#kpop fanficiton

[namjoonchronicles]

the specialist | seven

↳ pairing yoongi, you

↳ genre romance, pretend lovers, angst, eventual smut, office-factory setting

↳ title seven | slow cinnamon summer, your spell is pulling me under | 8.812k words

↳ summary  yoongi had stayed over one night in  your bed, in your house. the morning after felt like a small snippet of a slice-of-life romance of a healthy relationship only in reality; it wasn’t. taehyung had return to make your life a nightmare and it didn’t come unnoticed by yoongi and seokjin. a standard operating procedure had you and yoongi your first couple’s quarrel at work. yoongi’s stubborness and your steadfast abiding personality clashes at once. taehyung adds more gasoline into the spark after he revealed he knew yoongi was enrolling into engineering program that you signed him in without him knowing-- which he (and some others) didn’t take well

↳ warnings mature themes, strong languages, violence

↳ compressed links one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten  ongoing .

Seven.

Yoongi exits your Mazda and lifts his arm to say goodbye. He straddles the black bike, puts on his helmet and rides off the hospital parking lot and heads for home. His home. His plait shirt he wore as a jacket flapping in the strong wind. He adjusts his position on the bike, lowering his body and throttles through the wind. The screamer engine, his 4-cylinder bike does all his emotional expression of the night when zooms through traffic, leaving admirers in smokes. Under his helmet, he wore a shy smile, keen for the next encounter. Hopefully.

This morning, he woke up with you sleeping soundly by his side. Pillow fort nowhere to be found, they are scattered on the ground, circling the bed, like some kind of unifying ritual in the way they had placed themselves.

Some time later, he found himself kneeling by your fridge, to see what he could cook for the morning. There’s a couple of eggs in the carton and some English sausages in the freezer. With a little more snooping around, he found potatoes, carrots and green onions. Then he encountered the stove; induction. It wasn’t something he was used to, but with a little googling, had managed to work it out. Potatoes on boil, flour was spread into a mismatched bowl he found in the cabinet. Pans ready to sear the sausages and make some pretty sunny side-ups. From the last time he cooked for you, he noticed you removed the runny egg yolks and only ate the whites. He figured that you would prefer them cooked well and if you don’t like the yolks at all, he’ll finish it. One yolk isn’t runny, the other is. He turned off the stove for the boiling potatoes and peeled the skins while huffing about how hot it was. He took out a fork because he couldn’t find a masher. He mixed the flour with the mashed potatoes and added green onion, then salt and pepper.

Pouring a saucer sized mixture into the sizzling pan, Yoongi lifts the pan from the stove and makes the mixture bigger by twisting his wrist. While he focuses on the potato pancake, the water boiler lets out a digital ring. He swung his head in its direction, flipped the pancake and poured the grounded roasted coffee beans into the filter before pouring the hot boiling water on top of them. Then he lets them steep while he finishes up the pancake mix. He chops the garlic with utmost expertise. Quick and effortless. He throws them into a tempered glass bowl, along with a star anise, cinnamon, coarse chili pepper, and salt. Then he pours hot oil over them to make hot chili oil to dip the potato pancakes in.

It’s not your fault that the view of him shirtless in the kitchen was so captivating you had stood there for a whole 10 minutes, give or take. He only had his jeans on, tattoos on full display. Knowing that underneath that baby blue durable fabric, lays a leg sleeve hidden from view. The very presence alone gives you the bubbling feeling from where you could not mention. You watched his pinky do a sweep into the chili oil now colder than it was and stared how those pinky disappear in between his delectable lips as he gives it a little taste. The moan he let out after was porn-worthy. No, no. It was more valuable than  porn. It felt like something you should not have heard. The lip-smacking, the closed-mouthed whimper had heat wafting across the expanse of your face.

His bang covered half of his brown eyes. His back was larger than you thought it was and from the side his tiddies are showing well, you didn’t understand why this information was important at this time. His veiny hand hover like a pianist over a piano— delicately and carefully, as he plates them up prettily.

You could see how he loves it— cooking. Coldplay’s ‘Magic’ was barely audible in the back, he bops his head to the beat, jutting his lower lips cutely as he turned around to catch you over his shoulder, standing where he was last night; by the doorsill. He held his stare for a while, lips parted slightly before blinking away to turn his back at you to wash his hands without a word.

Did you catch him off guard?

“I’ve held you hostage and you’re cooking for me?” you crossed your arm wearing a cunning smile. “ — for us. We gotta eat,” he brushed his shoulders against yours as he whispered the words in your ear, walking past holding eye contact the whole while.

You don’t know why but you liked how he said ‘We’ and ‘Us’. It sounded good. You also liked how he looked in your kitchen. Otherwise, that whole section feels empty and unusable. With the rice cooker in use, chopping board on the counter, finished meals and brewed coffee— it actually feels like home.

You were woken up by the sound of the beeping you recognised to be your induction stove. Peeking through the door gaps, you saw Yoongi cooking. He looks very at home with everything and he didn’t bother asking where everything was despite being his first time here. You were grateful for that. You needed that sleep. You opened your eyes today feeling almost full. It was difficult to describe. As if all your life, you’ve been wanting to feel this whole, this safe.

You always feel safe when Yoongi is around and that was something you didn't realize until today.

Not wanting to bother him, you rolled over in your bed and gave yourself a 10 minute snooze before giving up the fact that your body is screaming to wake up because there’s a better view than your dreams in your kitchen right now.

You made the bed and showered, took out the rest of his clothes from the dryer and tumble dry your hair with the face towel you found. You put on a lazy bun and an oversized thin tee that goes over your knees with short shorts. And that’s how Yoongi saw you. You noticed the slight stare but knowing Yoongi the way he is, he would not let himself get caught. Sure, you look a little different from the way you dress up at work. Underneath the hideous blue clean-room attires you had to wear in the factory, you could be wearing your best blouse but no one would notice. You had enough flesh showing for Yoongi to know those thighs are soft and supple.

“I can eat without you right?” you shouted from the kitchen.

Yoongi smiled to himself as he put on his shirt. Then he lets his curiosity get the better of him when he opens your wardrobe and his eyes twinkle. He entered the kitchen, (now cleaned by you) with your ‘A Thousand Wishes’ Bath & Body Works’ fine fragrance mist, he pulled out the chair like he owns the house, knees spread, peeling a tangerine he found in the fridge earlier.

“Are you wearing my perfume, Yoongi?” “Of course not.”

You furrowed your brow in disbelief, “Don’t lie.” “Then don’t ask,” he threw a straight smile, “I don’t leave the house without colognes. Ever think of getting a Dior Sauvage to liven up the lie that you’re not single? You already got the PJs.”

“You’re mocking me and I can’t cuss you because you made breakfast,” you mumbled to your plate. “It’s a mean good breakfast too,” he tips his head back, sighing through shut eyes. Because if you were his, and this is not pretend, he’d have you on the table as his own breakfast. But he can’t. Because he has morals.

With the dirty dishes in the sink, you collected your car key and headed to the door before Yoongi hooked your baggy t-shirt asking menacingly, “Where the fuck are you going looking like that?”

“To the hospital to drop you off?” you scowled at him, who was towering over you.

“Get trousers, and a jacket. Long trousers,” he added while you pushed him away and climbed into the car despite his protests. To add fuel into the fire, you showed him your middle finger.

“Sure, people would leave the hospital cured of heart attacks and go back right in when they see you,” he grumbled under his breath. His corrupted thoughts would have been to leave your thighs covered in hickeys and love bites so you’ll have to cover them up. But let’s take things slow, for now.

Yoongi exits the Mazda and lifts his arm to say goodbye.

The dreaded Monday arrived.

“What do you think of me getting a tattoo?” you rolled your chair next to Seokjin’s, talking in whispers. “I think you’re full of shit undergoing an existential crisis,” Seokjin replied, also in a whisper.

“No?” you asked softly, as a reaffirmation. He shakes his head, “You wouldn’t last two minutes within the first stroke of a tattoo needle and I say with utmost confidence and your worst nightmare is walking through the door with a questionable look,” he tips his chin towards the entrance.

“For the umptenth time this morning Taehyung, the room isn’t ready for the task force,” you rolled your eyes and spun your chair around while you held your pen between the index finger and thumb. “Well hurry them up, I’ve got a gazillion things to do,” Taehyung marches to your desk, hovering menacingly above you and you fight the stare with your own glares.

“Look around, Mr. QA,” you challenged him, “We all are.” “Your machine specialist in-charge agrees with me,” Taehyung tipped his head to the side. Seokjin passes a look on you and then on Taehyung before returning to you.

“Sure, let me ask the production executive in-charge of the machine if he could hurry up— “ you turned to Seokjin. “ — No,” Seokjin replies instantly, “Look, the manager has me by the neck and if I don’t finish these batches by today, I might as well be hung. The shipment is in 3 days and we’re barely 3 barrels in. You guys will have to stay the night, sorry.”

“No task force should be done outside of the working hours,” Taehyung announced. “Says who?” you and Seokjin frowned. “The Quality Assurance S.O.Ps, Task Force Management under the Material Validation clause six,” Taehyung straightens and crosses his arm smugly.

“That’s got to be a lie because there is no way that that was accurate,” you knitted your brows together staring down at the pompous lad, challenging you with his eyes alone. Paired with Seokjin’s frantic typing, you know that your comrade is searching for that specific clause Taehyung just casually mentioned. His heaving defeated sighs gave you an instant headache as you held your stare at Taehyung.

“I’ll give you 4pm, half an hour,” Seokjin resigned. “Half an hour?!” you and some other grumbling voice came behind you. It was Yoongi.

He came wiping his hands off the lubricant with a dirty rag. His work boots stomps the floor with every lunge. He was in his dark blue jumper with its sleeves folded up his elbows, wearing a frustrated frown on his face as he zeroes into your desk. What’s with all these men surrounding your table? “And that’s me being generous,” Seokjin’s obviously frightened eyes flickered to yours.

“Hold on—” you raised your finger before Yoongi hijacked the protest. “ — I need at least 2 hours to properly prepare the machine’s minimum and maximum’s temperature, 30 minutes is not going to cut it. You should at least give us a, a… what do you call that,” he snaps his fingers. “Probationary period,” you finished his sentence for him.

Seokjin took off his earphones and stood up from his chair, “Well, they call you ‘The Machine’s Machine’, for a reason, right?” He leaves— or should you rephrase, sprint from the scene.

“That’s manipulative as hell—” you retorted. The comment had Yoongi chuckling through his nose and begrudgingly say to you, “You think I couldn’t do it?” “Wait a sec, I thought we’re on the same team here…” You tipped your head looking up at him and he swung your chair by the arm rest to face him, he leaned over above you, and he said, “You don’t know a challenge when you see one.”

The sudden change of attitude perplexed you. With Taehyung positively sneering on your side, you watch Yoongi’s back get smaller and smaller as he enters the tool room. He kneels by the cabinet and you could see him taking out the parts he needed for the current batch that is in production. Atenolol unit boxes are relatively smaller than paracetamols, hence, the changing of the parts was required. With it, Yoongi carries his own toolbox with everything he needs to tighten and loosen the bolts. He is once again underneath the machine. He is quite at home there, considering the 4500 kilogram metallic carcass was a one-way ticket to afterlife should any of its leg snaps.

The screws rattle beside him as he reaches for a new one. Carefully, he twists them into place and with the aid of a wrench, it is tightened. He slid just his head out the machine to pay a meaningless glance at you only to see you craning your head over your desk, with your right hand behind your neck — massaging yourself. Then it falls to your shoulder, he could see you squeeze them like you would a sponge. Must have been another machine specialist’s issue. He heard from Felix that the old geezer, simply known as Gangster; had refused to change his parts, resulting in the levers folding the unitbox to crush the unitbox as it was folding it.

The complication of that refusal? 350 unit boxes were torn, unusable as it was damaging the tablets inside the foil. Those 350 unit boxes will not go unnoticed by the QA and who has to answer that? You. Everyone will be pissed. The material manager will argue that they have given the required unitbox as required by the production and refuse to issue more because according to them, they have done their job. Production manager will ask the executive why unitbox were not enough and the executives will answer, “Because it was torn.” Then, “Why is it torn? And how many? Were you not supervising the production? Why do your machine specialists not listen to you? Are you not a good leader?”

The thing about Gangster is that, as the name implies, he doesn’t listen to others. Especially you. You were somewhat new, inexperienced, and on top of all that, a woman. In a small town like this, misogyny is still regarded as the masculine way, and acceptable one. Yoongi doesn’t talk to Gangster for personal reasons. But what he didn’t like was that Gangster was giving you stress. It will give you a bad face. And you are a good leader, the best — he argued in his head. Gangster was just being a dick like he always is. Knowing you, you would carry on with the task force like you aren’t dealing with a huge asshole like Gangster.

Taehyung hasn’t arrived. You walked into the machine room with Yoongi preparing the machine to run. He had to unload the working batch, label them, time the production and make sure the materials for the task force brought in were the correct ones and in the right amount in the trolley. It was 2 pieces of PVC roll and 3 aluminum foil rolls. Each has different thickness, different polymeric composition for different purposes. You walked in yawning, with your notebook in hand and a pen.

“The materials are here?” you asked him. He eyed the trolley. “Goodness me, and we only have 30 minutes,” you squatted down by the trolley and checked each of the materials with the checklist emailed to you by your boss. After all of it checks out, you turn over your shoulder at Yoongi, “Shall we begin playing?”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Taehyung?” Yoongi asks, as he knelt by the trolley and unwrapped the first PVC and aluminum foil. “Nah, he would just be bored waiting for the sealing part. If we wait for him, we will have less than 30 minutes to run, I say run,” you explained calmly.

Yoongi did as told. He loads the foil and the PVC into the machine, then he moves expertly to the navigator. He pulls the sheet into the loader and collects in as much length he needs for it to fuse to the foil and stamped together using the heat pad. You instructed him to use the known sealing temperature for the machine. The blisters came out with their pockets a little soft. Yoongi knows that the machine has issues on the cooling pads, so he checks on that.

“The maintenance said they changed the pads, didn't they?” you asked. “Maintenance says a lot of shit they didn’t do,” Yoongi grumbled, he tweaked the cooling pad and pinched the cloth they placed there. He grabs the cloth and places it on your hand. “That’s way too warm for cooling, the pockets wouldn’t be able to form properly,” you realized, “Let me contact the maintenance… this can’t go on like this.”

Yoongi grabs your phone and ends the call you made, immediately.

“The fuck, Min Yoongi,” you cussed. “Wasting time, I can fix it,” Yoongi retorted semi-harshly. “That’s not in the protocol—” you darted. “Your ass has already been dragged by Gangster with a 350 damaged unit box, you want to call the maintenance for something production machine specialists’ can fix?! Do you not have any pride?!” Yoongi shot back loud, “Fuck the protocol! They’re already questioning your authority, leadership, so I suggest that you sit your pretty ass down and let me handle this shit.”

Taehyung walks in whistling like he didn’t just miss a third world war that just happened. You were not going to lie, your eyes were prickling when Yoongi shouted at you like that so you sat in silence a few minutes before Taehyung arrived, oblivious to it all. Yoongi knows that he’ll need the temperature raised in 10 degree increment and prepare 100 samples of those blisters with each the materials, so altogether, Taehyung will carry about 500-1000 sample blisters to examine but after it is carried out, Taehyung will have to hand them to you again so your manager can have a look.

Yoongi ran a leak test on each 10 blisters and he only gave them to you to examine. Because like it or not, you’re still his boss.

“The minimal optimum temperature would be around 125 degrees,” Taehyung declared, “Now for the maximal temperature?” “Can’t really say for sure, there’s knurling on the embossing area and the batch numbers are not clear, I don’t like it,” you spat, “Must be the sealing pads.”

“The knurling occurs at whatever temperature it was on,” Yoongi darts, “It has nothing to do with the sealing pads, it works fine on the first two materials.” “Increase the temperature and cool it at minimum temp,” Taehyung shrugs at Yoongi then you. “Not possible,” you said, “It’ll melt the tablet, do you not study anything in pharmacy school Taehyung? I’m genuinely surprised that you, a know-it-all, would make such an amateur mistake. First of all, the heat will melt the tablet, second, it will melt the tablet into the PVC, stamped into the surface, which bionically means you can’t even eject the tablet from the blisters.”

“No need to get all technical with it, there’s a reason why I’m a production pharmacist, not a production executive,” Taehyung sassed. He just can’t be told he’s wrong, can he?

“Yes, we need to get technical with it because we’re not fabric shopping, we’re producing tablets in blisters, we need to get a good materials for long-term shipment, Kim Taehyung,” you wrote down your findings in the paper you brought in and then examined the blisters Yoongi passed you.

“Maximum production per minute? At 320 speed?” you asked Yoongi without looking at him. “147 degree celsius forming, 240 degrees sealing,” Yoongi snapped.

“When did you assign that temperature, I’ve just only asked you?” you looked at him quizzically. “A while ago when you’re arguing with QA here,” Yoongi blinked to the side.

You scoffed. Unbelievable. Yoongi just snatched the timeline protocol without your permission. That is he had moved to the next item on the trial list when you were not ready for it. And by doing so, beats the whole ‘under executive supervision’ clause. And also you wanted to play boss for a bit for the shit he said unwarranted.

“There’s protocol Yoongi. Follow the damn protocol, the protocol is good… It’s there to be adhered to,” you scolded him, “Do it.” “I’ve just handed you the blisters formed from that specifications,” he raised his voice a little, pointing his hand towards the bunched up blisters on your desk. “I didn’t see you set the machine, fucking do it again,” you grinded your jaws at him.

Yoongi wanted to protest. But he knows if he does, he would just be in more shit. You wanted to show him who was in-charge and because Taehyung was on your level, Yoongi gets the blunt end. It’s a dirty, and quite prideful move from your side. It shows that you could play the boss-card when you want and there is nothing he could do about it.

Taehyung’s eyes moved from you to your staff. The machine begins to move, but it gradually turns erratic and soon after, belts unreel at impossible speed before it turns into loud poundings. You slammed the stop button in panic. Yoongi swallowed curses. He grabs the foil with his bare hands, risking it to be reeled into the rotating cylinder —  which then earned a glare from you. That was definitely not in the protocol.

“Idiot,” Taehyung scoffed and chuckled through his nose. He eyed Yoongi up and down as the machine specialist knelt by the machine hugging the foil. “He’ll lose a finger before he gets to be in the advanced engineering diploma you enrolled him in,” Taehyung leered his eyes to Yoongi while speaking to you. Then he drags his eyes up to you and says begrudgingly, “Glad he has his crazy boss to back him up, huh?” Taehyung winks at you as if he knew a secret he could use to blackmail you.

“How he is selected is beyond me,” Taehyung pushes the door and sends himself out.

Yoongi storms out the revolving door and you jogged after him.

“Did I ask you to put my name in that list? I can’t recall that I did. What gives you the authority to decide what I should do with my career? I never asked anything from you!” Yoongi growled, knowing fully well you were behind him.

“No, you don’t understand,” Yoongi growls. The others, his heart echoed.

“Listen— I can explain! Just,” you sprinted to be in front of him and held his upper arms with both your hands to stop him from moving away, then you clasped your hands together in a prayer to say, “I only did it because your talents would be wasted if you stay in this comfort zone. I’ve,” Yoongi begins to move again and you scramble after him. Your lanyard flying at every strike of wind.

“I’ve seen what you could do!” Those words eventually stopped Yoongi in his tracks.

He tips his head back and relaxes his shoulders. You rushed to his side. He was only a few lunges away from the gates.

“I’ve seen those calculations, the drawings, the blueprints at your home. You are made for this. Calculus would be easy for you. You know the machines like they’re in the back of your hand. This diploma will propel you further, you can have bigger jobs, bigger salary, outside this village town, Yoongi!” you stressed the words as needed.

“You can teach those engineering dimwits what you know of problem solvings and they’ll have to believe you because you have credentials for it,” your eyes twinkled, “They’ll not turn you away anymore.”

Your words stayed with him into the night. Not only did you just exercise your authority over him just minutes before admitting he had the talent for engineering. You were such an enigma that Yoongi was convinced that if he tried as much as to understand you, he would be back at square one. To be fucking honest, he doesn’t believe he was that big of a deal. Really, everything is logical thinking. Every problem solving begins with noticing that there is a problem and zeroing in on the problem and what causes it. Nothing remotely intricate.

On a whim, he took his phone while laying down and went to his whatsapp stories. And out of curiosity, he tapped on your stories. You took a shot of your messy desk and you wrote the caption, ‘I thought I did the right thing. At least at the time, I thought it was’ and it got Yoongi thinking if it was regarding him and his recent lash out. It was almost 11 pm and you’re still at work. He thought of replying but he didn’t want to seem nosey — because it looks like he is stalking his boss through her whatsapp story when he should be asleep. Not a moment later, you uploaded another story, and this time it’s a video. Upon playing the video, Yoongi sat up from his slumber.

He types.

Yoongi [10:58 PM]: What’s going on?

You were typing…

You [10:58 PM]: the gear is locked, can’t move it from P to D or any gears really You [10:59 PM]: What do I do??

Yoongi is typing…

Yoongi [10:59 PM]: Is anyone around? Have you tried releasing the brakes properly? You [11:00 PM]: Am I that much of an idiot that I don’t know how to release brakes properly? You[11:00 PM]: Is that why people challenged my authority? Bc I’m humanly incapable? Bc I’m a woman?

Yoongi grits his teeth together. Yoongi is typing…

Yoongi [11:01 PM]: no, it could be one of the reasons why.

Yoongi is video-calling…

You placed your phone on the holder as you answered.

“Didn’t think you’d answer,” his voice sounds muffled through the phone speaker. “Oh sorry, my bad,” you reached to end the call but Yoongi frantically tells you no. He was laying down his navy blue silk pillow comfortably while you’re still in your work attire trying to get home. “The brakes, release the brakes,” Yoongi instructed. “I released them!” You groaned, pressing on the pads and hearing the hydraulics move. “Sometimes when brakes aren’t released fully, the gear locks,” Yoongi explains.

You pushed the brake pad fully to the floor and released them. Then you tried moving the gears. It moved.

“You’re welcome,” Yoongi rolled his eyes to the side. “Thanks,” you mumbled to your chest, “I was writing the task force report and time flew.” “Was it,” Yoongi made it sound like a rhetorical question, with no intention of listening to the answers whatsoever, “What did you say; people were challenging your authority because you’re a woman, yada yada yada? Is that why you stayed five hours past your working hours? To prove authority?”

“I answered your call because you’re pretty good at car stuff and now you’re progressing to something downright annoying, and for that, goodbye— “ you smiled begrudgingly at the phone at Yoongi and he was chuckling with crinkles forming around his eyes that it froze you.

“What’s with the whatsapp story posted 2 hours ago?” he asked. “Which one?” you lied.

“The ‘I thought I did the right thing. At least at the time, I thought it was’ story.”

Honestly, it was about choosing the house you wanted to buy. You know this will not end well and it feels dishonest from the beginning; because at the beginning you wouldn’t think you would know Yoongi as much as a person as you do now. But a part of you wasn't able to give it up just yet; wanting to push the envelope further more — and you probably didn’t matter much to Yoongi anyways. In fact, he might be all in agreement if he knew. Then he met your cousin, your cousin’s husband, was in your house, was in bed with you, used your showers, saw your room, cooked for you, drove for you. And all of a sudden, it feels a little too much. Just one last thing you need from him.

“Nah, it was about getting a job here,” your eyes flicker to the view outside your parked car, lying. Yoongi rested his head on his palm, listening to you talk. “I always feel unequipped,” you begin. “Drive as you talk,” he reminded you. It will be too late if you talk while you’re parked.

“I stayed here after intern because I thought I wasn’t learning enough,” you said, the steering wheel smoothly turns at corners, “I don’t know about the machines and you were being an ass,” you shot lasers through your eyes at him, “You continue to be an ass and I still remember the instances you hijacked my thumbprint clock-in and made me late to a meeting, I still fucking hated you for that.”

“Is it my fault that you have short legs?” he mocks. “Asshole,” you shot and, “And when you told; no, yelled at me about my authority and how Gangster disrespected me, it made me question my whole position here. I take a lot of shit on a daily basis from all departments, from my own manager and also from my subordinates.” You blinked to the road ahead, almost forgetting that Yoongi was there listening — it feels like a therapy session.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you shrugged, staring blankly ahead. “No one wants to do a job, boss,” Yoongi huffs, now laying on his side, “Everybody needs the job to get the pay. To buy food, to live.” You arrived at your house and reclined in your seat.

“We don’t  work because we like it. We work because we need to,” Yoongi’s words slurred, as that was his way of speaking. He scratches his elbow and the dragon tattoo coiling makes it apparent to you that maybe, just maybe, he was staying strong just like you are, just by different means. “What if I get a tattoo?” you chirped, having a sudden jolt of energy. Sparkles in your eyes. “Go to bed, go to sleep. You’re not thinking straight,” Yoongi fake yawned through the screen and his thumb hovered over the end button. “ — why are you so against me getting a tattoo?” you whine and the screen goes black.

Yoongi rests the phone, face down on his chest between his pecs. He sighs staring blankly ahead to the ceiling of his room, then he turns to the side where his blueprints were wondering if he could really dream and have hope again. The tumultuous upbringing; is it finally over? Can he finally live the way he wanted?

He recaps your whimsical out-of-the-blue idea, “Why are you so against me getting a tattoo?” and he takes another pillow over his head, sandwiching himself in between them, “Because it's painful, why would you want to go through such pain,” he whispered to the silence in his room.

It must have been a little over midnight when the heat of the blanket chased him away. He stepped outside the wooden house, took out a cigarette and lit them up. He covers the flame over his hand and lets the embers catch the cigarette end. His cheeks hollowed as he took one lungful of nicotine in as if he needed it to live. He shudders in the cold of night, blowing smoke through his nostrils while he dug his hand into the front pocket of his hoodie. He grabs his phone and walks to the neighborhood 24 hours convenience store. At the store, he paid for an ice-cream stick and two bottles of soju.

His heavily inked arms are on wide display when he gets home after he has taken off his hoodie. He had a tank top on, the one with a large armhole that shows his ribs. He sits on the edge of the patio looking intently at the moon hidden behind clouds of gray. He remembers a time where he was sitting like this, looking at the same moon but how times have changed since then. Drinking would help him sleep, he said to himself. For some reason, after the phone call with you, he was unable to get a shut eye.

How strange. How strange indeed.

Seokjin had been avoiding you for a good portion of the morning, possibly feeling bad about the task force thing. He had been locking himself in the tool room with his laptop for the same meeting you’re attending. Pushing the glass door, you tapped his shoulder twice. He jumps.

“We’re going to keep meeting on the production floor, Seokjin. I’m not sure why you’re acting the way you are,” you scolded him calmly. “Acting how?” he feigned obliviousness.

“Seriously,” you crossed your arm looking down at him, leaning your hips on the stainless table, “The task force is done within the time frame you allocated and I’m actually proud of you setting your boundaries to keep your job; and actually fighting for yourself. Congratulations, you’ve completed your training against Kim Taehyung,” you told him. Seokjin smiles until crinkles form in the corner of his eyes.

“Speaking of, how was he?” Seokjin chuckles, asking in regards to Taehyung. “Quite well-behaved. Schooled him for his whimsical problem solving skill, you know how he is telling others wrong, but he slipped up yesterday so I didn’t hold back. Yoongi heard everything,” you flickered your eyes to his laptop screen which was split into two tabs. One, had the email typed and the other, the video conference. “I heard about Yoongi. You enrolled him in the engineering diploma,” Seokjin glides his eyes to you, “How did he take that?” “Not well at first,” you shrugged.

Seokjin nodded as if he expected that.

“Where is he today though,” you looked through the glass walls to see the machine specialist in-charge trying to identify where Yoongi was. “He took half-day off, had me sign it yesterday around noon,” Seokjin studies your face, “He didn’t tell you?”

That means he’ll be in at 3pm when you’re having lunch. You had books for him to study in preparation for the advanced diploma and a new scientific calculator, then some stationery he might need. You have it all in your locker situated just below his. It was around 2.30pm when you left the production floor to the common area. You took the food you ordered through delivery. Untying the bag, you realized that the restaurant had forgotten to give you cutlery. There is a spoon in your locker so you were heading there when you saw someone in black suits and white dress shirt, his eagle wing neck tattoo peeking through.

“Yoongi?” you called, “Wow you look… different.”

He looks dashing and formal suits on tattoos is a view you could never get used to because of how contradicting it is and yet, here it was, in flesh, worn by Yoongi.

“Had a funeral,” he mumbled, as he twisted his wrist watch around to take them off. His lips parted as he took off the black blazers and unbuttoned his dress shirt with one hand.

“Oh I’m so sorry,” you tipped your eyes away thinking he wouldn’t be comfortable undressing with you there. You unlocked your locker and took out the spoon you were wanting to take from your locker. Yoongi tutted his tongue at ease, having nothing to reply to your condolence wishes. He took off his trousers, leaving on his knee-length boxers and slipped on his right leg into the right leg hole of his jumper then the left. You hurried to leave before he asks,

“What’s for lunch?” “Spaghetti meatballs.” “Want coffee?” “Are you buying?”

He nods as he puts his right arm into the sleeves of the jumper.

“Look at you,” he chuckled dryly, “Can’t even look at me straight in the eye.” “I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to do so,” you warned him. “You’ve seen everything,” he zips up halfway through his chest, “Not sure why you would think so.” “Uh, we’re at work and I’m your boss, you could sue me,” you walked away from the locker followed by him.

He brought two paper cups of coffee from the vending machine, sitting across from you.

“Want to play a little game?” you slurped your spaghetti. “I have to get to work at 3pm,” he pinches the meatballs in your plate and shoves them in his mouth whole. “The price for that meatball is a game,” you pinched his forearm but he didn’t respond more than a scrunched face.

“I spy with my little eye, something brown,” you swirled the spaghetti with your spoon with much trouble. Noticing that, Yoongi takes out a chopstick from his pocket which was coincidently brown as well. “Chopsticks?” he asked.

You shake your head, “I spy with my little eye something thick,” you offered the second clue.

Yoongi’s expression turned sultry and you slapped his thigh, “What else is thick?” he protested, groaning at the pain. His teeth clamp over his lower lips.

“Use your brain,” you scolded, “Look left, further left.”

Then he saw a stack of thick books, a calculator and some stationery. His veiny hand coax the books closer then he placed them next to the paper cups, looking at each one intently. He ran through the pages in a flash. You saw him momentarily pause as if he had never held a book before.

“You look like you’ve never held one,” you giggled. “I’ve never held a new one bought for me,” he said without missing a beat.

Bernoulli’s. Hydraulic Theory. Pascals.

Your heart sank. You pictured young Yoongi pacing the bookstores wondering if the owners’ realize he had been memorizing books. You picture him sneaking books from the libraries into his bag to take home because he lost his library card. He eyed the book as if it would disappear from him, held on them so tight.

“They’re yours,” you cleared your throat. Yoongi lifts his gaze to you as if to ask how much they were so he could pay you back. “The company provides them to everyone listed in the advanced diploma acceptance list, I only collected them for you because you weren’t here in the morning,” you explained. He smiled briefly at the books, ran his palm over the brown calculator.

Seokjin whistled from the HR entrance calling you in. In responding to the urgent call, you had left behind your phone on the table under Yoongi’s care. There was an unsaved number calling. Yoongi swung his head to you who had your head inside the door while Seokjin held them open in somewhat of an intense discussion that won’t end soon. Thinking that it might be your online shopping courier, Yoongi swiped the answer button.

“Hello? Daughter?” Yoongi frowned at the screen at the obvious unsaved number. Did this girl not save her mother’s number? He placed them to his ear again, straightening in his seat covering his knee with his palm.

“Sorry, Madam. She’s in the middle of a meeting, I’ll let her know you called,” Yoongi politely said. “Hold on, is this the white-haired guy she sends her car to?” your mother recalled.

So you told your mother about him. He assumed.

“This is he, yes,” Yoongi swallowed a gulp of spit, already standing from his seat and making his way to you before he revealed more than he should. “Oh this is good news! Darling,” she refers to Yoongi, “Since you can tell her about it later, I should just tell you. There’s a baby-shower for Dr. Lisa at the end of month, you could come with my daughter if you’d like, we’ll prepare the accommodations for you. We would love to finally meet you. You’ll come okay? Okay. Okay bye,” the call ends without Yoongi able to reply.

You saw him in a state of shock.

“What?” “I thought it could be your courier so I answered it.”

Snatching your phone from his large hand, you realized that he had a conversation with your mother.

“Why didn’t you save your mother’s phone number?” he grabs the back of his hair with his hands, “I wouldn’t answer if I knew…” “What did she say?” you shoved your phone in your pocket.

“About a baby shower? Dr. Lisa’s?” Yoongi crumpled his face in worry. “Ugh, that was what I was avoiding,” you pinched your temples between your palms, “What else did she say? Why did you look like that?” “She says she wants to see me and wants me to come to the baby shower as well, she prepares the accommodation,” Yoongi breathed out, “And you introduce me as the white-haired guy you send your car to?”

“I didn’t, my mom’s a psycho. She zooms in a picture I took when I was at Jungkook’s mechanic and it happened to have your reflection and she assumes that we’re together, together,” you explained. “And you didn’t say— ?” Yoongi stammered. “No matter what I’ll say she’ll assume whatever she wants, and she was going to make me marry a complete stranger who gives me the creep so no, I didn’t say no. I didn’t think about it. It was a quick, harmless solution. She’ll shut up about the matchmaking and I get my peace by pretending I already have a boyfriend,” you sighed loudly, “Sorry you had to find out this way. This makes things weird right?”

Hearing nothing from Yoongi's side, you decided that you would come up with an excuse for him to not attend but for some reason, Yoongi protested it. He was going to the baby shower. In your hometown. About 200 miles away. Near a long stretch of sandy beaches.

“I prepared some engineering notes I made in university, I thought if I could teach you the theories you could teach me the hands -on,” you changed the topic, “The engineering theories can be confusing especially the principles part — I’ve simplified what I could, if you come over my house, you can have—,” you let your sentence trail.

“Come over whose house?” Seokjin darts his eyes, coming out of the HR doors.

“To fix the heater,” Yoongi spat out, “Her house, the boss’s house.”

You let out a thin smile, “Yeah the heater, the one that is always busted… I have Yoongi to fix them once and for all because I simply could not stand it. Summer is ending and autumn is coming. I’d like them fixed before winter.”

“Are you guys…” Seokjin eyed you both suspiciously.

“I need to feed my cats—” you headed to the locker while Yoongi came up with “I need to study the skies. Very clear today.”

Not sure why you were uncomfortable with everyone at work knowing about you and Yoongi. Maybe it had something to do with what Yoongi said. About you being his boss and all and how it would all look strange. Like he was sucking up to his boss to get a promotion. It really looks like it.

After word of Yoongi being selected for the advanced engineering diploma, other machine specialists started to shun him. He went to the usual bar the night after his night shift ended, and he found the other specialists had gone in groups and didn’t invite him. He stepped out as quickly as he stepped in. Some of the specialists in that group had worked for decades in that company and not once were listed in any semblance of increment — whether it was wages or allowances. Obviously, from their point of view, they think they have done a lot and in their eyes, Yoongi had his butt cheeks out for the lady boss and therefore had better chances of a promotion.

It didn’t look good.

“Hyung!” Yoongi spun around to see who it was and it was Felix, jogging down the slope of the side road in his bomber’s jacket. His platinum hair illuminated by the street light, fluffed by the strong wind tonight. Yoongi took out the unlit cigarette from the corner of his lips and stopped in his tracks.

“I wanted to invite you but,” Felix matches his steps with Yoongi’s. Standing 3 centimeters short from Yoongi, the younger lad’s deep groveling voice was unique to him.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Yoongi tutted his tongue and hung his head down as he walked, slowing in his steps.

“Is it true?” Felix glanced at Yoongi briefly. “What is?” Yoongi shot back. “That you fucked the boss and got into the acceptance list?”

Yoongi’s converse halted in its steps. Felix was several steps ahead of him. The younger lad turned his body sideways then lifted his gaze from the floor to Yoongi in the most nonchalant manner, and he adds, “That’s what the hyungs were saying. It came from the QA who said the guards saw you both got into the same car and drove off.”

Yoongi chuckles darkly.

“Bastards,” Yoongi cussed, “You already decided that. Got the stories all lined up at your convenience.”

There are two ways this could go; (1) Yoongi can hold Felix in a chokehold and make the boy piss in his pants but risk the rumor to go bigger than it is or (2) he could play nonchalant until he had found out what you wanted. Because at this time, Yoongi, in his level of understanding, was more than a friend but less than a lover. Furthermore, he wasn’t sure if that was what you wanted — to be associated with a mere machine specialist like him. Felix’s brown irises flicker in the moonlight as he waits for the answers from Yoongi.

“You’re a smart boy, Felix. Have a brain, use it. Tell them what it looks like.”

Your eyes pierced through your PC screen. Your blanket pools around your waist as your face was lit by the movie played on the screen. The rest of your room is dark. You don’t remember half of the plot in the movie. You’ve changed your movie 3 times so the plot is all mixed up. When you catch yourself drifting, you switch the movies — even the platform. For some reason, what Seokjin told you kept on repeating itself in your head.

Maybe because you were frightened. Terrified if his assumption is true. And how it will implicate Yoongi. Clearly you haven’t thought of this clearly. Taehyung should have kept the list a secret. Why did he stir it up?

Taehyung’s only desire in his daily job is to create mayhem on the production floor. But this could easily become detrimental.

Seokjin, in his words, clearly stated, “Not everyone at work is a friend. Some can switch up as quickly as the sky turns gray when it comes to money and power.”

What if your pure intentions were seen to others as cruel biasness? What if the one thing catapulting Yoongi into success is the same thing that will hurt him? . . . . A punch flew across his face. And another. And another. And another.

Two people wearing a black mask were holding each arm, and Yoongi was kneeling on the ground. One grabbed him by the hair and yanked them back till his throats were on display.

“See if the boss still loves his busted face. Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”

Yoongi’s limp body was pushed faced down to the cold tar road by the dark alley a few streets away from his house.

He looked beautiful with his face all messed up, blood running down his cheek and chin. They trail down the slope of the road. His pearl white teeth tainted with traces of the blow he endured. His knuckles busted, knees scraped, laceration down his tattooed arm. He loved it— the pain, the thrill of it all. It made him smile— because if feeling nothing is his curse, he has finally broke it. The perpetrators took a flash of his face, took a picture of him laying face down, ass up. They took a piss on him.

“You should have stayed hood, brother.” They threw a cigarette bud on him and left him laying there, snuffing his aching chest. When Yoongi was sure they were gone and had stopped beating him up, he rolled to his back, clutching his left rib then his left arm. He helps himself up, spitting out the blood pooling in his mouth. He stopped by a corner and vomited every content he had consumed in his stomach. His walks were wobbly, almost aimless from the dizziness he endured. Hitting his head on the concrete repeatedly is not fun. It’s been awhile since he had felt that.

He waves to the incoming taxi by the street.

He groans in pain as he climbs in the back of the silver sedan, evoking a concern to the driver. He passes a pair of unease eyes through the rearview mirror at  Yoongi’s flaccid body wondering if he should make a turn to the districts’ police station. Instead, Yoongi directed him to a suburban neighborhood with a small 24-hour clinic.

“Perhaps the clinic or hospital?” the driver suggested, “You look like you’ll need some X-rays done.” “No, no, just take a left at this junction here,” Yoongi hisses, swallowing yet another blood-tasting saliva.

You saw a pair of headlights shining through your bedroom curtains. In a hurry, you took out your cardigan and walked out to the living room where you saw a taxi. As you pushed the grill away, you saw a figure crouching out of the taxi and from the knuckle tattoo, you knew who it was but you don’t know why he was here.

You took your phone and paid for his ride via QR pay. Then you lunged his arm over your smaller frame of a body and brought him inside the house.

“What the hell happened to you? You’re supposed to be at the hospital, or the police station, why the hell are you here?” you lay him on the floor of your rented house, so he leans his back on the wall.

“I came to see if you’re okay,” you heard him say through gritted teeth. You hardly even recognise him from his busted face.

“Who did this to you?” you reached for your phone, lasering down the state of him. Yoongi starts coughing, small droplets of blood splattering on the white tiles. He didn’t answer. He just begins taking off his leather jacket. His black t-shirt is torn from his right collarbone to just underneath his left breast.

“This is about the advanced engineering diploma list, isn’t it?” you knelt next to him. He presses his index finger to his puckered lips, hushing you — shaking his head and wearing a gentle smile.

“... Don’t worry, the pain will pass,” he was calm and oddly at home in his state. His bloodied state. You were on the verge of crying seeing him like that. This is someone you know, someone whose future you cared about. Bringing him a wet towel, you wring the excess warm water from the towel and wipe down his face and chin, the blood stains had dried and flaked themselves on his skin. In time, the clear waters turn burgundy.

“I didn’t know it…” you choked, “I didn’t know it would…” Yoongi laid the back of his head on the wall, turning slightly to the left then right.

“You’re so gullible,” he glued his eyes on you as tears were rolling down your face, “Not sure if that’s a curse or a blessing.”

“I’m taking you to the panel hospital tomorrow, and I’ll have the manager sign your week off. I will not tell anyone what happened, I’ll let you decide what you want done to those perpetrators,” you declared, wringing the towel one last time, “Once I find out their names, I will have them on my chokehold.”

Yoongi straightens in his seat, “Then you shall never find out.”

“You were beaten to a pulp and you limped your way to my house to check if I was okay — that’s very telling who they were. They work where we work. It is as clear as day.”

“Don’t do anything.”

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Copyright © July 23rd, 2022 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading :)

[cheollipop]

lovesick

navi | taglist

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

w.c.: 2.6k

tags: smut, fluff, san is in LOVE

back-to-back schedules meant san barely had any time to eat, let alone see you. after feeling your skin against his for the first time in weeks, he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

warnings: a smidge of plot, softest dom!san, high stamina!san (like crazy high), praise, dry humping, cunnilingus, face sitting, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), multiple orgasms, creampie, breeding/impregnation kink, overstimulation, nicknames (sannie; baby, pretty, love, darling...), dirty talk, aftercare

A/N: this is dedicated to @toxicccred <33 I have not been able to stop thinking about lovesick sannie since we last talked about it, so I really hope you enjoy this! ^^ no but seriously, this had me feeling some typa way. the delulu came out for this one oof...

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

I'll be home soon.

11:38pm, read the timestamp.

You eyed the clock on the wall across from you, the small arrow pointing to three. San was late at practice, and you struggled to keep your eyes open to greet him when he eventually walked through the front door. You hadn't seen him in over two weeks, his schedule packed with his new comeback coming up.

Lying down on the couch, your body succumbed to its exhaustion.

You startled awake, unaware that you had fallen asleep in the first place, when they front door clicked shut, making out a blurry San toeing off his shoes. He noticed your figure – half-sitting down on the soft cushions, eyes squinting to make him out in the dark room – and gave you an apologetic smile, a whispered sorry breaking through the silence. You got up, walking towards him and wrapping your arms around his figure without saying a word. He quickly reciprocated, engulfing you in his warmth and eagerly fisting his hands in your shirt, drawing you closer to him. You inhaled the scent of an unfamiliar body wash, his wet strands an indicator of the shower he took before coming to you.

"I've missed you, Sannie," you mumbled against the warm skin of his neck while he peppered the side of your face with soft kisses.

"Me too," he muttered between presses of his lips against every patch of skin available to him. "So much." He cupped your cheeks, moving your face back to admire it with fond eyes. "But I'm here now."

San pressed his lips to yours, your head jerking backwards at the momentum. He pulled away just as quickly, bringing you closer to his body again, nuzzling his nose into your hair. Your chests were flush together, rising and falling at the same rate. You placed a line of kisses over his exposed collarbone, your palms rubbing comforting circles over San's back, scratching at the skin and eliciting pleasant hums from the man.

You felt something begin to poke at your hip and you pulled away slightly to look down. Your cheeks flushed at the sight of the forming tent in San's sweatpants making a bridge between your bodies. You looked up at him, eyes still bleary with sleep.

"San?"

His cheeks were coated with a bright red, eyes looking anywhere and everywhere but you, nervously fiddling his fingers at his waist.

"I just- I missed you s-so much," his pout muffled his words, his gaze flitting over to you before stepping closer and burying his face into the crook of your neck. "I-I couldn't help it, I'm sorry."

His hips slowly rolled against your hipbone – perhaps involuntarily – and you could feel the familiar tingle of arousal rushing through your body. You grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to pull him away to look at his face, but he didn't budge, the rate at which his hips were moving now relentless while he panted against your ear.

"San, let me-"

"Please, (Y/n). I couldn't stop thinking about you all day, I had to rub one out in the bathroom between schedules – a-ahh – b-because I was so excited to finally see you," he turned his head to rest against your shoulder, looking up at you from the corner of his vision. His hands grabbed at your hips, moving them to match his continuous ruts against you. "We don't need to do anything, just – ah – I'll finish s-soon. Please, can I just-"

San's lips parted, breathing out airy, needy moans onto the side of your neck before attaching his lips to the skin and nipping at it. You leaned down, cupping San's cheek and bringing your mouth to his, lazily moving your lips together while he desperately rutted against your hip like a bitch in heat.

"Sannie, I want you too," you whispered against his lips, watching his eyes glaze over as they took in the redness of your cheeks.

One of your hands reached down to his ass, grabbing at the clothed skin and urging him to thrust harder against you. He groaned into your neck as he came, his hips stuttering while his body shuddered against you, his release soaking through his clothes and darkening the material around his crotch.

Breathing heavily while he recovered from his orgasm, San's hands gently wrapped around the sides of your neck, his thumbs caressing the skin under your ears. He placed a few fleeting kisses to your lips, pushing his hips back into your palm as you squeezed at the flesh of his ass.

"Your turn."

--

San's fingers dug into your hips, bringing you further down on his face. Your hand stumbled to grab onto the armrest above San's head where he laid horizontally on the couch, your thighs shaking around his face as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you with his tongue.

"San, wait-"

He pulled at your hips again, his tongue placing kitten licks against your swollen clit. "Sit down properly."

"I don't want to hurt you," your knees dug into the cushions, your body curling in on itself as San brought you to the edge of yet another high.

"I can take it." His eyes fluttered open to look at you, his hands bringing you down fully over his face, your thighs squeezing against his temples. "There you go," he whispered against your dripping folds, his tongue licking up from your pulsing hole to your clit, before running his teeth over it and watching you whimper as a shiver ran through your body.

San flattened his tongue against your clit and your hips began to move on their own to ride his face, chasing your second orgasm of the night.

"Ah, Sannie. Fuck," your thighs tensed around his head, his tongue lapping at your pussy like it was his first meal of the day, humming pleasantly as he swallowed up your sweet arousal.

"Taste so good… I could eat your pretty pussy all day," he muttered against your clit, your body jolting every time his lips pressed against it. "Can you give me one more, sweetheart?"

You shook your head, lifting your hips off San's face. He reluctantly let you go, watching as you slid down his chest to straddle his hips, his bottom lip jutting out to form a pout.

"Want your cock," you breathed out, still recovering from your orgasm.

San's eyebrows shot up, nodding his head like a madman, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when you ran your dripping folds over his cock, standing red and angry against his belly. You shuddered when he brushed against your clit, moaning against his skin before taking one of his nipples into your mouth, running circles around it with your tongue while tweaking the other between two fingers.

"Fuck, (Y/n), please just- please fuck me already," he moaned, his eyes teary and pleading as you continued to roll your hips against him. "Please don't tease me, baby, your teasing is like torture. Please. I want you so bad, I feel like I'm losing my mind."

He withstood two more glides of your pussy against his throbbing length before wrapping an arm around your waist and flipping you over, hovering over you while his other hand lined him up with your entrance. "Can I? Please, please, please-"

"Yeah, fuck me good, baby," you answered hastily, grabbing at his biceps for support when he finally breached your fluttering hole.

"Fuuuck, my pretty baby, so tight for me," his hand grabbed the underside of your thigh, opening you up for him to shove his entire length into you in one go, his pelvis flush with yours. "A-ahh, taking me s-so well," he stuttered when your walls clenched around him, adjusting to the stretch.

You brought one hand down to San's ass, grabbing a handful of the flesh and urging his hips to move. San groaned into your neck, licking a stripe from your collarbone to your jaw before sucking on the skin under your ear.

His hips began to move, starting with shallow thrusts before drawing more of his length out and stuffing it back into you with a firm thrust, rolling his hips into yours when your pelvises met.

"All I could do these past two weeks was think about you," San brought his lips up to yours, his cock pumping into you and pressing directly against your favourite spot, your head thrown back as bolts of pleasure ran down your spine. "Hongjoong even scolded me yesterday because I kept getting the choreography wrong. Do you know why?" His voice was breathy and jagged as pleasure soared through him with every thrust, your pussy squeezing him so deliciously he was struggling not to fill you up already.

"Uh-uhh," you shook your head, your voice melting into a high-pitched moan when San's hips slowed down to a measured grind, feeling his cock throb inside you where it pressed on the ragged spot along your walls.

"Because I couldn't stop thinking about how badly I wanted to fuck this tight pussy full of my cum," he growled, his hips picked up their pace again, pounding himself into your sopping cunt.

"W-want Sannie's cum," you moaned into his ear, your nails scratching at his back.

San brought his fingers down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles around it. Your back arched, nipples brushing over San's as your orgasm washed over you. Your lips were parted while a drawn-out moan escaped you, your knees shaking and your hips jolting every time San brushed his fingers over your sensitive clit.

He didn't give you time to recover, swiftly flipping you over to lay you flat on your stomach before sheathing himself inside you again.

"S-san!"

"I'm not done with you yet," he pressed his lips against the back of your neck as he pistoned his hips into you, propped up on his forearms by your head.

Your fingers grabbed at the cushion under you, your whole body convulsing as San's cock pounded mercilessly against your g-spot.

"Wait- i-it's too much – hnnnngh," tears flowed freely from your eyes to form a dark spot on the couch under you as pain mixed with pleasure every time he thrusted back into you.

"Give me one more," he took the shell of your ear into his mouth, his body stretching over yours while the sound of skin on skin echoed in the room. "You can do that, can't you? Can my darling cum for me once more?"

He knew he got you when your pussy squeezed around him, a smirk stretching the corner of his mouth before his teeth bit down on your shoulder, his tongue licking over the bite mark he'd left.

"Wanna see you," you slurred, too fucked out to focus on anything but the glide of San's thick cock between your overstimulated walls.

San was quick to change positions, pulling your limp body over his to sit you down on his lap before sliding his length back into you. He set his feet down on the floor, thrusting up into your abused cunt. You threw your head back at the new angle before leaning in to slot your lips against his, wrapping your arms around the width of his shoulders. The kiss was mostly teeth and spit, but neither of you minded, the pleasure shooting through you too intense for either of you to care.

"Gonna fill you up," San muttered against your lips, his fingers gripping your hips so tight he was bound to leave bruises. "Have you full of my cum for days."

You nodded fervently, eyes rolling back when San took your nipple between his lips, giving it a harsh suck. "Want it, w-want it. Please!"

"Yeah?" He smirked, his fringe stuck to his slick forehead, one of his hands coming up to your mouth and shoving two fingers inside. He watched as your lips closed around them, sucking the digits into your mouth and circling your tongue around them. "My baby wants my cum? Want me to make you a mommy? Hm?"

You nodded, letting out muffled moans around his fingers and a series of yes, please, give it to me's as you felt the tingle of your impending orgasm. "W-want to carry Sannie's children," you breathed out, sliding a hand between your bodies to press your palm into your lower belly, feeling the swift glide of San's cock inside you.

San pulled his fingers out of your mouth, bringing them down to your sopping cunt and circling your clit eagerly. His lips parted while throaty moans escaped him freely at the feeling of you rubbing his cock from the outside.

"H-hah- a-ahh, San, I'm so- I'm going to-"

"Go ahead, my love," San rubbed calming circles over your back, bringing you closer to his chest as waves of mind-numbing pleasure rushed through you – your legs shook around him, loud moans spilling out of your swollen lips, your eyes blown wide. "That's it, cum for me."

The tight squeeze of your walls around his throbbing cock was enough to send him over the edge with you, throwing his head back as he spilled rope after rope of cum into your cunt. "Fuuuuuck- take my cum, baby, take all of it," he shuddered as he came. San stilled his thrusts, allowing you to rock your hips over his cock, riding out your highs together with soft moans and grunts into the other's skin.

Your hips ceased their movement, your pussy warming his cock while he continued to spurt his seed into you. It was so much. You felt so full – you actually believed you would get pregnant.

San wrapped you up in his arms, bringing you closer while he peppered your face with kisses before tucking you into his chest.

"I love you," you whispered, placing a tender kiss on his collarbone.

San smiled, his eyes forming nearly-perfect crescents. "I love you so, so much, my darling. My pretty (Y/n)."

San squeezed his arms around you once before releasing you. He secured his hands under your thighs before getting up, giggling at your surprised yelp while he carried you with him to the bathroom. Setting you down next to the sink, your legs continued to twitch where they dangled off the counter while San adjusted the water in the shower. He smirked at the trail of cum you left on the counter before guiding you under the warm water, washing off the sweat and grime from your previous activities. San scratched at your scalp, rubbing the shampoo into your hair, hearing you hum pleasantly into his chest. He kissed you under the warm stream, reveling in the soft touches you left all over his body – your palms rubbing against his back, nails scratching at the skin every now and then, your lips trailing down his chest before going back up to leave gentle pecks all over his face. San didn't think he was insane, but the more time he spent with you, the more he thought he was about to be.

Wrapping you up in the fluffiest towel he could find, San penguin-walked with you to your bedroom, his arms wrapped firmly around your middle while his chest pressed against your back.

Sliding into bed, the early birds already awake and singing outside your window, you inhaled the soft scent of San's body wash. He hummed faintly into your ear, your eyes beginning to droop before finally falling shut. Your hand – rubbing small circles against San's back – ceased its movements, falling limp over his waist.

Lulled to sleep in San's tender embrace, you realized that missing him was worth every second when he finally came home to you, tucking you into his arms while he showered you with all his love and kisses.

apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[bbanghiitomi]

THE SAME PLACE AND DIFFERENT TIME

pairing: kim minji x fem reader

trope: fish out of water! childhood friends! first love! little bit of angst! fluff!

waking up feels weird for y/n again, inside the body of a first year college student, her little young soul is stuck somewhere she doesn't want to be. peeking on the window of her colorless room, it's an ordinary sunday, clear skies with no clouds and her view is blocked by buildings. it's so boring sitting here inside her room, a bed with no presence of a certain person she longs for. there's almost no time for her, the world is too fast and there's always something to look forward for.

but lately, her days have become more boring, it feels like she's starting to lose the meaning of a secret world she used to have as a child. consumed by sadness and boredom, y/n doesn't really know what to do, she's stuck inside her dorm maybe for a few more years?

"no, i shouldn't sulk like this..." y/n mentally sighs as she stands up from her bed and walks towards her study table. she hasn't changed one bit, at least that's what she thinks, she's the same old kid who hates sitting around looking sad, someone who persists through every conflict and is spontaneous.

if minji were to see her again, would she think the same?

y/n have always wondered about that, when she thinks of minji, she starts to miss the tall girl again, like always since she left to study far from her home. y/n at first liked to believe it hasn't been that long, until maybe a few more years passed because she hopes when she comes back, minji would remember her again.

but in reality, it's been more than 2 years, 5 years to be exact... in that amount of time, how many memories did minji make without y/n? how many people did she meet?

how long did she ever think about y/n? when every hour felt like another day without warmth for y/n.

does she care for y/n anymore? the thought is extremely scary, thinking about being forgotten is scary...

y/n sits on her chair, grabbing her laptop as she opens it and looks at an email from her school, after her test, the school announces a break for the students and it's 4 weeks.

enough time to go back to gangwon province and maybe see minji again.

"no!" y/n shakes her head as she buries her face on her palms, the warmth of embarrassment spreads around her face. will she even remember me? y/n thinks to herself as she sighs, stretching her arms to her table and leaning over to it, her fingers touching the small and fuzzy bear figurine that minji have gifted her before, there's a smaller version of it, the baby bear.

back then, there really wasn't a lot to worry about, just when y/n's piano practice starts or when minji needs to go back home. back then, these feelings she had for minji were all just something to laugh about and forget tomorrow, but it turned into something bigger the longer she looks for minji.

times used to be more simple and minji used to be enough for her to reach, maybe she have wished for too much and that dream she had since she was little came true, but now y/n feels lonely.

the girl also comes across her last messages to minji, before everything went radio silent.

"sorry!" as if she have caused minji some trouble again.

"it's okay. message me again when you're free." minji sent her.

"okay!" y/n's reply and she hasn't gotten any free time ever since.

should she really come back? is the biggest question she wants to know right now, before she spends her break rotting on her bed all day long.

luckily, y/n's parents came to the rescue, they've been planning on building a small house in a small town in the province and they wanted to hear her thoughts. that means y/n can have an actual reason to go back...

on her way home in the car, y/n sits behind and listens as her parents converse. "what have our daughter been doing? we missed you so much." y/n's mother pipes in, the girl gives her mother a smile before leaning towards her mother's seat. "a lot actually, i didn't know there's a lot to do in college."

her father's laughs, shaking her head. "you'll get used to it kid, we've been living in the city for 5 years... things will get more rocky in the future." he says, y/n nods and smiles at her father. "i understand." she mutters.

her mother smiles endearingly at the interaction before looking behind her daughter who immediately meets her gaze, "don't you want to see minji?" she asks, y/n raises her brows and purses her lips before leaning back to the backseat and shrugging.

"i actually don't know if i want to..." she admits, sighing before laughing and shaking her head. "it's just that, it's been 5 years." she adds, y/n's father takes a peek at his daughter and looks at his wife before back at the road.

"didn't we talk to her family last week?" he asks, y/n's mother perks up and nods, looking at their daughter, who then gives them both a confused look.

"oh right! we missed the town so much, we decided to build a home again in the same neighborhood." y/n looks at her parents and squints her eyes at them before speaking. "okay? and what did you guys talk about?" the parents look at each other before laughing.

"a lot, about the house, the town, the city, university and you! minji said she misses you." y/n's father say and y/n cannot help the way her eyes widens. "o-oh... really?" she mutters.

her mother nods with a bright smile. "she said, you seem very busy and she was wondering why you weren't with us." y/n fixes her hair and the way she sits, before raising her index finger. "so, what do you guys plan to do there?" she asks.

her father looks straight to the road, occasionally peeking at his daughter from time to time. "well, minji's family owns a small inn, right? we can stay there for a while, talk about what we want our house to look like." he shrugs, y/n nods and gives her parents a small smile.

"i won't mind that. i wish it would look like our old house though." the girl receives nods from her parents and it didn't take them any longer until they finally arrived their old town.

standing in the middle of the street, y/n looks rather... lost? or maybe she is, the day is about to end and y/n starts to hear crickets all over the place. it's as if she's never been in this town, there's so many turns, left and right and it's making her head dizzy.

there weren't that much people too, it's like she's in a ghost town! it's not like this in the city, so bustling and loud, full of life.

and y/n starts to wonder whether she was really from this place, did she really grow up here? why does this place look so unfamiliar? just a few moments ago, y/n walked away from the inn before she could even see minji, wanting to gain enough courage to talk to the tall girl again.

and now here she is, lost in the town, not sure where to go. this moment made y/n realize she's changed, a lot... that maybe she really wasn't the same person she was before. the small y/n would never be lost like this...

still, y/n wants to find her way back home, even if she doesn't know where.

"do you still know this way?" y/n hears someone behind her and she immediately turns her body around to look at the familiar face of her childhood friend.

"m-minji..." she can only mutter, minji laughs and walks towards the girl. "why did you leave? when i went to welcome your family to the inn, you were nowhere." y/n shakes her head and puts a hand on her face and she sighs.

"i just wanted to walk around..." though, it was clearly a lie. minji nods and raises her hand as if to gesture y/n to follow. "let's go back to the inn." minji tells the girl, a very endearing and totally not charming smile on her face.

the girl nods and tucking in lost strands of her hair behind her ear before watching minji walk past her and the girl follows immediately.

minji doesn't look back but she's smiling, it's nerve-wracking, y/n doesn't know what to really say as if the words are stuck in her throat. no motivation to fight for her feelings.

"so, how's the city? i heard many great things come from there." minji starts, looking behind. the girl looks at minji and sees the smile on minji's face, her round eyes and very recognizable lips. y/n looks down with a blush on her cheeks and then back up at minji again as she laughs. "oh it's fine, i grew kind of tired of the noise and how boring the city could be." y/n answers, minji blinks twice before turning to the road again.

as they walk, they see kids frolic around the area, to the park and around some corners of the village. seeing that makes y/n reminisce about the past again, how fun and simple it was, what did change? she wonders.

"wasn't it your dream? you told me before." minji remembers that, but remembering it reminded you that you wanted that dream for your parents, because it's a big thing.

"my parents' actually, but then again, their dreams are mine." y/n sees minji nod, her back turned to y/n again as they walk and finally reach the inn. surprisingly, your parents weren't that upset, very understanding too. "thank god minji was there earlier, we knew she'd pick you up right away." y/n's father walks over to minji and pats her shoulder.

"so happy to see you again kid! i'm sure my daughter is too." minji smiles at y/n's father, nodding her head before looking at y/n, who cannot find a way to avoid the other girl. "that's great to know. have you brought your things up inside your inn already, sir?" she asks, and y/n's parents nod.

"we did! don't worry, by the way we should get going for now. we haven't gotten dinner." y/n's mother waves her hand towards minji and leaves with her husband, y/n stops walking in front of minji and looks at her parents before back at minji.

"thanks... i hope i didn't bother you." she smiles apologetically and fixes her hair, minji feels her heart beating as she looks at the girl. minji shrugs and shakes her palms that are starting to get wet. "nope, it's okay. you should get some rest now."

"okay, see you tomorrow." they stare at each other for a good 3 minutes before y/n looks away and starts walking unusually faster to their inn.

"you left the construction site?" minji asks the girl, who looks up from where she was sitting and stands up, fixing her skirt. minji's eyes went to look at y/n's skirt and immediately, like nothing happened up at y/n's eyes.

"uh huh." she says, nodding her head before laughing sheepishly. "i got bored and yeah, i want to do something else." y/n says, minji nods and puts her hands on the pocket of her pants.

"you haven't changed a bit." minji says, letting out a small chuckle. y/n look up back at her, raising an eyebrow at the tall girl. "what?" she whispers, minji walks behind a bit. "i mean, i don't think you changed at all. you're still the same girl from before." y/n feels her cheeks blaze as she nods, humming.

the playground is empty in the middle of the day, when kids are at school, just like it was before. it's almost as if it was the same place, and yes it was but... it also feels like the same time, y/n doesn't feel like she's grown any older.

yes, minji looked more mature, looked prettier, taller and her hair grew longer and more silky.

"really? i always thought i've changed a lot." y/n tells minji, she receives a smile from the other girl. "well, you looked prettier now. but other than that, you wear the same type of clothes." y/n blinks when minji says that she turned prettier... y/n blinks again and laughs sheepishly, looking down on her skirt.

"ah yeah, i feel more like myself in these." truth to be told, it's more on projection. thinking about how much she's changed mentally is tiring, it's like the life in city left her caged with nothing to do but the same thing. the only way she can relived her past self is by wearing the same clothes she used to wear.

minji looks at y/n's clothes and back the the girl's face. "it's nice. living in the city, i'm surprised you're still hesitant about your looks." minji chuckles and scratches the back of her head, y/n blinks her eyes twice and then away. "i just feel like sometimes i don't feel right in my own clothes."

"you look right, amazing even." minji shrugs before offering her hand to y/n. "it's been so long since i last saw you." minji adds, y/n stretches her arm and opens her hand to hold minji's, the texture of minji's palm never changes, despite all the work she does in their house it's still soft.

"i'm sorry if i couldn't even message you..." y/n says, recalling the times she couldn't make any time to reply or even hit minji up. minji shrugs and caress y/n's hand. "i understand, it's not easy being in college. i hope you're fine though..." y/n smiles at minji and puts another hand on their hands.

"i'm so glad to see you again, it feels so weird..." y/n purses her lips before sighing and speaking again. "it's like i'm going around chasing a bunny, then again i'm lost." minji nods, tilting her head to get a better look of your face.

"some people really don't understand the secret this world has." there's so much to do, so much to eat, so much to say, so many to love and care for. there's not enough time to do everything but the most. y/n looks up at minji as the tall girl speaks. "you told me before right? that happiness are those small things."

at the end of the day, y/n is just a crybaby.

in this bright world full of fantastic things, there's no time to feel bored.

"yeah... and we used to eat cookies, and almost i don't know what i was doing before." y/n laughs, minji looks away. there's a blooming, ticklish, funny feeling inside minji when she's here holding your hands, it's the same giddy feeling while playing stupid games before, the same feeling looking at your face but this feeling was never there for anyone else.

"you used to never think twice, no matter how crucial it is. you also used to get lost a lot too, then i'd look for you." minji says, y/n giggles and brings their hands closer to her chest. "thinking about those stuff, feels like looking at a picture book right?" y/n says, minji nods.

the skies are turning orange, and kids are running towards the playground. maybe the reason the little kid y/n was before didn't get lost because she had minji.

"you used to always get in trouble..." minji laughs and y/n shakes her head, whining. "i was just really annoying!"

it's such a ridiculous story, feels like no one will believe. seeing minji's face again, the patch of mud on the sidewalk and the kids frolicking around in their own world.

"i missed you a lot." minji speaks again, this time her voice sounded more delicate as if she meant every one of her word. it's been so long, days, weeks, months and years have passed but minji still remembers y/n.

the girl looks at minji as if she's about to cry, because those words mean a lot to her. y/n nods, letting go of minji's hand before she steps and wraps her arms around minji. "i missed you too!" y/n sobs, causing minji to laugh.

"come on, are you really just gonna weep like that?" minji teases, y/n buries her head on minji's shoulder, wiping her tears on the taller girl's shirt. "seriously..." y/n whispers.

minji pats y/n's back, an arm around the girl's waist. "ah, it's getting darker." minji mutters, y/n ignores her and sobs again. "i really think of you a lot, when i look at my last message to you... i wish i can do something about it." y/n whispers, her voice cracking every syllable.

"you know i'm not going anywhere, right?" minji whispers back, putting her hand on top of y/n's head. y/n nods, it's not about that. the girl hates the idea of being away from minji again, she's hated that idea but seeing minji again, like this... makes her hate it even more.

minji isn't leaving but minji is also not going to be there always, it's not about whether she's going to leave or not... after all those years, her little silly feelings for minji, turned into something bigger and more serious, when she yearns for minji's warmth that space inside her heart turns more shallow.

maybe, y/n is scared minji might find someone else...

"don't look for anyone else other than me..." y/n whispers, minji widens her eyes as she hears what was said. minji turns her head to take a peek of y/n's face, but all the girl did was bury her face deeper on minji's neck.

"what do you mean?" this is it. this must be really it.

y/n may feel guilty for sounding selfish admitting that she hates the idea that minji will find someone who'll love her too.

"i... i want to be honest, ever since i left i started to miss you more everyday, it feels like it was never gonna end." y/n takes a sharp breath. feeling the way her heart squeezes as if pouring out all the feelings she's harbored for minji on those years they were away from each other.

it feels like she's inside a woods, lost inside the forest with nowhere to go except the only path she can see.

"it was so long... everything feels like it's the same everyday. people around me moved on, went past and never looked back. i couldn't because i feel it too deeply, and i love too much..." y/n pulls away from minji, letting go of the tall girl... that also forced minji to let her hands off of y/n.

"i didn't want to be left alone, i didn't want to think of you with someone else!" y/n sees the way minji looks at her, the tall girl looks at the playground, the kids are all going home.

y/n puts her hand on her face, wiping her stupid tears away.

"i never looked for anyone else but you... i see you on and off on your account, it gives me hope that you're still there. we're stuck on the same memory, i think of you too a lot." minji shrugs as she speaks and reaches for y/n's hand, minji hears y/n trying to suppress her tears.

"y/n? are you serious?" minji chuckles and holds y/n's hand tighter. the girl looked confused, she tucks in strands of stray hair behind her ear. minji sighs. "i take my time to let you know i'm just here for you to lean on to, stupid messages, so short but it's alright because i know you're okay." minji continues, her other hand reaches for y/n's shoulder.

y/n was silent, she looks like she's hesitating but in reality, there's nothing but minji inside her head.

"it's because i like you!" y/n opens her mouth and stares at minji, surprised about what she had said. minji leans her head closer, seeing y/n blink her eyes and lifting her hands to cover her face.

minji hears y/n whine and she holds the girl's shoulders. "hey..."

"i don't why? we only talk through messages and they're not even that long! i've tried to hard to get rid of these feelings but it's not working! you're really the only one i want..." y/n grumbles, her voice is muffled but still audible that it makes minji smile to see how intense the girl's feelings are for her.

"i understand." minji states as she moves her hand to hold y/n's nape, pulling her closer and making the girl take her hands off of her face until their foreheads touch. minji holds y/n's waist with her other hand. "don't ever change, okay? you and your feelings, don't change." minji whispers.

y/n hears the crickets and then maybe her own heartbeat, distracted by the way minji looks at her eyes... it could be the street lamps but minji's eyes looks like she has the whole milky way galaxy in them.

minji laughs as she feels how warm y/n has gotten.

out of nowhere, the tall girl leans to kiss y/n on the lips, not that long but enough for y/n to feel it linger all over her.

the wind blows, but suddenly it's not so cold here anymore.

minji doesn't give y/n any time to react and immediately pulls her in a hug. "dummy. i love you too, okay? you're not alone." minji mutters.

y/n lowers her head, leaning on minji's shoulder and she finds herself diving in deeper in their hug. "gosh, this feels like it's not real..." y/n mutters, minji laughs again and places a kiss on y/n's cheek.

"but it is real, wanna go back to the inn?" minji asks, gently lifting y/n from the ground, causing the girl to shriek and laugh.

and it's fun like that, exploring new feelings and diving in it without thinking much. it's fun basking on its wonderful effects, how amazing love can be or just how unpredictable circumstances are sometimes.

it's another day, y/n feels like she dreams a lot now. she doesn't want to forget her dreams.

when the girl sits up, she opens her eyes and sees how blurry her vision was. the girl rubs her eyes for a few seconds, before opening them again.

she was greeted by the pink walls of her room, exactly the same copy of her childhood room but without the stains of time.

was she dreaming? y/n peeks on her window, a very sunny day with bright skies and clouds all over the blue horizon.

just an ordinary day.

y/n looks on the floor of her room, her shoes with a patch of mud on it.

thankfully, she wasn't dreaming at all.

the door of her room opens, from the shoes, y/n looks up to see minji smiling at her. "hey, it's 11am already." the girl says, y/n smiles and jumps off of her bed, running towards minji and embracing the tall girl in a hug.

"ah! thank you!" y/n rubs her cheek on minji's shoulder, humming. the tall girl looks at her girlfriend, confused. "what happened?" she asks.

y/n shakes her head and laughs. thinking that what if everything was a dream? y/n was scared that once she opens her eyes, minji will be out of reach again. but she's wrong, minji is here.

"nothing, i'm so happy you're here again! and that you wake me up before it gets late." y/n says, minji nods and pats y/n's head, sighing. "ah yeah, come on we have somewhere to go." minji pulls y/n out of her room, their laughter is heard across the corridor as they walk to the dining room.

y/n might have been lost on her way home, maybe it took her too long to find her way back... but she's back! that's all that matters, minji is with her to guide her wherever she goes, just like when they were younger.

[godsmenusuperbowl]

A Minor Celebrity's Lover ~ *Bang Chan*

Summary: You've been spending more time with CB97 and your feelings for him have only grown. You haven't made a move thought, afraid he'll reject you. However, could it be he feels the same way?

Pairing: Bang Chan X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluff Oneshot

Word Count: 1734

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

Taglist: @samepoisonsamevine​ @mxnsxngie @maeleelee @kpop-will-kill-me

A/N: Part 2 to A Minor Celebrity. I highly recommend reading that first.

It has become a sort of tradition now. Well, more of like a routine. Every Monday morning, at roughly ten in the morning, Chris would waltz through the door of the little coffee shop. You would smile, take his order, and he would give you a generous tip and song recommendation for the day. As soon as he left, you would listen to the song and tell him the next week how much you liked it. 

That was your favorite part of his visit every Monday morning. You would gush over his amazing taste in music and tell him how much you adored each word and each beat. And he would explain how the song was made to the best of his ability. You always learn something new in the music making process every week. And occasionally, when you asked really nicely, he would pull out his headphones and you could listen to a bit of the song he was currently working on. You would always tell him it was your favorite song ever, but you could see in his eyes that he didn't quite believe you. Nevertheless, you were sure to give him as much praise as possible for his amazing work and he graciously accepts, although his cheeks are always pink when he does.

"If you keep drifting into the clouds when you're supposed to be working, I'm going to have you clean the entire back room." Your boss's voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

You shake your head and offer her a small, slightly uneasy smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get so distracted."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Sure you did. I know who you're thinking about."

You couldn't suppress your groan. "Am I really that obvious?"

"Obvious and oblivious." She laughs and shakes her head. "I don't understand why you don't just ask him out already! The two of you have a real connection! You'd make the perfect couple!"

"Easy for you to say." You shake your head again. "He's way out of my league. I don't stand a chance with him. And I've accepted that."

"But you don't have to! Look, I'm not asking you to throw yourself at him and beg him to marry you. But maybe go get dinner or go to a concert, since you're both into music, or something like that! Just hang out is all I'm saying!"

"We'll see." Was all you said before you glanced at the clock. A frown tugged at your lips. "He's late."

"What?" Your boss followed your eyes. "Oh, I suppose he is. But it's not the end of the world, you know. He'll show up soon, I'm sure."

You shook your head. "He's never late. Something's wrong."

"Hey, relax your paranoia. Perhaps traffic is bad or he got tied up with work. He'll be here, I'm sure."

You tried to believe her, but you were sure something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. Chris was never late.

In an effort to make it look like you were bothered by the fact he wasn't there, you tried to get all of your work done. However, you eventually found yourself wiping down the counter for the third time in the last hour. It made your boss tease you, which made you tease her back. But you were still anxious. Where was Chris?

Just as you were about to shoot him a text, the door to the cafe burst open. There he was, still trying to stuff papers into his satchel, his hair disheveled, and his jacket half on, half off. Despite how messy he looked, he was still as handsome as the first time you saw him.

He gave you a lop-sided smile and a small wave. "Hi. Sorry I'm late."

"Oh, we were so worried about you!" Your boss dramatically replied, earning a shove from you.

"She's joking! I was just about to start working on your order. I wanted to make sure it was still warm when you got here." You quickly explain, trying to keep your blush down.

He nods and his smile widens. "Thank you so much! I'll just be at my usual spot."

As he went back to his table by the window, you rushed to get his latte and cinnamon roll order done. You could feel your anxiety from earlier ease and a smile stretch onto your face. As per usual, you felt so much better now that he was here.

When the order was done, you took a deep breath and turned to go deliver it to him. But as soon as you did, you felt your heart sink into my stomach.

There was a girl leaning over Chris, batting her eyelashes and brightly smiling. She was totally flirting with him. You felt so dumb for getting so excited to see him when he had plenty of other girls fawning over him. You really didn't want to give his order, but it's your job. So, taking a deep breath, you make your way over to his table with his order in hand. You kept telling yourself to be quick and then take your break in the walk-in.

"Oh my God, you're so funny!" She cackled and it made your skin crawl.

Chris gave a small chuckle before noticing you. "Oh, hey! Thank you so much for the coffee and the cinnamon roll! Is this the biggest one you have? It's massive!"

You gave a pained smile. "Yep, I thought you'd enjoy it."

"I love cinnamon rolls!" The girl gushes, dipping her finger into the frosting on top. "They're super sweet!"

It took all of your power not to outwardly cringe as she sucked the frosting off, staring at Chris as she did so. With a pained grin, you gave a curt nod.

"Well, I'll leave you the two of you be."

"Wait!" Chris called out to you. "Aren't you going on break soon? Care to join me?"

Before you could open your mouth, the girl began to whine. "But I thought we were hanging out!"

Chris pursed his lips. "Frankly, I'd rather not. I would prefer it if you would please leave me alone."

She scoffed. "So, you'd rather hang out with some cafe worker than with me? Ugh, I don't have to take this! I'm leaving! Have fun with boring conversations about coffee and pastries!"

As she sauntered off, you heard Chris heave a sigh and slump down in his chair. You bit your lip. How were you supposed to respond in this situation?

"I'm sorry." You mumbled. "I shouldn’t have made you push her away. I'll just go now."

As you were about to leave and go drown yourself in whipped cream, you heard him say, "Actually, I wanted her to leave."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "Yeah. She was making things really awkward and uncomfortable."

You gave a small laugh. "Oh good, it wasn't just me then."

Your smile widened as he laughed along with you. "Nope. Not just you. But, I was hoping you would stay."

"You want me to stay?" Your eyes widen a little at his words. Sure, it wasn't the first time the two of you spent your break talking, but this was the first time he actually articulated that he wanted to spend time with you. It made your heart skip a beat.

He nodded. "Yeah, I wanted to show you something."

You nod and sit across from him. "Is it another playlist?"

"Not exactly."

As he took out his laptop, he turned it towards you. It looked exactly like a playlist. You gave him an unimpressed look, though there was a grin still tugging at your lips.

He bashfully chuckled. "I promise while it may look like a playlist, it's not. I mean, what I mean to say is, just look at the first song."

You squinted at it and gasped. "Did you make that song?"

"Yeah, I did. I wanted you to listen to it and tell me if you like it."

As you nod, you take the headphones he offers you and put them on. He plays the song and for the next three minutes, you are transported to another world. It was like the song was calling to your soul. You couldn't help but get entranced by the music and the words, absolutely in love with everything about it. As the final notes played, you couldn't help but be a little disappointed; you wanted it to go on forever!

"Well? What did you think?" He asked as you took off the headphones, a hopeful shine in his eyes.

"It was amazing! Seriously, you have such a gift, I'm a little jealous! I could listen to it everyday if I could!"

"Really?" He sounded surprised and you nodded in response.

"Absolutely! It was so beautiful!"

He blushed and ducked his head. "Thank you. That really means a lot coming from you. Especially because I made it for you."

Your heart stuttered to a stop. "You made it for me? Really?"

He nods before looking you in the eyes, his cheeks a bright shade of red. "I didn't know how else to say it so I thought it would be easier to put it into a song. I really like you. Like, like you like you. And if you would be willing to consider, I would love to take you on a date this weekend."

You couldn't believe your ears. Was your favorite person in the entire world really just asking you on a date right now? It felt like a dream come true! You were not about to let this golden opportunity slip past you.

"Yes, I would love to go on a date with you!" You nod, your cheeks hurting from how wide your smile is. "Although, if you don't mind, I'd rather not go get coffee for our first date, seeing as it's my job."

He nods. "Oh, of course. I was actually thinking about taking you to this little bistro down the street."

"Oh, my cousin works there!"

"Are you serious?"

"One hundred percent."

"Wow." He laughs and shakes his head. "Well, how about I meet you there this Saturday at, say, seven?"

"I'll be there! I can't wait!"

"Me neither."

And wouldn't you know it? The next episode of his podcast was all about first dates and how much he loved going on a date with you.

[atinytokki]

Orbit

Summary

Notorious space pirate Kim Hongjoong has turned himself over to the authorities in return for clemency for his crew. His execution is set to be an intergalactic spectacle telecast live across the galaxies. ATEEZ are left adrift, but they aren't giving up. This will be their greatest heist yet: stealing their captain back. 

Originally written for the 8 Makes 1 Family Fest and cross-posted to ao3 and wattpad. First chapter here!

Comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters :)

[ujijang]

"AS HER ANGEL"

A jeonghan au wherein an angel met a woman that changed his life

https://www.wattpad.com/story/367731160?utm_source=android&utm_medium=com.tumblr&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=teuteen

I write for fun and just starting but I hope you will like it. I will be continuing and publish more soon, thank you!

[barnesbabee]

𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑'𝖘 𝕶𝖎𝖘𝖘 - 𝕱𝖎𝖛𝖊

ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ'ꜱ ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - ꜰɪᴠᴇ - ɴᴇxᴛ

ATEEZ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

“Then fucking do it. Please.”

In a blink of an eye (and you're not sure how), the two of you were standing in your bedroom, his wings spread out in your home once more and adrenaline rushing through you, as he pushed you onto the bed and ripped off whatever was left of his grey shirt.

Seonghwa slowly got on the bed and hovered over you, carefully watching the way your body reacted, and stopped once his face was leveled with yours. Seonghwa grabbed your chin and caressed your bottom lip with the rough skin of his thumb.

"I want you. Badly. I don't think I've ever wanted anything as much in the thousands of years I've existed, but it's dangerous for me to take you."

His words, mixed with the alcohol, lust, and adrenaline rush, only made you want him more. No man had ever referred to fucking you as 'taking you', and only now were you understanding how powerful words (and a pair of wings, apparently) could be, and how easily they could control you and lure you into doing insane, unthinkable things.

"I don't give a fuck." You replied, anxious for his touch.

However, his hands did not budge. One kept on holding your face, and the other was steady on your hip.

"I don't think you're understanding, doing this will solidify our bond and anger many powerful entities, the consequences might heavily outweigh the benefits."

You responded by grinding your hips against his and bringing his face closer to yours, so his lips were painfully near yours.

"Just shut up and fuck me please."

There were no warnings left to give you, nothing else he could tell you to make sure you wouldn't regret it, and, consequently, nothing that could stop him.

Seonghwa kissed you feverously. His hands grabbed your ass harshly and brought your hips upwards, so you could feel his hard-on rubbing against your crotch. Your hands were tangled in his hair and you could tell what he was into from the get-go, as his moans got louder the harder you tugged on his hair. He slapped your ass, getting a moan just as loud as his from you.

Your hands undid the button of his tight jeans, and you slid one hand inside his underwear. Seonghwa's mouth fell agape and a sigh escaped his lips at the pleasure your simple touch gave him.

"Hm... This mighty and this desperate. Cute." You mocked.

Seonghwa leaned his forehead against yours briefly and stared into your eyes before letting the hottest breathy laugh you'd ever heard.

"Don't mistake my desperation for submission, hm?" He calmly warned you, as he slowly wrapped his large hand around your neck and squeezed it slightly, always watching out for your reaction.

Seonghwa wrapped his fingers around the hem of your panties and brought it down, finally revealing what he wanted to see.

He grabbed his cock and stroked it a couple of times, before aligning it with your hole.

"I've seen millions of people throughout my life, but you are, by far, the most beautiful I've ever seen." He whispered in your ear, before carefully entering you.

Seonghwa wasn't stupid, he was 90% sure he would be able to stay away from you after you met (for your protection), however, he still made sure to get some practice sex here and there while hiding away from you, in case the 10% won over and he got to be with you. He didn't want to waste his chances by doing a shitty job: Seonghwa wanted you wrapped around his fingers.

He snapped his hips against yours at a rhythmic pace, trying his best to hold back as the feeling of being inside of you along with the sensation of your fingernails digging on the skin of his shoulders started becoming overwhelming.

The angel would often look at your face, looking for any signs of discomfort, as he didn't want to accidentally hurt you.

As the adrenaline built up in him and his orgasm neared, his features changed: the dark veins came back or his arms, neck, and partially on his torso, his eyes became fully black, his teeth grew sharper, his wings spread out even more and his feathers became frizzled.

You weren't sure if it was Seonghwa's body, his looks, his shamelessness, the danger of his being or the pure rush and adrenaline of the situation, but you came faster than ever, with a loud cry for his name and arched back.

Seonghwa was glad he didn't have to hold any longer and pulled out as he came on your stomach.

"You could've... done it inside." You shyly told him, slightly out of breath.

Seonghwa sat on his heels, waiting to come down just enough to retract his wings.

"So you're into that?"

"Might be..."

The angel laid next to you once his wings finally retracted and pulled you close, as you slowly fell asleep to the sound of his deep voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Taglist: @seiiblue​ @potaeto-writes-on-wp@songsoomin@whatudowhennooneseesyou @hjys99 (DM or send an Ask if you want to be added)

[bitacrytic]

In this post, @aella-a asked,

Would it have killed the writers to include women in the book?

And I have a theory about this, because...

In this other post, while summarising the plot of the show, @evanbuckleyed said,

so what fanfic is this based off of?

If you're like me and you used to dabble in kpop fanfiction, KinnPorsche wouldn't be weird to you. It never really occurred to me why I wasn't bothered by the lack of women. If anything, I'd rather have a spin off of only women, than have women inserted into this story. But I digress.

My point is, if you used to write or read kpop fanficiton, you'd see the signs in KinnPorsche. The leader as the father, the members as children, bodyguards, enemies, what have you. Sometimes, some people would have more than one group in the fic, but more often than not, it was groups of the same gender.

You'll read an entire 100k fanfic about how /Super Junior Goes to War with Big Bang over Resources in a Dystopian World\ and it would never even occur to you that NOT ONE SINGLE WOMAN appears throughout the story.

I'm not excusing them for excluding women. I'm just saying that if someone adapted their all-boy-kpop-mafia-au fanfic idea into a series of novels, KinnPorsche would be the perfect example.

[pro-nonbender]

New Fanficiton in the Works!

Hello friends! I am a new writer working on my first fanfiction, I am looking to see if someone would be interested in proof reading for me. I am writing an ATLA AU where Azula, Mai, Ty Lee, and Suki are all in an idol group together (based off of the kpop group Mamamoo). I am jumping the gun a little as I haven't even finished the first chapter, but I would really appreciate some feedback and help. Message me if you think this is something you may be interested in.

[lush-mp3]

for you page simulator:

post about fanficiton

post about fanfiction

kpop boy i don’t care about

kpop boy i don’t care about

post about fanfiction that contradicts other two

essay length analysis of naruto that’s incorrect

kpop boy i don’t care about

[lilyy43]

about me

i write a lot of stuff but most are kept to myself, tho lately ive been thinking ab publishing them; so here i am.

i write lots of short stories that are fictional, i use a lot of emotions and psychological stuff. every short drabble ictures different feelings, so im sure u'll find sth for urself :))

my writing is often based on true events; not only mine, but stories ive heard and things i observe, there is often sth in my stories thats real.

as u can see now, i dont rlly use punctation marks and stuff and i shorten a lot of words but that doesn’t happen in my writing so dw.

tbh my writing is sometimes kinda depressing, because i use it to cope with my emotions. also, i write like without shame, ik a lot of people are like ‘dont write explicit content about underaged characters!!’ and i think thats right when ur writing about people who are real, like fanficiton. but i write about my original charactes and i want to show the real perspectives of life so.. yea.

im open to write fanfiction!! when i was younger i used to read 1D fanfics all the time... now i got into kpop a little, my ult is enha <3 so my fellow engenes, if u'd like a specific scenario, im up to write it for u!

well that was mostly ab my writing not me, but if u wanna know more specifically about me then go ahead and ask!

okay thank u, have a great day and bye :)

[cheollipop]

chicken rice porridge

navi | taglist | pt.1

pairing: choi san x gn!reader

w.c.: 2.2k

tags: FLUFF, seriously so fluffy I could cry, non-sexual nudity (<;3)

After catching his cold, San laboured to make sure you didn't have to lift a finger, holding you so tightly in his warm embrace that the sniffles had no choice but to go away.

A/N: I cried, giggled, blushed, then threw up writing this. Also, thank you so so so so so much for all the love you guys gave me on pt.1, I appreciate you all sm! I hope you like this one as well! :")

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

The bags crinkled as San hauled them through your front door, knuckles white as they bore their weight. He nudged the door with his hip, waiting for it to click shut before slipping his shoes off and turning the corner into the living room. 

"No, no! What are you doing?" He whined, rushing to the kitchen and dropping the heavy bags on the island before speed-walking towards the couch where you sat, working on the document your boss had sent you earlier. "Babe, you need to rest!"

"I'm almost done," you kept your eyes fixed on the screen, bloodshot and teary, burning as the bright light hit them. "Wait-" You gripped the width of the device as San ripped it off your lap. 

"No. No more working." 

"Sannie, please. Just five more minutes," you pouted, tugging the laptop towards you; his grip around it did not budge.

"You already took the day off, you can do it when you feel better." 

You huffed, knowing that he wouldn't relent, and your fingers eased around the laptop, allowing San to slip it out of your hands. He quickly saved the document before shutting the lid, gently setting it on the coffee table, away from the pile of tissues you had been collecting. 

He had felt guilty for making you sick, but seeing the soft pout adorning your lips, he felt slightly better. You were so cute. Taking your appearance in – greasy hair tangled and disheveled, red nose sniffling while you wiped at your teary eyes, lips cracked and dry, your tongue peeking out to wet them every so often – he couldn't help but smile. Even now, he still found you beautiful. It was almost sickening how infatuated he was with you. 

"Let's get you washed up," he spoke, voice sweet as honey, a fond smile on his lips.

–

Submerging yourself into the steaming bath, your muscles relaxed as warmth engulfed your body. Your head rested on the edge of the tub, San behind you, hands running over your shoulders and softly squeezing the soft skin. You hummed contently, sinking further into the water, your eyes fluttering shut. 

San worked silently, palms rubbing up and down your arms, then back up your shoulders, massaging the back of your neck, gently digging his fingers into the stiff muscle.

"Feels good," you muttered, melting into his touch.

San leaned forward and pressed his lips to your temple. He turned on the shower head and pressed it to your scalp, waiting until the water saturated your hair before turning it back off. With one hand running through the wet strands, his other reached for the shampoo bottle next to him, opening it and squeezing some into his hand. Rubbing the shampoo between his palms, he watched the suds form before spreading them onto your hair, the floral scent permeating the air around you. Your eyes remained shut as you breathed out a sigh, reveling in the scratch of San's blunt nails against your scalp.

You didn't feel yourself slumping down until his breathy chuckle echoed in the room. "Babe, you're going to drown." 

You pulled yourself up, giggling as you rested your head back, safely situated in the tub again. He held your face in his hands, thumbs brushing against your cheek and coating them with the leftover soap before leaving you to grab the shower head again. He turned the water back on, making sure to flush out every last bubble, running his fingers through the now-clean locks. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, your eyes opening to meet his, cheeks blushing at the way he was looking at you – the corners of his eyes wrinkling, dimples peeking out to greet you, his smile so warm it made the bath water feel icy against your skin. 

"Don't stare too hard, you might fall in love," he teased, dimples sinking further into his skin, eyes almost forming perfect crescents. 

"It might be a little too late for that," a shy smile tugged at your lips and his finger booped your nose, pinching your cheek gently before pulling himself up.

He simply stood there to admire you, hands at his hips with nothing but fondness gracing his features. You instinctively curled in on yourself, suddenly feeling exposed. San picked up on your timidness, letting his head drop so he could hide the grin splitting his face. You were so cute. He chose not to comment on the bright red coating on your cheeks, moving towards the door after placing a fluffy towel next to the clothes he'd set out for you. 

"I'm going to change your sheets," he put his palm out to dodge your incoming complaints. "Call me when you're done, I'll be happy to help you dress." The wink he sent your way almost gave you a heatstroke. With a breathy chuckle and dimples on show, he walked out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. 

You sat up, sighing and slapping your hands against your heated cheeks. Sickness was nothing compared to having to deal with your boyfriend. Choi San will be the death of you.

–

Walking out of the stuffy bathroom, dressed in a clean set of clothes – a hoodie you'd stolen from San and a pair of sweatpants – you made your way through the apartment, peeking your head into the kitchen where you’d heard your boyfriend clattering around. 

San stood behind the island, hands working on tying the apron strings behind his back, ingredients scattered over the marble. Your eyes zero in on the rather huge knife – your sharpest one – sitting on the wooden cutting board in front of him. 

"Sannie?" 

His head jerked upwards, features easing when he saw you practically swimming in his clothes, a smile instantly curving the corners of his lips. "Feel better?" 

You nod, stepping towards him slowly, eyes fixed on the knife. "What… are you doing?" 

"Making porridge for my sweetest (Y/n)." 

Your heart did a little jump at how easily the words rolled off his tongue, heat rushing to your cheeks. You got distracted by his words, too busy calming the butterflies in your stomach to notice him reaching for the knife. It scraped against the wood as he lifted it, startling you back to the present. 

"No!" Your hands reached out to hold his wrist, untangling the knife from between his fingers and safely depositing it back on the wooden board. 

He looked at you, eyebrows raised and his mouth forming a surprised 'o'. "Baby?" 

He had seemed so excited to cook for you; you almost gave in and left him to do as he pleased. But then you remembered the last time he wanted to make you a meal, having to evacuate his apartment as smoke took over the rooms; he had to buy a new stovetop. And the time he decided it would be a great idea to use the biggest knife he could find to chop an apple and had to get seven stitches. Moral of the story: Choi San should not be allowed in the kitchen. 

"Let's just order in." You wrapped your arms around one of his, feeling his biceps flex against your chest. 

His bottom lip jutted out, eyebrows drawing in. "But I want to cook for you. I even asked your mum for the recipe." 

Your heart clenched so hard at the visual of San putting his phone on speaker to write down the recipe your mother was dictating to him, his tongue poking out the corner of his lips in concentration. You almost doubled over simply imagining it. Looking up at him, your heart did that funny thing again as you met his sulky expression – eyes staring off to the side, wrinkles between his eyebrows, fiddling his fingers where they sat on the island. You wanted to kiss his pout away but held yourself back – you didn't want to start a cycle of germ-sharing (again). Deciding to spare him from the harsh truth – that his cooking might send you to the afterlife before any virus could – you tell a little, white lie.

"But I reeaaally want tteokbokki," you mirror his pouty lips, tugging at his arm. "I haven't craved anything in days, Sannie, pleease?" 

You smiled to yourself, sitting on the couch, huddled between three different blankets, pillows surrounding you from every direction. San shut the front door, carrying the bag of takeout into the living room and setting it on the table in front of you. 

"Okay! Let's eat." He rubbed his palms together, untying the plastic bag and taking the containers out.

He sat on the table in front of you, breaking apart the chopsticks and balancing the container on his knees. Scooping up a rice cake, he rolled it in the sauce and brought it to your lips. "Open up." 

He looked overjoyed, like a puppy who finally got to go on a walk after having to wait all night for his owners to wake up. You did as he said, biting on the chewy rice cake, sighing as you swallowed, warmth spreading through you.

"Sannie, come sit next to me," you patted the cushion next to you, tugging on his sleeve from where you were, drowning between the fleece blankets he had wrapped you in. 

"But I want to feed you!" He complained, already working on grabbing more food with the chopsticks, stuffing it in your mouth before you could argue.

"Fine," you pouted as you chewed. "But you should eat too," you spoke, words muffled as San continued to shovel tteokbokki into your mouth. 

He only smiled, grabbing his own chopsticks and taking a bite from his portion, turning back around to feed you like God himself had ordered him to. 

"Shlow down-" You sucked in desperate breaths through the food blocking your airway, almost choking, San rubbing your back until you swallowed it down. You smacked his arm and he yelped, rubbing over his bicep. "I can't breath through my nose, are you trying to kill me?"

He muttered a quiet sorry, but the restrained smile on his lips, threatening to erupt into a whole-hearted grin, made you believe otherwise – that he wasn’t as sorry as he had claimed to be. But you couldn't be mad at him, secretly enjoying all the attention he was so generously giving you, not allowing you to lift a finger, showering you with his never-ending love. How could you ever complain? 

After San finished feeding you your portion of tteokbokki – and half of his – you finally managed to pull him onto the couch with you. His arms circled around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. The Greatest Showman played on the TV across from you, and you settled on listening to San’s soft voice as he hummed along to the songs, his chest vibrating against your temple. His fingers ran through your now-dry hair, the back of your neck tingling at his ministrations.

Your eyes began to droop as the credits rolled in, blinking quickly to stop yourself from falling asleep. San twisted his neck to peek at you, trying his best to remain still in case you had fallen asleep. He breathed out a laugh through his nostrils, squeezing your shoulder and effectively pushing you closer into his chest. 

“Does my darling want to sleep?”

You hummed, nuzzling your face into his neck, the skin warm against the tip of your nose. "Just want to cuddle," you slurred.

San's smile threatened to split his face in half. “Not that I’m not enjoying being your pillow, but I think we’d be more comfortable in bed.” He poked at your sides, making you squirm in his arms.

“Shhh, you’re hurting my head,” your fingers pawed at his face, trying to manually shut his lips, only to be met with his toothy smile.

Your hand dropped onto the shoulder opposite to the one your head rested on, eyelids falling shut despite your attempts at fighting your drowsiness. Inhaling the soft scent of bergamot diffusing off San’s skin, his fingers never ceasing their ministrations in your hair, you felt yourself slip into much-needed slumber, the fatigue encircling your body fading away as you lay within San’s embrace.

San felt as your body slumped against his, the steady rise and fall of your chest. He unfurled his fingers from your soft locks, wrapping his arm around your middle-back. With the other secured behind your knees, he rose to his feet, cradling you against his body and making his way to your bedroom. He made the fatal mistake of looking down at your resting face, noticing the smudge of tteokbokki at the corner of your parted lips, soft puffs of air blowing against the cotton of his shirt. He stood there, head tilted back with his eyes squeezed shut, holding himself back from smothering your face with kisses.  

You were so cute.

San forced himself to move, walking into your room and setting you down on the mattress. He pulled out a wet wipe from your drawer, wiping the remnants of your dinner from your lips, his eye twitching as he stopped himself from placing a kiss against the plush of your lips. Climbing into bed with you, he moved you into his arms again, wrapping you up in his warmth and pressing his lips against your forehead. San relished the feeling of the warm puffs of air against his neck, inhaling the floral scent of your shampoo while sleep tugged at his eyelids. He held you tightly, nuzzling his cheek against yours as he felt himself being dragged into slumber, hoping to meet you in his dreams.

apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[sm-entertain-me]

Kingdom Come (M)

Synopsis: Prince Minho was feeling the pressure of finding a woman suitable enough to produce him a much needed heir if he were to continue his lineage. If not, he would have to relinquish his throne and destroy the dynasty the Lee’s have worked so hard to maintain.

Contains: Lee Minho x (f) reader, adult language, slight angst, smut, explicit depictions of unprotected sex, breeding kink, fingering, choking, multiple orgasms, creampie, Prince!Minho, Maid!reader, royalty!au.

An eerie silence filled the halls as the Lees were whisked away to their chambers, holding an intense debate with their troublesome son who just so happened to be the one to inherit the throne. They had been in a deadlock with their son over whether or not he would be competent enough to produce an heir, since he hadn’t even began to court any of the maidens dying to climb into bed with him to birth him a son. But that’s the very reason Prince Minho hadn’t found the right maiden, he didn’t want a woman who would just jump into bed with him at the drop of a hat. He wanted to at least feel something.

“This isn’t up for debate anymore Minho,” Emperor Lee bellowed to his son as he stood defiantly in front of his father, refusing to look him in the eye as he focused on his father’s shoes instead. Minho’s mother could be seen attempting to reach over to her husband and place a calming hand on his arm, but he shook her off as he continued to lash out at his son. “You need to hurry up and pick someone to give you a son. I don’t even care if it’s some random wench at the tavern for a quick romp in the hay, you need to have a son if you want to continue our lineage! We refuse to let our dynasty die with you!”

The Emperor’s voice boomed out through the halls of the palace, alerting every last servant of the family’s current affairs despite them ordering complete and utter privacy. Despite the boisterous and intimidating tone of his father’s demands, Minho simply glared into his father’s eyes without uttering a single word. Minho then bowed to his mother but refused to even acknowledge his father’s presence as he turned his back to them, swiftly exiting the main hall nd making his way to the maid’s chambers to seek out the one person who knew his family’s dilemmas more than anyone in the palace: you.

Once outside of the maid’s chambers, Minho turned to his guards that were following him closely to ensure nothing bad would happen to his wellbeing, nodding at them to stay here since he didn’t need any protection in these chambers. The guards returned his nod and proceeded to back off, giving him some space as he knocked on the door, hoping that you would be inside. As the iron door creaked open, all of Minho’s apprehension melted away once his eyes rested upon your innocent features. 

“Prince Minho! What a lovely surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure, your highness?” You asked with a kind smile, quickly bowing your head to Minho to show your respect and adoration for the Lee family. As you returned to your upright position, you noticed that Minho hadn’t bothered to say anything and was instead studying your features as if he was unsure of his actions. He finally seemed to get himself together once he noticed that were just standing there in awkward silence, twiddling your thumbs nervously as Minho was just staring at you without saying a word.

“Forgive me, Y/N. I was wondering if you would like to join me on a walk to my bedroom? There are some, “princely” things I would like to discuss with you since I value your opinion very much,” Minho finally breathed out, offering you a kind smile as he took your hands in his. As his thumbs rubbed the tops of your hands, you couldn’t help but let out a bashful giggle from his surprisingly delicate touches. Throughout all the years you’ve been serving the Lee family, Minho had always been viewed as the cold black sheep of the family, but he had always had a soft spot for you when some of the guards were harassing you in the courtyard, him immediately stepping in and warding them off. You two had grown closer ever since.

Realizing that you still hadn’t given Minho a proper answer, you finally nodded your head and allowed Minho to hook his arm with you to lead you through the halls. As the two of you strolled through the palace, you caught the eyes of all the other maids and smirked when you saw the jealousy flash through their eyes. Each of them would kill to have Minho leading them on a casual stroll through the palace, let alone in the direction of his bedroom. 

As the two of you entered Minho’s bedroom, he motioned for you to make yourself comfortable while he dressed down in the adjacent bathroom separated by a thin screen. Nodding at his simple request, you decided to take your seat at the foot of his lavish bed, keeping your ankles crossed and flattering out your uniform to make sure you didn’t look too unkempt from your daily cleaning duties. This was the very first time you were in Minho’s bedroom without your cleaning tools or without a serving cart to serve him some of his favorite meals, doing everything you could to make sure you looked presentable enough to be in Minho’s presence despite this being a casual gathering.

Sitting gingerly at the very edge of Minho’s bed, you finally heard him approaching from the bathroom, you turning to him and offering him a kind smile as he traveled to the opposite side of you. Minho looked dashing in his palace clothes but he somehow looked even more princely in his casual clothes, mostly due to him looking so relaxed instead of being caught up in his royal duties. Which is why he brought you here, to discuss a particularly interesting detail of his royal duties that he thinks you would be perfect for.

Minho seemed hesitant as he swallowed harshly, slightly embarrassed that he had to discuss something like this with you, but still persisted nevertheless. Finally gathering his thoughts and pushing his feelings aside, Minho reached out and held onto your hand as he spoke,  “As I’m sure you heard earlier, my parents have been embarrassingly relentless in pressuring me to producing an heir. They think I should just sleep with some random wench at the tavern and call it a day, but I wanted to have a son with someone I would actually enjoy having a son with... That’s why I asked you here.”

You felt your eyes widen to the maximum width they could go, shocked that Minho would ask you something like this. There were so many other maidens in the court that seemed much more deserving, many of them having higher social statuses than you since you were just a maid. As if Minho could read your exact thoughts, he moved closer to you and made sure to keep holding your hand in his tender grasp while he took the other hand and placed it gingerly on the side of your face, speaking soft words of affirmation, “I don’t want any of the other maidens of the court; I want you.”

“Minho I... I don’t know what to say,” You admitted with a nervous voice, not knowing how to approach the situation. You had been close with Minho for over ten years when your mother was first serving the Lee’s, bringing you with her when you were of age to scrub the palace floors. While you had always dreamed about acting on your feelings towards Minho, you were just a lowly servant girl and he was a prince. Your union would never be accepted by the public. “What will your parents think of having their servant carrying the future of their dynasty?”

“It doesn’t matter what they think Y/N, I will make sure you and our child are well taken care of. The only thing my parents care about is whether or not we have a son,” Minho reasoned with you, continuing to stroke your cheek in a calming matter while staring at you in adoration. Without another word, Minho decided that he had restrained himself for far too long, closing the gap between your lips while his hand remained on the side of your cheek to stroke the skin softly. As his pillowy soft lips connected with yours, you could feel all of your worries float into thin air as you relaxed into Minho’s grasp. Perhaps you carrying the future of the Lee dynasty wouldn’t be too bad.

Minho felt your body relax in his grasp, hinting at him to have his way with you, but he still wanted to make sure as he pulled himself away from you, staring into your eyes as he asked, “Are you absolutely sure you want to be carrying my child? Once we do this, we can never go back.” All Minho needed was for you to nod vigorously at his question, his lips turning up into a devious smirk as he closed the gap between your lips, this time with much more fervor than before.

You allowed Minho to grab at your waist and pin you underneath him, Minho making sure you were comfortable while placing a second pillow under your head for more cushion for what he had in store for you. As Minho’s lips danced along yours, you could feel his hands sliding down your abdomen, traveling all the way south until he grabbed the bottom of your dress to pull it above your hip bones. Minho felt your lips form a smile against his as you felt his fingers slip past the band of your undergarments, you spreading your legs slightly to allow for Minho to have more access to the best parts of you.

When Minho’s fingers rested at your entrance, he tore his lips away from yours in order to fixate his eyes on his fingers about to plunge inside of you for the very first time. Minho slowly pushed two lengthy digits inside of your steadily dripping heat, immediately curling his fingers up to see which spots made you cry out in pure pleasure. He seemed to have found your sweet spot immediately by the way you arched your back off of the mattress and gripped the sheets below you, Minho smirking at your reaction as he exploited that one spot.

As Minho’s fingers were working you open enough to hopefully take his member that was straining against his trousers, you reached up to grab desperately at Minho’s shoulders to pull him in for a passionate kiss. This time when your lips met, Minho shed all of his barriers and kissed you roughly, biting on your bottom lip as his fingers tapped expertly inside of you while his thumb rubbed your clit sinfully. He had no problem with showing you all the pent up sexual frustration he had been feeling towards you all these years.

You didn’t have time to warn Minho of your impending orgasm as you were already sent headfirst into your first of the night, arching your back off of the mattress and crying out for Minho as he continued his come hither motion against your throbbing walls. Words couldn’t be formed, only pieces of them as you succumbed to your desires, feeling your thighs tremble from the continuous feeling of Minho’s fingers stuffed inside of you. Even the slightest motion of Minho’s fingers would have you screaming from how good he managed to make you feel. It was baffling.

When Minho was finally satisfied with how much your thighs were trembling from his motions, he finally pulled his fingers out of your pulsing heat as a way of showing you mercy. As you were busy trying to collect yourself from the intense high that Minho brought you to, you couldn’t help but notice the way that Minho was staring at your features, never saying a word as his eyes would flicker from your lips to your jaw, then back up to your eyes. This small action caused a blush to spread across your cheeks, something that Minho picked up on as he leaned down to plant a firm kiss on your lips before removing himself from the bed to rid him of his clothes.

The soft sound of clothing hitting the wooden floor got your attention as you looked over in the direction of the sound, pleased with the sight of Minho’s godlike physique being on full display. You actually moaned out from seeing Minho in the nude, focusing mainly on his thick cock that was being stroked lazily in his hand. You couldn’t believe that the prince was about to have his way with you after all these years of using his hand instead of your walls, him smirking deviously at you as his kind demeanor shifted into something darker.

Minho no longer cared about the pleasantries or the formalities of being royalty, stalking towards you with nothing but lust on his brain as he joined you on the bed, his hands immediately gripping the frail laces of your bodice before yanking the fabric off of your body. This allowed him easier access to your dress as he smirked at the flimsy fabric, holding the fabric and tearing it from your body to free your breasts that were already barely contained. Once Minho’s eyes were graced by the presence of your plump breasts, he immediately leaned down to kiss in between them before muttering into the valley of your breasts, “Absolutely perfect, and all mine tonight.”

Making sure you were prepared for everything that Minho could give to you tonight, Minho’s fingers toyed with your entrance while he kissed along your neck to hear you moan out wantonly. Feeling Minho’s lips against your lips form a deep smile, Minnho made sure to drag his teeth along your neck to distract you from him gripping your hips rather harshly to sink his hardened cock into your aching folds.

“H-Holy fuck, you feel absolutely divine,” Minho stammered while you struggled to keep your moans to a minimum, Minho refusing to move his hips until he was sure both you and himself could continue. You were taking a little bit longer to get your wits about you as your mind was racing a mile a minute, euphoric sensations pulsing through you at unforgiving speeds. This was apparent by the way your eyebrows were knitted together and how your jaw was now hanging permanently open, but not being able to form a coherent sentence. Not only did Minho think you felt divine, you looked divine in this position as well.

“Minho... You can move now,” You begged silently into his shoulder as he pressed his chest to yours in order to hold you through the sensations ripping through you, making sure you were okay before he moved. After you granted him permission, he made sure to give your neck tender kisses to ease you through any pain you would feel as his hips drew out slowly, pushing back into you so that he was now buried to the hilt inside of you.

Hesitant thrusts of exploration quickly delved into sinful passion as Minho responded to your moans and heavy breathing, Minho pinning your hips to the comforter below you to anchor you in place for you to take every inch of him as he intended. Minho was acting on his own desires, fueled by the sounds of his hips smacking into yours from below as he was determined to leave his mark on your neck as well as inside your slick heat. He already managed to litter your neck with shades of reds and soft pinks from his lips, so it was only a matter of time before he would leave his mark elsewhere.

“You feel so fucking good, so happy you said yes to bearing my son. I’m gonna fuck you so full of my cum that there’s no denying having my children,” Minho grunted into your ear as he reached down in between your bodies to rest his hand on your lower stomach, thrusting harshly into your cunt so he could feel himself brush against his hand. This seemed to turn Minho on even more by the way he threw his head back and how his hips were snapping wildly into your backside from the angle he held you in. 

Sounds of skin smacking skin filled the room as well as the sound of Minho’s headboard creaking mercilessly against the wall, Minho thrusting every single inch of his addicting member inside of you to the point where you were starting to see stars. He was determined to bring you to your personal heaven as Minho decided to try something that he wasn’t sure was going to help you or scare you, but still persisted nevertheless.

Succumbing to his desires, Minho placed his hand on your throat to cradle either side of your marked column, careful not to apply pressure to your main arteries. As Minho looked down to make sure that his actions were approved by you, he was pleasantly surprised to see your eyes rolling in the back of your head from the sensation as you silently begged for more. The feeling of your oxygen supply being restricted further emphasized the feelings of pleasure that spread through you like wildfire, bringing you to orgasm much faster than either you or Minho could comprehend.

“Minho!” You cried out to the heaven above as you felt your second orgasm rip through you, feeling your walls tremble ruthlessly around Minho’s length as you gave into every single sensation imaginable. Your back no longer had any contact with the bed below you from the angle you arched your back, your nails digging into Minho’s skin as you tried everything you could to bring Minho to your level. Having already gone through two astronomical orgasms at the hands of Minho, you weren’t sure how much longer you could absorb Minho’s addictive thrusts. “Minho please...”

Hearing your pleas, Minho looked down to admire your fucked out face in all of its glory. Eyes hooded in pure euphoria coupled with your swollen lips from Minho’s tender kisses had Minho feeling some type of way as you could feel his hips lose rhythm, trying his best to combat his orgasm for a little bit longer to continue to feel your walls suffocate his cock. But Minho couldn’t hold on anymore as he finally gave in to the all but innocent thoughts running through his mind, thrusting particularly deep inside of you as he released his seed deep inside of you.

As you two were trying to get your bearings together from the pleasure that still pulsed through both of you at unexplainable magnitudes, you noticed that Minho was staring deeply into your eyes. Minho’s hand then came out to caress your face, softly rubbing his thumb against your cheek as he leaned in to press a kiss to your slightly damp forehead. While his lips were still against your forehead, Minho mumbled against your skin, “Thank you for this, you truly don’t know what you’ve done for me and how much this means to me.”

--- Ten Months Later ---

The sun cascaded lightly over the sheets of the bed as you heard the figure next to you stir, the slight movements along the down comforter causing you to grumble out at the source of the movement. Keeping your eyes closed in hopes that you would be able to get some much needed sleep after last coronation ceremony, you were quickly interrupted by the feeling of strong arms wrapping tightly around your waist as a pair of lips nipped at your earlobe, “Good morning to you too, my Princess.”

Chuckling softly in Minho’s arms, you were about to respond to Minho until you heard the soft cries of your son in the adjacent room. Usually you were the one who tended to the needs of your son, but Minho had noticed how tired you were last night and took it upon himself to rise from bed, offering you a kiss to the top of your head as he headed towards his crying son. Although you wanted to stay in bed and enjoy the alone time, you couldn’t help but wonder what Minho would look like consoling his infant son in the early hours of the morning.

Quietly stepping towards the adjacent room after dressing yourself in your silk robe, you peeked your head through the door to be delighted with the sight of Minho holding his son, staring at his face with nothing but adoration while cooing. Minho was absolutely enamored with the child in his arms, smiling brightly as he offered his finger for his son to gleefully grab onto. Knowing that you had been watching Minho interact with his adorable son, Minho finally decided to look up at you to acknowledge your presence before declaring with a cheeky grin, 

“Let’s have another.”

[allyreactions]

Stray Kids Headcanon | How He Acts Around His Crush { Seo Changbin }

MASTERLIST // requests : open

! please read my guidelines before requesting !

♡ pairings ;  Seo Changbin x gender neutral reader

♡ genre ; fluffy fluff

♡ word count ; 0.4k

║ A/N : ngl this made me soft

~ Admin Ally

⇢ Binnie is such a sweet boy, we all know this

⇢ I have a strong feeling that he would be the biggest simp

⇢ but he would pretend like he's not

⇢ and boy will that backfire

⇢ whenever you would walk into the room, Changbin would switch up his demeanor

⇢ he'd try and be the cool guy, act all chill and confident

⇢ "hey, y/n! whatssup?"

⇢ and he'd say that with a little head nod

⇢ idk why but I feel like Changbin would get some tips on how to act cool from Chan

⇢ even though he tries to act all cool, everyone in the room has heard him talk about you

⇢ you'd sit next to him and continue a conversation with Bin

⇢ and all the while the other members are just giggling because they obviously know about his enormous crush on you

⇢ and you'd of course be clueless and ignore it

⇢ the two of you would engage in some deep conversations from time to time

⇢ you would talk about your interests and passions and Changbin would do the same

⇢ he'll take any chance he can to get to know you better

⇢ "wow, that's so cool that you're into that ... tell me more"

⇢ and oh the heart eyes this guy has

⇢ I told you he's a simp

⇢ he'd be hanging on your every word, completely enthralled by the conversation

⇢ his eyes would sparkle, his smile was bright, the man just glows when he's around you

⇢ like I said, he tries to be chill, but he's not so subtle when it comes to his emotions

⇢ his face gives everything away

⇢ whenever you aren't together, Bin can't help but think about you

⇢ he can't get his mind off you

⇢ this man is whipped, I'm telling you

⇢ he'd ask the other members for advice on how to confess his feelings for you

⇢ again, I think he would mainly go to Chan for this

⇢ he'd wanna know if there were any signs you had given him that show you're interested

⇢ and one day he'd muster up all the courage and confidence he could to ask you out

⇢ "y/n, I've liked you for a while now and I was wondering if you felt the same way .. would you like to go out with me sometime?"

⇢ for the most part, he'd be pretty relaxed on the outside

⇢ but his palms would be a little sweaty and his heart would be racing as he patiently anticipates your response

⇢ and when you agree to go out with him, he would be so happy

⇢ Bin would be on cloud 9

⇢ he would maintain his composure and withhold most of his excitement

⇢ but the smile on his face says enough, he couldn't be happier

⇢ "so .. how about friday night?"

[atinytokki]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Chapter 11: Call to Action

The sun was a few hours off from sinking, and reflected brightly off the water when Eden glanced outside to starboard.

Maddox hadn’t spoken to him aside from the bare minimum needed for orders in the past few days.

Eden knew he was processing everything as well as he could— reuniting the crew, Hongjoong being alive, supernatural occurrences— but still he sought him out when he felt the air had grown too tense and gave his quartermaster an outlet to take things out on.

“The wind is with us today,” he remarked casually, sneaking up on Maddox where he stood at the railing and watched the ship’s wake flow continuously alongside them.

“A good sign,” Maddox agreed, eyes still fixed below. When one too many moments of silence passed by, he finally turned to look at his captain. “Did you come to give orders?”

Eden shook his head and let Maddox slowly realise he had come just to talk.

“Strange, isn’t it?” The quartermaster finally said, restless. “Look at us. In our prime and sidelined from the fight for our existence.”

“It feels familiar,” Eden acknowledged. “I don’t like it.”

After all, he had been useless on the Mystic’s island for months, and self-isolated in the east for even longer. It was time for that to change.

“This isn’t like it was back then,” Maddox sighed, searching his face before explaining. “The pirate islands are more than unified, they’re fervently preparing for battle. Sure, they rallied around you before. But this…”

“Hongjoong renewed that hope?” Eden finished for him, no hesitation colouring his voice. He knew what his former apprentice was capable of.

Maddox nodded and a fond smile was on his face. “They’ll be singing anthems for him. His whole crew, really. They’re survivors, all of them.”

Eden had only met them for a short time what felt like ages ago now, but they had the same drive that connected them even then. It made sense that they had found each other.

Sometimes, when he thought of Hongjoong he thought of the orphan on the beach, a hollowed out husk who had thought there was nothing left for him in life.

It was hard to imagine a person he’d seen grow firsthand becoming a symbol practically overnight.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let the world know he was alive sooner,” Eden confessed, slowly and heavily as the implications washed over him. “We need to find him.”

“No,” Maddox cut him off, and it stunned him for a moment, but he let the quartermaster go on. “His crew needs to find him. They will settle for nothing less. I’ve felt their pain and, at the same time, it surpasses me. They have a connection so deep I can hardly understand it, Eden. One closer and stronger than ours.”

The captain wanted to protest, but he knew Maddox was right. “We split up because we didn’t feel like a crew anymore,” he tried to explain for his quartermaster. “With Hongjoong gone, I thought I had failed. And even when I heard news of a Pirate King… I realised that you were right all along. By taking him under my wing, I both saved him and ruined him.”

Everyone had known the Dread Pirate had been in a dark place ever since the fire ship ambush, but Maddox had missed his final abandonment of the Stardust crew when he was imprisoned on that island by the Navy.

“I knew you were alive, thanks to Youngsaeng’s letters,” Maddox recounted, cold eyes accusing him. “But I was left behind, Eden. I don’t like being left behind.”

The truth was trickling out bit by bit, like sand grains poured out of a bottle.

“I want it to be like it used to,” he continued, gaze on the western horizon where the sun was nearing the water. “When we had Hongjoong with us.”

Eden had felt the same way when he encountered the ATEEZ. Hongjoong wasn’t a boy anymore, but it had been strange to be under his authority instead of the reverse. He’d been through so much, more than he had the last time Eden saw him, and every moment of loneliness, every scar sustained between those meetings had a profound impact on who he was now.

Eden knew he needed to speak with him again, whether Hongjoong wanted him or not.

“He has his own crew now,” he reminded Maddox. “I don’t like being left behind either, but we can still be there for him. Just maybe from the sidelines this time.”

He would make it up to him. He would make it up to his whole crew on the ATEEZ, as well as his own. His absence had brought them about, it was only right that he respond to their bravery the way that dozens of captains had decided to on Geobugi; by being present.

As if in answer, the shrill call of a hawk approaching from the southeast reached their ears.

“A messenger bird!” Youngsaeng called, collecting the hawk when it swooped toward him in the rigging and landed gently on his arm.

It carried a message from the ATEEZ, and Eden hurried to read it.

Quickly skimming the page, he interpreted the coded instructions and turned to report them to his crew.

“They’ve run into trouble,” he said simply. The nature of that trouble was unclear, but they had made a promise and it was time to keep it.

“Change our course, we’re going to Ama.”

___

“So how do we get to Ama, exactly?”

Yunho kept protective arms over the charts as he sat in the longboat, bobbing gently up and down with the waves as they worked along side the hull of the ATEEZ.

He motioned to the map in response to Jongho’s question and replied, “I’m hoping this will tell me, given all the trouble we went through to get it.”

“Pass me three gripfast nails,” Seonghwa interrupted, holding out a hand expectantly and keeping the other one in place where he’d positioned a plank to take the place of a damaged one.

Mingi’s sailing in the currents had done a number on their hull.

“Which ones are those?” Jongho asked, flustered, as he pawed through the piles of  supplies they’d brought in the boat with them.

“No, use ringshanks! They’ll hold better!” San called down from the main deck, where he was walking around the ship with Mingi, trying to readjust his leg to the motion.

“Why don’t you come down here and do it yourself, then?” Seonghwa whined, loud enough to be heard on the deck but not really expecting a response.

“I happen to be occupied at the moment!” San shot back before his head disappeared and he resumed his stroll with Mingi.

“I don’t know what a ringshank is either,” Jongho deadpanned, moving out of the way when Seonghwa simply reached over and grabbed the nail San had suggested.

“Does anyone have the slightest idea how to set a course for such a tiny island without missing it?” Yunho sighed as he looked up at his two longboat companions, both of them blank-faced.

It seemed everyone was trying to do everyone else’s job, and all their hands were full.

Not for the first time, Yunho wished they had their missing members. He would have to apply himself in order to get the ATEEZ to its destination, and hopefully find them soon enough.

“No, but Mingi might,” Jongho pointed out. “Didn’t he do some navigation work with Hongjoong before Yeosang came on?”

“Mingi needs to heal, let him rest,” Seonghwa scolded quietly from where he drilled boards into place methodically, focused on his work even as he listened to the conversation around him. “I can take a look if I must. Yeosang showed me his charts a few times.”

Desperate for help of any kind, and always at ease when Seonghwa was guiding him, whether it was his area of expertise or not, Yunho gladly scooted over on the bench and braced for the boat to rock as his hyung stood from the bow and moved to where he held maps.

“Patch this up, will you?” Seonghwa requested, handing Jongho the hammer and nails as he passed him.

“Right,” Jongho smacked his lips before turning to the hull and trying to figure out how best to  continue fastening the planks on effectively.

“I believe this is where we are,” Yunho updated the boatswain quickly, pointing to the surrounding atoll and then to the plot on the map. “In terms of time, that’s two days off or thereabouts from Ama. But any  deviation even a point to one direction could send us wildly off course, even with the stars to follow.”

He pulled the star map out next, letting Seonghwa take a good look and shifting it to the side when he nodded.

“It’s a bit more difficult to correctly aim for such a small place on the map when all we’ve had to do thus far is head due south.”

“How did you manage to get from the mystic’s island to Namhae?” Seonghwa asked, setting the charts side by side.

“We argued about it,” Yunho summarised with a snort. “And then we prayed and hung on while the storm blowed us towards the island. It’s like Hongjoong always says—”

Seonghwa swallowed and looked away.

“Well, said ,” Yunho corrected. “Sometimes the ocean wants us to get somewhere, and sometimes it doesn’t.”

“And when San left the inn at Namhae without any charts, stole a boat, and escaped the Navy?” Seonghwa pointed out. “How did he manage that?”

“He kept the coast in view the whole time,” Jongho supplied as he drove a nail into the plank with relative ease in one powerful stroke. “And he sailed too far south, in fact. Right into Haemin territory.”

“Do I hear someone slandering me down there?” San’s voice called, and again he poked his head over the rail and looked down at them, Mingi mirroring him.

Seonghwa changed the topic quickly as soon as he saw the quartermaster.

“Oh, Mingi! You’re good at arithmetic,” he pointed out, standing with the charts and tucking them under his arm so he could climb up to the deck. “Would you mind helping with some calculations? Otherwise we might end up missing the island entirely.”

Yunho watched him go, relieved, and then simply sat back and folded his arms. The burden of navigation was off his shoulders for now.

The call of a seabird disturbed his peace when he let his eyes drift shut as the boat rocked gently.

It landed on the water some distance away and Yunho watched it dive below the waves and come back up swiftly, something in its beak.

“There’s a school of fish over there,” he remarked dully to a distracted Jongho, still pounding away at the hull of the ATEEZ.

Yunho’s suspicions were confirmed when another pair of birds dived in and caught fish for themselves. The flock was growing and Yunho continued to watch with mild interest as the ecosystem of this particular lagoon was on display.

“Bad news,” said Jongho succinctly after sticking his head underwater to check the lower damage. “There’s a cut below the waterline. It may be leaking into the crew compartment, I don’t know.”

“I think they would’ve come complaining if it was,” Yunho snorted. “Hongjoong’s failsafe layer must’ve worked.”

Just like Seonghwa, Jongho pursed his lips and avoided Yunho’s gaze at the mention of their captain.

Yunho had no chance to insist to them both that it was fine to mention Hongjoong’s name, that acting like he never existed was only serving to hurt them all more. Jongho charged ahead and started explaining, “We can fother a sail over it, which may or may not work and will certainly take up time. Or I can swim down and patch it up myself, which, considering the fact that I can breathe underwater, wouldn’t waste resources and wouldn’t be too difficult.”

Yunho sighed through his nose at Jongho’s textbook method of deflecting his emotions with rational observation, the way he always did, but considered the idea nonetheless.

The flock of birds attacking unseen fish had increased in size and the entire cluster was floating their direction.

“Seonghwa won’t approve,” came the obvious objection. “It’s turned into a full-blown feeding frenzy over there. There might be sharks.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Jongho smirked, and the smile was such a brief flash of the mischievous boy Yunho remembered from before that he couldn’t bring himself to protest further.

Yunho just wanted to see him happy again.

If they weren’t being attacked with sea creatures and enemies, they were tearing themselves apart on the inside.

“Alright, be careful,” Yunho gave his permission officially, knowing Jongho didn’t need it and might have gone ahead regardless.

Without another word, Jongho pocketed a fistful of nails and dived below the waves, board in hand.

Now Yunho was alone to watch anxiously from the boat and wait for the job to be done. The flock of gulls was steadily advancing on their longboat’s position, and he could now see the dark mass under the waves, undoubtedly a school of fish being picked off one by one.

“Jongho, hurry,” he muttered, knowing the master-at-arms wouldn’t respond anyway.

Yunho was leaning over the edge of the boat to see, tipping it accidentally and then jerking back to avoid falling in, and his straw hat fell off and disappeared below the waves. Unfortunately, unlike Jongho, Yunho did not have the supernatural ability to breathe underwater.

A moment later, the hat shot up from the water and was tossed toward the longboat. Yunho caught it and turned to see Jongho surface and climb into the boat again, rocking it a bit too much for comfort.

“Are you alright?” Yunho asked quickly, checking for any sign of injury, whether a breathing issue, collision with the boat, or animal attack.

“Fine,” Jongho waved off his helping hand. “You’re starting to sound like Seonghwa.”

“You know he’ll blame himself if anything happens to us,” reminded Yunho gently as he packed the supplies away. “Clearly he hasn’t stopped shouldering responsibility for everything since Hongjoong—”

“I see what you mean,” Jongho confirmed with a subtle nod, hearing Seonghwa approach and look down at them from the deck.

“We have our heading,” the boatswain informed them. “Are the repairs finished?”

“Yes,” Yunho called back. “But I don’t think we want to stick around and explore the lagoon.”

When Seonghwa tilted his head, not knowing what he referred to, Yunho pointed out at the flock until Seonghwa took note of the feeding frenzy.

“I’d rather not be lowered a few pegs on the food chain,” he quipped to keep the boatswain from panicking.

“Right,” said Seonghwa curtly before turning to the crewmen presumably on the deck behind him. “Haul them in.”

As they secured the ropes to the longboat and allowed themselves to be pulled up and swung over the rail, Yunho and Jongho gave each other a meaningful look.

Anxiety and dogged pursuit were taking over, and it wouldn’t be long before things reached a breaking point.

“Were there rocks visible near the lagoon entrance?” Seonghwa asked as he helped them out of the boat.

“Not that I saw,” Jongho answered, not divulging the fact that he’d gotten a look from underwater as well as above.

“Let’s leave tomorrow at high water then,” Seonghwa suggested, eyes on the horizon. “Just in case.”

___

It was deathly quiet.

Neither the calling of birdsong nor the crashing of waves reached Hongjoong’s ears as he lay in the sand, hot sun scorching his closed eyes.

He kept them screwed shut as fragments returned to him, pieces of the events that had led to his waking here, somewhere eerily silent.

And still, this was too familiar.

It had been three times now. Three times that he washed ashore, having lost everything.

Once on his side with a bleeding head, the morning after his parents had drowned in the typhoon. A second time on his face, the afternoon after the Stardust had been sunk with the navy’s fire ships.

From the sound of things, Hongjoong had washed up again on yet another deserted beach, but not deserted by choice.

His memory began to return as a few fingers twitched to feel the ground beneath him. This time he was on his back.

It had been the wave.

Such a sudden force of nature had required his full attention and teamwork from the soldiers.

As his thoughts turned to Wooyoung and Yeosang, Hongjoong’s eyes wrenched open.

The sky was still that blinding blue, though a pair of hazy clouds stretched across it. No trees filled in the edges of his peripheral vision.

He wasn’t on the deck of the Black Crow, which meant he had been washed away from it and somehow survived.

If Yeosang and Wooyoung were trapped below—

No.

No, they couldn’t be…

History would not repeat itself a third time.

Throat dry and strained, he tried calling out their names.

It took a few tries, but rolling over onto his knees, Hongjoong pushed himself into a kneeling position and glanced around to catch sight of them.

There was nothing, no one. Complete and utter destruction, as far inland as the jungle that stretched through the middle of the island.

Hongjoong’s jaw dropped as he took stock of it; structures toppled, boats washed inland, trees bent sideways, and the silence—

The silence was deafening.

As long as he looked for it, he found no sign of human life other than his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Underneath him was grainy dirt, not sand, and it was with growing dread that Hongjoong realised he hadn’t even washed up on the beach.

There was no beach.

Finally staggering to his feet, Hongjoong turned towards the jungle, hoping the Black Crow was hidden there amongst the trees— the only trees still standing within a mile radius.

Anything else was either flattened, or under the surge of ocean water that no doubt would begin to recede in the coming hours.

Pushing through the pain of straining an already exhausted body, Hongjoong searched under every boat wreckage he found, so many of them smashed to bits that any of them could be part of the Crow without his realising it.

More than a few lifeless faces stared back at him when he uncovered their dead bodies, quickly moving on while pushing away the thought that Yeosang or Wooyoung could be next.

The ocean dare not take anyone else from him.

With growing frustration, Hongjoong ripped a cabin door off its hinges and peeked inside, finally discovering the bodies of their Haemin captors. It seemed they’d had the same idea to put to sea in another boat, only setting out much too late and being caught in the second surge.

He tossed the door to the side and moved on.

Past the first few trees, a coughing sound caught his attention.

He wasn’t alone.

“Hello?” He called back, willing his legs to carry him up the hill before they gave out. “Who’s there?”

Though they didn’t seem to hear him, the person coughed again and, rounding a corner, Hongjoong finally found the source of the voice.

“Wooyoung!”

There he was laying in the dirt on his side, racked by a cough that looked painful, jostling his healing ribs.

The gunner gasped in surprise at Hongjoong running up and hugging him, partially from the suddenness of the affection and partially from relief.

After a moment, he lifted his arms to return the hug before asking in a gravelly croak, “Where’s Yeosang?”

Hongjoong shot back and searched Wooyoung’s face before admitting, “I haven’t found him yet. You were together, right?”

Wooyoung nodded and painfully sat up. “We tried to escape the flooded decks, but water rushed in through the hatch and we… we must’ve floated out at some point…”

Resisting the urge to bite his lip anxiously, Hongjoong swept his eyes over the surrounding area. “We need to find him. Can you walk?”

“I think so,” Wooyoung answered, clearing his throat and accepting his captain’s hand before being helped to his feet. “He was ahead of me, so the water must have pulled him out first. He should be back on the beach.”

“The beach is underwater,” Hongjoong reported gravely, starting back in the direction of the sea nonetheless. “Maybe he… maybe I missed him when I was looking in the debris.”

Wooyoung saw his uncertainty and his eyes welled up, lower lip beginning to wobble at the prospect that he’d lost Yeosang after all.

“No, Wooyoung, look at me,” Hongjoong drew his attention, placing firm hands on his shoulders before he could crumple to the ground. “We’ll find him. Whatever it takes.”

Throughout the following hour there were more than a few scares as others called out for help, the number of conscious survivors slowly growing but only by a few.

The black water of the surge began to recede, and took with it both bodies and wreckage. Hongjoong and Wooyoung needed to pick up the pace.

Wooyoung refused to split up, searching the debris himself but always within view of Hongjoong, afraid that anything could separate them again.

A strangled gasp from his direction sent Hongjoong returning to his side to see what he’d found. There was a smear of blood across a destroyed plank, connected to a trail that led down the beach.

“It’s fresh,” Hongjoong confirmed. Already of the same mind without needing to discuss their plan of action, the two set off to follow it, fighting down the dread of what they might find at the other end.

The owner of the blood had been moving down the shoreline this direction, but the trail began to run cold as spots on the sand grew infrequent.

Just as he was about to assure Wooyoung that this was a positive development, that it meant the person had gotten the bleeding under control, Hongjoong rounded the corner and nearly tripped over Yeosang.

“Yeosang!”

He and Wooyoung exclaimed in unison, reaching down to lift their navigator off the  ground where he appeared to have fallen and checking him for injury.

A large gash ran down his forehead, his own hand pressed there to stop the flow of blood, and there was a dazed look in his eye.

“You’re alive!” Yeosang choked out, standing to greet them, albeit unsteadily.

“We’re all alive!” Wooyoung gasped in excitement, the sheer joy on his face standing out in contrast with their bleak surroundings.

“We’re alive!” Hongjoong repeated aloud, suddenly giddy at the near miraculous outcome of such an experience. “I’ve no idea how, but—”

“We’re all alive, and we’re together…” Yeosang pointed out, taking each of their hands in his and holding on tight.

The tears in his eyes welled up and spilled over, catching on like they were contagious, so the three of them stood there laughing hysterically all while crying harder than they’d allowed themselves to in months.

“The ocean lost this one!” Hongjoong snickered, detaching himself to run to the waterline and give the shallows a weak kick. “Take that!”

Following after him, Yeosang and Wooyoung each gave the sea a punishing slap, quickly turning their frivolity into a game of splashing each other.

Until Yeosang stumbled and needed to be led back to solid ground, all three engaged in a bout of lighthearted tomfoolery, not caring that the moment was approaching when they’d have to grapple with the future and simply being drunk on their own survival for a moment.

“I didn’t see the second wave coming,” Hongjoong admitted in a daze as soon as silence had fallen.

“No one did, captain,” Wooyoung tried to console him, unable to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all. “It was behind the first wave.”

Yeosang chuckled and opened his mouth to add something, but found himself blinking blood out of his eyes again and stopped.

“Your head…” Wooyoung remembered, sitting beside the navigator to get a better look at it. “We ought to do something about it.”

“Perhaps there are supplies somewhere, or something laying around that we can use to bandage you…” Hongjoong trailed off, looking around the immediate area and finding little of use.

“It doesn’t hurt too badly,” the navigator tried to reassure them, but both Hongjoong and Wooyoung had been imprisoned with him in Namhae. They knew this was a reopening of the old head wound he had sustained in the torture there, and that much more dangerous as a result.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Hongjoong, and when Wooyoung glanced over he saw blood coating his hand. Not Yeosang’s blood.

“What—?”

Cutting himself off, Wooyoung watched Hongjoong open his jacket and reach a hand inside only to find more blood.

His wound from the execution had reopened.

With only the slightest expression of annoyance, the captain dropped to the sand next to Yeosang and heaved a sigh.

Wooyoung looked more nervous now, and pressed his fingers together anxiously.

They weren’t broken anymore, but thinking of the days in that cold prison cell brought back the phantom feeling. Pain and loneliness.

He was running a mantra through his head; they won’t leave me, we’re going to be alright.

Hongjoong put a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s just… rest for a moment.”

___

“Seonghwa!”

One voice broke through the fog of panic that had descended on his brain. Hongjoong’s voice.

“Here.”

A hand reached out towards him, and finally Seonghwa turned from the ledge of crumbling floor tile he was clinging to and tried to reach back.

“You’re too far away,” he muttered, trying to keep the shaking of his voice to a minimum. Any moment now, he’d lose his grip, and Hongjoong was too far away.

Dark, cold eyes landed on him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Seonghwa knew he’d only dredged up a memory, but he waited patiently nonetheless, fingers brushing Hongjoong’s as he climbed lower and strained to reach him.

Distantly, he registered the scene playing out; others below yelling at them to stop, Hongjoong instructing Seonghwa to jump.

Grunting with effort, he released the wall and pushed off, flying for a moment as freely as he had that first day he set foot on the ATEEZ, before Hongjoong’s hand found his and he was snatched from the jaws of death just in time.

Hongjoong cried out as he caught him, the sudden pressure on his arm reopening the gunshot wound in his shoulder.

“What— you were shot,” Seonghwa heard himself say aloud while he tried to stop from swinging back and forth.

He was slipping on Hongjoong’s blood again, falling through his fingers no matter how hard the other tried to pull him up.

“Don’t let go,” Seonghwa cried, a different plea than he had made in the moment. Any rational thought was now banished at the sight of sticky, trailing blood, primal fear invading his senses as he felt himself slip again.

The blood won out in the end, and Hongjoong lost his grip, but this time they didn’t swim through murky water and crawl their way out to the sunlight.

Falling through the abyss while the scream was snatched from his lungs, Seonghwa snapped awake and stumbled out of bed.

His hammock swung gently in the dark from the momentum and the boatswain tightened his grip on it to calm his breathing.

The floorboards were cold and a glance outside the stained glass windows at the night sky explained why. It was snowing.

A sharp gasp from the bed on the other side of the cabin distracted him, and Seonghwa found his feet moving of his own accord, going to see who had made the noise.

There was Hongjoong, muttering in his sleep as he thrashed around in a nightmare of his own.

Knowing by now that there was nothing he could do until his captain awoke, Seonghwa silently padded to the galley and began preparing the tea.

Ever since Jongho had joined with his tempestuous dreams and disturbing prophecies, the infirmary had sleeping draught in stock to coax him back from the edge of nightmares, although now the stores were dwindling as they ambled north to rid him of his curse.

Admonishing himself for spending everything on hearty foods and warm furs for the arctic instead of buying more ingredients in Geobugi, Seonghwa returned to the cabin with a steaming cup of tea, sleeping draught mixed into the chamomile.

Sitting on the edge of the bed and watching Hongjoong finally jolt awake, a realisation began growing in the back of Seonghwa’s mind that he was, in fact, still dreaming.

He refused to admit it to himself, and placed the teacup in Hongjoong’s hands as he sat up and froze in surprise.

“What… what’s this?”

“I made myself some tea,” Seonghwa lied offhandedly. “Didn’t feel like finishing it. You can have the rest.”

Too frightened to express any concern verbally, he sat there until the cup was drained, taking it from Hongjoong’s hands before he dropped it and guiding the captain’s head to rest on his shoulder when it was clear the draught had begun taking effect.

“That’s not just tea,” Hongjoong mumbled while he fought the pull of sleep. “It’s the medicine, Jongho’s medicine, isn’t it? We’re almost out of it and he’ll forget you next, you shouldn’t have…”

Seonghwa shushed him and pulled the blanket up again. Hongjoong wouldn’t remember it in the morning, and even if he did, he couldn’t stay angry for long.

A chill swept through the curtains and despite Seonghwa’s efforts to warm them both up, the body beside him was growing increasingly cold.

He could feel himself waking up, and again he refused.

The room was becoming hazy, the dream bleeding away into waking life but Seonghwa held on, tears filling his eyes in distress.

“How many times will I have to lose you?” He whispered hoarsely, knuckles white as he clung on to the fabric of the blanket, to the feeling of his dream. There was a pounding noise somewhere outside that slowly registered as knocking.

Hongjoong tilted his head, shifting it from Seonghwa’s shoulder in confusion. He was only a figment of his imagination who didn’t know he was disappearing even now.

“You could never lose me.”

The tears spilled over and Seonghwa was suddenly afraid he would die again right then and there, that perhaps it was the tea that poisoned him, Seonghwa who had killed him—

“Don’t… don’t close your eyes,” he begged, voice raw with pain that had been buried for months. “You have to live, I can’t take care of them on my own!”

Hongjoong shook his head and chuckled at him, as if amused that Seonghwa would ever think he needed to take care of the crew by himself.

This ghost from the past had no idea what he’d done to them in the present, not even when the knocking grew and Jongho’s voice sounded from the door.

“Hyung?”

“No!” Seonghwa protested angry now. “No, I can’t do this! Please!”

“Hyung!”

He opened his eyes and Jongho was shaking him.

“There you are,” the younger boy sighed when he finally met his gaze. “Are you alright? You were screaming.”

It was night still, and Seonghwa was drenched in sweat and tears, slowly sitting up to console Jongho that things were fine.

“Just a nightmare.”

Still hardly able to breathe, he shifted the focus off of himself with a question, “What are you doing up at this hour?”

No one else was in the captain’s cabin, with Mingi confined to the infirmary at night on the doctor’s orders.

“It was my watch,” Jongho answered simply, slowly as if he were speaking to a child. “Yours is next, that’s why I’m here.”

Usually Seonghwa would scold him for his sass, but tonight he said nothing and walked away, throwing on a robe and stepping outside the cabin.

That was the signal to Jongho that something was wrong.

“It was a bad dream, wasn’t it?”

He followed the boatswain belowdecks to the galley where he began making tea out of habit, treading carefully with his words.

“Not particularly,” Seonghwa answered, but his heart wasn’t in the response, regardless of the fact that it was technically true.

He’d had worse nightmares since that day.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Pausing where he hung the kettle over the fire, Seonghwa considered it but decided against. All the guilt and anguish accumulated since the execution were neatly packed away to deal with on his own, and the fact that they burst through the seams in his sleep didn’t mean he was losing his grip on his emotions.

“Is everything alright?” Jongho asked again, quieter this time, when Seonghwa neglected to answer the first question. He seated himself at the table and folded his hands patiently, ready to listen.

“Things are fine,” Seonghwa brushed it off, pouring hot water into his cup as soon as it was ready and listing all the reasons when it became apparent Jongho wouldn’t accept his answer. “Repairs are underway, everyone’s injuries are healing, the messenger bird has been sent to the Stardust, and soon we’ll be meeting them at Ama.”

Outwardly, things were actually improving for once and no trouble had found them in their secluded lagoon.

Inwardly, it was a different story.

Seonghwa felt lonely. There was a chasm in his heart and it ached terribly.

“You don’t have to hold everything together you know,” Jongho pointed out with a gentle hum, already more aware of the real issue than he should be.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” Seonghwa scoffed, still trying to divert the younger’s attention. “The ship breaks apart at the drop of a hat. It’s like she’s… unhappy.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Jongho cut him off, firmness in his gaze even while his tone remained soft. “What’s been going on with you?”

Finally dropping into a chair and downing half of his tea in one swig, Seonghwa accepted the inevitable. There was no getting out of this conversation. Jongho was too observant.

“It’s the dreams, Jongho,” he sighed heavily. “They’re not like the ones you used to have, they-they don’t come true. Sometimes, I wish they did. Just so I could speak with him again.”

Shaking his head with frustration at himself, Seonghwa hid the tears springing to his eyes behind another gulp of his drink.

“That’s not a burden you need on top of so many others, hyung,” Jongho argued, persistent in his attempts to make eye contact with the increasingly agitated Seonghwa.

Hot blooded anger coursed through his veins, bitterness at Hongjoong for abandoning him like Mother had years ago. Like it seemed everyone always did, even when he promised himself not to get attached.

This was why he never settled down. This was why he held everyone at arm’s distance now.

“Can anything be heavier than the burden I already bear?” He ground out hoarsely, finally looking up and into Jongho’s deep brown eyes, terrifying him deeply. “I was there that day Jongho. I was there and I let him die, alone.”

Jongho couldn’t keep his eyes from watering at this admission, and needed a moment to turn away and breathe deeply before scooting his chair closer to pull Seonghwa into his arms.

Ever since he’d joined the crew, he wasn’t one for initiating physical affection, but slowly his walls had been broken down as he’d received more and more, especially from Seonghwa. There was nothing else for Jongho to do now, except to hold him tightly in return and fight to keep the tears out of his voice.

“You’ve been so strong,” he whispered. “So strong, hyung.”

A sob was caught in Seonghwa’s throat as he clung on, suddenly feeling very small again.

“But I failed.”

“No one believes that,” Jongho insisted. “Please listen to me; this wasn’t your fault. Guilt will consume you like it consumed me when I thought I had killed Wooyoung and Yeosang, and I can’t bear to see it. You don’t deserve this pain.”

At this Seonghwa cried, finally releasing the emotions he’d fought so hard to keep from showing around the others. There was still the smallest worry in his mind that Jongho would think less of him for letting it out, but the younger boy simply rubbed his back and muttered quiet assurances.

“You don’t need to pretend for our sakes, I mean that,” Jongho’s voice broke through gently.

“It’s been so long,” Seonghwa hiccupped, blinking red-rimmed eyes as he looked up at Jongho. “Why can’t I move on?”

“I don’t think any of us have moved on,” came the response, honest and raw even though it appeared in a lost whisper. “We’re doing our best. Please, say you’ll be here, together with us.”

Jongho needed him. All the officers did. They were traumatised, each of them, and Seonghwa wouldn’t leave them alone to the darkness of their minds. There was no chance of overcoming those feelings by themselves.

And so he nodded, and wiped Jongho’s budding tears for him before the favour was returned.

“He visits you in your dreams, doesn’t he?” The younger boy asked, a knowing lilt to his voice.

Seonghwa nodded. A shadow at least, often only the image of him, sometimes haunting and sometimes merely a memory.

“Me too. We have to cherish it, hyung,” Jongho declared, cupping Seonghwa’s face in his hands. “The fact that we can be together somewhere, if not in waking life.”

___

Yeosang wasn’t sure how long he’d dozed off when he opened his bleary eyes to see the grey world around him. He was in someone’s lap, and Hongjoong was stroking his hair and humming something mindlessly.

At least, he thought it was Hongjoong. A few blinks later, he realised he was correct.

The captain’s white hair had dried and the buttons of his navy uniform were undone, but it was most certainly him and when he noticed Yeosang was awake, he stopped singing and smiled down at him.

“Welcome back. Feeling alright?”

“Hm,” Yeosang tested out his voice before responding, a bit hoarse. “Better. You?”

Hongjoong pressed his lips together and looked away, merely humming in response.

Yeosang exhaled through his nose and let his eyes fall shut again. He hadn’t been entirely truthful, as the light was still bothering him, but the lessened pain could be attributed to the fact that the sun was setting, and he’d now slept the day away.

Again, Hongjoong’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Are you shivering?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Yeosang frowned, even as he realised he was, in fact, trembling quite violently. “I’m soaked to the bone.”

Regardless of how long he’d slept there, the dampness of his clothes hadn’t lessened. Perhaps because they were lying in the shade, under one of the last palm trees left on this stretch of beach.

“Wet officers’ uniforms will get us nowhere in enemy territory,” Hongjoong pointed out, unfastening his collar and peeling it away.

“So shall we use palm leaves to make new ones?” Wooyoung snorted, entering Yeosang’s field of vision briefly and squeezing his shoulder.

“No, I don’t think we’ll want coats now anyway,” Hongjoong muttered, knowing the question was in jest but answering anyway as it raised another problem. “It’s entirely too hot.”

A moment of quiet passed by, and Yeosang’s eyes almost closed of their own accord again. The pounding in his head had started to return, and even though Hongjoong’s hand continued to card through his hair rhythmically, there was a stickiness in it that made Yeosang wonder if his head wound was bleeding again.

If he faded into the memory, it was Wooyoung’s hand wiping away the blood and dirt— his good hand, not the broken one— and Hongjoong was absent from his cell, being interrogated someplace where his cries wouldn’t escape the stone room. Guilt settled in the pit of Yeosang’s stomach and he began to understand why his captain had played the piano and filtered out his own screams.

If he let himself relive the dungeon on Namhae, his mind was again wholly consumed with the dread of seeing Admiral Kim next, when the lieutenants tired of beating them, unable to glean any information whether they flogged, drowned, or starved the pair. And in the end he had been freed, and Wooyoung with him, because of one little mark on his skin that once had branded him an outcast and now set him apart as untouchable.

Yeosang forced himself back to the present, where voices were creating a plan. As much of one as they could create in the middle of nowhere with next to nothing.

“We should hide in the jungle,” Hongjoong said regretfully, as if he had considered all other options first and come up empty. “The Crow is here somewhere. I don’t fancy being recaptured.”

A chill passed through Yeosang again, not from the damp uniform this time, and Hongjoong held him tighter until it was gone.

The Crow was here somewhere. Admiral Kim was here. Either alive or dead, and Yeosang much preferred the latter.

The thought of spending his days in the musty depths of that ship again was a harrowing one. Yeosang had no idea how Hongjoong had survived alone down there for months before he and Wooyoung had come, but he’d rather not repeat the experience either way.

Surviving on their own, washed up on a foreign island that had been stricken by the ocean almost upon their arrival, was likely the better alternative.

At the very least, they knew they would have Hongjoong’s experience to help them.

“Can you walk?” The captain asked, and Yeosang nodded in answer, head merely shifting up and down against Hongjoong’s chest, before confirming with his body.

Sensing that he had agreed prematurely, Wooyoung came to help him stand and, supported between the two of them, Yeosang got to his feet and steadied himself.

Murky seawater was draining away, and the ground grew firmer as they moved uphill. Trees were more densely packed and the smell of the earth intensified.

Yeosang’s senses heightened as they fully entered the jungle, the sight of the ocean behind cut off from view for the first time since he’d left his mansion at Bundam.

“Let’s get that coat off you,” Hongjoong offered, passing most of Yeosang’s weight to Wooyoung and helping him out of the jacket before removing his own and throwing the three of them over a tree branch, where they hopefully wouldn’t be seen.

The sound of fabric ripping came from beside him, and Yeosang turned to see Wooyoung tearing the sleeves of his blouse off. He handed one to Yeosang and one to Hongjoong.

“To use as bandages,” he explained like it was obvious when the pair looked at him in confusion.

Yeosang flashed him a grateful smile while Wooyoung secured the cloth around his head, soaking up the blood and conveniently keeping the sweat out of his eyes as he advanced into the trees.

“Alright, you’re next,” the gunner attempted to convince Hongjoong. “Shirt off, let me bandage you.”

“No, it’s alright, really,” the captain tried to argue back. “We should save the sleeve for when Yeosang soaks through the one you just gave him, he’s bleeding much more than I am.”

While the two went back and forth, Yeosang continued into the jungle, remaining in earshot but curious to see if he could balance on his own.

Using the tree boughs to support him, he moved uphill at a steady pace, concentrating his strength as best as he could.

He glanced back at the others and informed them he was ready to go on, but they were too wrapped up in their conversation to notice.

Yeosang kept moving anyway.

His head was clearing the further he went, perhaps because the constant noise of rushing water was absent.

Instead, there was the quiet hum of forest, not completely unlike the woods back home near the mansion, but wilder in its unfamiliarity and more mysterious the deeper he ventured.

Something caught his attention when the sound of voices had drifted away.

A pile of uniforms, hung over the branch of a tree.

Had he gone in a circle?

When a wave of dizziness hit him the longer he stared at it, he leaned against the tree to catch his breath and considered how he must have arrived there.

Wooyoung and Hongjoong weren’t standing beside it as they had been when Yeosang walked away, and though he couldn’t be certain he’d only walked for a few minutes, there was no way they could have disappeared that quickly.

Inspecting the uniforms closer revealed something unexpected.

They were lieutenant uniforms, decorated with medals and sashes that the lower ranking soldiers didn’t have. So, unless Yeosang had hit his head harder than he thought, these weren’t their uniforms and this wasn’t the same tree.

He sucked down a panicked breath. The officers had survived and were here somewhere. While that was likely good news for the stowaways, it meant the Admiral could be alive as well, which was decidedly not.

“Where is he?”

“Yeosang! Which way did you go?”

Muffled shouts came from the brush behind him, but Yeosang soldiered on without responding, following the trail of discarded clothing— hats, shoes, and blouses littering a newly beaten path through the jungle— and hoped Wooyoung and Hongjoong would follow.

It was like his head was full of cotton, detached from himself and somehow feeling none of the pain as he wandered in the direction everything pointed to. Even the palms were bent away as if beckoning him.

Just up ahead, a particularly large tree had met its match but not fallen. There, cradled in its boughs, were two ships that bled into one as Yeosang blinked the fog away. He must be hallucinating.

A man-of-war had been washed up and stranded there by the tsunami, and as Yeosang stepped closer hesitantly, still hiding behind a palm frond in case he was seen, he caught a glimpse at the colours she had been flying and the name written on the aft.

It was the Black Crow.

___

Taglist: @spoiledmilknoreos @knucklesdeepmingi @serendipityunho @atzjjongbby @ley-writes

A/N: Hello crew mates!!! I’ve just returned from a lovely week by the ocean which helped me get this chapter done so I can finally focus my efforts on the one you’ve all been waiting for (the next one) where all the angst, longing, and situational irony just might come to a head 👀 there are some surprises in store, I promise you that ;)

PSA: If you would consider joining a platonic fic fest, a really cool one called the 8 Makes 1 Family fest is happening this summer (info) and it would be super cool if we got a lot of participants ^^ Let’s birth some new works into the world (myself included)…

Otherwise, thanks so much for waiting and reading this chapter. Only one more in this volume and then on to the LAST!!! 12 chapters in the Treasure series. I’m going to be very emotional. Let me know your favourite part(s), predictions, headcanons, and any other thoughts you have on this chapter in the comments or my twitter and have a nice day/night :) ttyl~

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[bangchanshehe]

The Trespasser pt.7

You were on top of the world with the new title of leader of your family’s clan. You were the strongest clan in all of the orient and you were proud. But your family feels that there are threats still lurking around making you a target. When they introduce you to a potential man for a business and marriage merger will it help your clan or make matters worse?

Word count: 2.8k

Wonho x Reader, Shownu x Reader, Jooheon x Reader

You and Hoseok had decided to meet at your home so the two of you could finalize things and get the ball rolling on your marriage. And currently the two of you were sitting at your desk and sipping on coffee as you read through each of your terms and conditions that you wanted to add into the basic contract agreement. And as you waited for Hoseok to finish reading through so you could both ask any questions you watched him and admired his features.

His sharp nose and incredibly strong and built body was impressive and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t find him attractive. His lips were full, and his eyes were sharp and yet soft. And even on days like today, where he wasn’t necessarily dressed to kill but in everyday clothing, he still looked like the guy who would have the center of attention in any room that he walked in.

“do you have a habit of staring at people?” Hoseok asked you without even looking up at you

His words hadn’t even registered in your head as you continued to look at his figure and his features. You were staring at his hair when Hoseok realized that you were still looking and hadn’t heard him. He had raised his head up and sat back in his seat with his arms crossed. He gave you a small knowing smirk as you came eye to eye with him and gave him a confused look.

“what?” you asked confused as to Hoseok’s sudden demeanor

He let out a small chuckle and shook his head “nothing” he said softly “did you think that everything was okay?” he asked

“there was one thing I wanted to ask about” you said as you read through his terms and found the one that had slightly concerned you. “Party A reserves the right to end the contract with Party B at any time if Party B’s health declines or if he becomes unfit to perform daily tasks?” you ask as you read out the term

Hoseok gave you a polite smile and took a deep breath before he explained “you know of my health and the extensive surgeries that I have had. So if I were to get injured there is a large possibility that it could also cause some complications in some of my other older injuries.”

You stared at him waiting for him to continue. You had imagined that the clause would be something that was very important or detrimental to the marriage. Not some crap about him having an injury.

Hoseok stared back at you for a moment before he continued with his explanation. “and it could leave me bedridden and dependent on a caretaker…depending on how bad the injuries are.”

You took a moment to reflect on what he had just told you, and a small part of you also felt offended that he would think that him being injured could be an embarrassment or a burden to you. “so you think that I would just toss you away if you were to become injured?” you asked him

“no. I would hope that you wouldn’t, but I would understand that you might need to in a specific circumstance.” He elaborated

You stared at Hoseok as if he had a horn growing out of his head and wondered what had happened to make him think of such a thing. “Let me get one thing clear….” You stared before you continued, hoping that Hoseok would hear how serious you were “if you are to get injured during the contract I will not terminate it. While in term of the contract the two of us will be 50/50 partners and I will never leave one of my own just because they require more assistance or down time. None of your injuries will embarrass me, be a hinderance to me or make me feel superior to you.” You explained

Hoseok swallowed before he gave you one content head nod. And you didn’t know why but you felt like the injuries were definitely a sore spot for Hoseok. And perhaps it was the one thing that he felt insecure about. Maybe he felt that since he had injuries that made him more vulnerable and prone to accidents that he was broken goods or unfit.

“do you get a lot of injuries?” you asked him out of concern for his health and not the contract

Hoseok awkwardly dropped his attention from you to the floor and he shuffled his feet while he tried to avoid answering the question “I don’t get injuries per-say…but some days I wake up with terrible back pains.”

You nodded your head and gave Hoseok a small smile, showing him that you appreciate his openness and honesty. You quickly moved on to another topic so that Hoseok wouldn’t feel attacked or pitied, and bring the focus to yourself.

“is there anything that you needed clarification on from my conditions?” you asked him

Hoseok scanned over your added conditions and then smiled down at one “Party B should only engage in physical contact with Party A in conditions in which it necessary for the integrity of the marriage or when both parties consent.” He looked up at you with a crooked smile. “I understand the first half. But do you care to elaborate on ‘when both parties consent’?” he asked

You held in your laughter and thought to yourself of course mr. playboy had to remember that condition. “that is simply insurance for myself so that you know that any physical contact is to be kept to a minimum. As I have said already this marriage Is just on paper. So its there to make sure that you and I are both on the same terms.”

Hoseok smiled at you and gave you an awkward glance over. Is he upset right now? you could only see his disappointment for a split second before he wiped his emotions from his face, and returned to the smirky playboy.

“is there anything else that you want to look over before things are finalized?” you asked him to redirect the conversation

Hoseok finally leaned forward and flipped to the front of the contract where he found the specifics of the contract terms and dates. “I didn’t find the contract dates anywhere. Was there any time when you wanted to start the contract?”

“things will be official and start the day that we sign the contracts.” You answer

Hoseok gave you a bewildered look “so today? We will be married starting today?” he asked in disbelief

You smiled at him and nodded your head. He looked really cute when he was caught off guard and surprised. But you would never admit that to him. Compliments and small things like that would only confuse and complicate things.

“no ceremonies, no photos, no marriage certificate?” he asked

“of course we will have marriage certificates. All I have to do is give the official okay and they will be sent to us.” You elaborated “but the marriage photos, and ceremonies are of no use to me.”

“hmm” Hoseok hummed as he thought things over “my mom will be a bit bummed about there not being a ceremony, but this isn’t a typical marriage is it?!”

You nodded your head and looked down at your desk thinking things over. You didn’t want to have to do unnecessary things like marriage photos. Because, for all you knew you and Hoseok could end up on bad terms and such things lying around would just be thrown away…. But on the other hand you could understand that he wasn’t doing this for himself but for his parents and for the business. And with all personal feelings aside you also knew that it was something that could potentially come in handy. Plus, your mother would also more than likely be upset that there was no reception or photos.

You took a deep breath before you responded to hoseok’s mumbling. “I honestly don’t find the point in a ceremony, but if you would like to take marriage photos we can.”

Hoseok looked up to you and gave you a small smile. You could tell that he was surprised in you offering to do something more… marital, but when you sign the contract things are supposed to be 50/50. And if it means that taking a day to take marriage photos would make both parties and their families happy, then it was worth it.

“I think that would be nice. I mean I obviously can’t speak for you but I would like marriage photos to show the family.” He said softly while he looked at you with a glowing smile.

“Fine. We can schedule it.” You said returning his smile back.

You turned to look at your calendar on your computer and your phone and frowned when you noticed that you had a message from Minhyuk

Min: The boys and I are out doing some training at the warehouse. The house is empty for you and the Mr. to explore and look around

You didn’t know why but you had a sinking feeling about all of the men being outside of the house on purpose. It felt like they were speaking behind your back and that also means that Shownu and Jooheon would have been involved in the conversation. And you didn’t want to wave this in their faces any more than you absolutely had to.

“care to take a look around and get familiar with the place?” You offered to Hoseok as you pushed the negative thoughts out of your mind

Hoseok smiled and stood up from his seat and you quickly stood with him and then guided him through the office and around the house. You showed him every corner and allowed for him to enter every room and ask whatever questions that he wanted. He was impressed by the gym and the size of the industrial kitchen, and it was obvious that he was excited about moving in, despite there being multiple people who also live in the house with you. But you knew that it would be big changes for him since he had always lived with his family and clan. You were almost done showing him around the house until you came to the only wing left. The only room that you hadn’t shown him was your own and his.

“and this room will be yours if you approve” you said as you opened the door to the spare empty bedroom that sat just across from yours

You had stepped out of the way and watched as he walked inside, looking the walls up and down. He took the time to look inside the closets, check out the in-suite bathroom and come across the hidden door that led to his own panic room and office space.

“what is this?” he asked as he looked at the almost invisible seam on the walls

You stepped forward and smiled at him before you pulled the fake light panel out and revealed the wall opening touchpad. You turned to look at hoseok’s expression, but he was absolutely astounded by what he was witnessing and waited patiently for you to completely open the wall.

You tapped once on the screen and then put your finger on the touch pad, waiting to hear the familiar beep that it was unlocked. Only a moment later the secret door had come unlatched and you had eagerly pushed through it. Inside there was a small hallway that led to the secret office space and you waited for Hoseok inside.

“woah!” he said quietly in surprise as he walked through. “this is incredible!”

You chuckled “this is your secret office space. Though of course you can use it for whatever you want….and in the hallway there where you first came in the floor can be lifted and underneath there is a secret panic room”

Hoseok looked back to the hallway and smiled as he tried to find the giveaway that it was a secret passage. But when he couldn’t find anything he looked back at you in amazement. “this is incredible”

“yes. You’ve already said that!” you chirped back sarcastically. “so do you like it?” you asked him with a smile already knowing that he was in love with the house but the secret room had sealed the deal.

“are you kidding me?!” he laughed “my house is so dull compared to this. You know as a kid I knew that my dad had a panic room but I never got to go inside…. And I always wanted to just peek inside. But now I have my own!”

“let me know when you plan to move in and I can have your room arranged for you” you said nonchalantly

Hoseok smiled and tilted his head to the side “I can pretty much move in whenever…but there’s one more thing that I’m curious about”

You gave him a look of awareness, letting him know that you were open to whatever he wanted to know. He scanned your face and bit his lip as if he was unsure of whether or not he should press on with his curiosity. But without a second thought he asked.

“I haven’t seen your room yet. Can I take a look?”

You gave him an apprehensive glare. It wasn’t that you were unwilling to share your personal space with him. After all, you were as good as married and if the two of you were going to spend a lot of time with each other and live in the same space there was no use in trying to hide it. But your room wasn’t in the best shape and you were embarrassed to show it to someone for the first time in the shape that it was in.

“uhh… right now isn’t really a good time-” you muttered

“what? Are your men waiting for you in your room or something?” he asked with a chuckle

You tilted your head “no. nothing like that.” You said and then let out a sigh. That chapter of your life was likely closed for a good while “it’s not exactly tidied up right now”

“well that’s even better!” Hoseok said with a megawatt smile. “I can see how you really are without all of the pretense. Plus, I’m sure your room is full of the things that you like so I can also get to know you a little bit better.”

You gave him a final look of uncertainty before you let out a deep breath “alright, let’s get the embarrassment over with then”

Hoseok chuckled and took the lead out of his future room. You couldn’t tell what he was more excited by at this point… his dream panic room or your messy bedroom. He waited by the front door for you and you slowly walked to the door directly across from his own. You gave him a small frown before you commented under your breath

“don’t say I didn’t warn you”

You opened the door and allowed for Hoseok to take the lead in.

“wow” was all that he said as he looked around

You mentally scolded yourself as you looked around with him, frowning at your pile of clothes at your bedside. The unfolded and unhung clean clothes that sat in a laundry bin. The half empty or completely empty water bottles that sat on your night stands. The shoes that were lying around scattered through your bedroom. The pillows from your unmade and wrinkled bed that sat on the floor.

You knew that it was a mess and honestly you were embarrassed that Hoseok was seeing this side of you. It was completely different from what you had presented everywhere else in the house. Everything that was a shared space was neat and tidy and you prided yourself in keeping things orderly. But when it came to your own personal space…you were a little more relaxed.

“it’s not that bad” Hoseok said with his hand on the back of his neck as if he was trying to physically hold back from cringing or laughing

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you doing it and walked over to his side so you could take a good look at his face. and as he turned to face you he had a sympathetic and polite smile on his face. you smiled back to him and scoffed.

“you’re full of shit” you said jokingly

Hoseok laughed and cocked his eyebrow. “actually, I’m not. I’m quite messy myself”

“really?” you asked surprised

Hoseok turned away from you to exit your room and just faintly under his breath you could hear him whisper “you’ve got a lot to learn about me…Mrs. Shin”