug, crushing the life out of him. A chuckle escapes you at the sight of your brother wringing for his sanity. Sometimes you wonder how on Earth those three guys are the same three guys who perform in abandoned warehouses, jamming out their punk rock songs while looking all edgy (in a cool way that has at least half of their fans thirsting after them).

Meanwhile, Yunho drops himself on the other end of the couch. Propping his right leg on the coffee table in front, he digs around in his pockets before pulling something out.

“Since when do you file your nails?” You pointedly raise a brow at him. Although your extensive research on his browser history already answered that question, you ask him just for the sake of it.

“Hand care is important, shorty,” Yunho replies, keeping his eyes trained on his fingers as he works the file around a nail. “If Kageyama Tobio files his nails, I can too. But enough with the small talk, what do you want?”

“I didn’t peg you as an exhibitionist.”

His hand stops moving. Yunho looks up at you, irritation written all over his features. “Because I file my nails...? A bold assumption, honey.”

There’s a reason why Yunho has always gotten away with pretty much everything. He’s a good actor who’s able to feign innocence at any time. His posture is relaxed, voice genuinely sounding flabbergasted that not even your shit-eating grin can throw him off guard.

You can’t, but your proof will do the job.

“I never said it’s because of your hand fixation.” You turn the laptop screen his way and once his eyes flicker on it and decipher the words, his face falls. Gone is the faux-confusion; as all color drains from him, his eyes look like they’re about to fall out of their sockets. “Is it really a bold assumption now, honey?”

Yunho inhales sharply when you scoot closer to him and put a firm hand on his left leg, his laptop now closed and long forgotten. Your fingers are placed too high for it to be friendly, skimming lightly on the inside of his thigh. Yeosang and the others are busy minding their own business but the chance of getting caught in the act is still there. The simple realization has adrenaline running a hundred miles an hour in your veins, and with the way Yunho clenches his jaw — a desperate attempt to fight the groan that’s threatening in the back of his throat — you’re not the only one who’s aroused by the setup.

Slowly, your hand inches closer to his growing bulge. Before you can dare yet another experimental squeeze, Yunho’s hand surges forward and holds your wrist in a vice grip.

“Don’t,” he snarls through gritted teeth, but it sounds sadder than it is intimidating when he’s sporting a boner right in front of your eyes.

You cock your head to the side, almost in a mocking demeanor. “You sure? Think about it, it’s a win-win situation. You get to live out your exhibitionist right here in front of your new bandmates, and I get the confirmation that you’re into it. But if you really don’t want to…” you try to retreat your hand but Yunho doesn’t let you budge, hand still enclosed around yours. That won’t do as an answer.

“Which one is it? Say it, Yunho,” you assert, narrowing your eyes. Yunho looks distraught, feverishly biting his lip while he’s internally fighting with himself, but he eventually chokes out a response.

“As long as nobody notices—”

“You either say you want me to touch you or not. I don’t want any roundabout stories.”

“Touch me,” he whispers defeatedly and the grip on your hand disappears completely. “But I swear to God if anyone realizes what you’re doing— hhnh—!” he cuts himself off with a low moan when you cup him over the material of his jeans.

“Yes yes, I get it. I don’t need Yeosang to know about this,” you dismiss. “And oh wow, you’re getting hard fast when I’m just touching you over your pants.”

“Just get to it.”

The snappish attitude causes you to stop dead in your tracks. “You think you’re in the position to tell me what to do? I can be mean too, y’know,” you start nonchalantly, a stark contrast to the way your heart is shaking in your ribcage. The power you suddenly hold is exhilarating. “I could just leave you like this, and then you’d have to try to cover your situation down there while practice goes on. How would the others react if they only knew your dick is hard? Probably won’t take them too long to find out since standing for a long time can be tiring, hm?”

Yunho’s head lolls back in response as he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. His breathing is uneven and the resulting moan that follows suit makes you smirk. You lightly smack the inside of his thigh, causing another wave of arousal to rupture in him. He chokes out a hushed ‘f-fuck’ and at this point, the constriction around his cock must be bordering painful.

“Who would’ve thought that the big bad Jeong Yunho is actually a submissive bitch who’s hungry for attention?” you ask gleefully, delivering another slap before stroking the area. “Who would’ve fucking thought you were a sub?”

“I-I’m not— shit, s-stop that, hngh— a fucking sub.”

“Yeah yeah, say that to yourself.” You rip your gaze away from Yunho’s flushed face to check if the coast is clear before targeting his fisted hands. He stiffens when you pry his hand open and bring three digits to your lips, sticking your tongue out to give kitten licks to his fingertips before pushing them into your mouth. You hum, suck, swirl your tongue around his fingers, giggling when all he does is stare at you wordlessly, unable to form any coherent thoughts. “See? Not even once have you put up a fight.”

That seems to snap him out of his daze. In an instant, his eyes darken and his jaw clenches.

“Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn’t tease me.”

You snicker, seeing through his bluff. “Wow, I’m so scared. What do you wanna do? Leave practice right now? Drag me to my room and pound me into the mattress?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“You could never, sub.”

Whatever strands of self-control were still residing in Yunho have turned to dust by now. One moment he’s towering over you in full height, looking down on your sitting form in bitter distaste, and in the next, he’s dragging you out of the basement, unaffected by the sudden silence and Yeosang, Mingi and San’s confused expressions.

Once you’re in the living room, Yunho wastes no time crowding you against the wall and crashing his lips against yours. The kiss is a messy clash of teeth and tongues, but it leaves you hot and lightheaded and aching for more. Yunho knows no limits and snakes one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, the other hand fisting your hair. He tugs harshly and the sharp sting sends all your nerves into a frenzy.

“Bedroom. Now.” The sudden huskiness in his tone catches you off guard and you wonder when his voice has ever sounded so rough. You moan into the kiss, fisting his shirt as you stumble your way to your bedroom.

Yunho pins you against the door once you’re in your bedroom. His lips are addictive, just like the groans he slips in kisses and his hands roaming your body. He gets rid of your clothes until you’re left in your underwear, then forces a knee between your legs to keep them from closing. Your eyes roll back at the friction, growing needier and hotter when he presses his thigh against you harder.

When you finally pull away, his eyes are hooded and his lips are red and swollen. There’s no trace of inhibitions left in him as he watches you like a predator. With horror, you realize that the tables have turned, and when he easily locks both of your wrists above your head with one hand only, that’s when you know you’re undisputedly powerless against him.

“Who’s the sub now?” he pants, eyes sparkling with glee.

“Still y-you.” The response sounds pathetic to your own ears, but you have too big of an ego to admit it out loud. Yunho doesn’t buy it either if his quirked brow wasn’t telling enough.

“Still in denial, honey? I see. Guess I’ll have to do more then.” His free hand reaches down to tug on the waistband of your underwear, only to let it snap against your skin. The slight sting is enough to render your knees into mush and set fog into your vision. He does it again, and then he actually tugs the fabric down and you finally grab his motives.

“You’re bluffing— y-you wouldn’t put y-your fingers,” you ramble, hyperaware about how dangerously close his fingers are. Just when you think he’s about to shove a digit in, he pulls away completely.

“You know, you keep talking about my hands. It’s always my hands this, my hands that,” Yunho says casually, giving his nails a quick glance before meeting your eyes. “Rather than me having a hand fixation, it’s you who has a thing for hands. My hands specifically.”

You don’t like how every word is true. You don’t want to acknowledge that he’s correct. Verbally, because your body is moving on its own and has betrayed you long ago.

Yunho taps on your bottom lip and you comply reluctantly, letting him shove the same three fingers you sucked before. Mumbling unintelligible words under his breath, he watches intently as you hum around him, eyes fluttering shut when he slowly moves them in and out of your mouth. A whine escapes you when he pulls them out for good, soaked wet with your spit.

“Tell me.” Yunho grins, “Tell me what you like about them. Or else I’ll leave you hanging.” He’s not lying and you know it. The look he sends you is enough proof that he wouldn’t hesitate to leave you high and dry.

You don’t like how he’s stringing you on like a rag doll. You don’t like how he’s stripping you off your dignity step by step. Strangely enough, you feel yourself leaking and wanting nothing but his pretty long fingers inside of you.

“I like how they, agh I— I l-like how—” you stutter, losing all levels of rationality when he suddenly circles around your entrance. Yunho urges you to continue and it takes up all of your brainpower to pick up where you left off, “—they’re so long and big and pretty—”

“So you have a size kink.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Now that, that’s something he shouldn’t have deduced. “W-wha— I don’t!”

“Seems to me that you have one though. You kept stressing how big and bad and tall I was after all.” You stiffen. Did you? Did you really? You don’t recall saying it that many times but it's hard to think straight when Yunho still has your wrists above your head and is looking down at you in a downright patronizing way. It leaves you trembling pitifully, feeling called out and feeling so, so small.

He really wants you to hit your lowest peak because he doesn’t stop there. “Who’s the real sub here? Is it really me? Or is it you who likes feeling so short, small, tiny.” His smirk widens when your breath hitches ever so slightly. “I fucking knew it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you bark back, but to no avail. Your credibility has diminished the moment he caught up to your kinks.

“Say whatever you want but that won’t change the fact that you’re tiny baby,” he pauses, takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he’s giving you a thorough once-over and then enunciates the next syllables with such clarity that forces time to stop, “My tiny, helpless baby.”

The pet name breaks you. It’s the final trigger that takes all your inhibitions away and the pathetic size of an ego that was left in your stubborn head.

“Please,” your voice cracks but that’s the least of your worries. You can’t move, can’t talk back, and won’t get anything in return. Yunho is right in front of you, finding satisfaction in your internal destruction and yet, after all of the things he’s slaughtered you to, he won’t give you anything in return.

“Just a little bit more, baby. I’ll give you what you want if you repeat after me; I’m your—”

“I’m your tiny, helpless baby who desperately wants you to fuck me.” Yunho is mildly taken aback that you were still able to think and get it right before he even finished his sentence. “Now get on to it, Yunho. Please.”

You’re sniffling at this point, begging for any kind of stimulation that shoots you to the stars. You’re fucking sniffling, and that’s all it takes for Yunho to manhandle you on the bed. A gasp escapes you, not expecting this turn of events at all. It all happens in a flash and the next thing you know, you’re on all fours, face buried in the pillow.

“Yunho, I t-thought y-you’d fuck me,” you complain, glancing behind to see what’s taking him so long. Your mouth waters at the sight.

“Patience, baby,” he says as he’s unbuckling his belt, taking his sweet time. You rub your legs together to ease the tension, but you can’t really say you’re not enjoying the show. Yunho’s lean, slightly defined, and once he’s only left in his underwear, you swallow heavily. There’s a large, dark patch on the fabric and the bulge seems more prominent than before.

If your mouth was only watering, you’re drooling by now. Yunho takes off his boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, tip red and oozing precum. Just like the rest of him, he’s abnormally huge.

You have two thoughts. One: Fuck, you want him. Now. Two:

“That’s never going to fit inside of me.”

“Oh it will,” he says with such confidence it gives you shivers. “I’ll pound you into the mattress and you’ll take it all.”

He grabs you by your thighs to pull you closer to him before positioning himself right behind you. “W-wait!” you cry, heart suddenly feeling heavy in your chest, “D-don’t just put it in without prep— o-oh, hnngh—” your body feels like jelly when Yunho presses two spit-coated fingers past your entrance, stretching you out with finesse.

“I’m not that heartless,” he chuckles amusedly, right at the same time he curls his digits right against your sweet spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. “You’re so small you wouldn’t be able to take an inch without prep.”

You only whine into the pillow, arching your back as he continues his ministrations. Once Yunho deems you stretched out enough, he retreats his fingers and replaces them immediately with his cock.

The difference is like night and day. It’s like his fingers didn’t amount to anything compared to this. The high-pitched cry that escapes you is loud as you grasp onto the pillow for dear life.

“How can you be so big?” you pant. There’s no way he’s past four inches deep inside of you. You’re far from being filled, but your walls are already clenching hard around him.

“Bassists do it deeper for a reason.” The innuendo is tacky but in your current headspace, it sounds like the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Yunho stills his hips, letting you get used to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Guh—” he chuckles at your inability to form coherent words, let alone thoughts. “So big.”

“You’ll get used to it, honey.” He leans forward to pet your hair. “Tell me when I can move,” he adds gently, and you swear you could melt right then.

It takes you a moment to get your breathing steady, and then he pushes more of his length inside. Whimpering, you writhe beneath him, feeling as if you’re being torn apart. Meanwhile, he’s breathing hard through his nose, trying his damn hardest to go as slow as possible. At a certain point, Yunho stops pressing for more and pulls out ever so slightly before rocking his hips back forward. It starts out slowly, but he gradually picks up the pace and you lose yourself into him.

“Faster,” you moan, bending your back for an even deeper angle. “Hnngh, so full. Want m-more.”

“You were right, you can’t take me to the hilt.” Yunho readjusts his grip on his hips and you know that bruises are going to last until the end of the week. “God, you’re so fucking small that you can’t take me to the fucking hilt.”

Your vision turns foggy once the meaning gets through you. Now that he’s saying it, how much of his cock is inside of you? Half of it? A third? He’s stretching you out so well, filling you up so impossibly deep and that wasn’t even his everything?

“That’s not— want more of you, all of you,” you stammer, not realizing what you’re even saying. “Baby wants all of you.” God, you’re so drunk and desperate for his cock that you can’t refer yourself in the first person anymore.

Yunho reacts just as perplexed, eyes widening. His hips still once more, and though you’d want to shout at him to keep on moving, you don’t find the energy to move your head, or even lift a finger.

“So fucking greedy,” he growls, pulling out of you completely. Not even a second later, he flips you around on your back so that you’re facing him dead in the eye, and then he pushes back in. The new position has you gurgling on broken words as your arms flail around for dear life.

Yunho throws a leg over his shoulder, creating a deeper angle. You don’t know if he’s actually giving you more if he’s managed to force more of him into you. All you register is the messy squelch of liquids and your moans bouncing off the walls. You can’t even see properly, everything a blur and a mix of different colors.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, sensing your demise nearing closer and closer.

“Then cum,” Yunho orders in between groans, then adds in a louder voice, “You hear that baby? Cum and make a mess out of yourself.”

Your orgasm crashes onto you in a big singular wave as you tremble under his frame, walls clenching around him tightly. His name leaves your mouth like a mantra as you continue to convulse. Yunho pulls out moments later, just to spurt white on your abdomen. His face is flushed and beads of sweat are forming on his forehead while he jerks himself dry.

It’s a miracle that Yunho hasn’t toppled on you once he slowly comes down from his high. The fog in your vision clears up gradually, but your limbs are as good as worthless. You won’t be able to move freely for a good day or two.

As you continue to blink at the ceiling, only finding the energy to breathe, Yunho grabs the box of tissues from your nightstand and wipes himself off before doing the same to you. His touch is gentle unlike before, and you’d thank him if your vocal cords were still functioning.

You’re about to drift to sleep until he suddenly leans down and pecks your lips. In an instant, you narrow your eyes at him and ask, “What was that for?”

“You had some cum on your lip. I wanted to taste too.” Yunho smiles cheekily and runs his tongue against his bottom lip, then grimaces. “It tastes... yikes.”

He cleans you up in silence before plopping onto the bed right next to you. No words are exchanged up until you say, “Yeosang is going to kill you.”

“He can’t afford to kill me. He needs me for the band,” he muses.

“He’ll still kill you.”

“I appreciate the concern, honey.”

“Just scram back to practice.”

“Don’t you want to go to the bathroom first?”

“I can do it myself.”

“Oh really?”

“... Yunho, help me on my legs and then scram back to practice.”

Meanwhile, back in the basement, the guys are waiting for their bandmate to come back so they can finally finish practice and then eat chicken.

“You sure (y/n) and Yunho are only childhood enemies? They’ve been going at it like rabbits if he isn’t back here yet!” San exclaims, throwing his arms up for dramatic effect.

Mingi can’t counter that because San has a point, so he whips his head to Yeosang. “Dude, you sure they’re not in a relationship? They have to be at least fuckbuddies! Or fuckrivals? Fuckenemies? Or…”

“I do not know and I do not care,” Yeosang says blankly, looking like he’s about to bang his head against the wall because he sure won’t walk into your room and curse his eyes for the rest of his life. Damnit, all he wants is to practice and get the band together; their next gig is only a few weeks away. “In fact, I want to unsee what I just saw and unhear what you just said.”

#blame 5*os for the creation of the band au idea #ateez smut #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #ateez hard hours #atz smut #luvsmut #the ending is rushed oopsie but i never know how to end smut scenes ahahaha

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hongism · 4 years

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mists of celeste ➻ sixteen

➻ pairing: ot8 x fem!reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 10.7k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, knives, mild torture scene ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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mists of celeste act two ➻ part six

Darkness swirls across your vision even as your eyelids flutter open. The air around you feels chilly and almost brittle, a sharp tension that you almost inhale as you breathe. You lift your head, noticing a dull ache in your muscles, and try to move your hands. You can’t, however. In fact, you can’t even move your arms. What feels like needles blossoms across your arms and wrists. You twist and writhe in attempts to figure out what the hell is going on, but panic is beginning to settle in and you still can see nothing thanks to whatever is over your eyes. Your legs are in a similar predicament; stuck in place with pain blossoming around your ankles when you try to yank them forward.

Something catches you by the hair and tugs back, and you nearly cry out from the sheer surprise but you can’t. You finally notice the bindings around your mouth as well, shoved between your teeth and pressing against your tongue every time you move it. You can see now, however, a blessing for sure. That is until you realize where you are and what is going on.

Your vision adjusts slowly, the minimal light in the room filtering in slowly, and you can make out a few silhouettes surroundings you. One stands directly in front of you, and you can’t make out who the hell it is until the person takes a step forward. Light from above casts crude shadows across her features, making her seem ten times harsher than the first time you saw her. Taskmaster Cara. You thrash against your bonds in attempts to get lose but it’s pointless. The Berserker toys with a small knife, the blade long and curved, and the only thing you feel in that moment is panic. She leans down when your glare hardens on her. A cruel smile plays at her lips, and she tilts her head to the side.

“Did you have a nice sleep?”

You couldn’t respond even if you wanted to but you settle for gritting your teeth around the gag between your lips. Your stare doesn’t waver or falter, but Cara is unamused by your show of defiance. She draws ever closer, the tip of her knife coming up to drag over your cheek. It’s not enough pressure to cut the skin but if you even breathe the wrong way she could cut into you with ease. You tilt your head back nonetheless, and Cara digs the blade a little deeper.

The skin stings as she drags the blade over it, and it burns like a papercut. Hot blood trickles down your cheek.

“Did you really think you were clever enough to escape me? Now you have nowhere to run. A mouse trapped for the cat to eat. Lucky for me, the bounty for you being delivered dead is still quite hefty. I’ll take your lifeless body to the military and rules the black seas. But–” Cara pauses and leans away from you with the same smirk blossoming on her lips “–not before I have a little fun.”

The woman pulls back without saying another word, standing up straight once more. She continues to twirl the knife in her hands and passes it from hand to hand as she drags her gaze over you. You twist a little in the chair you’re bound to. The blood from your cheek catches on your jawline and ceases its hot path down your face.

A laugh leaves her lips, and she turns away from you, obviously satisfied with her work already.

“Wake him up.” She jerks her head. You aren’t sure what she means by that, but upon looking past her tall form, you can see another limp form in a chair opposite you. They have bindings across their ankles, chest, and arms just like you do with a gag to match. A black hood masks their face, but something tells you that you don’t want to know who sits behind the material. A figure moves behind the person though, and the black hood is ripped out with no shortage of ferocity. Your blood runs cold. You don’t move but your body instinctually begins to trembles against the ropes around you.

It takes a moment for reality to settle in, but when it does, you begin thrashing against the bindings around you in a desperate attempt to get out. Before you know it, your eyes are stinging and burning with unshed tears because this has to be a nightmare, this can’t be real, and this sure as hell cannot be happening. There’s no way you’re here right now, and there’s no way that San is tied to the chair across from you.

He is still unconscious, although based on the look on Cara’s face that won’t last for long, and your suspicions are correct. The person behind San grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks him back.

“Wake the fuck up!” The man shouts into San’s ear, and San jerks back into a state of full consciousness. He groans as he wakes, the sound a bit muffled by the gag between his lips, and his head slumps forward again when the man behind him lets go of his hair.

“San, San, San. Aren’t you going to wake up to see this?” Cara clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, turning back to you with a sinister look in her eyes. You tug at the ropes over your wrists. They’re tied too tight for you to wiggle out of, and you gnaw on the inside of your cheek when Cara approaches you with knife in hand again. She lifts the blade to your other cheek, toying with your skin without slicing it open. “Look here, Sannie. I have a surprise for you.”

San’s chin bobs a little then he pulls his head up. Eyes find yours in an instant. A second passes then San is jerking and writhing in his binds, yelling around the gag in his mouth. The sounds remain muffled and broken though, all ineffective and useless in the long run because Cara just keeps dragging the tip of the knife over your skin.

“Keep him still, Cyrus. He needs to see every second of this.”

The man behind San moves froward again and grabs his hair, forcing him to sit relatively still. It doesn’t stop San from thrashing and yelling through the gag. Cara throws her head back and lets a loud laugh loose. The sound echoes through the building, bouncing off the walls and ceiling until it rings in your ears.

“Come on, Sannie. It’s just like old times. Why aren’t you happy? Isn’t this fun?”

Cara pushes a lilt into her tone, motioning over to where you’re seated with the knife. Her laugh continues to ring as she draws closer to you and circles around the back of your chair.

“Don’t you remember how things used to be? How we used to play? The captain used to string people up like this for you all the time. Let you play God without consequence.”

Cara presses forward and her chin comes to rest on your shoulder. You prepare to slam your head against hers but the icy chill of the blade brushes over the skin of your throat. You freeze under the touch, eyes meeting San’s across the room. He looks ready to murder, and his body goes completely still just like yours.

“You deserve to see the consequences of your actions, Sannie. Coming here wasn’t just suicide. It was murder.” Cara shifts the knife just a little, but in your mind, it feels like much more. “Because now you aren’t going to be the only one to die. You will be the last to die, however, because I want you to watch every second of my torture on your little friend here.” The Berserker pauses to look at your face, bringing the knife up to drag over the cut already on your cheek. “I still remember your cruel methods, Sannie. Would you like to see them replicated on her now?”

San jerks upon hearing the words, straining against the ropes around him and struggling to no avail. Cara releases a dramatic gasp.

“Does she not know? Sannie, aren’t you proud of your past? Proud of all the pain you caused? Those cruel little methods you always used? Why can’t you tell her about your past?” Cara pushes the knife back down to your throat but this time she digs it a little bit deeper against your skin. You grit your teeth around the gag and squeeze your eyes shut as tight as possible. Your breathing has quickened too much in a short amount of time, and you’re fully aware that if it gets any worse then you’ll start to hyperventilate and that’s the last thing you need at the moment. It’s difficult to convince your body to shut up and listen to your mind’s desperate pleas to slow your breathing though; much more difficult than you anticipated.

You’ve been through shit like this before, Y/N. Just breathe. Been through worse actually. You’ll be fine now. Absolutely fine. Just focus on what’s important.

Your eyelids snap open and you look directly at San. Something is different this time. This time you aren’t alone. You’ve only ever been alone in the past, but now you aren’t. You didn’t have to look after someone else – nor did you want that responsibility – but seeing San struggling against the ropes and screaming around the gag… you need to get San out of here. You need to get him away, you have to, you have to keep him from ending up like you or worse.

Teeth sink into the tip of your tongue, and you inhale a deep breath. The pressure of the blade against your neck increases as you shift under Cara’s touch. Her other hand moves to your hair, locking in the strands and tugging your head back until you are eye level with San. You know that she’s trying to force you to look at San, but you don’t do what she wants. Instead, your gaze drifts around the building in search of any possible opens or escape routes. The Berserker behind you begins to speak to San again, giving you time to look around as best you can without irritating her.

“Cyrus, pull the gag off. I want to hear him beg.” The man does as asked, tugging the cloth until it falls loosely, and San spurs the movements on by spitting it out of his mouth as soon as he can.

“You fucking cunt, I’ll murder you if it’s the last thing I do. You won’t walk out of here alive, I will make sure of it because if you so much as hurt a single hair on her head, then I will draw out your miserable life until you’re the one begging for mercy.”

“Oh, ho, ho! Sannie, those are such big words. Almost like old times except with a lot more fury in them. That’s your weakness.” Cara tugs your hair more until it hurts, and you whimper behind the gag. “Big talk for someone tied to a chair without weapons and surrounded by a whole crew of bandits and pirates. You’ve gotten reckless beyond belief. And for what? For one criminal who is worth more money than you have ever seen in your life? You’ve gone soft.”

She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth again. Her hand slides the knife further down and catches on your collarbone. With one quick motion, she slices the skin open, leaving a shallow cut. You hiss around the cloth between your teeth and bite down hard to keep from crying out. You shift your gaze to look over at San to gauge his expression. He thrashes in his chair, slamming his feet against the ground so hard that it causes his chair to tip backward. He knocks into the thug behind him, but the angle causes him to fall on his side. There isn’t any time for him to move before another pirate comes up on the side and presses a hefty boot on the side of San’s face. It keeps him stuck against the dirty floor, facing where you’re sitting. Cara’s demeaning laugh rings in your ears over and over.

She pulls the knife away from your chest, and as she moves it, you catch the sight of crimson on the blade. Cara’s eyes trail over the liquid with a cruel smirk. She grabs hold of your chin, stepping around you and leaning over so that you are eye level.

“You know… there’s an old Tibehken legend my mother used to tell me every night. With each life you take, the darker your blood becomes. The way to know if someone is truly evil is to cut them open and see if their blood runs black.” Her gaze shifts over to where San is lying on the floor. “Her blood is red, Sannie, which makes her an innocent. Even better for me because now I get to make you watch me take an innocent’s life. Because of you did. How dramatic.”

San writhes against the boot on top of him, shaking his head as best he can.

“Don’t. Don’t hurt her. God, please don’t hurt her. I’ll do anything. Yo-You can take me. T-Take me, torture me, use me as a weapon, kill me. Anything. Anything you want, Cara. Please. Please don’t hurt her. She doesn’t deserve this, she’s innocent. This has nothing to do with her. This is between you and me, please. Just let her go and don’t hurt her.” San’s voice is desperate and pleading, the small stutters in his tone only serving to cause your heart to plummet further. You try to shake your response, calling out behind the gag in attempts to tell him no. Cara hesitates. She twirls the knife again.

“That’s a hefty promise,” she mutters. The smirk never leaves her lips. “I can take that deal with ease though. No questions asked.”

You cry out again around the gag as though it will change her mind. She turns to you and yanks the cloth of your gag down to your neck. She stops there though, not moving to touch the ropes binding your body to the chair.

“All you want is for me not to hurt her?” Cara quirks a brow, then motions for someone to come to her side.

You don’t see it coming. A fist connects with the side of your head, and your vision blurs. You cry out at the sudden impact, the shock of it startling you more than the pain itself.

“Stop! You said we had a deal!” San shouts, thrashing against the ground.

“I’m doing exactly what you wanted, Sannie!” Cara laughs, lifting her hands above her head to accentuate her words. She passes the knife over to your new attacker. “I’m not hurting her. Not myself, at least. And that’s what you asked for.”

“You knew what I fucking meant!” San growls. “Yo–”

Whatever he was going to say next is cut off by a cry of pain falling from your lips. The knife drags over the other side of your collarbone, and you twist away from the blade to no avail.

“I’m going to fucking kill you. I’ll murder you, you wo–”

“You should behave,” Cara sighs, picking at one of her nails with little interest. “Otherwise, your cute little friend here is going to end up in strips because of all the cuts. This isn’t a negotiation. There are no terms I’ll accept. There is nothing you can do. This is torture, Sannie. You are going to sit there and watch every second of it. No begging will make it stop. Because thanks to you, I had to sit and watch man after man suffer at your hands. At the captain’s hands. Your hands doing what the captain asked. People who were my crewmates. The moment they faltered – even breathed the wrong way around the captain – who was it who was tasked to exact punishment after punishment?”

Silence greets her. The knife digs into your skin.

“Who was it who killed each and every single one of them, Sannie?”

A small cry of pain leaves you, growing louder and louder as your attacker pushes harder.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

The knife leaves your body, only to return seconds later with another shallow slice over your collarbone.

“Me! It was me!” San yells, voice breaking as he says the words.

“There we go. It was you. It was always you. But the one who had to haul away the bodies was me. I had to haul away the bodies of my comrades who did nothing wrong. Funny how they always called me the Taskmaster and yet you were the sadistic torturer. How fucking ironic, right? Well, now you get to taste it.”

Another shallow cut burning like fire across your skin.

“You get to know what that feels like and how badly it hurts,” Cara continues, admiring the work on your skin with a thin-lipped smile. “You get to watch it happen, Sannie, and not be able to do anything about it. Just like I did. And once she’s dead – once the sweet little Ghost is dead – you will get to haul her body off and live with the pain of reality. You get to turn her body into the military while I collect the prize money. Do you think that’s fair, Sannie?”

“N-No, fuc–fuck no! It’s not!” San refuses in a heartbeat. Cara reels on him, fists balling up at her sides

“Of fucking course it isn’t! Because it wasn’t fair when you did it to me. Why should it be fair to you?” Cara shifts and faces you once more. You take the opportunity to spat on her feet, making certain to hit her shoes when she steps closer to you. The action doesn’t please the woman in the slightest; she snatches her knife back from the man at your side. You merely taunt her by baring your neck to her, a flat expression and confidence in your eyes. No words tumble from your lips.

It isn’t a knife that hits you next. Rather, it is the back of Cara’s hand that smacks against your cut cheek with enough force to cause the chair to wobble under you.

“You are nothing but a cocky little shit who has no place in the universe,” she sneers.

“I learned that a long time ago, you bitch,” you hiss back. “You aren’t sharing any big news.”

As you speak the words, something clatters and a loud thud resounds from above you. Everyone halts and glances up at the ceiling. Cara and her men all look concerned beyond belief, but you can’t help but to laugh at their expressions. Frankly, you imagine that Hongjoong has finally caught up to you, although he’s quite a bit delayed at this rate.

“Out!” Cara orders, pointing towards the doors of the building with her knife. “All of you, get out there! Scope out the surroundings and figure out what the fuck is going on out there! Take care of it quickly, and if need be, leave no survivors. I don’t want to be fucking interrupted.”

All the men surrounding you and San file out of the building at her command, no hesitation in their steps. Their departure doesn’t provide any relief for the worry and anxiety bubbling in your gut. Cara wraps around the side of your chair then brings up a tall boot. She kicks you in the ribs, causing you to topple over and hit the floor in a similar position to San. Her hands grip the back of the chair. She drags you across the cold, dirty floor with little effort. She only stops when you’re about two feet from where San is positioned. As much as he tries to move, he can’t pull himself forward at all, leaving him stuck where he is while Cara puts you right where she wants you.

You feel utterly helpless. Unable to move and fight back, you can’t even find the heart to rile her up with your words. She places you directly across from San so that he can clearly see everything she does, then kneels down by your side to look over at the man. San doesn’t look back at her though; his eyes are on you and you alone, and you take it as an opportunity to mouth a few words to him through the panic.

It’s going to be okay.

You don’t know if it’s the truth, you don’t know how this will end, you know nothing at all except for the panic running through you. You can settle for the small white lie, however, only because it reassures you a little bit to mouth the words to San. He doesn’t respond and instead glances away to look up at Cara again as she walks around your form, but not before swallowing roughly. It’s enough acknowledgment for you to know that he saw what you said.

Cara swings the point of her boot into San’s gut. He groans from the contact, trying to curl into himself but he can’t thanks to the damn ropes around him. Her foot swings into his stomach again. All you can see is the way San’s chest heaves as he attempts to recover from the attacks.

“My men should’ve put you through more hell before bringing you here.” Cara releases a deep heave of breath then returns to your fallen body, toying with the knife as she smiles down at you. “Where to begin with this pretty little bird? Now that we’re all alone, we can have so much fun.” San’s eyes narrow on her, the emotion in them more nervous than angry or murderous now.

The knife breaks through your thigh. It cuts the fabric apart like it’s paper, as well as the skin underneath. She maintains the shallow pinpricks rather than deep cuts, and you suppose you ought to be grateful for that, but you know you won’t be grateful if she continues to do it. A hiss passes through your lips, and you look away from San so that he doesn’t have to see the pained expression on your face. Cara despises that movement though. She bends down to grip your chin.

“Fucking look at him or it’s his leg getting cut next,” she spits, stray saliva hitting your cheek. You let your cheek fall to the floor so that you can look at San again, too afraid that she will hurt San worse than you if you don’t listen.

“S-Stop,” San exhales, tone shaky and desperate even with one word. He continues with a bit of difficulty, licking the edges of his lips before talking again. “Yo-You don’t have to do this. We can – we can come to an agreement. Work something out, I know we can do something that wi–”

The knife slices through your leg again with harder force. You bite down hard on your lip to muffle the scream that nearly spills out.

“Please! P-Please, Cara, please, I–”

“There is nothing to discuss. I have made my decision and this is it.”

San squirms and tries to move across the floor again.

“You can torture me. Pl-Please. You can torture me as much as you want if you just let her go.”

“Are you fucking deaf, Sannie?” Cara laughs, the sound a disbelieving one. “This is your torture. I am torturing you by making you watch this. Every.” Another slice, lower than the last. “Single.” One more that intersects with the last. “Cut.” A third cut, this one vertical against your thigh. You bite down so hard on your lip that it draws blood. In that moment you dare to look over at San but regret it instantly.

His whole body trembles under the ropes, lip nearly quivering as tears spill from his eyes and fall over the bridge of his nose and to the floor.

“Please stop. J-Just stop, please – please stop this. I-I…” San trails off, unable to look up any longer. His chin falls to his chest. “I n-never did this to any of them. None of the crew. I - I didn’t want to be cruel. I just… I was only following orders, that’s all. I was only doing what I was told to do. I swear. I swear I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I really didn’t. I have nightmares about it every night, I-I never wanted to do it. You have to b-believe me.”

“You’ve lost the opportunity to explain whatever happened. What’s done is done. There is no apologizing or backtracking. There is no forgiveness. Don’t you understand that, Sannie?” Cara jams the knife into your thigh all of the sudden, ignoring her previous pattern of shallow cuts and burying a good quarter of the blade into your leg.

“O-Oh god,” you choke out, a large wave of nausea sweeping over you as you see the knife go into your leg.

“Y/N! Y/N, look at me. Please just look at me,” San pleads, and you pull yourself up to look him in the eye. The nausea is making you a bit dizzy, and San’s face swirls into three different ones until the wave passes over you. “It’s gonna be okay, Y/N. I promise. It’s okay. We’re gonna be okay.”

Cara huffs upon hearing San’s words. She jerks the knife and yanks it out of your leg harshly, leaving you to scream against your shoulder. The pain burns and throbs, coursing through your whole system until you can feel sweat beading on your brow.

“St-Stop! Cara, Cara, please!” San pleads again as you cry out. The Berserker doesn’t listen to a word he’s saying, the desperate pleas fall on deaf ears, and she leans over San.

“You’re having too much fun with this, Sannie. Too vocal. I should fix that.” Cara huffs a laugh, glancing over the knife before deciding to plunge it into San’s side. The knife buries all the way to the hilt in the patch up flesh just above his right hip. If you thought your screams of pain were bad, San’s is beyond comprehension. The sound of his screaming triggers something in you, flips a switch, and you lose the last bits of control you had over your emotions.

You don’t think twice before letting your abilities slip through, and you tug at the ropes behind your back while Cara is still bent over San. The effort of trying to use them causes your head to spin even more, but you muster up enough energy to push one wrist through the ropes. That’s all you need too, because you use that free hand to pull the other loose then tear at the ropes around your ankles. Cara is still preoccupied with San but she will notice your movements at any second.

Your heart pounds against the cage of your chest as you rush to pull yourself loose. Cara slowly pulls the blade out of San’s stomach, a sickening squelch resounding as blood pours forth, and she starts to stand up straight again. You twist the leftover rope around the palms of your hands and pounce on Cara’s back as best you can. You misjudge how much pain your leg is in though, and the searing fire that blossoms across your leg causes your jump to miss slightly. You don’t manage to get the rope over her head, so you settle for tossing it around her body and tangling her in the mess. It gives you just enough time to drag yourself over to San’s body, sliding behind him and pulling at the ropes around him.

San writhes in pain, unable to help you get the ropes off of his body, and Cara is nearly unraveled herself from your makeshift trap. Just as you tug his ankles free, Cara comes down on the two of you. She swings the knife down at San rather than at you. You don’t think, operating on instinct only, and your hand flies up to stop her attack from the side.

The side of the knife hits your hand. You ignore the blossoming pain that burns your palm; instead, you grip the weapon tighter and push back against her. Cara’s eyes go wide at the action and the deadly expression across your features. She stumbles backward in attempts to get away from you, but her feet catch on one of the loose ropes and she falls back to the floor. You squeeze the handle of the knife with your other hand and walk in her direction ever so slowly. The slow movements startle her further, causing the Berserker to scramble back as you draw closer.

“What the fuck are you?” She snarls. Your lips quirk upwards at her words. Your left foot drags along the ground as you pull yourself towards her. There is only adrenaline running through your veins, the pain is almost nonexistent, but you know that won’t last for long so you move as quickly as you can.

“I’m merely a ghost,” you huff out. “Here one minute and gone the next. Which is what is going to happen to you soon enough.”

You back her into a corner, her back hits a wall, and she has nowhere to go. You lunge forward and drive the knife she used on you and San into her shin. A cry of pain falls from her lips. The sound spurs you on, causing you to tilt your head to the side in question.

“What? Is this not a fun game for you? You were enjoying it so much not too long ago. Do you not enjoy it not?” You taunt as you twist the blade in her.

“Y-You’re a fucking – fucking psychopath.”

The smile returns to your lips. You pull the knife out of her leg with haste then move forward so that you can squat down in front of her.

“I’ve heard that before too,” you mutter as you twirl the knife in your grasp. The smile coating your lips dissipates. “But only by the people who deserve their fates.”

You cease your toying with the weapon and lift it high above your head, ready to send it cascading down into Cara’s chest. Just as your arm starts to come down, someone catches you by the wrist. You jerk to look over your shoulder. It’s San who stands behind you. San who has caught your hand with one of his own covered in blood. His other hand lingers over the wound in his side that is still bleeding quite profusely. There is a stagger to his breaths, chest shaky as he inhales and exhales, and a hunch to his back that shows how hard it is to hold himself up. Again, the sight of him in that state flips a switch in you.

It’s like someone has yanked a dark veil away from your eyes. Reality seeps back in and fills the cracks in your mind. In that moment, San is all you see and all you know. You drop the knife with a small gasp, unsure of what just came over you and caused you to lose control in such a way.

“D-Don’t kill he-her,” San says, lowering your arm to his side.

“Wh–”

You don’t need to finish the question because San releases you and stoops to pick up the knife you just dropped. He grips it tight, bloodied fingers sliding over the hilt without purchase.

“Turn around.”

“I-I… wh-why?” You stammer. Your feet carry you backward though, even though you mind questions it. Cara makes her presence known again and releases a weak laugh. She doesn’t move from her spot on the floor though, eyes tracking San with such scrutiny that you would crumble under that gaze.

“I should’ve known this would be my fate,” she murmurs. Her chin lifts a little. “Don’t be a coward when you do it, Sannie. If you’re going to kill me, then you should at least do it right and give me a proper sendoff.”

“Y/N, turn around.”

“I-I don’t need to though.”

San reels on you with sudden strength to his movements. You flinch at the sight of the emotion in his eyes and the quiver of his lower lip. You know it’s not from the exhaustion of the wound. That much is easy to see. He doesn’t want you to see him do it. After what Cara revealed and the shame that burned San’s words, you understand why. So, you respect his wishes, nod a few times, and pull back to turn around and face the opposite wall.

A few seconds of terse silence pass. You don’t even dare to breathe, just focusing on the adrenaline that is seeping out of your body and leaving pain in its wake. Then – a small gasp, a quick inhalation of air, and… nothing.

You don’t turn around yet though. Something about the air feels odd and sacred, and if you turn around now, you would be disturbing that peace.

“May your journey to the next life treat you well, Taskmaster of The Eurydice,” San says in a quiet tone, only audible because of the silence in the building. A breath of hesitation then – “And may you rot in hell for all you’ve done.”

The words are spoken with a finality, like the ending line of a chapter in a book. San immediately begins to shuffle around. It leaves you to wonder what the hell he’s doing behind you, and as much as you want to turn around, you want to wait until he tells you it’s okay to do so. After a few minutes, San approaches you at last. He taps your arm, fingers brushing your elbow, and you twist to look at his face.

“It’s over…” He remains hunched from his wound and keeps a hand over it in efforts to halt the blood flow. You reach down to touch the hand there, but San pulls away from you in an instant. “Don’t. I-I – I don’t want you to touch me. Now that… now that you know what I did. Who I was. What kind of person I used to be. W-Who my captain made me to be. The th-things he made me do. I – the extent of my captain’s hold on me and how damn easy it was for me to do those horrible things. I don’t want you… I don’t want to taint you with that.”

“San…”

“I remember every single damn face from that crew,” he continues as though you didn’t speak at all. “I remember them all. I know them by heart. The ones I tortured and killed merely because my captain didn’t like the way something was done. The pure hatred I operated with: the reasoning that since they were awful and abused me, then it was okay to hurt them. I remember their faces. Their names. What they begged for in their last moments. Mercy… it was always mercy. I-I can’t get away from it no matter how hard I try. It’s in my dreams every fucking night.”

San stops to look back to where Cara’s body is. His jaw stutters as he look over there. Then he sinks to his knees and a pained sob tears through his chest. You slide down to join him, trying to ignore the sharp pain in your leg as you move and just focus on San and San alone. Despite his insistence that you don’t touch him, you reach out and place a bloodied hand over his thigh. He doesn’t stop you.

“It didn’t help,” he whispers, eyes stuck the hand that isn’t pressed to his stab wound. He flexes his fingers and curls them into a fist. “It was supposed to help but it didn’t. I-I… it didn’t do anything. Why does it hurt so fucking much? I-I should’ve – I’m the one who should’ve–”

You refuse to let him finish that sentence, a surge of panic rushing through your body as you hear the implications in his words. Your hand darts up to grip his shoulder tight.

“It gets worse before it gets better,” you respond. If it’s supposed to be encouraging, you think you’ve failed in every way because how the hell is that reassuring in the slightest. San apparently feels the same way because a scream rips through his lips, startling you with the volume and suddenness of the sound.

“I don’t want it to get better! I want it gone!”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur as you pull his body against yours. “I’m so sorry, San. I-I wish I knew. I wish I knew how to help but I don’t and I’m sorry for that.” Your left hand maintains its position on your thigh, squeezing tight around the injury there. You pull back a little to motion down at San’s wound. “I need to take care of that, San. I need to put pressure on it to keep it from bleeding out more. You – you don’t have the strength to maintain it, okay? Just let me, okay? Let me take care of it.”

San doesn’t seem to hear you, however, and even as you try to look him in the eye, his gaze is unfocused.

“You did well, Y/N,” he says. The words cause a spike of panic. “Remember that.”

It sounds too much like he’s saying goodbye. You can’t stand it, you can’t breathe, you can’t function. Everything bleeds into one blinding shade of white. You press San again.

“Let me take care of your wound, San. Please?”

His response is nothing again, and his body goes limp against yours. You can’t stop the strangled sob that leaves your lips. Your hands tremble as you lower San to the ground, placing him flat against it. You grab for his wrist and neck in a desperate attempt to find a pulse. Another sob leaves you as you find it, a rapid pace that is anything but normal. His skin is clammy and cold to the touch. You don’t know much about medicine or anything in that area, but they did teach you how to recognize the symptoms of shock during your military training. San has to be going into shock, but you have no clue how to stop it and halt the process.

Your head swims, spots filling the edge of your vision as you rush to get to the other side of San’s body where his wound resides. You can’t put proper pressure on both your leg and San’s wound; it’s either one or the other, and with a small cry of pain you choose to press against San’s abdomen instead of your thigh. There’s no telling how long you can hold this position, or how long it is until you pass out yourself, but your sheer willpower is the only thing keeping you going right now.

Noise resounds from outside the building. You pad around for your gun only to realize that you don’t have it. An exhausted sigh falls from your lips.

Is this really how I’m going to go out? A failure even on the brink of death?

Bright sunlight suddenly enters the warehouse, and you lift a hand from San’s stomach to block your eyes from the brightness. Three shadowy figures walk inside with arms out, no doubt holding guns. You swallow the lump in your throat – or at least try to – and prepare yourself for the worst.

“H-Holy fuck.”

The words don’t come from you or San, but the voice is familiar. It almost sounds like Seonghwa, and your assumptions are confirmed when the figure on the left rushes forward and comes into view. It is in fact Seonghwa, and you nearly cry from relief as he comes to kneel beside you. Hongjoong comes into view as well, but he moves straight past you to get to San. Seonghwa reaches out to you, holstering his gun, and pulls himself a bit closer to you. You make an attempt to speak but your jaw just stutters and nothing comes out. All you can do is stare at Seonghwa dumbly with your jaw hanging wide open.

“Shh, shh,” Seonghwa shushes as you make a strangled noise. “You did a good job, Y/N. You did well.”

You shake your head, the movements frantic and without cease until Seonghwa presses a hand against the wound on your thigh. He looks you dead in the eye.

“You did well, Y/N. You did what was asked of you and more.”

You can’t muster up the energy to respond with words so you just nod. Glancing past his shoulder, you catch sight of the third figure coming into view. It’s Mingi but he lingers several feet away without coming closer or saying anything. Hongjoong remains bent over San, his hands moving frantically over his bloodied wound.

“M–Mingi, come closer. I need your help.” The stutter in his tone doesn’t escape anyone’s notice. If you had more energy, you might care to think about it more, but as it is, you can’t tear your mind away from San’s state and your exhaustion.

You try to pull yourself up, but Seonghwa keeps you to the ground with the hand on your thigh.

“I’ll follow with Y/N. Just take care of San right now.”

Hongjoong nods as Mingi comes forward.

“We’ll get San to a clinic as fast as possible. You know the one.”

“San is a fighter. He’ll be okay,” Seonghwa reassures. Hongjoong musters up a grin but it holds little emotion in it.

“I know that, Lieutenant.” Mingi reaches Hongjoong’s side, towering over the captain as he stands next to him, then he moves to pick San up. There is a sense of defeat that fills your body as you watch the tall Berserker lifts San’s all too limp body with ease. The lingering pain of knowing that you could do nothing but watch as Cara hurt him, nothing as she attacked you, and even afterward you could do nothing but apologize for not knowing what to do. It leaves the bitter taste of failure in your mouth. You watch Mingi situate San in his arms, pressing a large hand over the wound that still pours blood, and Hongjoong leads them out of the warehouse. Seonghwa follows their movements with his eyes, only pulling back to look at you once they’re completely out of sight.

“When d-did you get he-here?” Your words slur together a little bit, and Seongwha cracks a small smile.

“Don’t exert yourself any more than you already have, okay?” He shifts you, and you let him lay you down on your back only for him to scoop you up with little effort. The arm under your knees slides up so he can press his palm over your wound. “Mingi and I arrived not too long ago. Hongjoong called us up to a rooftop. He said that both you and San disappeared around the same time. He didn’t see or hear it happen, but he assumed you’d been caught. Suppose he figured correctly.” Seonghwa grunts as he gets to his feet, hoisting you further up against him. He doesn’t move at the same breakneck pace that Hongjoong and Mingi had on their way out of the warehouse. “There’s a clinic that should be able to help you both relatively quickly. It’s not too far away if you can just hold out a little while longer.”

“I-I’m not sure…” You murmur as you bring an arm up around Seonghwa’s back. “I have a knack for getting hurt and passing out, I think.”

“I already don’t you to shush, did I not? Don’t try talking or you’ll make it worse.” Seonghwa glances over your face. “You get hurt because you’re reckless. You just the gun too quickly, lack patience, think with your heart and not your head. You pass out because you didn’t take the time to regain your strength after your arm was shot and you had the surgery. Your body can’t keep up the way it used to because of that.”

You want to retort but can’t find the energy to so you just grumble and roll your eyes instead. Seonghwa continues to speak but this time he returns to answering your first question.

“We dispatched of a group on top of the roof. One started falling so Mingi tried to grab him, but it caused a bunch of noise. More came out to see what was going on. It took us a while to finish them all off.” Seonghwa’s expression shifts, lips turning into a frown. “We could hear you… in the warehouse. Both you and San screaming.” His hold on you tightens a bit before he continues with more hesitance. “When it went quiet, I thought that meant th–”

“San is alive,” you interrupt, a desperate attempt to keep him from finishing that train of thought. “Don’t worry.”

Seonghwa bites his lower lip as he looks down at you, voice quiet when he decides to speak again.

“I was worried about you too.”

You opt not to respond. Even if you knew what to say, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

“Will you be okay if I run?” Seonghwa asks, hastening his pace a little before you answer.

“Y-Yea, go for it.”

Seonghwa breaks into a sprint as you give him permission. Despite his haste, it still isn’t quick enough to catch up to Hongjoong and Mingi, and you don’t even see their forms ahead of you in the streets. They must be moving much faster than Seonghwa to be that far ahead already. Given San’s state though, you don’t blame them.

San is all you can think about yourself. While there is the panic and worry over whether he’s okay and alive, there is more to it than that as well. You really know nothing about medical things; you can tell when a wound looks bad and that’s about the extent of your knowledge. You know two things about San’s wound: the knife went to the hilt in him, and there was an ungodly amount of blood. Cara didn’t just cut him up a little like she did with you. She went in full force with the intent to kill, and you’re worried that she may get what she wants postmortem.

You wish you had the energy to huff out a laugh, but you can barely manage to keep your head up at this point. You can never catch a break; there’s always something that you have to worry about. Always running, fleeing, fighting – you can’t even stop to breathe for two seconds before something else is happening. Part of you wonders how long it’s going to last, how long you have to keep running for. You could just go back home and live out the rest of your days there in the hopes that no one will find you, but there are too many memories tied to that place. Yet you want to rest. You’re so fucking tired of all this, and you just want to try having a calm life for once. You need to rest.

Seonghwa pulls you out of your thoughts by releasing a huff of air. You glance around as the regular hustle and bustle of the streets hits your ears. It’s a vaguely familiar sight, just enough for you to know that you’re back in the area you started in. Seonghwa slows his pace some and peels off to a side alleyway rather than pushing through the crowds. He wraps around the buildings with steady steps until you reach an unmarked door with a hanging sign above it. He doesn’t give you the chance to read the words on the sign, pushing into the building with his back.

An old man is the first to greet you, seated behind a rickety wooden desk with his chin to his chest. He glances up when you come in though.

“The primary doctor is busy with a patient who was just brought in,” he says when Seonghwa approaches the desk. “Our secondary doctor is treating someone with an illness right now, but you can wait around five minutes for her to be free.”

“Okay, thank you.” Seonghwa nods a few times then pulls back to carry you to a row of chairs on the opposite wall. He sets you down and eases you onto one of the chairs, hands cradling your elbows as you move. Rather than going to sit beside you though, he kneels in front of you and examines your thigh. He peels back the cut up fabric, soaked with crimson blood, and exposes your wounds to the air. The blood has stopped oozing so profusely, beginning to clot a little. You can barely see past the mess of crimson, but there are a total of five cuts on your leg. Seonghwa glances up, eyes landing on the cuts along your collarbone as well. He thumbs over the skin with a gentle touch and makes sure not to irritate them further. Then his eyes go to your cheek where the first cut is. His expression is unreadable as he pulls himself up and sits down beside you.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, barely managing to smile. Seonghwa laughs a little, and the corners of his lips curl upwards.

“Oh, nothing much. Just thinking about the weather, of course.”

Your smile stretches a bit more at his joking comment.

“San is going to be okay, Y/N.”

“Y-Yea…” Your voice doesn’t sound confident though, and you don’t know if it’s because of how exhausted and drained you are or if it’s because of something else. Seonghwa doesn’t press you any further than that; your lack of engagement must be enough to deter him from talking more. He just places a hand on your right thigh and lets it rest against the bloodied fabric. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, eyes looking anywhere except at each other. You still can’t wrap your mind fully around reality. Everything that just happened just seems so unreal that you don’t want it to be real. The blood on your hands doesn’t go away, however, and neither does the dull ache in your chest.

A curtain to the right shifts all of a sudden, and Hongjoong and Mingi step out from behind it. Seonghwa’s hand on your thigh squeezes a little tighter as he looks over his captain’s dismal expression. Hongjoong ignores him, however, and comes to step in front of you. You brace yourself for the worst, gnawing on the inside of your lip while staring up at him in anticipation.

“You were reckless, careless, arrogant, foolish, and idiotic, among other things like disobedient, stupid, and childish.”

All you can do is nod in confirmation. He isn’t wrong in the slightest, neither was Seonghwa earlier when he called you out for similar things. Hongjoong sticks a hand out in front of you, exposing his forearm and palm to the ceiling. You don’t know what he’s expecting or what to do for many seconds. You blink between his arm and his face without speaking until a sigh falls from his lips.

“Just take it before I change my damn mind,” he grumbles. Realization dawns on you, and you reach out to clasp your bloody fingers around his forearm. He pulls you to your feet with that same grip. Your eyes meet. “Thank you for protecting and saving San, and for doing what I couldn’t do.”

You open your mouth to respond, but words don’t come out. Nor do you have the chance to come up with any sort of reply because a woman peeks out from behind another current beside the one Hongjoong and Mingi walked out of.

“I’m ready for the next patient!”

Seonghwa stands up with you, and you take that as your invitation to go over to the woman. His hand finds your lower back, ready to lift you into his arms again.

“I can walk fine on my own,” you mutter. Part of you doesn’t want to seem weak in front of Hongjoong now, especially since he just told you he somewhat respects you for what you did for San. Seonghwa isn’t affected by your comment though; he just laughs and lifts you regardless.

“You aren’t doing yourself any favors with that ego,” he says once you’re out of Hongjoong’s earshot. You press your lips into a frown but don’t say anything. Seonghwa takes you back to the doctor’s room. She motions towards a chair in the center of the room, and Seonghwa sets you down in it for her. You expect him to head out immediately and return to Hongjoong’s side, but instead, he lingers beside the chair, placing a hand on the back of it near your shoulder.

“Oh wow, quite a few cuts.” The doctor hums to herself and moves closer to you. She checks your cheek first then moves down to your collarbone. “These aren’t deep, but they’ll need just a little cleaning and dressing. Put some patches over them to keep them covered for the time being, but they should heal easy. Awkward places for certain, but easy to fix.”

She pulls back and moves for a counter, snagging a bottle of clear liquid and some white patches. You know it’s alcohol the second she uncorks the bottle and the scent hits you, but the sting of it against your skin draws a hiss from your lips. She continues to clean the cuts, then pulls out a roll of tape to dress the cuts further. Seonghwa’s hand slips down to your shoulder, squeezing it tight when you release another hiss of pain.

The doctor dips down to your thigh after securing the last gauze patch to your cheek. She peels back the cut fabric like Seonghwa did earlier, then another hum passes through her lips.

“I can’t really access the cuts too well with your pants on. Do you happen do have a spare set of pants around?” She asks the question with a smile playing at her lips, no doubt realizing the ridiculousness of it.

“N-No,” you answer with a similar smile of your own.

“We can get some,” Seonghwa interjects, pulling his hand back from your shoulder. “I mean, we were going to regardless because hers are a mess, but I can go now to get them. I’ll just estimate your size, if that’s okay.”

“Perfect, that would be great! I’m going to need a bit of help pulling these off first before you go, if you’d please–”

“I’m sure we can handle it,” you interrupt, smile growing shaky at the thought. Seonghwa nods in agreement immediately.

“I’ll be back shortly then.” He moves back to the curtain and disappears behind it, leaving you with the doctor.

“Let’s get you up first,” she says as she grabs hold of your elbows and pulls you to your feet. “Oh, your hand is cut too! I didn’t even notice it with all the blood. Here, let’s get you over to the sink and wash that off first.” She guides you over to the counter she was working at earlier, running hot water over your hands. You know that not all of it is your blood, that San’s blood is on your hands as well, and that not all of it is front the thin slice over your palm. The doctor pulls your hand out from under the water and towels it dry. You just watch her movements with little interest, squeezing your fingers around the white gauze she wraps around your palm. Once she pulls back, she motions down at your pants.

It’s difficult to do on your own, a painful process that has you ready to fall over by the end of it, but you manage to tug the pants off and expose the cuts along your thigh completely. You don’t wait for her to tell you to sit back down either and just do it on your own. The cuts look far worse than they did when you had your pants on, one much deeper than the other papercut-like ones around it. When the doctor presses her alcohol-covered pad over your leg, it hurts ten times worse than it did before. You fight through the pain by biting down on the tip of your tongue. Once the blood is all wiped away, the cuts don’t look nearly as bad as before, except for the one deeper one.

“A few minor cuts and one deeper one. You won’t need stitches or anything like that, but I will go ahead and do a skin adhesive liquid stitch just to be safe on that deeper cut. Then I’ll wrap you up in some gauze and put a little medicine there to fend off infection. Surgical tape after to secure it in place, okay?”

“Sounds good,” you murmur as she begins to collect the supplies.

“Keep it clean and treat it often if you can! That’s the key to recovery.”

You watch her work with disinterested eyes. At this point, it doesn’t hurt much after that alcohol horror. The exhaustion is catching up to you with haste, and you mostly feel numb all over at this point. Everything is catching up on you actually, and you really want to find any bed available and sleep for days. Blinking down at your trembling fingers, you recall how you were able to use your abilities earlier but only after hearing San scream. You weren’t able to use them with Cara yesterday though when you were fighting for your own damn life, and you can’t reconcile why that’s the case. The only thing you are certain of is the fact that most of your exhaustion is stemming from the use of your powers because that’s always the thing that takes the most energy out of you.

The doctor before you seals the deep cut with the liquid stitches she spoke about then wraps up your thigh with more white gauze and secures it with several strips of surgical tape.

“As good as new, huh?” She jokes as she smiles up at you. You crack a smile yourself and nod in agreement. Seonghwa comes in just as she’s finishing up with the taping, a new pair of pants in hand. When the doctor leans away, you stand up to take them from him, and he meets you halfway.

“Thank you,” you mumble, not meeting his eyes as you take the clothes from him.

You’re determined to at least clothe yourself without help, but that proves to be too much for you as well and you stumble when you try to pull the pants up. Both the doctor and Seonghwa reach out to catch you, but Seonghwa reaches you first. He grabs hold of your arm and steadies you while you continue to pull the pants on with a grumbled “I’m fine” under your breath.

“Thank you for all your help.” You turn to the doctor who just smiles in response.

“Look after those cuts! You should heal up nicely without too much scarring if you keep an eye on them.”

Seonghwa’s hand returns to your lower back, but he doesn’t move to pick you up this time. He lets you walk out of the room on your own, staying close to your side just in case you stumble again. Hongjoong and Mingi are still in the lobby when you exit, perched in the chairs that you and Seonghwa were on earlier, and both men wear deadpan expressions as you pass by them. Seonghwa doesn’t stop to talk to Hongjoong; instead, he guides you out of the clinic and back into the streets of the city. You don’t question it, and there’s no need to because Seonghwa turns to explain it to you after the door snaps shut behind you.

“We’ll stay in the hotel for another night per Hongjoong’s orders. Just the two of us this time though. Hongjoong and Mingi will wait in the clinic for news on San.” Your expression must crumble because Seonghwa pats your back with the hand there. “I know you want to wait with them but you need rest. I want to wait too but taking care of you is my priority right now, whether you like it or not. You went through hell, Y/N.”

“Okay…” You mumbles, eyes darting away from Seonghwa’s concerned ones.

“He’ll be okay. I promise you that. San is a fighter, and he won’t let anything keep him down. Especially not something like this.” You can only nod in agreement with Seonghwa’s words without knowing for certain whether they’re true or not. Perhaps it’s a desperate need for some sense of comfort, but as Seonghwa guides you back to the hotel, you grab for his hand, awkwardly brushing over his thigh before his hand slips from your back to envelop yours with warmth. He threads his fingers through yours and squeezes tightly without stopping to ask why. The reason is clear enough.

His hand remains in yours all the way to the hotel, only pulling back to open the door for you to step through. Similar to the first time you were in here, you linger near the door as Seonghwa approaches the counter and talks with the man behind it. Your throat feels tight. Seonghwa is right in saying that you need the rest but so much worry nags at your gut that you don’t know if you’ll be able to get any whatsoever. Your thoughts are just full of San. San, San, San.

Seonghwa returns to your side, silently taking your hand in his again and pulling you towards the stairs. It’s that nagging sensation of failure and incapability that overwhelms you as he helps you climb the stairs. If you had done things right, San wouldn’t have gotten hurt. He wouldn’t have gotten caught. You wouldn’t have gotten caught either. You would’ve gotten to San before they did and talked him out of it. Kept him from doing something he would regret. Even with your warning, he still carried through with it, but you could have prevented it. You should have. Should have done better and worked harder to prevent it from happening.

You don’t feel the tears hit your cheeks. It’s Seonghwa who notices them first as you reach the top of the stairs, his hands flying up to cup your cheeks and brush the crystalline drops away with his thumbs. Still, he doesn’t speak, but that silence offers no reassurance in the slightest. He pulls you through the door of the first room on the left – the same one you stayed in the night before with San – and that makes it even harder to go inside. Your expression remains flat and blank as you cry, no sobs fall from your lips, it’s only the tears that fall against your will. Seonghwa continues to brush them away without complaint and he moves you to sit on the edge of the bed while he squats in front of you, hands never leaving your face. He’s speaking to you, offering reassurance and comfort, but every word goes in one ear and out the other. All you can think about it what San said to you right before passing out on top of you.

“You did well, Y/N. Remember that.”

Those words ring in your ears. The person you’ve been trying to save, the one who took the fall for you, the person this has all been for – the fighting, the running, the killing, the damn papers – he said the exact same thing before walking to his death before the King of Eros.

✧✧✧ a/n: jfc cal 10.7k?!??! i know i know i pulled a fast one on you guys and hit the pedal so hard we’re gassing it okay?! also this chapter is a bit intense for sure and full of stuff and information and hints and easter eggs and all that but omg i hope you guys like it, i think it’s been the one i enjoyed writing the most so far mostly because i am sO excited to write the next part after this that im losing my mind skldfjlkdsfj anyway let me know what you think and all those juicy theories !!!

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @2504-life @lil7bluedragon @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis @anothershorthuman @xxbluestrifexx @yayhei @haotheheckk @noonawriter

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 4 years

Text

Yunho “Boyfriend Headcanons”

// Hongjoong version // Seonghwa version // Yunho version // Yeosang version // San version // Mingi version // Wooyoung version // Jongho version //

- Excuse me while i go off here

- I love him so much

- He’s my bias so I apologize if I go overboard

- Yunho is just so bubbly it’s fantastic

- He’s so funny and positive and that’s why I like him

- As far as a first date goes

- Something energetic for sure

- something just very fun that allows you both to talk and get to know eachother

- something with little pressure

- because Yunho can get shy and if he’s nervous he’s a mess

- a cute mess but a mess none the less

- so maybe grabbing some coffee/hot chocolate/tea to go

- going to a park and walking around and talking

- His ears would be bright red the whole time

- it’s his tell

- but it’s really cute

- especially when you notice and comment on it because it’s cute

- *cue the ears getting redder *

- Definitely taking a stop at the playground and having him push you on the swings

- going down the slide together

- being literal 5 year olds but that’s okay because cute

- Might kiss you on the swing

- only if he feels it’s right and you’re down though

- Will walk you home or to your bus or car afterwards

- instantly text you after having been on your date

- very sweet and tells you how much fun he had

- kind of crashes at the dorm in his bed and does a little excited wiggle

- definitely tells the members all about it

- Yunho gets so excited about the smallest things

- that kind of makes you get excited about small things too

- it’s just very hard to be unhappy while Yunho is happy

- he’s very good at cheering you up

- and problem solving

- very much the type to hold you close and comfort you

- his hands rubbing over your back and through your hair

- after your done getting it all out

- he’s down to help solve your problems

- When Yunho’s upset

- it’s easy to tell

- his ears are red and he’s not smiling

- Yunho doesn’t try to hide it either

- he vents and wants you to hold him and help him

- his pout is the cutest though as he rants

- just help him

- let the golden retriever wag his tail again

- It’s just always very hard to see a positive person very down

- Arguments with Yunho are... odd?

- If any of you guys have seen ‘How I met your mother’

- I imagine the arguments being like Marshall and Lily’s arguments

- Being angry and snippy with eachother

- but also just needing a break from the argument and putting it on pause sometimes

- just because you need eachother’s comfort

-If he does something wrong

- he apologizes in weird ways but ways that make sense to you both

- like with inside jokes and small gestures he know you love

- Cuddling with Yunho is great

- Like I can’t describe it any other way

- Your head tucked under his chin and his arms locked around you

- legs tangled

- You sleep like this too

- Also morning Yunho?

- The cutest

- His little puffy cheeks and tired expression are precious

- Yunho loves Harry Potter

- so if you get sorted into a different house than him

- I’m sorry

- it’s over

- jk but he will constantly remind you when you watch the movies

- You guys watch the movies maybe once a month

- Also he wants to read them but doesn’t really like reading

- so before bed sometimes you read the books to him

- One chapter a night and slowly but surely you’ll make it through the series

- He loves it and just stares at you lovingly while you read

- extra points if you try and make voice for the characters

- it just makes reading more tolerable for him

- Definitely loves teaching you dances too

- he hopes one day to choreograph a duet for the two of you

- not to perform necessarily but just for you two

- You don’t even need to be able to dance

- he’ll teach you

- Mingi will help too

- it’s a lot of fun with those 2 together and dancing

- Yunho just loves your support at practice too

- Watching you watch him dance

- it feeds his ego a little and it’s really cute

- You love it when Yunho is confident

- You love watching him on stage

- When the whole group is doing their more serious concepts

- it’s just so fantastic to see his bright smile anyways because he can’t help it

- Always tell him when your proud of him

- Believe me his smile is worth it

- He does the same for you too

- You could have done the simplest task

- Yunho will still tell you he’s proud of you

- It’s important to him too

- Definitely loves playing video games with you

- The members always talk about how Yunho never gets a game without thinking of the members because he wants to be able to play together

- So group game nights with you are also very important to him

- Being cheesy infront of everyone on these nights also happen

- sitting in Yunho’s lap or between his legs

- You tend to ask him to sing for you a lot

- because his voice is so soft and lovely

- I have this image in my head

- of you both laying down in bed on your sides

- looking at eachother

- him holding your hand and rubbing circles with his thumb

- all while he’s singing to you softly

- just absolutely precious

- Going to the convenience store late at night happens alot too

- grabbing your favorite ice cream and then going to a near by playground to eat it and mess around on the swings

- on your own you wouldn’t feel safe doing that

- but with Yunho

- nothing really seems scary

- he’s protective

- not in an overbaring way whatsoever

- But if you need his help

- or someone is bothering you

- he will fight if it comes down to it

- he protects his own

- he does it for you, his family and Ateez (his other family)

- Yunho loves seeing you hang out with his little brother too

- when you visit his parents house

- play video games with his little brother

- Gunho probably thinks you’re the coolest which makes Yunho really happy

- he loves seeing the people around him get along

- he’s not really jealous at all

- I can’t imagine Yunho getting jealous

- He puts a lot of trust into your relationship

- so he doesn’t feel the need to get jealous

- even if you give someone attention

- he knows it’s probably not the way his mind is trying to make him think it is

- thinks about things before acting on it

- Okay kids look away the adults are speaking

- okay

- soft dom all the way

- no denying it at all

- has a really hard time being a hard dom

-it just makes him slightly uncomfortable

- so don’t make him do it

- size kink (are we surprised... the answer is NO)

- Has a thing for seeing his large cover parts of your body

- if that makes sense?

- just likes the visual of it all

- I think it also fuel that protector aspect to him as well

- he likes to think of himself as your big strong protector

- doesn’t really get very rough during sex because of this

- always wants you feeling safe with him

- does absolutely love being on top and having you under him though

- Loves it when you love his hands

- guide his hands where you want them

- lacing your fingers with his

- it’s all just so stimulating to him

- Loves holding onto your ass when you have sex

- doesn’t matter if it’s big, small, round, flat etc

- he loves your butt and thighs

- Yunho also really loves it when you give him a blowjob

- Especially when he’s stressed

- God he loves it

- He can hardly hold his hips still

- He can barely keep quiet

- fingers tangled in your hair as you suck him off

- also the visual of your lips wrapped around him 10/10

- killer about praise

- compliments you all the time

- Also has a thing for fucking you while you wear his clothes

- especially big hoodies

- Also has a big thing for fingering?

- I mean have you seen his hands

- he just loves knowing that his fingers do so much to you

- very into slow passionate sex

- especially when it’s completely reliant on the pace he sets

- and the way he rolls his hips

- god okay i need to stop this before it gets too long

- Aftercare

- Looks at you with the biggest puppy eyes

- he’s filled with so much love and he can share it with you

- that’s how he looks at you not just after sex but all the time

- you just notice it more after sex

- petting your hair gently, asking if you need anything

- water?

- food?

- cuddles?

- a bath?

- he’ll do it for you all you have to do is ask

- otherwise aftercare isn’t so intense

- just a lot of soft touches and holding eachother

- maybe a chapter of harry potter read to you by him for a change

- even though he doesn’t like reading

- depending on how tired you both are though

- loves holding your face and nestling his forehead against yours

- kissing your nose and cheeks and lips repeatedly

- he’s just so sweet to you all the time

- Yunho really expects the same from you too

- You two are the sweetest couple

- the couple that’s more like best friends

- you share everything because Yunho is so giving

- You two are a couple that seems sweet together on the surface

- and is even sweeter on the inside

A/N: we been knew that I love Yunho so much prime bf material.

#ateez #ateez reaction #ateez scenario #yunho #yunho reaction #yunho scenario #yunho smut #ateez smut

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chaseatinydream · 3 years

Text

pirate king (38) || atz

It’s cold here.

The second you step into the tunnel before you, the stone wall rises behind you once more, plunging you and your captain into darkness, the only light that reaches you is at what you presume to be the end of the tunnel. It’s far dryer than you expected for the lair of a sea witch, but you’re definitely not complaining.

Hongjoong takes your hand and moves in front of you, armed with his cutlass. You think about drawing yours as well, but wielding a blade with your non-dominant hand is probably going to do more damage than any actual help, so you refrain from doing so.

Every step you take sends echoes bouncing eerily off the walls around you, so you hold on tighter to your captain’s hand and stick to his side, shying away from the walls. Hongjoong’s grip on your hand is firm and warm, pulling you with him as the two of you finally reach the end of the cave and step into the light.

To your surprise, you’re not in a cave anymore.

It’s a beach.

After joining a pirate crew, you had been on the sea for most of your time since awakening. And when you hadn’t, you had often been at docks or beaches, and yes, you would like to say you had seen many beautiful beaches in your short “life” here so far.

But this beach is like none other you’ve seen before.

Tall, jagged cliffs rise around you like fingers stretching for the grey, stormy sky above you. No water touches your skin yet, but you can taste it in the air you breathe that a torrential downpour is on the brink of falling. The white, foaming sea ploughs forward and would have crashed down upon the beach you are on if it weren’t for the rocky reef barriers breaking them apart, sea spray flying into the air.

“I hope this is symbolism for something bad coming in the near future.” You mutter grimly, but before your captain can reply, there’s someone standing before you.

You don’t know how she got here. One second she wasn’t there and one second she simply was, looking completely calm and unruffled as if she had been there the whole time and you two merely hadn’t noticed her.

You nearly leap out of your skin in fright, Hongjoong handling this surprise a lot better than you are. He pulls you behind him in one smooth motion, tip of his cutlass pointed right towards the woman.

“Who are you?”

The first thought that registers in your mind is that she’s beautiful.

No, beautiful is actually too tame of a word to describe her. When the fortune teller on Tortuga had spoken of a sea witch, you had expected for someone that looked much like her, an old hag draped in rags with occult symbols and beads, perhaps missing several teeth and smelling like she hadn’t known a bar of soap her whole life. But you’re almost guilty that you thought about her that way, because this woman is completely different from what you expected.

Her lovely, slender figure is adorned in a sheer golden dress that brushes the sand behind her and flies with the wind like a bird in the sky, woven from a material that for some reason you recognise even though you’ve never seen it before. Sea silk, you realise in shock, a textile so valuable it is actually worth more than its weight in gold.

In stark contrast to her gown, her hair is a midnight black, flowing over her shoulders in waves and plunging down her back to her waist like a inky waterfall, the strands gently brushing soft, petal lips.

Then you meet her eyes.

People say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. If that statement holds true, then the woman before you must have an eternal one, because her eyes are a bottomless blue that remind you of the deepest, most mysterious depths of the ocean. There doesn’t seem to be an end to the infinite wisdom and grace of her, and when you look at her, face to face, she merely gives you a gentle smile.

When she moves, something abruptly slams into your mind that she isn’t a statue and is, in fact, a living, breathing human being. The smile she presents you with is bright enough to turn a man blind, and you feel as if your eyes have just been blessed by the mere sight of her. She opens her mouth to speak.

“Welcome, Choi Chin Hae.”

You don’t even realise you’re gaping at her until Hongjoong lifts one hand to shut your mouth, which closes with an audible clop. He doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by her, however, his sword still focused on the woman with an unwavering hand.

“I asked, who are you?”

The woman merely shows a teasing smile and quirks a brow at him playfully, as if she’s part of a little secret that he’s not included in.

“You would battle all manner of sea storms and sirens to reach this island, yet not know what you are searching for?” She shakes her head, as if disappointed. “Even if you have your suspicions on who I am, I know full well who you are, Kim Hongjoong.”

Every word she speak reverberates with power and now that you hear her voice for the second time, it sends shivers down your spine. You don’t know how to describe it, but her voice sounds like waves sweeping against the shore in the early morning light. You can feel a powerful pulse around her, a billion times more intense than your master’s, like invisible riptides in the air around her.

Your captain’s eye narrows. “You’re the sea witch?” You can hear the confusion in his voice and the woman nods, each simple action effortlessly graceful and elegant as a dancer.

“That is what most call me, yes.” She gazes towards you with those fathomless blue eyes. “But the name my mistress bestowed upon me is Eldoris.”

Eldoris. Even her name sounds beautiful.

“Well then, Lady Eldoris,” Hongjoong’s tone is carefully polite, but his grip on the sword is still tight. “Would you mind if you answered a few of our questions?”

Eldoris’ smile widens to show pearly white teeth. “I will answer all the questions you have for me to the best of my ability.”

There’s something tugging inside you that’s warning you that everything has been too easy up till now and your captain obviously feels it too, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Instead, he merely glances at you, encouraging you to move forward and ask what you want to know.

For a moment you just stand there as the two of them look at you expectantly. Even though up till this point your mind was overflowing with questions, now that you’re face to face with the prospect of getting real answers, your mind suddenly stutters to a stop, completely blank.

So much had happened. There is so much you want to know. Where are you to begin?

“First,” You start off with the simplest question you can think of, “What do you know about me?”

The sea witch tilts her head to the side as she searches your face intently, eyes skimming your features in a way that makes you a little uneasy.

“A month ago, you awoke in a prison cell in the town of Raguza wearing the coat of a Royal Navy officer.” She begins softly, her gaze holding yours captive as she lays out your story since awakening. “You were sentenced to death by hanging, but managed to escape when there was a raid on the town by the pirate band ATEEZ. You hid on the ship when it sailed away, and from there on became part of the crew.”

You know you’re supposed to be shocked by how she knows all of this, but you’ve been through a lot, from learning about the fact you’re actually a golem to how Seonghwa’s family actually were pirates. The novelty of having near unbelievable feats being dropped on you had kind of worn off after a while.

You swallow nervously as you begin to probe a little deeper. “Then do you know about what I am?”

At this she pauses, as if thinking about how to phrase her words very carefully in a way that would be the most accurate. The wind sweeps around her, tossing her dark hair into into the air as she answers your question. “I am aware that you are considered to be, in part, a golem of clay that has only existed for a moon.”

Your breath catches in your throat. It really is as the fortune teller had told you back on Tortuga. You had made a deal with the woman before you, a sea witch, to gain this body that you have.

As if sensing the turmoil within you, Hongjoong takes your hand in his gently, squeezing tight to let you know he’s still there.

His comfort gives you the courage you need to ask the question you need answered. You take a deep breath and finally spill what you’ve been intending to ask her this whole time.

“Did you… make me?”

There’s a long silence as the sea witch stands opposite you on the beach, her eyes filled with secrets as she meets your desperate gaze. Then she nods her head very slowly, as if this time she’s trying to be deliberately vague.

“I did make your body.” Eldoris speaks softly as she looks you over with an intense gaze. A chilling shiver wraps around your throat and dances down your spine, you feel as if someone has just walked right across your grave. She’s studying you like how a potter would study her work, her eyes tracing every inch of your body.

Hongjoong’s fingers tighten around yours.

You force down the unease and meet the sea witch in the eye the best you can.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘make my body’? The fortune teller I visited told me she had never seen a vessel crafted so beautifully.” You don’t mean to sound like you’re flattering yourself, but it is what she said, at least. You want to know how exactly you’re different from other golems, why the fortune teller had been able to tell you that you were unique in an instant.

Eldoris’ deep blue eyes narrow slightly. “I built your body from the clay found along the rocks worn away by the sea that have bathed in moonlight for aeons, before the mortals came into existence. With my own hands I crafted you, a feat unheard of by any other magician. To animate golems, a magic slip is placed in their mouths by their creators to represent the breath of life of the Creator. They then move, act upon their master’s wishes, but you see, Chin Hae… there’s one thing that sets you apart from all other golems.”

You find yourself unconsciously leaning forward, desperate to know what she has to say next. As far as you know, there is no slip of paper in your mouth. What makes you different?

“You have a heart.”

The very heart she’s speaking about stops in your chest for a second, as if aware that the witch before you is speaking about it. You remember the starry night on the beach, watching the clay of your fingers run with the tide until the mysterious man with eyes as green as the earth had plunged a knife into your chest, placing it inside.

A clay heart.

The moment the heart had been put in your body, clay had become skin and flesh, where there had once been nothing but earth, blood flowed through your veins. You felt the wind and water of the sea with your own fingers, felt air rush into your lungs with each breath you took. For the first time in your life, you felt a heartbeat thud in your chest.

But how?

How was that man able to turn mere clay into… this?

“Powerful magic.” Eldoris says, her voice drifting to you over the wind. You’re startled into shock when you realised she can read your mind with a single glance at your face. “Powerful, ancient magic that I could never even dream about.”

A hysterical snort escapes you. All this talk about arcane and magic and ancient beings is really starting to scare you, goosebumps crawling up your skin. “I suppose not all golems also have this friendly green eyed man to turn their clay into skin?” You shake your head at your own joke, but when the sea witch answers you, her voice is perfectly serious, solemn, even.

“No. Only you.”

You’re stunned with disbelief. What would this supposedly immensely powerful being want with a mere clay golem like you? Why would he bother giving you a heart? And why would he say that everything is going according to plan?

Are you… a pawn in some scheme of his?

But that feeling of desperately reaching out for him comes back to you. Even though you couldn’t recognise his face, part of you seems to remember him, you just know somehow that you trusted him with everything you were.

Then something strikes you as odd.

If golems were merely animated beings of clay, without conscience or heart, then how did you have memories even before the heart was put into your chest?

Your eyes fly wide open in shock all of a sudden.

“Eldoris…” You ask desperately, too anxious to bother addressing her respectfully. Something about it doesn’t feel right to you, anyway. “Before my body was created… was I someone else?”

Her expression doesn’t change in the slightest, but you can somehow see the genuine surprise that flashes across her face. Beside you, you can hear Hongjoong draw in a surprised breath.

“Chin Hae-”

“Yes.”

That one single word leaves her lips with so much surety, as if she needs you to understand that you were someone before this all. Shock shoots through your entire body. It’s not that you had no memories, on the other hand, your memories must have been erased somehow. You were someone.

Her eyes don’t leave yours, beseeching, as if willing you to know something that you don’t.

“Then do you know who I was, how I got into this body, why I have no memories?”

Suddenly, Eldoris’ eyes darken at your words. Her voice drops to something more grave, her tone almost warning, but you don’t realise it in your impatience to get the answers you’ve been waiting for since your awakening.

“I do.” She answers, but her words are grim.

Finally. Your identity and memories are finally in your reach now.

“Can you tell me?” You almost breath, desperate for your answers. You’re finally at the end of your journey now, you can finally discover who you once were and put an end to all of this agony within you.

Eldoris meets your anguished gaze with a calm one of her own, folding her hands elegantly before her and opening her mouth to speak once more.

The word that leaves her lips is unbelievably simple, yet more infinitely complex than you can comprehend.

“No.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #jongho #san #mingi #wooyoung #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; fanfiction #w; pirate king

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jeongyunhoed · 3 years

Photo

8 Stories, 8 Movies from the Golden Age (1930s to 1960s).

It’s the golden age and 8 men are the most sought-after actors in Hollywood. Ateez, but make them Old Hollywood, basically. Lights, camera, action!

Member: Jongho

Genre: Murder mystery, a little bit of comedy, a little bit of romance

Warnings: Murder (as it is a murder mystery), mentions of it including suicide, death, blackmail

Things to note: Divorce then getting back together, infidelity (don’t cheat, it’s bad), horse racing, set in the 1930s.

Will have OCs

As with the rest of the stories in the AU, there will be other idols mentioned.

Masterlist

Prominent surgeon Choi Jongho is forced to team up with his murder mystery author ex-wife to investigate a murder at a racetrack.

The Ex-Mrs. Choi

tag list: @minervaaaaaaaa , @closer-stars

Part 2

Jongho was pacing back and forth in his office the next day. The rumbling and rummaging he could hear from Miyoung’s bedroom kept him awake half the night. She kept him and Yeosang awake the whole night trying to make herself comfortable in his apartment, which used to be theirs before she moved out after their divorce. On top of trying to get comfortable with the idea of living with his ex-wife again, he also had a mystery in his hands, one of which was the test tube with the sample of the substance he took from the jockey’s body at the morgue and where it was. He was supposed to analyze the substance when he saw it was gone.

“There was a scalpel in a test tube,” He explained to Yeosang, who was busy looking through the chairs and under the tables. “It had a gummy substance on it and I left it on my desk here last night and now it’s gone.”

“Yes sir, so far I’ve seen none,” The butler replied. “It must have disappeared.”

“Alright, never mind, Yeosang I’ll need you to do something else,” Jongho said, and Yeosang stood back up. “Did Hongjoong call yet?”

“No sir.”

“Have you tried reaching Hongjoong?”

“Yes sir, but no one’s been answering.”

“Try again, maybe he’ll pick up today.”

“Did you try all the numbers I gave you?” Jongho asked, remembering that Hongjoong had a few phone numbers where he answered.

“Yes sir. No one’s seen Mr. Kim since early last evening, when he came here,” Yeosang replied, walking up to the phone to dial the list of numbers again. He paused when he heard one pick up. “Mr. Kim Hongjoong? One moment please,” He gestured for Jongho to pick up the receiver.

“Hello, is this Kim Hongjoong?”

“Yes, this is Kim Hongjoong,” said a low voice from the other line until it changed. “Who’s this?”

Jongho exhaled sharply and closed his eyes. If his blood pressure didn’t shoot up before, it probably felt like it was now. “Oh, Kim Miyoung. What are you doing over there? Where’s Hongjoong?”

“It’s Choi Miyoung to you, Jongho, I took your last name, get used to it,” Miyoung replied. “But I don’t know where he is. I do have clues though that might lead to him, it might take me the whole day but I’ll find him.”

“Alright fine, when I see him I’ll tell him you’re looking for him too.”

Evening had set in and Jongho returned from the hospital, still thinking of the day’s events and of the progress he, or well, Miyoung, somehow made in figuring out who killed the jockey. As he entered the front hall of his apartment, taking his hat and coat off to hang it on the side, Miyoung appeared. “Honey, you’re home,” She said. “Any luck today?”

“Consider yourself bust,” Jongho followed her into the living room and sat down on the couch. Miyoung stood behind him, gently massaging his shoulders.

“You look tired.”

“I am, I had six operations in one day,” He closed his eyes, trying to relax as Miyoung’s hands were on his temples. Jongho opened his eyes when he felt her pull away.

“You need to relax, put this on,” She handed him a familiar looking scarlet jacket.

“Hey, that’s my smoking jacket, I was looking everywhere for that!” Jongho looked astounded as he took the piece of clothing from her, smoothing over the fabric.

Miyoung leaned on the armrest of the couch next to him, helping him put the jacket on. “You’re going to dig into my girlish heart,” She chuckled. “That’s been to Honolulu, Bali, China, Japan, it went with me,” She admitted. “I missed you.”

Jongho sighed. “Well, full disclosure between us, I missed you too,” He said. “Hey, we’re on the verge of getting sentimental here.”

She chuckled, gently feeling the material of the jacket on his arm. “I thought so too,” She stood back up. “Well, how about some dinner?”

“Dinner? It’s Yeosang’s day off,” Jongho replied. “If you were the right kind of ex-wife, you’d probably get dinner ready at home, as it is-”

“As it is I am the right kind of ex-wife and I have dinner ready at home,” Miyoung grinned.

“Really?” A smile formed on his lips.

“Anytime I fix dinner at home, you know it’s serious,” She pointed out. “Don’t start acting like you don’t know me, silly.”

A sigh of relief escaped him. “Miyoung, you’re terrific. It’s things like these that make a guy appreciate having a woman around the house. Coming home tired but to a warm meal at the end of the day?” He stood up.

Miyoung took his hand and led him to the dining room, the table already laden with several platters of food, with champagne cooling in the ice bucket. As she brought Jongho closer to the table, he stepped back. “What?” She noticed his confused expression.

“Everything looks like jelly,” He said.

“No, it’s gelatin!” Miyoung pointed out. “Jellied consomme, aspic salad, chicken and jelly-”

“Okay, okay, I get the idea,” Jongho sat down at one end of the table, and she sat at the other end. “It’s all gelatin.”

“Stop complaining and try some of the jellied consomme,” Miyoung pointed to the bowl by Jongho’s plate.

“Did you find Hongjoong?” He stuck his spoon into the soup, watching it wobble before eating it.

“No, but let’s not talk about that for now, let’s have a nice quiet evening for once, the ex-Chois at home,” She said, watching him try more of the soup and cutting into her own. “How do you feel?”

Jongho raised a brow. “I feel fine?”

“That’s funny, I feel fine too,” She said. “Try the chicken in aspic and tell me what you think.”

He obliged, cutting into the savory jelly that had pieces of chicken suspended inside. “It’s not bad, it’s...gelatinous.”

“Feeling sleepy, darling?” She asked.

“No, not particularly.”

“Me neither, I’m not even dizzy.”

“Well that’s something,” Jongho was about to take another bite of the aspic when he noticed Miyoung stand up and take a handful of the jellied consomme to place on her arm. “Kim Miyoung! What on earth are you doing?”

“I always rub gelatin on my arm,” She said, pushing the sleeve of her blouse back some more to rub the rest of the jelly on her skin. “Put some on your face, it feels good,” She broke off one part of the aspic and he ducked away before she could smother some on his cheek. “Do I look okay?”

“You look silly, Miyoungie.”

“Hold out your hand.”

“What for?”

“Just hold it out,” She insisted and he put his spoon down. Miyoung placed the aspic in his hand. “There, some gelatin on the hand does wonders for you.”

Jongho watched her smother more jelly on her arm. “Thanks, thanks a lot.”

“Hang on to it,” She glanced at him.

“I can’t, it slips through my fingers, Miyoungie,” He exhaled sharply, staring at the bits of jelly falling on the table. Jongho knew Yeosang would have his hands full trying to get all of these washed.

“How do you feel now?” Miyoung paused to look at him.

“Kim Miyoung I feel fine, except I’m beginning to get pissed off. What’s the big idea?” Frustration was evident in his tone.

Miyoung frowned and sat back down. “Well, we should be dead by now.”

Now Jongho really couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What? What’s in this stuff?” He said, shaking the jelly out of his hand and onto the plate in front of him.

“Just jelly, but it should’ve killed us!”

“Miyoung, are you crazy? Babies eat this,” Jongho’s brows furrowed at her explanation as he wiped his hands with the table napkin.

“It might have been okay for babies, but it killed Lee Taeyong. That’s what was on the scalpel,” Miyoung explained.

“The scalpel-” Jongho paused at the realization of why the test tube with the scalpel he took from the morgue was missing. “...What do you know about the scalpel?”

“I took it, didn’t you know?” Miyoung said.

“Heaven give me strength,” Jongho closed his eyes. If his hand wasn’t so sticky, it would’ve been at the back of his neck. “Oh, you took the scalpel? I was looking everywhere for that scalpel-” He muttered, trying to stay calm.

“I took the scalpel to the laboratory last night and I had it analyzed already, it was just gelatin,” Miyoung explained, her voice turning into a whisper as she sensed how he was feeling.

“Oh Miyoung, you’re sensational, just sensational,” Jongho was resisting the urge to curl his hands into fists. “For a moment I was already interested in this detecting business, if someone else had stolen the scalpel and oh-” He slowly got up from his chair. “You took the scalpel- Then it proves that there was no poison and it also ruins any help I could give Kim Hongjoong, except finding him,” He padded towards the telephone. “The police will do a better job with that.”

Miyoung quickly followed him. “You’re being a party pooper trying to call the cops,” She pouted, watching him dial the number.

“There’s something strange about Hongjoong though, I want to know what happened to him, he said he’d meet us last night and he never showed,” Jongho waited for the other line to pick up until they heard the doorbell ring. “Who could that be? Wait here,” He said, putting the phone down to approach the door.

“No, no, I want to see-”

“Get out of the way, Miyoung,” Jongho insisted, as the doorbell kept ringing.

“Wait, Jongho, you notice the bell?” She said, following him.

“Yes I did. Just a minute!” He called out the more he walked towards the door, only for Miyoung to hold him back.

“Jongho, don’t open the door, just look in the peephole,” She said, her hold on his arm tightening. “You don’t know who’s behind the door, just look out the peephole.”

“Alright I will. Move out of the way,” Jongho broke free from her grip. “Who is it?” He called out, looking through the peephole.

“What do you see?” She whispered.

Jongho leaned back. The bell kept ringing. “There’s someone against the door. Move, move away, Miyoung,” He said, gently pushing her back.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to open the door,” Jongho said, turning the knob.

Miyoung squealed in surprise as a suited man fell inside and at their feet, motionless. Jongho glanced down the hall before looking back at the body that fell inside. “Who is it? Why is he lying there like that?” She said, almost hiding her face.

Jongho bent down and turned the body over. His eyes widened as he realized who it was. “It’s Hongjoong.”

“Kim Hongjoong?” Miyoung gaped, watching him gently frisk the body, trying to feel for a pulse.

“Yeah, he’s been shot,” Jongho lifted the jacket open to reveal a bullet wound in Hongjoong’s chest.

“Jongho, there’s a note on his sleeve,” Miyoung pointed to the piece of paper pinned to the cuff. “What does it say?”

Jongho gently removed the paper to look at what was scribbled onto it. “This guy wouldn’t turn over the money either,” He read out.

The police had arrived a little while later at Jongho’s call, sealing off the front hall as a crime scene as some officers took photos of the body. Other officers were dusting the outside of his door for fingerprints, some of them even analyzing the note that was found on Hongjoong’s sleeve. Jongho sat on the couch, trying to wrap his head around what he had just seen while Miyoung was in the kitchen, pouring herself a martini. He glanced over at the door upon hearing the chatter amongst the officers grow louder, realizing that the detective in charge had arrived, Lieutenant Jeong Yunho.

“Alright, Dr. Choi, why did you kill him?” Yunho suddenly spoke.

Jongho stopped to stare at him. “Why-” He paused. “That’s ridiculous. What would I kill him for?” He asked.

“Well, if you didn’t, how did his body get here? Outside your door?” Yunho asked this time.

“I don’t know. I just saw someone leaning against the door, I opened the door and his body fell in.”

“Really? That’s pretty good for a man to walk up to the door and ring the doorbell after he’s dead?” Yunho narrowed his gaze at the surgeon.

“Lieutenant, why would I kill Kim Hongjoong?”

“I don’t know, but you’ve become a suspicious character in the last 24 hours, incredibly suspicious,” Yunho explained. “We got a report that you visited the morgue last night, and you found something on Lee Taeyong’s body and took it home with you. What was it?”

“Well, it turned out to be gelatin.”

“Gelatin-” Yunho paused and frowned. “Yeah, that makes as much sense as the coroner’s report. He did an autopsy on the body and said the left ventricle was completely collapsed.”

“Left ventricle collapsed?” Jongho was even more confused. “That’s a symptom of drowning, or strangulation.”

“Drowning, strangulation, gelatin,” Yunho recounted. “That’s a little absurd, don’t you think? Why did you go down there, Dr. Choi?”

“Because of Kim Hongjoong, he came to me-”

“Yeah, and that brings me to another point that, well, points to you being suspicious,” Yunho said. “We sent someone to Mr. Kim’s hotel and we found this,” He held up a bedazzled blue purse. “Do you recognize this?”

Jongho shook his head. “No.”

“That’s interesting, because it’s your wife’s,” Yunho showed him the detail on the bag. “Dr. Choi, there’s no sense for me to beat around the bush, but you’re in quite a spot.”

Jongho was still staring at the bag. “I’m starting to think you’re right.”

“Yeah, I’d have to agree that you’re in a tough spot, Jongho, you’re now public suspect number one,” Miyoung was sitting next to him on the couch later that night after everyone had gone, patting his hand. “You have to find the murderer to clear your name, darling.”

“Which is exactly what I’m going to do,” Jongho nodded, suddenly realizing that he was holding her hand.

“You won’t find him sitting here and staring at the fire, though.”

Jongho let go of her hand. “Miyoung, I don’t want to tell you your business, but in most murders, the motive is money,” He pointed out. “Who stood to make the most out of yesterday’s race?”

“The owner of the winning horse.”

“Exactly,” He picked up the day’s newspaper and turned over to the sports section. Jongho pointed out the results of the horse races. “See here? Sixth race, winner Wave, the owner is Mr. Song Mingi, odds four to one,” He read.

“Song Mingi? That’s the guy who called Hongjoong last night,” Miyoung sat up, taking a closer look at the paper.

“What?” Jongho stared at her.

“Yeah, I found slips of calls made to Hongjoong at his room last night. Song Mingi, Park Seonghwa, and Choi San,” Miyoung said.

It was moments like these where Jongho felt like he could kiss her. “In case of fire, run, do not walk to the nearest exit,” He got up from the couch and rushed to the nearest closet to put his hat and coat on.

“Where are you going?” Miyoung got up as well.

“I am going to find who killed Lee Taeyong,” He said with a renewed enthusiasm.

“Jongho, you’re working on the wrong murder, it’s Kim Hongjoong they think you killed,” She called out, watching him.

He stopped. “Miyoung, it should be obvious even to you that if Hongjoong was killed, it was because he confirmed his suspicions about yesterday’s race and was close to figuring out who killed the jockey,” He pointed out. “If I can follow Hongjoong’s trail last night-”

“No, no, Jongho, wait a minute,” Miyoung went up to him. “If you find out what he did, you might get killed too!”

“Maybe,” Jongho put on his hat and opened the door. “Tell Lt. Jeong I’ll be back soon!” He said and stepped out of his apartment.

“Jongho!” Miyoung called out, hurriedly putting on her coat as well. “Jongho, come back! If you’re going to get killed, I want to be there!”

With Miyoung’s insistence, Jongho waited for her to catch up as they arrived at Song Mingi’s home, also a penthouse unit in one of the buildings in the city. “You want to marry me now?” She glanced at him, looking playful.

“You’re still on that?”

Before she could answer the door opened, standing by was Song Mingi himself, wearing a maroon velvet suit and a robe. “Hello, who are you?”

“I’m Dr. Choi Jongho, and this is-”

“I’m Mrs. Choi,” Miyoung smiled.

“Oh, Dr. Choi, yes, I’ve heard about you. You got involved in that inquest a few years ago regarding the death of a socialite, right? Come in, come in,” Mingi stepped aside to let them in.

Jongho and Miyoung stepped inside, Mingi’s butler immediately approaching them to take their coats off. “Mr. Song, I’m investigating yesterday’s race,” He figured he had better be direct at this time.

“Investigating for the track officials?”

“Sorry, I can’t really say,” He shook his head. “Tell me, Mr. Song, what kind of a trainer was Kim Hongjoong?”

“Well, one of the reasons why I wanted to buy Park Seonghwa’s stables was because I knew Hongjoong was included,” Mingi replied.

“Oh, then the deal didn’t go through?” He asked this time.

Mingi shook his head. “No. Park Seonghwa wanted an extra twenty million for Illusion and I couldn’t pay. Oh, and this is my wife, Jihye,” He gestured to the woman entering the room with a tray of what looked like cookies. “Jihye, this Dr. Choi Jongho, and Mrs. Choi.”

“Have some cake, they’re very good,” Jihye set down the platter on the table.

Jongho and Miyoung helped themselves to the small slices already cut out for them. “Thank you,” He ate a forkful and turned back to Mingi. “So, uh, is that what you called Hongjoong about last night?”

“Oh, no, Dr. Choi. I saw him at Seonghwa’s house,” Mingi replied.

The two of them nodded. “I see. These cakes are really good, Mrs. Song, what are they?” Jongho asked.

“Just a little idea of my husband’s,” Jihye smiled. “A gelatin filling.”

Jongho and Miyoung coughed in their seats in surprise.

The journey to Park Seonghwa’s mansion took a little longer than Jongho expected, having fully convinced Miyoung to go back home after visiting Song Mingi took even longer. Agreeing to marry her again was the last thing on his mind, not that he had already said yes to her offer. As he arrived, he noticed the stables nearby, with the horses being tended to by the owner himself, his wife next to him.

“That’s a very handsome horse there, Mr. Park,” Jongho said, after greetings and introductions were exchanged. “I can buy him from you right now.”

“Sorry, I’ve never sold any horses, sick or well,” He waved a hand dismissively.

“Oh, I thought you were considering selling your stables.”

“I? Of course not,” Seonghwa stared at him. “I told my trainer Kim Hongjoong not to bother with any offers.”

“Really?”

“Won’t you come in, Dr. Choi?” Seonghwa’s wife suddenly suggested.

“No thank you, I’m perfectly fine out here,” Jongho replied. “You see Mr. Park, I’m investigating yesterday’s race.”

“You mean, Taeyong’s death?” Mrs. Park asked, her expression falling. Jongho nodded. “Oh, I’m sorry. Seonghwa, you explain, excuse me,” She looked crestfallen as she returned to the house.

“We were both very fond of Taeyong, Dr. Choi,” Seonghwa said. “His death came as a great shock to us. To her most especially.”

“I understand. I imagine Hongjoong was upset too.”

“Very.”

“Is that why he came here last night?” Jongho asked.

“Last night? Oh yes, and to pay me some money he owed me.”

“So, he made a lot of money at the track yesterday?”

“Hongjoong couldn’t have done that if Illusion lost,” Seonghwa shook his head.

“He might have placed a bet on Wave,” Jongho pointed out.

Seonghwa’s expression stiffened. “Dr. Choi, I resent that implication. My trainer is an honest man.”

“Sorry, but thank you for your help, Mr. Park.”

“About time you came back,” Miyoung stood up when she saw Jongho appear in the hall looking defeated. “What did you find out from Mr. Park?”

Jongho sighed, allowing her to put his hat and coat away for him. “That I’m not a detective. There are a lot of promising suspects from whom I’ve gathered a lot of misinformation. Which is true, which isn’t, I don’t know.”

“Then, let’s turn that frown upside down because I have an idea,” Miyoung held his hands.

“Which only means that I get into more trouble.”

“Don’t start, but we’ve overlooked our most important clue so far, the note,” She said.

He stared at her. “Miyoungie, you’re right, the note. The threatening note that was sent to Lee Taeyong.”

“All we need to do is figure out who wrote it and we’ve got the murderer,” She said. They heard the doorbell ring again, making them stop and listen. “Who do you think that is?” She murmured.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Jongho said just as softly.

“How?”

“I’ll open the door,” Jongho gave her a look before carefully opening the door. Standing behind was Seonghwa’s wife.

“Oh, Dr. Choi, I’m so sorry to come here at a time like this-” She said, looking worried.

“Hello! Hello again Mrs. Park, come in, come in,” Jongho stepped aside to let her enter, Miyoung standing by.

“I hate to bother you at this hour but-” She stopped when she saw Miyoung. “Oh, excuse me.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Park, this is Mrs. Choi,” Jongho introduced them and they exchanged nods in response.

“Dr. Choi could you- I mean if I could speak to you alone for a moment?” Mrs. Park asked.

“Of course,” Jongho nodded. “In my office?”

“No! No, don’t bother, I’ll leave you two alone,” Miyoung offered, glancing at him as she walked off to the nearest room.

Jongho led her to the living room. “Thank you Miyoungie. So Mrs. Park-”

“Dr. Choi, where is Kim Hongjoong?” She suddenly asked.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”

“I’ve got to find him, Dr. Choi.”

“Mrs. Park, you clearly want me to help you, but how about you help me first?”

“How?”

“Did you talk to Kim Hongjoong last night?”

“Yes,” She nodded. “At my home.”

“What did you talk to him about?”

“A threatening note Taeyong received before the races began,” Mrs. Park replied. “Hongjoong told me he gave it to you and if you think that if Taeyong was killed you probably think that the person who wrote that note-”

“Is the murderer?” Jongho asked.

Mrs. Park nodded. “Yes. You see, Dr. Choi, I wrote that note.”

He stared at her. “Mrs. Park, is this a confession of murder?”

“No, no,” She shook her head. “I promise you that note had nothing to do with the murder.”

“What did the note mean anyway, Mrs. Park?”

Mrs. Park looked down, unable to look him in the eye. “This isn’t very easy for me to say Dr. Choi, but I’ve been a very stupid woman. Seonghwa was suspicious. Taeyong knew that there was someone else,” She sighed. “Taeyong thought of Seonghwa as a brother and out of loyalty to him threatened to tell him. I wrote Taeyong that note and then he died,” She looked up at him again. “So you see the note has to be destroyed, please give it to me, I promise you-”

“Don’t be a sap, Jongho,” Miyoung appeared before he could answer, having overheard them.

“Miyoungie, will you please-”

“Give me the note,” She said. Jongho took out the piece of paper from the coat pocket and handed it over.

“What do you want it for?”

“Shush, darling,” She turned back to the other woman. “Mrs. Park, will you please write on this notepad, ‘you do as I tell you, keep your mouth shut’” Miyoung handed her a pen. Mrs. Park did as she was told and gave the notepad back. She held up both notes. “Mhmm, yes the handwriting’s the same. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t covering for someone else.”

“Good girl,” He said, looking impressed.

“Here’s your note,” She said, handing Mrs. Park the slip of paper.

“Bless you both,” Mrs. Park looked relieved. “Thank you very much.”

“Don’t mention it, Jongho was glad to do it” Miyoung glanced at him with a small smile.

“Good night Dr. Choi, Mrs. Choi,” Mrs. Park said before closing the door behind her.

Jongho and Miyoung turned to each other. “That got us a long way,” An exasperated sigh escaped him. “I can feel the noose around my neck already.”

Miyoung shook her head. “Jongho, what’s the name of that bookkeeper you used to know? His name was San, right?”

“Choi San?”

“That’s it, Choi San,” She said.

“What does he have to do with this?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just that Mrs. Park mentioned something about her husband being suspicious,” Miyoung recalled. “Because this afternoon, I saw her and Choi San together at the Inception bar.”

Jongho stared at her. “...You did?” He said. “Mrs. Park and Choi San?”

“Mhmm,” Miyoung nodded. “They sat next to me, and San was yelling about losing a lot of money when Wave won.”

“Which means someone placed a bet with him,” Jongho felt the wheels in his head turning. He turned to take his hat and coat off the rack to put it back on. “Bye, Miyoungie,” He said.

“What? Wait, where are you going now?” Miyoung gaped at him.

“I’m going to pay Mr. Choi San a visit and I hope he’s not around when I do,” He slipped on his coat. “I’d like to take a look at his records in his safe.”

Just as he had hoped, Choi San wasn’t in his office. Jongho crept inside, keeping his steps as quiet as possible as he tried to look into his cabinets. Mrs. Park was cheating on Seonghwa with Choi San, he realized, making him just as suspicious.

“Get away from that safe.”

Jongho froze and slowly turned around, his hands immediately up. San was standing by the door, holding a gun. “Oh, hello, San. I didn’t expect to see you at this time.”

“Yeah, I hardly thought you would,” San kept the gun pointed at him. “I didn’t think you were one for opening safes, Dr. Choi.”

“Well, we surgeons open anything.”

“Very funny,” San stared at him. “Keep your hands up. You really thought you’d find Kim Hongjoong in there, did you?”

“I found him, San,” Jongho replied. “Not here. Hongjoong’s dead.”

“Well, that figures. You start double crossing and you know what you’re going to get-” San threatened. “Did they find out who did it?”

“The police think I killed him, San.”

A chuckle escaped his lips, followed by a satisfied grin. “No kidding, you’ve found yourself between a rock and a hard place.”

“Look, San, you know full well what happens to people charged with murder, and I have no intention of suffering that if I can avoid it,” Jongho said. “The only way out for me is if I can prove that someone else killed Hongjoong and I plan on doing just that.”

“You can’t be faulted for trying.”

“I can do better than try, San. I have an appointment with Lt. Jeong Yunho in the morning, and I can tell him a lot of interesting things.”

“Funny, what makes you sure you’re going to see Lt. Jeong in the morning? Or anyone else?”

“Well yes, there’s that to consider,” Jongho replied. The phone on the desk suddenly rang, making the two men look. “Well, San? Should I answer the phone?”

“Go over there,” San gestured to the other side of the room, keeping him at gunpoint while he picked up the receiver. “Hello? Oh yeah,” He glanced at Jongho. “Yeah, wait a minute,” San looked over at him, handing over the receiver. “It’s Lt. Jeong, for you.”

“Lt. Jeong?” Jongho tried not to look surprised.

“Yeah, and you tell him everything is fine, Dr. Choi,” San warned, stepping back to let him talk.

“Is it?”

“Yeah, tell Lt. Jeong that everything is alright.”

Jongho calmly put the receiver to his ear. “Hello lieutenant?”

“Hello Dr. Choi, I’ve got everything under control here,” He heard a cough on the other line until he realized who was really speaking. “How are you doing, darling?”

“Damn-” Jongho cleared his throat. “Thanks, Lt. Jeong, everything is fine. Yes, I’ll be there,” and he hung up.

“Alright Dr. Choi, you win, for the time being,” San put his gun down. “You can thank your friend Lt. Jeong over there, and now that you’ve seen my books you understand how I felt about Kim Hongjoong, rest in peace.”

“Sure, sure, but I’m still a little puzzled about that.”

“Can’t you read?” San flipped over one of the record books towards him. “Look, Kim Hongjoong, he bet twenty five million on Wave to win and paid off four to one. And I’m stuck for one hundred million, every single cent.”

“That’s what I’m confused about, San,” Jongho looked over the record again. “You knew Hongjooong was betting on Wave, you must have known that Illusion would lose.”

“Hongjoong didn’t make the bet himself, he was too smart for that. He had someone else place the bet instead.”

“Who was he?”

“Beats me, some guy with a mole under his eye,” San replied. “He was going to call me after the race to tell me where to send the winnings.”

“And did he?”

“Yeah, he said to send it to Kim Hongjoong. Apartment A, 1024 Powell street,” San recalled.

Jongho raised a brow. “Hongjoong lived at the Treasure Hotel.”

“Of course I knew that, he was using the other address as a decoy, and I wanted to give Hongjoong a piece of my mind, tell him what I thought of him, so I called him at his hotel and he came over here,” San explained.

“What did Hongjoong say?”

“What do you think? He said he never made the bet,” San frowned.

“Why would he do that?”

“Beats me, but when I told him about the guy with the mole under his eye, he came through. Took the money and left.”

Jongho nodded. He picked up the phone again to dial a number. “Hello? Yes, I’d like to send a telegram,” He covered the receiver, turning back to San again. “Where were you supposed to send the money again?”

“Apartment A, 1024 Powell street,” San answered.

“Hello? Yes, to Dr. Choi Jongho, 1117 Arthur street,” Jongho said to the operator. “The message is, meet me at my apartment,” and he repeated the address San gave him. “Signed, Kim Hongjoong. Yes, charge it to Dr. Choi, thank you,” and he hung up.

San looked confused. “What’s the deal?”

“Oh, just in case I won’t be around in the morning. I want Lt. Jeong to know where I am.”

#kdiner #ateez #jongho #choi jongho #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez jongho

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barnesbabee · 4 years

Text

I’m a Lie || K.H

Summary: Destiny is cruel sometimes... And you sure were punished by it, when you met your soulmate in the worst scenario possible.

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Words: Who cares tbh

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

⚠ choking, spanking, praise kink, violence, mentions of drugs ⚠

A/N: I love this one. By far one of my favourites and I feel like it suits the member well. If it flops I will singlehandedly murder everyone. Enjoy xx💖

ᴄʀ: ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱʙᴀʙᴇᴇ

The file plopped in front of you. A picture of a man was attached to it and you looked at it briefly.

Kim Hongjoong.

"Retain information. Eliminate him. It's not important how, by the end of the month Kim Hongjoong has to disappear."

You said nothing. Your only reply was a nod, and with that you grabbed the beige folder and exited the gelid room. The jet was already at the top of the building waiting for you to enter.

You bowed to the security guards that stood by each side of the jet's stairs, and they reciprocated the gesture.

Once you settled down in the plane, you crossed your legs and prepared yourself for some thorough reading. You flipped through the pages of the man's profile, taking in all of the information.

"Producer, writer, rapper... Kid had a future." You closed the binder with a sigh and threw it on the small table in front of you "Too bad."

You sipped from the water bottle in your hand and a man sat in front of you. He had a rough face, like he'd been through Hell and made it out alive. His dark hair was tamed by a coat of hair gel, and his eyes were droopy yet feral.

"Junhwan." You said, and bowed at him.

"Y/N." He bowed back.

He handed you a second file and a heavy handbag.

"From now on your name is Anne. You're an exchange student interested in pursuing a musical career as a producer. All of the items to bring 'Anne' to life are in the duffel bag."

You nodded and set the bag aside, ready to take in your character.

"Poor kid..." You told your colleague as you read the details of the person you'd be impersonating for the next few weeks.

The man in front of you scoffed.

"Since when do you pity people?" He asked with an amused face.

"I don't. But he got caught in a fight that wasn't his."

Junhwan leaned closer to you and looked you in the eye, irradiating and intimidation as he slightly leaned his head to the right.

"Don't let decency and sentiment get in the way." He warned with a cold voice.

You didn't reply. You felt offended that the man would even insinuate you'd fail at anything. You glared at him for a second, and drifted his attention back to the 'Anne' files.

However, you couldn't get out of your head the poor man that would be sacrificed in the name of another individual. It was unbeknownst to everyone how it had happened, but Hongjoong had caught his boss making a significant transaction to your boss and talking about it on the phone. He didn't understand at first, but when he caught sight of the bags filled with the white powder he was able to connect all the dots. Unfortunately for him, he was caught. And although the CEO of his company trusted him enough to keep quiet, your boss didn't.

It was sad... Usually the people you were assigned to were madmen, criminals, vile people that couldn't differentiate joy from violence, but never young men, at the peak of their career whose life was cursed by knowledge.

You sighed one last time before making your way to the bathroom. You dyed your hair blue and cut it shoulder-length, as you wanted your appearance to scream "creativity". Your hair was usually bleached, so if you had to suddenly dye it for some sort of mission it would be faster and easier.

One hour later you exited the bathroom, with blue hair and a brand new outfit that had been given to you. You grabbed all of your materials and exited the jet that hat landed not long before that.

Time flashed by the second you stepped foot in Seoul. You were used to monotone scenarios, cold atmospheres, and torture, but Seoul was the opposite. The lights and colors of the city were inviting and the smiles of the old ladies selling food on the street gave you a warm feeling in your body.

You tried to adjust to the city for the next day, and by 3 PM your assigned phone sounded with a ding. You checked it and read the message Junhwah had sent you.

"9 AM. KQ Entertainment, two blocks down your home. They will be teaching you, you're supposed to be an intern. I expect excellence and nothing else."

You took in the information and nodded to yourself as you read it.

"Understood." You typed and hit send.

You studied Hongjoong thoroughly that night. Every little movement, every peculiar habit, and every detail about the man. You wished you didn't need to do it however... The more you looked into him, the more you realized how pure, generous, hard-working, and amiable he was.

"Fuck..." You cursed, dragging the 'u' in the word, as you threw your head back.

You couldn't take watching that smile that would soon be gone anymore, so you just crashed in the small bed of your flat and waited for the next day.

When 9 AM rolled in, you were already in the building, looking for some sort of guidance.

"Are you Anne?"

You whipped your head to find a man you'd never seen before. He certainly wasn't a member of ATEEZ, but he looked like an idol.

It was finally time for you to perform as Anne, and so you put on a scaredy-cat face and bowed nervously.

"Y-yes, yes I am."

You made sure to add a little stutter for conviction. It seemed to convince the man, as he chuckled and extended his hand.

"I'm Jiho, but I go by Zico." He paused as you smiled and shook his hand "I will be one of your mentors, along with Hongjoong. He's the leader of ATEEZ, have you heard of them?"

You nodded your head slightly and he smiled.

"You'll like him. Follow me then, he's already in the studio."

Much to your dismay, Hongjoong was exactly what he displayed on camera. You half expected him to be rude and stuck-up, but he was just as kind and loving how as he made it look.

Focus on the mission.

Getting close to Hongjoong was easy. You pretended to be interested in every single task at hand, constantly asking for his help and even staying for longer than necessary at night.

“Anne... You know you don't need to stay, right?" Hingjoong told you.

His voice was tired, and he looked as if he needed to sleep for a day straight to catch up on missed sleeping hours but he still kept on working.

"I know Joong but..." You paused, looking down at your feet and fiddling with your fingers, trying to sell your character as best as you could "I like to spend time with you."

The last sentence came out a little too sincere for your liking, and for a second you became worried. All of the worry was replaced with confusion when Hingjoong brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. You looked up at him as if to ask 'What are you doing?'.

Hongjoong leaned forward and his lips ghosted over yours for a second. You didn't move, afraid of what the aftermath would be, but his impatience won over and he closed the gap.

You hated it. You hated how amazing it felt, how your lips fit together, how you felt a wave of sparks throughout your body, how his hands burned on your thighs... You felt like your whole body was on fire and fuck, you wanted to grab him by the collar and pull him closer, but you couldn't.

He pulled away, leaving you wishing for more. His stare instantly roamed around the room, avoiding your figure.

"I-I'm sorry... I'm sorry if you feel it's rushed. I'm sorry if you didn't like it but I don't know... I feel a connection with you, you know? It's cheesy, but I've never met someone who loves to work as much as you, someone who's always inspired and who's always eager to learn more, someone so loving and creative."

Your heart broke at the confession. It shattered into a million pieces that could never be put together again, and you hated what you were doing. You were knowingly breaking this man apart, tearing him up and destroying him bit by bit, and he had no idea, he just contributed to it.

"Hongjoong I... I feel the same way. I love working with you and you're such an amazing person, I'm sorry if you never felt it, it's just that I'm really nervous around you."

Those words were the hardest you had ever spoken, and the content smile in his face after your untruthful confession hurt more than any bullet you'd ever taken, or any knife that had ever stabbed you.

A Lie. He was happy because of a lie, your lie.

"Would you maybe join me for a drink tomorrow?"

You bit your lip. You were sure that if your response had to be vocal, a sob would end up leaving your lips.

You only nodded as a reply to his question, and said nod was met with the brightest smile you'd ever seen and a small nervous laugh.

"It's a date then!" He cheered.

"So it is..." You said, and pulled off the greatest fake smile.

You looked at the clock on the wall and pretended you had no idea what time it was before you had noticed it.

"Oh my! 3 AM!? I really must be going, I'll see you tomorrow Hongjoong!"

You kissed his cheek and left with a small wave.

The second you entered the flat, you threw your bag against the table and slid down the wall, face buried in your hands and the sobs you'd been holding back were let out and echoed in the almost empty room. You couldn't help but ket tears fall down your cheeks, wetting your palms in the process.

You detested the feeling. You dispised the overwhelming guilt taking over you. You hated that Hingjoong probably strolled back to his flat and happily told his friends about how he had a date and was looking forward to it, you hated how your lie was selling perfectly.

You stood up and stumbled across the room to find a mirror. You placed your hands on the sink for support and rested your forehead against the mirror.

"You need to get closer to him... You need to know what he knows... You need to make him speak... You need him to expose his knowledge... You need to do this. It is but another job." You repeated to yourself, in hopes that perhaps this chaos in your mind and stabbing pain in your chest would leave and let you be.

But it didn't. The pain only increased and became stronger, second after second. Hongjoong's face would sometimes flash on your mind, and a small smile would unintentionally spread on your lips.

The next day came excruciatingly fast, and as soon as it was deemed acceptable to be awake, your phone made a ding, and you checked it immediately.

Hongjoong told you about the time and place you'd be meeting in, and so you replied with an 'okay!' along with a couple excited emojis, although they represented nothing of what you were feeling, quite the opposite.

You threw on whatever you thought would please him most: black thigh-high socks, a green flowy skirt, and a black and yellow crop top.

Before you left to meet him you looked in the mirror and made sure to congratulate yourself for your work. You managed to carry on your mission, even though your wishes were to run away with this man and ket him live.

You took a deep breath and made your way to the small bar nearby. You had no worries walking around at night in a short skirt, because you were surely not short on knives.

It was a small place, decorated with rustic furniture and numerous rock and indie band items, ranging from albums, to picks, to guitars. The whole aesthetic fit Hongjoong pretty well, and when you spotted him in one of the tool chairs you realized how he morphed into the ambient. You smiled softly and approached him.

"Hongjoong, hi!"

You were immediately met with a blinding, toothy smile from the man, who stood up and immediately hugged you.

Throughout the night, Hongjoong ecstatically told you about his life, his hobbies, his friends, and about everything and anything. He was thrilled to have you there and you found it adorable how he wasn't afraid to demonstrate his fondness.

When it came the time to talk about you however, a sting hut your heart, and it's as if someone was squishing it from the inside of your body. But the lies flew out of your mouth naturally, telling him about a life you never had, about friends that weren't real, and about your untrue hobbies.

It was all so amusing to him... Hearing all about Anne's life...

The conversation came to a halt when the bartender approached you two.

"I'm sorry guys but I'm going to have to ask you to leave, on weekdays we close at 2 AM."

His mouth formed an "oh", and although neither of you said it, you both knew that you didn't want this to end. Fuck, you'd stay up for work for a longer amount of time...

"Hongjoong do you maybe... Want to go back to my flat and hangout? It's nearby!"

No, fuck what are you doing, crazy bitch.

"Sure! I'd love to!" He replied, absolutely thrilled about your invitation.

He held your hand tightly as you walked down the cold street towards your flat. You couldn't stop asking yourself why you had done it... Perhaps an inner wish that came out at an unfortunate timing?

It took no longer than ten minutes for you to reach the apartment, and once you stepped in you felt the need to apologize.

"I'm sorry... It's very small but it's all I need."

Hongjoong shrugged and took his jacked off, he approached you and placed his hand in your chin, making you look up at him.

"It's a cute apartment, just like you." He told you, whispering the last words.

As if it was a magnet, his lips were drawn to yours in a much passionate kiss than your first.

His tongue entered your mouth and left no corner unexplored, as his hands gripped your ass from under the skirt.

You could taste the alcohol in his tongue, adding a new flavor besides desperation and neediness to the kiss.

You were surprised at his dominant demeanor, yet it pleases you very much, and you were impatient to find where it leads you.

Hongjoong's lips trailed down your jaw and eventually found your neck, where he left small bites, and sucked on the soft spots.

"If you only knew what this skirt was doing to me..."

Your hands found his jeans, that you quickly unbuttoned. You slid your hand inside of them and applied pressure on his hard-on with your palm.

"I think I might be able to guess..."

You bit your lip, and palmed him through his underwear. Hingjoong threw his head back for a second and chuckled lowly. He grabbed your neck and pulled your face close to his.

"Fuck, you're such a tease." He moaned.

Hongjoong removed your hand from his body and gripped your wrist so you'd follow him.

He sat down on the bad and grabbed your waist, pulling you down in the process so you'd be straddling him.

He kissed the spot below your ear and tugged on your earlobe.

"I want you to ride me, baby.

"Yes sir..." You whispered in his ear.

You reached for the back of the skirt to unzip it, but hongjoong stopped you.

"I want you to ride me, with your pretty little skirt on."

You stopped straddling him and turned around, so he could perfectly see your naked ass as you stripped from your underwear.

Hongjoong pulled down his pants and underwear slightly, and started stroking himself at the sight.

You went back to him and straddled the man once more, helping him by placing his tip at your entrance before lowering yourself down on him. He filled you up just perfectly, and you hid your moans by burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"I wanna hear your pretty voice baby." He asked of you, while striking your head.

He gripped your hips and started moving you up and down, slowly at first. When you got used to the feeling, you started bouncing on his cock willingly, and he only helped by jerking his hips up and hitting deeper spots.

Hongjoong slapped your ass continuously, his strength increasing every time you slammed down on his dick.

You gripped his shoulders tightly.

"Fuck Hongjoong, I'm about to cum!" You whined.

The man lifted your skirt, so he could see the way he looked fucking you, and it was a sight to see.

"Shit, you're so beautiful..."

One of his hands gripped your neck, applying some pressure to it.

"Hongjoong fuck you're so good!"

Hingjoong came at the little praise, his thick liquid hitting your walls, and the warm sensation inside you made you reach your climax at the same time. The room was filled with whimpers, moans and heavy breathing, as you both came and tried to calm down.

Hongjoong delivered a loving kiss to your lips.

"God, you're amazing Anne."

Anne.

That's when it hit you. You couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't keep lying to the boy, making him live in a false relationship. The feeling was truly real but Anne was just a character.

You had to put an end to it... You couldn't handle doing it any longer. It hurt you to see the boy thoroughly happy and satisfied by a façade.

You stood up and walked to the kitchen, while Hongjoong got dressed. You pulled out your Glock 19 from one of the drawers and rolled the silencer onto it, carefully as to not alarm Hongjoong. You wanted to do this peacefully, you didn't want him to know about your betrayal. However, just as you approached the bed he was sitting in from behind, you let out a sob, and he turned around to look at you.

You hadn't even noticed you were crying. You hadn't even noticed the burning sensation in your throat and the stream of tears in your face, but you certainly felt as if your heart was being pulled out of you, and thrown in a fire.

Hongjoong's worried eyes looked at your face, then at your hand, and back at your face. A sad smile formed on his face and he nodded. He didn’t look disappointed or hurt, just... sad and apologetic, like he understood the situtation.

"It's about the cocaine, isn't it?"

You bit your lip and nodded, like he had done.

You approached him and aimed the barrel at his head.

"Honggjoong I'm... I'm so sorry." The last few words came out as a whisper.

"So am I..."

Before you pulled the trigger, he opened his mouth to speak once more.

"Can I... At least know your name? Please?" He begged.

Although he tried to remain calm, his voice was shaky and his eyes were covered with tears that threatened to fall, sooner or later.

"My name is Y/N."

He smiled, for the last time ever, and looked you in the eye, peeling his stare away from the gun's barrel.

"Y/N, you look beautiful tonight."

He blinked, allowing one last tear to stroll down his cheek, his smile never leaving his angelic face, as you cried, and pulled the trigger.

The silent bang made you collapse, immediately regretting what you had just done. You looked at Hongjoong, looking as beautiful as ever, even if he was bathing in his own bloof, and caressed his face, letting your tears stain his shirt, as you realized you had committed the biggest mistake in your life, but you had no choice.

"I'm sorry Hongjoong, may we meet again, in our next life."

#kim #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #hongjoong smut #hongjoong angst #hongjoong fluff #ateez hongjoong #ateez kim hongjoonf #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #kpop #kpop smut #kpop angst #kpop fluff

198 notes · View notes

baejl · 4 years

Text

moon classes - #1

ateez 9th member au

the first episode of moon’s regular content

masterlist ☾ requests are open

"Hi everyone!" Moon gave a small bow to the camera and sat on her baby blue chair, that was matching the white wall behind her and the white desk in front of her. "Welcome to the first episode of 'Moon Classes'!" she clapped to herself.

She took a deep breath and giggled. It was the first time she'd be showing Atinys her drawings and paintings, she was nervous.

And she had plenty of reasons to be.

It was the first time she was doing something by herself without the boys, and her first appearance after what happened with Lucas. She was worried about what would be people's reaction to her.

"As you guys know, each one of us is having their especial individual regular content and, while I was thinking about what to show you, a lot of ideas passed through my mind. But, instead of attach on a single thing, the members - actually, Yeosang oppa - came with the idea of Moon Classes." Moon told the camera as if the object was a real person. "So, instead of teaching you guys a single thing the whole show, I'll be teaching you guys everything I know so far with my sixteen years of life."

Moon hissed with her own comment and tilted her head, it'd take her some time to be completely comfortable.

"You might know that I like to draw. And it is one of the few things I think Atiny never actually saw, my drawings." she finally said, opening a black folder placed on the table. The first drawing was Jongho's face as a caricature and the girl laughed out loud. "I did this yesterday," she explained trying to hide the paper. "sorry oppa~."

While she was showing all her fashion drawings, random things she decided to draw during a boring literature class and stuff, she pointed out the things she liked to do and the things she tried to avoid.

"I can't actually say like 'oh, I started to draw when I was this age' because as long as I can remember, I've always been drawing." she gave a light laugh. "But I did have my hard times. Especially when I started to train and had no time to draw. It was awful. But, if I can do it, you can do it too."

Moon gave a thumbs up to the main camera, and, with the time, she started to feel comfortable with all the five cameras and big lighting pointed at her. The atmosphere was helping too. Besides her, the only person inside the room was her manager who was distracted enough texting someone on the phone, so, in Moon's mind, the woman wasn't necessarily paying attention to her.

"Without further or do, let's start!" Moon announced. "What you going to need for this class is," she said pointing at the materials on the table and showing to the small camera on the edge of it. "a lot of bond paper - trust me, we gonna use a lot -, a normal pencil, eraser, a black fine-tipped pen and somewhere to firm your paper. If you want to colour it, you can use colour pencils when we're done."

The girl put her hair up in a messy bun, trying to get it out of her face and reached to her phone on the table.

"When I draw I like to be inspired," she said. "so, the first thing I'll do, is searching to a calm music and put the volume down enough just to make me calm and concentrate."

She stayed in silence for some seconds, searching for a perfect song and, when she founded it, she pressed play and lowered the volume.

"Today we're gonna be drawing my favourite things," she made a little suspense before showing one of her old drawings, San's side profile. "PEOPLE!" For the first time, her manager reacted and clapped at the girl, who showed her genuine smile. "Actually, I'll be drawing my mom. I know you guys don't see me talking a lot about her, so, yeah... I decided to make this for you.'"

After giving some more instructions, the girl started her work. While she was starting to make some markings, she answered some questions that she remembered being asked on lives and most of the time she wasn't able to answer.

"I never showed my drawings to anyone but my members actually..." the girl said, moving her clipboard a little bit to have a complete view of her marks. "I feel like my drawings say a lot more about myself than my own songs."

She chuckled.

That went on for almost forty minutes straight. While drawing, she was trying to give the fans almost every tip she could and that she learned by watching other people drawing. She often used to show her manager her work and the woman always praised her for her work. It was really beautiful.

Even though even Moon herself didn't get to know her mom, she has one single picture that she keeps in her mind all day, every day. And she was, even if it was subtly, showing it to Atiny.

She was super concentrated when the door suddenly opened and a all dressed up Yunho showed up, his eyes widened when he realised he had interrupted the girl.

"Wow, Jeong Yunho!" the girl exclaimed turning the table camera at him. The boy's cheeks were red. "What is it?"

"Excuse me.." he said glancing over the manager. "I didn't know she'd be recor-"

"Come in, oppa!" Moon waved her hand so the boy could enter the room without worrying if the manager would be mad about it. "I need your opinion on something."

He said a small hello to the camera and joined the girl.

"What?" he asked looking at the paper on her hands and shocking. "Is this that picture?" the girl nodded biting her lips with the excitement and e started to clap.

"Is this good?" she asked for approval.

"This is a masterpiece!" he said still looking at the drawing with admiring eyes.

"What do you need from me?" she asked. The boy spaced out trying to remember what he was there for.

"Oh!" he said when he remembered. "I just need you to let me make something on your drawing." he opened a false smile. Moon tilted her head back and laughed out loud.

"Are you serious?" she asked. "On my draw?"

"It’s for ANEWZ..." he blinked like a kid.

She sighed giggling and took a finished draw from the previous folder and told him to smoothly colour the tree leaves. He took the green colour pencil she handed him and he made one single line and returned her the pencil.

"Thank you." he said bowing and the girl laughed once again.

"Was that it?" she asked before the boy could leave the room. He just nodded and left. "He's weird." she said once he was gone.

After a few more lines here and there, the draw was finished. She sighed relieved and showed the drawing to the cameras there. Moon looked at the paper once again and felt proud of her job.

"Yeah," she said unable to hid her big smile. "that's today’s class. I hope you guys learned something and, if you did, please post a picture on Instagram or Twitter with the hashtag #MoonClasses. I'll be checking as many as I'm capable of."

She placed the clipboard on the table again and passed around the table, standing in front of the main camera and started to send air kisses.

"Bye, atiny!"

93 notes · View notes

geegeejonghoe · 4 years

Text

I’m A Lie || K.H

Summary: Sweet betrayal...

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Words: oof a lot

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

⚠ usage of guns, violence, choking, mentions of drugs ⚠

A/N: ok but this gif???? Enjoy 💖

ᴄʀ: ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱʙᴀʙᴇᴇ

The file plopped in front of you. A picture of a man was attached to it and you looked at it briefly.

Kim Hongjoong.

"Retain information. Eliminate him. It's not important how, by the end of the month Kim Hongjoong has to disappear."

You said nothing. Your only reply was a nod, and with that you grabbed the beige folder and exited the gelid room. The jet was already at the top of the building waiting for you to enter.

You bowed to the security guards that stood by each side of the jet's stairs, and they reciprocated the gesture.

Once you settled down in the plane, you crossed your legs and prepared yourself for some thorough reading. You flipped through the pages of the man's profile, taking in all of the information.

"Producer, writer, rapper... Kid had a future." You closed the binder with a sigh and threw it on the small table in front of you "Too bad."

"Junhwan." You said, and bowed at him.

"Y/N." He bowed back.

He handed you a second file and a heavy handbag.

"From now on your name is Anne. You're an exchange student interested in pursuing a musical career as a producer. All of the items to bring 'Anne' to life are in the duffel bag."

You nodded and set the bag aside, ready to take in your character.

"Poor kid..." You told your colleague as you read the details of the person you'd be impersonating for the next few weeks.

The man in front of you scoffed.

"Since when do you pity people?" He asked with an amused face.

"I don't. But he got caught in a fight that wasn't his."

Junhwan leaned closer to you and looked you in the eye, irradiating and intimidation as he slightly leaned his head to the right.

"Don't let decency and sentiment get in the way." He warned with a cold voice.

You didn't reply. You felt offended that the man would even insinuate you'd fail at anything. You glared at him for a second, and drifted his attention back to the 'Anne' files.

One hour later you exited the bathroom, with blue hair and a brand new outfit that had been given to you. You grabbed all of your materials and exited the jet that hat landed not long before that.

You tried to adjust to the city for the next day, and by 3 PM your assigned phone sounded with a ding. You checked it and read the message Junhwah had sent you.

"9 AM. KQ Entertainment, two blocks down your home. They will be teaching you, you're supposed to be an intern. I expect excellence and nothing else."

You took in the information and nodded to yourself as you read it.

"Understood." You typed and hit send.

"Fuck..." You cursed, dragging the 'u' in the word, as you threw your head back.

You couldn't take watching that smile that would soon be gone anymore, so you just crashed in the small bed of your flat and waited for the next day.

When 9 AM rolled in, you were already in the building, looking for some sort of guidance.

"Are you Anne?"

You whipped your head to find a man you'd never seen before. He certainly wasn't a member of ATEEZ, but he looked like an idol.

It was finally time for you to perform as Anne, and so you put on a scaredy-cat face and bowed nervously.

"Y-yes, yes I am."

You made sure to add a little stutter for conviction. It seemed to convince the man, as he chuckled and extended his hand.

"I'm Jiho, but I go by Zico." He paused as you smiled and shook his hand "I will be one of your mentors, along with Hongjoong. He's the leader of ATEEZ, have you heard of them?"

You nodded your head slightly and he smiled.

"You'll like him. Follow me then, he's already in the studio."

Much to your dismay, Hongjoong was exactly what he displayed on camera. You half expected him to be rude and stuck-up, but he was just as kind and loving how as he made it look.

Focus on the mission.

Getting close to Hongjoong was easy. You pretended to be interested in every single task at hand, constantly asking for his help and even staying for longer than necessary at night.

"Anne... You know you don't need to stay, right?" Hingjoong told you.

His voice was tired, and he looked as if he needed to sleep for a day straight to catch up on missed sleeping hours but he still kept on working.

"I know Joong but..." You paused, looking down at your feet and fiddling with your fingers, trying to sell your character as best as you could "I like to spend time with you."

Hongjoong leaned forward and his lips ghosted over yours for a second. You didn't move, afraid of what the aftermath would be, but his impatience won over and he closed the gap.

He pulled away, leaving you wishing for more. His stare instantly roamed around the room, avoiding your figure.

"Hongjoong I... I feel the same way. I love working with you and you're such an amazing person, I'm sorry if you never felt it, it's just that I'm really nervous around you."

A Lie. He was happy because of a lie, your lie.

"Would you maybe join me for a drink tomorrow?"

You bit your lip. You were sure that if your response had to be vocal, a sob would end up leaving your lips.

You only nodded as a reply to his question, and said nod was met with the brightest smile you'd ever seen and a small nervous laugh.

"It's a date then!" He cheered.

"So it is..." You said, and pulled off the greatest fake smile.

You looked at the clock on the wall and pretended you had no idea what time it was before you had noticed it.

"Oh my! 3 AM!? I really must be going, I'll see you tomorrow Hongjoong!"

You kissed his cheek and left with a small wave.

You detested the feeling. You despised the overwhelming guilt taking over you. You hated that Hingjoong probably strolled back to his flat and happily told his friends about how he had a date and was looking forward to it, you hated how your lie was selling perfectly.

You stood up and stumbled across the room to find a mirror. You placed your hands on the sink for support and rested your forehead against the mirror.

But it didn't. The pain only increased and became stronger, second after second. Hongjoong's face would sometimes flash on your mind, and a small smile would unintentionally spread on your lips.

The next day came excruciatingly fast, and as soon as it was deemed acceptable to be awake, your phone made a ding, and you checked it immediately.

You threw on whatever you thought would please him most: black thigh-high socks, a green flowy skirt, and a black and yellow crop top.

You took a deep breath and made your way to the small bar nearby. You had no worries walking around at night in a short skirt, because you were surely not short on knives.

"Hongjoong, hi!"

You were immediately met with a blinding, toothy smile from the man, who stood up and immediately hugged you.

It was all so amusing to him... Hearing all about Anne's life...

The conversation came to a halt when the bartender approached you two.

"I'm sorry guys but I'm going to have to ask you to leave, on weekdays we close at 2 AM."

His mouth formed an "oh", and although neither of you said it, you both knew that you didn't want this to end. Fuck, you'd stay up for work for a longer amount of time...

"Hongjoong do you maybe... Want to go back to my flat and hangout? It's nearby!"

No, fuck what are you doing, crazy bitch.

"Sure! I'd love to!" He replied, absolutely thrilled about your invitation.

He held your hand tightly as you walked down the cold street towards your flat. You couldn't stop asking yourself why you had done it... Perhaps an inner wish that came out at an unfortunate timing?

It took no longer than ten minutes for you to reach the apartment, and once you stepped in you felt the need to apologize.

"I'm sorry... It's very small but it's all I need."

Hongjoong shrugged and took his jacked off, he approached you and placed his hand in your chin, making you look up at him.

"It's a cute apartment, just like you." He told you, whispering the last words.

As if it was a magnet, his lips were drawn to yours in a much passionate kiss than your first.

His tongue entered your mouth and left no corner unexplored, as his hands gripped your ass from under the skirt.

You could taste the alcohol in his tongue, adding a new flavor besides desperation and neediness to the kiss.

You were surprised at his dominant demeanor, yet it pleases you very much, and you were impatient to find where it leads you.

Hongjoong's lips trailed down your jaw and eventually found your neck, where he left small bites, and sucked on the soft spots.

"If you only knew what this skirt was doing to me..."

Your hands found his jeans, that you quickly unbuttoned. You slid your hand inside of them and applied pressure on his hard-on with your palm.

"I think I might be able to guess..."

You bit your lip, and palmed him through his underwear. Hingjoong threw his head back for a second and chuckled lowly. He grabbed your neck and pulled your face close to his.

"Fuck, you're such a tease." He moaned.

Hongjoong removed your hand from his body and gripped your wrist so you'd follow him.

He sat down on the bad and grabbed your waist, pulling you down in the process so you'd be straddling him.

He kissed the spot below your ear and tugged on your earlobe.

"I want you to ride me, baby.”

"Yes sir..." You whispered in his ear.

You reached for the back of the skirt to unzip it, but hongjoong stopped you.

"I want you to ride me, with your pretty little skirt on."

You stopped straddling him and turned around, so he could perfectly see your naked ass as you stripped from your underwear.

Hongjoong pulled down his pants and underwear slightly, and started stroking himself at the sight.

"I wanna hear your pretty voice baby." He asked of you, while striking your head.

Hongjoong slapped your ass continuously, his strength increasing every time you slammed down on his dick.

You gripped his shoulders tightly.

"Fuck Hongjoong, I'm about to cum!" You whined.

The man lifted your skirt, so he could see the way he looked fucking you, and it was a sight to see.

"Shit, you're so beautiful..."

One of his hands gripped your neck, applying some pressure to it.

"Hongjoong fuck you're so good!"

Hongjoong came at the little praise, his thick liquid hitting your walls, and the warm sensation inside you made you reach your climax at the same time. The room was filled with whimpers, moans and heavy breathing, as you both came and tried to calm down.

Hongjoong delivered a loving kiss to your lips.

"God, you're amazing Anne."

Anne.

That's when it hit you. You couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't keep lying to the boy, making him live in a false relationship. The feeling was truly real but Anne was just a character.

You had to put an end to it... You couldn't handle doing it any longer. It hurt you to see the boy thoroughly happy and satisfied by a façade.

Hongjoong's worried eyes looked at your face, then at your hand, and back at your face. A sad smile formed on his face and he nodded. He didn't look disappointed or hurt, just... sad and apologetic, like he understood the situation.

"It's about the cocaine, isn't it?"

You bit your lip and nodded, like he had done.

You approached him and aimed the barrel at his head.

"Honggjoong I'm... I'm so sorry." The last few words came out as a whisper.

"So am I..."

Before you pulled the trigger, he opened his mouth to speak once more.

"Can I... At least know your name? Please?" He begged.

Although he tried to remain calm, his voice was shaky and his eyes were covered with tears that threatened to fall, sooner or later.

"My name is Y/N."

He smiled, for the last time ever, and looked you in the eye, peeling his stare away from the gun's barrel.

"Y/N, you look beautiful tonight."

He blinked, allowing one last tear to stroll down his cheek, his smile never leaving his angelic face, as you cried, and pulled the trigger.

"I'm sorry Hongjoong, may we meet again, in our next life."

71 notes · View notes

hongism · 4 years

Text

mists of celeste ➻ 10.5

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 3.3k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒

mists of celeste act one ➻ part 10.5

“Watch your step,” Seonghwa says as you follow him through tall double doors. Despite his warning, you still manage to catch your foot on the edge of the threshold. You don’t fall to the ground – a miracle honestly – but the embarrassment still causes heat to rise in your cheeks. Seonghwa doesn’t make matters any better by turning to smirk at your clumsy actions out the corner of his eye. “I said watch your step.”

“And I said no,” you bite back through the embarrassment. Seonghwa laughs through his nose, waiting for you to pass him before tapping away at the keypad beside the door. It slides shut, and you glare down at the offending piece of threshold that caused you to stumble.

“Are you gonna shoot it for offending you, princess?”

“Might shoot you for the hell of it, pretty boy.” You shift your glare to the tall Lieutenant, who maintains the cheeky grin on his lips even as you bore daggers into his head with your eyes. “Where are we anyway?”

“This is our training room. Shooting range, punching bags, sparring court.” Seonghwa motions around the room, pointing to each thing as he mentions them, and you follow the line of his fingers.

“And we’re here because…?”

“You’re so impatient, princess. At least let a man finish before you interrupt.”

“Your mouth wasn’t even open,” you retort through a scoff.

“I was thinking about what to say.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Well be quiet so I can explain.”

You purse your lips, tongue darting out to run over the front of your teeth. Seonghwa seems pleased by your silence though, and a satisfied smile covers his lips before he continues to speak.

“We’re here to spar.”

“Oh, is that your definition of a good time?”

“If we were going by my definition of a good time, we’d be in my room.”

“I-I – we-well. Right. Yea. R-Right.” His less than wholesome remark comes out of left field, and you certainly weren’t expecting it in the slightest. You can’t stop yourself from getting flustered. Seonghwa chuckles again, letting his tongue toy at the corner of his lips before he speaks again.

“Sparring, because you need to work on your strength if you wanna use that pretty little trigger arm again. Yunho said physical therapy. Have you been doing it?”

“I’ve been doing stretches and stuff…” You trail off. You avoid Seonghwa’s gaze, but it betrays the fact that you have not actually been doing much to strengthen your arm. For which you blame no one but yourself, because, in all honesty, you would have gone to Yunho sooner if not for the lingering awkwardness of your slight argument not too long ago. Which no one knows about as far as you know, but you certainly aren’t planning on making it table talk.

“Right, mhm, stretches – or lack thereof – aren’t going to cut it.” Seonghwa moves away from you and prompts you to follow him, which you do albeit with no shortage of hesitance. He guides you over to one of the walls, opening a small cabinet to pull out a small roll of white gauze. “Wrap your palms and wrists. We’ll start on the punching bags before I kick your ass.”

“Kick my ass? Those are fighting words, Lieutenant.”

“I guess you’ll just have to prove me wrong then, no?” He tosses the roll of gauze over to you, one brow raised high. You catch it with ease but keep your glare on the man as you wrap the material around your palms and wrists. “have you ever done anything like this?”

“Of course I have. You think they just teach us to shoot in the military?”

“You never know. I was looking forward to teaching you a thing or two though. Damn, maybe we can do that if we ever get to try out my definition of a good time. I’m sure I can teach you a lot of things there.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to beat the shit out of you.” You yank the material tight around your wrist, securing it in place before chucking the spool of wrap back at Seonghwa. He catches it with one hand then motions towards where the punching bags hang off to the side with the same hand.

“Quit talking big and go over there.”

You sigh but do as told, and Seonghwa follows behind you. You can hear the tear of the gauze; he must be wrapping his wrists as well, but that’s putting a lot of confidence in your arm being okay enough to spar in the first place. As dramatic as Hongjoong initially made it seem, you haven’t felt too much a difference. Your hand does tremble when holding a pistol in front of you, but close distance isn’t an issue. It’s moreso long-distance that presents an issue, and only with pistols. You aren’t completely sure whether strengthening the muscle will fix that, but it wouldn’t hurt to try anyway. Seonghwa wraps around you, tossing the roll of gauze off to the side, and places a hand on the side of the tattered brown punching bag.

“Just give it a few swings and stuff to warm up. If you’re feeling okay afterward, we can try sparring one on one. Okay?”

“Understood,” you mutter back. Seonghwa clicks his tongue against the roof then steps away from the bag. You wait for him to get out of the way, finding his own bag. He starts to lay into it with jabs and punches. For a moment you just stand there and watch him hit the bag, but he hesitates when he doesn’t hear any sound coming from your side of the room. You whip your head back to the bag in front of you, settling into a stance you remember well from your time in the military.

This was always the most simple lesson for new recruits, and it was all based around strength. You were quite honestly a runt when you first became a recruit, however, and you had little to no strength. Sure, part of that could be blamed upon how you grew up and where, but it put you at a major disadvantage compared to your fellow recruits. That did make you the target of your generals for a time, and you were forced to go through extra training to just be on par with the other members of your unit, but the second they put a sniper in your hands, the balance shifted in your favor.

You still remember your old lessons quite well; although that’s a bit surprising since it’s been so many years since you first took them. The punching bag is rough under your knuckles as you knock against it. There isn’t much strain on your right arm, but the longer you use it, the more it burns. Not necessarily in a painful type of way, but rather just a tired ache in your muscles – a surefire sign that your muscles did indeed take a bigger hit than you initially thought they did.

Several minutes pass just like that; you and Seonghwa on opposite sides of the room, each hitting your own punching bag with force and dexterity. He’s the first one to pull back, sweat beading his hairline and causing the dark strands of hair to stick against his forehead. His chest heaves as he walks over to your side, hands pressed against his hips, and you notice that he’s pushed his sleeves up over his shoulders and revealed toned muscles that could definitely beat your ass handily.

You stop your movements as he gets closer and steady the bag with your left hand to look him in the eye.

“Yes?” You inquire when he doesn’t say anything right away.

“How’s your arm feeling?”

“No pain,” you answer with a small shrug of your shoulders. “Muscles are just a bit underused and tired.”

“You should be fine for some sparring then?”

It takes a second for you to process the statement as a question, and when it finally does, you nod with haste.

“Let’s do it, pretty boy.”

Seonghwa throws his head back as a laugh tears through his chest. He brings a hand to his hair, combing through the damp locks, and you follow him onto a thick mat. You backtrack immediately though to slip your shoes off and leave them at the edge of the mat, whereas Seonghwa just kicks his off on the mat and moves them with his hands. The two of you face each other in silence.

The gleam in Seonghwa’s eyes remains playful even as he secures the sleeves of his shirt further on his shoulders. You mimic the action and fold the sleeves of your basic white tee up like his.

“Two of three. Whoever gets knocked on their ass twice loses. Has to stay down for five seconds for it to count. How does that sound?”

“Easy enough,” you answer, smile stretching but you hide your teeth behind the line of your lips.

“I’ll go easy on you since you’re at a disadvantage, princess.” Seonghwa slides his feet apart slightly and falls into an offensive stance. You mirror his movements but step into a more defensive one. The second lesson they taught you in the military was to watch your enemy for patterns or nuances that would indicate weaknesses. Seonghwa is leaning all his weight on his front foot – the left one – which means he’s going to go for an attack first, then pull that weight back onto his right one. You push back on your right foot, shifting the weight back to be opposite his stance.

“I can handle you, pretty boy,” you taunt, tongue darting out to drag over your top lip.

Seonghwa’s left foot slides in, and you flit your gaze up to his face as he moves. The attack is easy to dodge, his movements readable and basic. You make a jab for the inside of his ribcage, he snaps his hand down against yours and catches your wrist with the same amount of ease. You twist your hand in his grip, slipping loose before he can toss you to the ground. Your gaze pulls off his feet to watch the shifts of his arms instead. As he moves left, you move right, and thus the two of you engage in a small dance.

He attacks next, staying on the offensive side of things. Feet skid across the mat as he lunges forward, but he turns at the last second and secures a hand at your hip. He fights to grab your leg, but you greet him with a sharp elbow to the shoulder. He stumbles back and lets your hip loose. You shuffle back a few steps. Eventually, you’ll have to shift over to the offensive side but Seonghwa won’t let up. He hits you with two consecutive attacks – one jab for your right shoulder, and as you are leaning away from him, he brings his right leg up to hook around your left knee. You don’t even have time to blink before he sends you down to the mat, hitting with enough force to take all the air out of your lungs. Seonghwa comes down with you, knee pressed against the inside of your hip to keep you to the ground. What follows is the longest five seconds of your life, and even as you try to tug out of his grasp, his weight proves too much for you to fight against.

“Five seconds, princess,” Seonghwa taunts as he pulls himself back to his feet once the time elapses. “One point to me then.”

He extends a hand to you, and you take it begrudgingly. He tugs you to your feet. The two of you fall back into your stances without missing a beat. Seonghwa’s eyes dance with playful exuberance as his stance falls to a defensive one. It seems that he wants you to be on the offensive side first this time, but you don’t take the allowance as a compliment. You’re certain that he could flip things back to the offensive side without much effort, so you opt not to go into an attacking stance quite yet. You keep your weight shifting from foot to foot.

You and Seonghwa resume your aggressive dance, exchanging blow after blow but not managing to send each other down quite yet. Whilst you manage to deliver several hits and they land nicely, it’s not enough to cast Seonghwa off his balance. However, now that you know a few of his tricks from the first round and watching his steps, you manage to dart around his attacks with haste. You are lighter on your feet than he is, although he’s still quite nimble and that surprises you for a man of his height.

An opening arises when he leans forward with his left foot. His right comes off the ground for a split second but it’s an opening nonetheless and you slip your foot under his before he brings it back to the ground. The surprise of hitting your foot rather than the mat causes Seonghwa to jerk upwards again. As his leg lifts you use all your force to ram your left shoulder into his chest. He stumbles back, balance quickly diminishing, and you sweep your leg in a circle to catch his and fully bring him to the ground.

His eyes go wide as he falls to the ground, and he almost seems to move in slow motion. You smirk as he hits the mat, an ‘oof’ escaping him, and you press one knee to the middle of his chest.

“Checkmate.” You know he’s more than strong enough to overpower you and flip the position with ease, but Seonghwa just lies back and smiles up at you with fire in his eyes.

“Good move, princess. That’s five seconds.”

“You practically gave that one to me,” you huff as you stand back up straight. You extend an arm to Seonghwa the way he did to you, and he lets you pull him up.

“Then I’ll make sure not to go easy on you this time.” Seonghwa chuckles to himself as he falls back into a fighting stance. You match him this time, knowing that you don’t have any room for error now that the score is one to one. Neither of you are directly offensive or defensive this time. Seonghwa’s posture is relaxed and confident, he doesn’t bend as low this time, and the gleam in his eyes reads arrogance. He’s certain that he will win this round as well, but you’re determined to at least give him hell before he takes you down.

You attack first this time, a swift jab to his outer hip, and Seonghwa closes your hand against his side by slamming his arm down on top of yours. He traps your wrist between his hip and forearm. You push your weight up against him, head connecting with his shoulder. This time, Seonghwa manages to keep you pinned though. He slips a leg between yours, hooking his foot around your ankle. The action nearly sends you spiraling to the ground but you spring your wrist loose at the last second and roll out of the way before he can pin you down.

You exhale a huff of laughter as you look up at Seonghwa. One of his sleeves has fallen back to its original place, but the other maintains its spot rather well. His hair remains pressed flat again his forehead, even more damp than before, and his chest heaves from the further exertion. You’re sure you look to be in a similar state of disarray but you don’t have time to think about it before Seonghwa is attacking you again. The sudden combination of attacks are rough and hard-hitting; he doesn’t even wait for you to get back up to your feet to hit you. You defend yourself as best you can, blocking around half of the attacks comfortably. One of his kicks hits your forearm awkwardly, and you release a small shout of pain at the contact.

Seonghwa ceases his attacks immediately. Freezes up actually and kneels beside you with eyes suddenly full of concern. In all honesty, it didn’t hurt that bad and you don’t even feel a dull throb coming from where he hit you. You’ve never been a fair player though, and you rub at the skin while hissing through your teeth.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Which arm is it? Let me see,” Seonghwa rants, hands coming to rest atop yours. His balance shifts, and in that moment, you swing forward and flip him onto his back. You pin his wrists on either side of his head, a cocky grin overtaking your lips.

“Still going easy on me?” You taunt. Seonghwa blinks up at you, still a step behind, and when he realizes how you tricked him, his expression settles into a bitter one.

“That’s a cheap trick, princess.”

“It still worked on you, didn’t–”

You don’t have time to respond. Seonghwa somehow tugged his wrists out of your grasp while speaking. He swings a leg around your waist and pushes off the ground to alter your positions. All of a sudden, you’re the one laying flat on your back with your wrists pinned to the ground. Seonghwa keeps both of your hands on the mat with only one of his, and you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that the show of strength is mildly impressive. He lifts his other hand to glance down at his wristband. It’s his turn to wear a cocky grin.

“Five seconds, princess.”

“That was cheap.”

“You only had me down for four.” Seonghwa pokes the edge of his mouth with his tongue, eyes taunting you with their playful gleam. “I win. Two of three. Although you put up a better fight than I thought you would.”

“Oh, what a compliment.” You writhe against Seonghwa’s grip. The awkwardness of the position is beginning to settle in a little, with his legs pressed on either side of your hips and his hand pinning yours above your head. He doesn’t let up though, eyes ever-playful as he stares down at you.

“It was cute when you tried to pin me down.” Seonghwa’s eyes scan your expression. Your face is hot but moreso from embarrassment rather than the physical exertion. Seonghwa’s cheeks are a little flushed, small beads of sweat travel down his temple, and you follow the movement with your eyes. “I wonder…” He trails off without finishing the train of thought then pulls off of you a moment later.

It gives you a chance to exhale a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“How does your arm feel?”

“Like it’s gonna be sore tomorrow,” you grumble as you pull yourself into a sitting position. “But it doesn’t hurt.”

“Good. Maybe next time you can actually try to beat me.” Seonghwa stands up and tugs at the bands around his arms. He unwinds them while smirking down at you. You glare back.

“Next time?”

“You think I’m going to let you off the hook? That arm isn’t going to fix itself with some ‘stretches’. I’ll put you on your ass every day if I have to.”

“Yea, well, something tells me you’d like to do that regardless.”

Seonghwa quirks a brow at your muttered comment. You don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body, moving head to toe, then he tilts his head side to side.

“Can’t deny that.”

“Ugh, you’re despicable.” You stand up and head for the double doors, intent on leaving the training room before he gets you even more flustered.

“Four o’clock tomorrow, Y/N!” Seonghwa calls out after you, a laugh in his tone.

“Yea, yea, whatever, pretty boy.”

✧✧✧ a/n: ohohohohoho i smell some sexual tension 👃👃👃👃 JKDFJ this idea came to mind, and some people on the survey were asking about sparring sessions or just daily lives of the crew along with y/n so i decided to break up some of our juicy tension with mORE JUICY TENSION wow at least im consistent sodifjofij i hope you all enjoy this part! it’s quite early in terms of me writing stuff but i couldn’t get this idea out of my head

this is a repost because i deleted the wrong one im sorry just ignore this and me slkdfjljiojo

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @2504-life @lil7bluedragon @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis @anothershorthuman @xxbluestrifexx @yayhei @haotheheckk @noonawriter

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