#ot8 ateez x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justaaveragereader · 6 months

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Slashtober🔪||OT8

Pairing: OT8 x Reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: MeanDom!Ateez, Sub!Reader, Name Calling, Gang Bang, Ass Fucking, Unprotected Sex (Please Dont😀), Spanking, Spit, Tit Smacking, Breast Play, Bukkake, Dacryphilia, Oral, Cum Eating, Rough Sex, Degradation, CNC, Choking, Marking, If I Missed Anything🫣👀Lemme Know..

A/N: I can’t believe I was able to get this done before 12am😵‍💫, I tried my best to get this done before midnight, bc I wanted to make sure I posted it on Halloween. I can’t believe it’s officially over now, thank you to everyone who supported me. Rather it was with a like, reblog, a comment, an ask, anything tbh. I received so much love this October and I’m grateful and appreciate to every single one of you😭💙. Also special thanks to @seonghwasbobaeyes for betaing the first half of this fic, you are muchly appreciated babes😚! This isn’t the end of the road for Slasher!Ateez👀, we will DEFINITELY be seeing them again! I’m already thinking about what I’m going to write for November tbh..😚. My asks will be opening due to October being over, so send in your requests!

Kinktober Masterlist

Ever since your last visit with the two masked men, you had been itching, yearning for more. They left you with an undying last in your mouth. You craved them, how sinners crave sin. They were addicting, they were like a forbidden fruit.

You hadn’t heard a peep or even seen a peep of them in weeks. You had been on the lookout constantly, trying to find any trace of them. It's like your neighbors knew you were on the fence. Making sure to greet you everyday, going out of their way to make sure you were happy. They so easily picked up your emotions. It's like you bonded with every single one of them. Wanting to get into better spirits you decided to throw a small Halloween party inviting the guys from the neighborhood as a way to say thanks for all they do, and thanks for being there for you.

You were at home prepping the food when suddenly the lights went out in your home. Letting out an annoyed huff you make your way to your circuit breaker box. Walking past your bedroom you notice a figure in your room, hiding behind the wall, you try to steady your breath clearly worked up and scared by what you saw, you quietly try to creep down the hall when your lights cut back on. Wanting to see if it was your eyes playing tricks on you, or if there was someone actually in your home you slowly make your way to the bedroom. As soon as you cut the corner to your room you see one of the masked men in your bedroom, sitting on your bed, man spreading widely. Energy as heavy as stone, he sat like he owned not only your hole, he sat like he owned you, and every move you made. Getting up slowly, he walks towards you, slow long strides.

Putting his hands up on the frame of the door. His muscular body takes up the whole door frame.

“And where are you running off to, pretty girl?”

Your eyes grow big, backing away slowly, your back bumps into a hard frame behind you. Looking up you see Mingi towering over you, staring down at your helpless frame.

“Don’t you look cute in your pajamas.” Mingi says with a large smirk on his face, running his fingers over the lace trim on the bottom of your sleep shorts. Jongho walks over to you, peeling his body off of the door frame. His large frame crushes you between him and Mingi. You can barely see his eyes through the mask, yet you can feel the intensity radiating from the person beneath it.

“Wh-what’s going on…” you whisper out through a shaky breath. Gripping your hips Mingi pulls your ass against him, grinding his hard on, onto you. Jongho moves closer, his chest completely crushing you. Gripping the front of your pajama shorts he plays with the lace on them, letting his hand slowly fall to the front of them, gradually untying the ribbon that keeps them up. Loosening the shorts, they fall dangerously low on your hips.

“What do you think is going on darling?” Seonghwa says, smooth voice floating out beneath his mask, making his way into your bedroom room. He seats himself on the bed. Man spreading his legs wide open, your eyes drift over the female plastic mask he’s wearing, down to the bricked cock beneath his skin tight pants. When Jongho squishes your body even further in between him and Mingi.

“I-I don’t kn-.” Your sentence gets cut off when the other two masked men enter, the largest one of the group takes up the whole door frame, while the shorter broader one stands in front of him. With his head cocked to the side. A shiver runs up your spine. Your brain can barely process what’s going on in front of you. All you want to do is flee but it feels like your feet are cemented to the ground.

“Look at her.” Yunho says, stepping forward into the room, clearing his large stature out of the door frame. San lets out a loud chuckle, making his way towards you.

“She looks like a deer caught in headlights.” San says through a laugh, walking on the other side of you while Yunho goes on the opposite. Caging your body in by all four men, while Seonghwa sits on the small bed watching you.

“I know you guys aren’t starting the game without us.” Wooyoung whines out, walking into the room, face paint smeared across his face yet with the lack of the red lights you can see clear as day that it’s Wooyoung. Trying to strain your neck between the men who are caging you in.

“Wooyoung, what’s going on?” You whisper shout, as if the men couldn’t hear you in the same confined room. Letting out a loud laugh, he walked over, looking at your poor helpless frame. Your body does a noticeable shiver.

“Do you want me to save you?” He says through a fake coo. Yeosang stands in the doorway, leaning his muscular form against it. Looking at you behind his mask he makes his way slowly over. Pushing through the cage the boys have you in.

“No…I think she wants all of us to help her out.” He says while he runs his gloved hand up your body. Starting from your chest, running it between your breasts, settling his covered hand around your throat. It's like deja vu, you start getting various flashbacks of each time one of these men have rearranged your guts, and practically broke your spine.

“Do you need saving darling?” Seonghwa says, standing up off the bed, making his way towards you with long slow strides, the men who caged your body slowly back away, making room for Seonghwa. His tall frame easily towers over yours. Soaking you in from head to toe.

“Of course not Seonghwa she doesn’t need saving, she needs to be fucked like the slut she is.” Hongjoong says, gripping your throat pulling your body against his invisible one. Manhandling you with ease, you swear you can see every person in the room, eyes darken instantaneously.

“Is that what it is dear? You need us to bend you over and rearrange your guts?” Seonghwa says, gripping your chin lightly while Hongjoongs hand continues to hold you tightly. Letting out a small whimper your eyes dart around to every man surrounding you in this room. Your lower belly grows hot with need. Hot with want, hot with flashbacks of every orgasm you’ve had with the individuals in this room. You open your mouth, just to close it once more, not exactly sure what words you are trying to speak. But you can tell by the way they are crowding you, and the way you are drinking them all in. You want nothing more than for them to break you.

Wrapping your hand around Yeosangs cock, you continue to pump his dick up and down. Fist tight to make sure he gets as much pleasure as possible. Gripping your chin in his hand, San turns your face towards him, cock deep down your throat, with his other hand on the back of your head, you gag with every powerful thrust he delivers to your throat. Eyes watering with unshed tears. San lets out a loud laugh, gripping the back of your head even tighter. Slamming his hips into your mouth..

“Look at this slut crying. Go on baby, cry on my cock.” San grits out, the pleasure that your warm mouth is giving him is becoming too much. Hongjoong lines himself up with your entrance, not even giving you time to prep, he slams his cock deep into your cunt. Body driving forward your nose bumps against Sans pelvic area. Letting out a loud sadistic laugh, he starts out at a rough pace, jack hammering your body forward. Causing a quick rhythm between him and San. Your hand starts to fall slack around Yeosangs cock. Gripping your head, Yeosang turns your face towards him.

“Do it right slut.” He grits out, squeezing your cheeks so tightly that he can feel Sans cock slide in and out of your mouth.

“Stretch her out.” Seonghwa says, the heaviest presence in the room. He stands up, hard cock in his hand, he slides under you. Your breast jiggling in his face, gripping your left breast, he runs his long cool tongue over your nipple. You squeeze your eyes shut, too immersed in the pleasure.

Mingi makes his way behind Hongjoong who is hammering away at you, collecting the drool that is hitting the floor from the way San is making you choke and gag on his cock. He wets his fingers, sliding them down to your puckered hole, you let out a moan so loud that all the boys can hear you. Sliding one finger in, your eyes grow huge, tears starting to run down your face by all the pleasure you are feeling.

Gripping your face harshly San gathers all the spit in his mouth, letting it slowly drop down to his cock, hitting your lips, it aids in the drool on the floor. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the taste of him. You can taste him in more ways than one, and it has your head clouded with nothing but hot lust.

“Such a whore who loves to be degraded.” San grits out, watching you suck him down your throat.

“Look at her crying again.” Yeosang says while your grip tightens and untightens on his cock. Mocking you through a fake coo. Letting his hand travel down, he grips the breast Seonghwa isn’t paying attention to, squeezing your nipple, just as he’s squeezing Mingi slips his second finger in your ass trying to stretch you out as much as possible. Tears are running down your face rapidly, your pussy clenches on Hongjoong, letting out a loud groan. He slams his hips up into you once more before pulling out, chest heaving up and down. Holding his orgasm back, wanting to save it to paint your body.

Wooyoung lets out a small laugh, clearly enjoying the view of you getting rag dolled all over the place, sliding into the place of Hongjoong, he taps his cock against your wet cunt, sliding his cock in between your wet pussy lips, making sure with every thrust up he nudges your clit. Pulling back San bites his lip, gripping your head even tighter trying to fight the urge to cum all over your face, he slides back letting Yunho in. Letting out a choked cough, you intake as much air as possible. Trying to catch your breath before Yunhos large frame towers over your small body.

“Look at this slut..” he says while hooking your bottom jaw with his thumb. Jongho stands behind Yunho, getting an eye full of you, tilting his head to the side almost like he’s studying you.

“Wanting to take us all..” Jongho says, continuing Yunhos sentence.

“She wants us in every way…” Mingi finishes after Jongho speaks.

Moving on the side of your body, Mingi pulls his fingers out, feeling like you’ve been stretched enough, he lets Seonghwa know that you are prepped and ready for whatever he is ready to give you. Sliding out from under you, Wooyoung and Seonghwa trade spots. With his wet fingers Mingi slowly strokes his cock while Seonghwa slides in between your wet cunt. Making sure that he soaks his cock with your juices that are practically pouring down, he lines himself up with your puckered hole. Sliding in slowly, inch my inch. Your eyes scrunch shut, the feeling of him sliding in your ass is unlike any other feeling you’ve ever felt. You grip Yunhos thighs for stability, just as you are about to let out the loudest moan, Yunho slides his cock into your mouth, instantly stuffing it. Wooyoung lines himself up with your sopping cunt that is dripping down onto his cock, your arousal just leaking all over him. Yeosang and Jongho stand on opposite sides of you, large bodies towering over your frame. Bunching your eyes shut, Wooyoung slides easily into your pussy. Shooting your eyes open you let out a loud, muffled moan. Placing your hands out, trying your best to find your balance while Seonghwa is fucking your ass, Wooyoung is deep in your cunt, while Yunhos large cock is deep down your throat.

Gripping Yeosangs and Jonghos cock in your hand, you slowly start to pump them, making sure to pay extra attention to the head of their cocks. With each stroke the members are giving you, you are seeing heaven behind your eyes, Seonghwa continuously slaps your ass cheeks while he strokes deep in your puckered hole, watching your ass cheek welt with each deep stroke he delivers to you. Wooyoungs balls are dripping with your arousal, inner thighs shining with your juices. While Yunho grips the sides of your face, making sure you take his cock as far as your small throat will let him.

San, Mingi, and Hongjoongs degradation fill your ears. Making you on the brink of the most powerful orgasm.

“Look at this hungry cock slut.” Hongjoong says, slowly stroking his cock, watching everyone have their turn with you.

“Look at her crying over how good all of our cocks are…” Mingi grits out, grabbing his balls while he beats his cock. Making sure to collect the drool that leaves your mouth on his hands so he can stroke himself with ease.

“Nothing but a cock sleeve for all of us.” San says with his head tilted back, stroking himself, matching the rhythm at which they all are fucking you.

Mingi makes his way over to Seonghwa, watching the way his cock slides in and out of your ass. Gripping one cheek so it’s easier for Seonghwa to get a feel of your warm wet hole. He gathers the spit in his mouth letting it drop onto your puckered hole. The cool sensation differs from the warmth of Seonghwas length sliding in and out of you. Hongjoong lets out a small chuckle at the way you whine every time someone spits on you, he makes his way towards Yunho, holding the sides of your throat, giving it a slight squeeze your breathing stutters, with his hands tightening around you throat he can feel Yunho slide in and out, the feeling is delicious, the lack of oxygen heats your body up.

Wooyoung reaches up, squeezing one of your tits in his hand while he strokes his cock in and out of your warm walls. Giving your nipple a pinch, you let out a muffled whine. Reeling his hand back he slaps your tit, the sudden feeling of the impact causes your jaw to drop, eyes fluttering in immense pleasure. He lets out a high pitched laugh, slapping your other tit, you feel the skin of your breast heat up with each heavy slap. The warmth that spreads through your body, has your toes clenching, you feel your orgasm charging its way through your body. Before you can get yours, Seonghwa is going to make sure all of them get theirs.

“You know what she’s only good for..” Seonghwa spits out through clenched teeth, pulling back swiftly, Wooyoung, and Yunho pull back as well. Urging you to sit on your knees with your mouth open. The members gather around you, stroking their cocks rapidly. With a loud groan, all of them cum almost in sync. Opening your mouth last minute you have drool running down your chest, with your tongue sticking out, trying to catch as much of their cum on your tongue as you can.

“This whore is only good for catching cum.” Seonghwa pants out. As they watch their cum drip down your body, it pools right between your legs, creating a small puddle. Letting out a low growl, Seonghwa moves forward first. Gripping the back of your throat he shoves you face down into the floor.

Running his hands down your back, he hikes your hips up into the air, your sticky chest comes in contact with the floor, creating a tacky feeling on your skin.

Cock already brick hard again, he taps it against your puckered hole, slipping in with ease once again. You let out a loud cry, throat sore from all the throat fucking you still let out loud moans with each buck of Seonghwas hips. Making his way over swiftly Mingi grabs your shoulders, lifting you up so your back is flush against Seonghwas chest, he lays down cock standing straight up, maneuvering you Mingi brings you down on his cock with the aid of Seonghwa. Letting out a loud cry once more your body falls forward, becoming chest to chest with Mingi. Gripping your neck Seonghwa pulls you back up, fingers tightly wrapping around your throat, destined to leave marks.

Wooyoung and Yeosang stand on opposite sides of your body, gripping your breast, before giving your chest a firm slap. Your body jolts forward, yet with Seonghwas tight grip on your throat you go nowhere. All the other members make their way towards you with their heavy, cum dripping cocks in their hands.

“You are going to be a good girl, and take all of our cum.” Seonghwa grunts into your ear before hiking his hips forward, biting your lip, you nod your head. Chest heaving with want. Mingi lets out a deep groan..

“Fuckkkkk…she’s dripping down my cock. Are you going to make a mess on our cocks, princess?” Adjusting his hips slightly, Mingi hikes his hips up into yours. Gripping your ass cheeks so you are spread even further for Seonghwa. The members step closer to you both.

“You are going to swallow all of their cum, then you are going to take our cum in this tight ass, and wet cunt of yours.” Seonghwa says knowingly, letting out a loud whimper by the authority in Seonghwas voice you nod as much as you can with his fingers still tightly wrapped around your throat.

Giving your ass a hard slap, Mingi jiggles the cheeks of your ass.

“Alright princess, who do you want to swallow first?”

Taglist: @araknoid @atinytinaa @k-hotchoisan @darkdayelixer @abby-grace @aurorasjoongie @tunaasan @jkookiejiminlvr @luckyblue98 @notevenheretbh1 @moonlightsora @raindropsondragons @park-simphwa @ro-written @hwajoongsang @certifiedmoa @pearltinyy @minniebinnie @solarstoy @frobin4ever @gvnwks @ethelia @jin-neck-shaft @nitarolls @jenthehobbityelf @gg-trini @tearfulsparks78 @10nantscompanion @moonm1st @oreoqueen @leehopehocarat @scuzmunkie @bangtan4everr @acetruepunk @s-unflowxr @rxnexxi @tenpesos @mixling-blog @helsnik @mrspettersen @mixtape-racha @realviviboss @mikaelless @queenoftrash97 @boomfrogg

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sunmoonjune · 3 months

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spring tides [like the moon universe]

pairing: poly!ot8 ateez x fem!oc!reader

warnings: vague mentions of eating disorder, death and torture, scars, ptsd, very fluffy! a lot of comfort! not so dark this time xD I did not proofread this :D

word count: 14.1k

a/n: hello y'all :D I have returned with some LTM for you <;3 This is a oneshot for my like the moon universe! You don't necessarily need to read the series to understand this fic but it definitely helps the immersion and understanding some of the plot points! you can find all chapters of ltm on my masterlist <3

Seonghwa remembers something in the spring of your third year with Ateez. As he watches you at Jongho’s side, silently offering the guard slices of fruit as he cleans his claymore, Seonghwa recalls that he doesn’t know when your birthday is.

Jongho is murmuring something about the design of his blade and the engraving along the handle when Seonghwa stands abruptly. The eldest shifts on his feet, brows furrowed and teeth worrying his bottom lip. His lips purse when Jongho questions him.

“Hwa?”

The red-haired guard looks up at his partner with a lilt of concern in his voice, hands halting their motion on his blade. Jongho’s dark eyes glint as the fading sun catches the hickory color of his irises.

“Is there something wrong?” Jongho continues, already shifting to stand to his feet. “Are you alright?”

You rock on your feet, legs stretching as you prepare to stand with Jongho. Your eyes flicker across camp, scanning for whatever has caught Seonghwa’s attention. There’s two swords still strapped to your back and you can nearly feel the cool metal pressing into your skin – a haunting reminder of the terrible things you’ve done with them. The buzz beneath your skin itches with the beginnings of adrenaline, already prepared to stand and defend the two Ateez members at your sides.

Seonghwa lifts his hands and shakes his head to soothe you and Jongho before you can stand. He softly waves his hands to encourage you to sit back onto the carved log beneath you, a wary smile on his lips.

“No, it’s nothing,” he murmurs, still gnawing at his lip as he finishes. He offers a barely concealed sigh and shakes his head again. “‘M alright, just remembered something.”

Jongho doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer, but he settles back onto the floor regardless. His hands return to wiping down his claymore but he doesn’t look away from his partner.

You share the sentiment, continuing to watch Seonghwa and making note of each creak and scratch that echoes through the camp. You don’t know what startled him, but you’ll be prepared for the next time. The fruit in your hands has made your fingers sticky in the brief moments you spent looking up at Seonghwa rather than cutting the supple treat.

You don’t mind though. You like slicing fruit for Jongho. He doesn’t eat enough, you’ve noticed. You’re not quite sure why, but you suppose you don’t quite know how to ask. No matter the reason, it brings you comfort when he continues to take slices of succulent fruit from you as he cleans. He doesn’t look up, simply trusting you to place the pieces into his hands so he can eat without trouble. When you sat beside him that morning with the fruit in your hands, Jongho raised an eyebrow but didn’t mention it. You ate the first few slices before offering them to the wine-haired guard, who accepted them with a small smile. Every so often, he turns slightly, ensuring that you’re continuing to eat as much as he does.

At one point he tilts his head back, looking up at you with those pretty, boba pearl eyes and opens his mouth slightly. Both his hands are occupied, busy with the intricate care his blade necessitates. With your heart thumping quickly in your chest, you place a slice of fruit on Jongho’s waiting lips and try desperately not to linger on the thought of how full and supple they are.

“Thanks, love,” he murmurs without looking at you, the words sweet and saccharine in the low timber of his voice.

Seonghwa laughed when Jongho’s cheeks pinkened after that, but you weren’t really sure why.

Turning his attention to you, Seonghwa looks down at your figure. Sitting with a slight slump in your shoulders, the spymaster smiles faintly. Slouched posture is a good sign, he muses. You’re comfortable.

When you tilt your head to the side, silently questioning Seonghwa’s thoughts, you reach up to gingerly grasp his fingers. There’s no hesitation. There hasn’t been in a long while. Seonghwa extends his hand in offering when he notices your appendages twitch. His warmth sinks into your palm and you nearly hum at the soothing feeling.

You squeeze his hand twice before lingering for a longer third.

‘Are you okay?’ you silently question.

Seonghwa’s lips quirk into another gentle smile, but his eyes are distant. It makes your heart tug painfully. The hickory of his near-black irises is muted. You miss the glimmer of those sweet, dark eyes that show when he smiles.

“Yeah, m’alright, lovebug.”

Your heart slams into your ribs – a delighted feeling. Lovebug. You like that.

Seonghwa leans closer to repeat the gesture, squeezing twice and then lingering for an ‘okay.’ His other hand lifts to run over the back of your head with a delicate movement. Fingers carefully scratch against your scalp and you resist the temptation to lean into his hands and exhale softly.

“I have to go see Joong and Yunho, though. I really did just remember something I wanted to speak to ‘em about,” he whispers. Dragging his nails gently over the nape of your neck once more, Seonghwa smiles when you finally lean into his touch with a quiet rumble. He thinks you look positively cat-like. When one set of lashes flutters against your cheek in a tired, pleased expression, Seonghwa could coo at the endearing look. He withholds only to save you the embarrassment of his mother-hen tendencies.

Your one eye flickers over his expression once more before you relent and nod your head just once. Seonghwa’s hand begins to pull away from your head, and this time you do make a tiny sound of sadness. The eldest feels his heart squeeze at your reluctance to be parted from him, leaning close to drag his thumb over the stiff material of your mask with a sweet touch before he stands upright once more.

“I’ll be back in a minute, okay? You and Jongho finish up and join us for dinner soon.”

You let out a short exhale through your nose, a sound they’ve taken to signify your agreement. Jongho’s lips twitch at the noise, trying to hold back the laugh he wants to let out.

“Okay,” you whisper softly beneath your breath as you lean back against the back of the log. Seonghwa smiles and finally shifts his stance to leave, only pressing a gentle kiss to Jongho’s brow before walking off. Your head tilts one last time as Seonghwa leaves, wondering if perhaps one day he’ll kiss your head too when he takes his leave.

The archer finds Yunho before Hongjoong. The tallest of Ateez is easy to collect when Seonghwa gives him a meaningful look. The tension in the eldest’s brow must convince Yunho that there is something important he is needed for because he immediately follows after Seonghwa. The two find themselves in the Captain’s cavern, his and Seonghwa’s really, standing before the long-haired leader with a small frown on the archer’s lips.

Hongjoong mimics the frown, coming to a stand behind the desk currently holding a plethora of worn maps.

“What’s wrong?”

Seonghwa sighs, squeezing his fists together before he turns to face Yunho with a solemn expression.

“When’s her birthday?”

Yunho’s brow quirks at the same time the tension in his shoulders finally loosens a notch. Sighing softly, he licks his lips and answers.

“Tiny’s?”

Seonghwa nods, the expression on his face unchanging: serious and solemn, as if the situation was as grave as a wake. Hongjoong glances between the two men, his brow now lifted in surprise, but he says nothing.

“It’s been three years since she’s been with us,” Seonghwa murmurs tersely. “But we haven’t celebrated her birthday. The first year I could understand missing it – I mean, she was still adjusting to Ateez, and even after that she’s still a little apprehensive. Not that I blame her, of course – I just… It’s been three full years and I can’t believe we’ve missed her birthday at least three times.”

Yunho’s bottom teeth sink into his lip and his eyes suddenly dart towards the floor. He swallows once, shifting on his feet and sighs as he ponders how to answer Seonghwa’s question. The eldest watches his partner with that same, tense look and his eyes glisten with something sad – something understanding, as if he knows Yunho’s answer before he speaks it aloud.

“I don’t know,” Yunho finally answers quietly. He looks down at his feet, unable to meet his elder’s eyes. His eyes squeeze shut with another sigh that shakes through his shoulders. He repeats himself louder, still just barely above a whisper. “I don’t know.”

Hongjoong steps forward from behind his desk. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?”

“I mean I don’t know,” Yunho whispers sadly. “And she doesn’t either.”

Seonghwa licks his lips, grasping at strings as he scrambles to find the right words to say.

“I don’t understand. How can she not know her own birthday?”

Yunho won’t look up from his feet. His fingers curl into fists and the tips of his nails dig into his palms from the tightness of his grip. He can’t bring himself to loosen his hold.

“Tiny, uh… After everything that happened with her – with that village, they don’t particularly regard her… fondly, you know?”

Yunho speaks slowly and methodically, as if trying carefully to pick the right words to say. His tone is terse and cold, the disdain for the village of his past more than evident in his voice. Hongjoong looks up at his partner with a frown still on his lips, his heart pulsing sadly in his chest.

“But she doesn’t know her own birthday? No one in her village told either of you?”

Yunho sighs again, finally looking up at his Captain with grief plastered across his features in an expression neither man can ignore. Seonghwa is already stepping forward, settling an arm over Yunho’s shoulders and rubbing his thumb across the taller man’s jaw.

Yunho leans closer to Seonghwa and continues, voice deep and throaty with the weight of his words. “We celebrated it once. Back when we were young – back when… Daia was still around.”

Hongjoong looks away.

“But even then,” Yunho continues softly, trying not to think of the bony cage casting shadows of your quivering form. You were so young. Little fingers grasped the cold bars that separated him from you, desperately whispering a plea for him to leave. He should have known your father wouldn’t let you celebrate your birthday like he and the other children did. But the smile on your face was so pure, so genuinely happy that he could never utter the words that may wipe it away.

“We didn’t know the exact date – just that she was born in the spring. Her father… well he killed the attendants that assisted her mother through labor. Not that we could prove it, of course. Anyone around for Bug’s birth… isn’t around anymore. And Bug was raised kind of secluded the first few years of her life. No one knows exactly when she was born and her father certainly wouldn’t say.”

Seonghwa’s eyes continue to glisten with that broken look, and he licks his drying lips before he speaks. His heart throbs painfully, echoing the sadness in his face.. “And… after Daia wasn’t around anymore?”

Seonghwa hates that he asks.

Yunho shifts on his feet and looks away again.

“I, uh… I don’t know much of what happened after Daia…” he trails off for a long moment. “By that time, the village and her father turned their backs on Bug, and I… I was exiled a few years later.”

Seonghwa thumbs over Yunho’s jaw again, trying to soothe his lover’s agony. Hongjoong steps closer and lays his hand across Seonghwa’s back, their combined sadness near tangible in the cavern hall.

“Bug’s birthday…” Yunho finally continues. “She’s never seen it as a good thing, you know? Her father and the village certainly didn’t see it that way.”

Seonghwa’s eyes sadden, the shine of his irises dulling at Yunho’s confession. He turns over his shoulder to look at Hongjoong and presses his lips together, as if regretting bringing up the topic altogether.

“A good thing?” Hongjoong whispers.

Yunho shakes his head, his frown dragging down his lips as he breathes softly. “Not something worth celebrating. The day she was born was… the start of everything bad, I guess.”

Seonghwa’s eyes squeeze shut, the burn of tears forcing pressure to build in the corners.

“Sometimes I think,” Yunho whispers tiredly, his eyes cloudy and unfocused as he stares into the distance. “I think she might hate it; that she might despise the day of her birth because of all the pain that came after.”

Hongjoong takes a deep breath in through his nose, trying to soothe the anguish that swells inside his ribs. There’s grief there, rage too, settling in the pit of his stomach and pushing upwards into his chest and throat. It’s not directed at you – it could never be. It’s towards your father, towards your village, towards anyone that has looked at you with disdain and uttered that foul moniker he knows makes you flinch.

“I’m sorry, Yun.”

Yunho shakes his head, leaning into Seonghwa’s hand and looking down at Hongjoong with his eyes glistening with welling tears. He swallows, clearly resisting the urge to cry, and kisses Seonghwa’s thumb when it brushes his mouth. “‘S okay, Seonghwa. I know your intentions were honorable.”

Seonghwa nods, finally leaning forward until his head rests against Yunho’s collarbone. An arm wraps around the eldest’s shoulders and Hongjoong presses himself against Seonghwa’s back, encasing both him and Yunho.

“So don’t bring up her birthday, then?” Hongjoong whispers, frown still drawing his lips downward. He speaks the question into Seonghwa’s shoulder blade, his lips grazing the tunic covering his skin.

Yunho is silent for a long moment. No one speaks and the sounds of their hushed breaths are all that echo through the hollowed cavern. Yunho ponders his Captain’s question in the silence and thinks of your growth in the years you’ve spent in their camp. Would you rather they never mention your birthday again? Or would you appreciate a different kind of memory to replace the shaded pains of the ones long past?

Soon after, Yunho leans forward to bury his face into Seonghwa’s hair before he breathes deeply and pulls back, a small quirk lifting the corner of his lips. He thinks of you and that youthful grin that used to grace your lips more often as a child. Yunho recalls the mischief in your smile and the wonder that would flash across your eyes, and he begins to twist an idea around his thoughts. It’s that look he wants to see again. He always wants to see it; the mischief, the awe, the teasing grin you used to throw over your shoulder to get him to chase you through the training grounds. He wants that so badly.

“Actually, Captain…”

Hongjoong peels his head away from Seonghwa’s shoulder, looking up to meet Yunho’s eyes with a raised brow and a question in his eyes. “Hmm?”

Yunho finally manages a fraction of a smile, stroking his hand over Seonghwa’s shoulders as he speaks.

“I think there might be a way we can show her that her birth is something worth celebrating. I’ll need your help though.”

“Anything.”

“Anything for her,” Seonghwa finishes at the same time Hongjoong speaks.

Yunho’s heart swells. The soft grin on his features begins to stretch, mirrored by his two elders. Pride begins to surge beneath his skin and it makes him feel fuzzy.

“What do you need?” Hongjoong whispers into the fraction of space separating their lips. Yunho huffs a smile, leaning closer until his mouth brushes against his leader’s.

“How do you feel about a little trip, Captain?”

Time passes easily. About a week goes by after the conversation between you, Jongho and Seonghwa before Hongjoong announces that Ateez will be spending a few nights traveling away from camp. He won’t say where they’re traveling to nor why they’re going, but there’s a mischievous grin on his lips when you tilt your head in suspicion. No one will tell you anything about the adventure other than handing you a cloth pack to gather some things for the trip.

Mingi helps you clean your blades and slides them into the scabbards on your back for you. Seonghwa packs food away carefully and slides extra servings of dried and cured meats into your pack followed by the fruit he knows you and Jongho love. San and Yeosang sit by your side as you help sort the first aid supplies the camp may need. The inky vines wrapping around Yeosang’s forearms flashes from beneath his sleeves, and you find yourself following the sight of the tattoo each time you peek a glimpse of golden skin covered in leafy shapes.

San laughs and raises an eyebrow at his lover when he flicks his shirt above his waistband playfully, showcasing the span of scales descending over his hip and up his waist. He giggles when you reach forward to pull his shirt higher over his side, eager to follow the lines of ink up his torso. San pushes your hands away and promises to show you one day. Wooyoung enters the cavern a moment later and exchanges a knowing look with San, as if the same pattern of obsidian scales crawls up the opposite side of his own torso.

On the morning Hongjoong announced their leave, you pack the last of your things diligently in the cloth pack given to you. There’s something fond rippling through your chest as you slide a hand over the large tunic laid across your bed.

The sensation seeps all the way down to your toes, a bittersweet happiness that arose from the realization that you’ve never… owned things before.

In that village, nothing was ever yours. It was always stolen or taken, never owned.

But now…

Now there’s all kinds of things in your corner of the medical cavern. There’s the little rope of twine with eight little beads Yeosang gave you to fiddle with so you wouldn’t pick and pull at your nails. There’s the bear-hide blanket Jongho handmade when you started to grow cold in the winter nights. A pile of spare clothes tailored to fit your size sits beneath your bed. A hollowed shell of smooth, rich cream sits beside you, specially made for you by Wooyoung and San when they noticed your scars were particularly aching in the cold weather. There’s a whetstone and cleaning tools beside your swords, left there by Mingi when he noticed your blades were dulling. Seonghwa always leaves a myriad of flowers beside your bed each week, and the dried stems of all his past bouquets hang above your on a piece of twine Joong brought you. There’s armor and chainmail beneath your bed, presented by Hongjoong with a shy smile. He cleans them for you when he thinks you’re not looking, ensuring the armor stays in good shape and protects you well. One of Yunho’s thicker tunics lies at the foot of your bed, a staple of your growing closet of clothes. He knows you like having his scent nearby. There’s books too, ones from the medical cavern and ones from Wooyoung, who you’ve discovered is quite the avid reader.

There’s just… all sorts of things.

And you’ve never really owned things before. It’s strange. And quite enjoyable, you decide.

You like owning things. You like being part of Ateez – being part of a family.

With your lips twitching upwards into a fond smile, you stand with the last of your belongings and slide the straps of your cloth pack over your shoulders. It sits a little strangely on your back but you huff and step out of the cavern anyway.

The rest of Ateez is already outside, shuffling the last of their belongings into storage and closing up the cave system behind you. A wooden sort of door slides shut behind you and the viny, earthen cover falls over it. It’s perfectly concealed from the wild, appearing just like any other cropping of rocks and stone. You marvel at their ingenuity and turn to find Wooyoung approaching you with a smile on his lips.

“Good morning, Bug. Are you ready?”

Your head tilts with a question as Wooyoung’s hands shift upwards to the straps of your pack. He raises a brow once, always asking for permission before he touches, and you shift closer and slide your hands onto his hips with a nod of your head. Wooyoung’s smile seems to widen, if at all possible, and he carefully begins to adjust the straps of your pack so it sits better across your back. Your gaze follows his hands, tracing over the fading scar on his one wrist – the space where a rusty shackle used to sit. Your lips quirk happily at the sight of the missing metal cuff, now long buried in the earth. He hums happily at the feeling of your hands on his waist, and chuckles beneath his breath when he feels your hands attempting to weasel under his shirt – likely another attempt to get a look at the tattoo you know sits there.

Wooyoung huffs a breath as you skate a gentle hand over his bare hip, focusing on the wavy shape of an oscillating line your draw over his skin. He translates the word as ‘what’ and understands your inquisition to mean ‘Ready for what?’

“Can’t tell you,” he laughs, his chest shaking with the motion as you squeeze his hip in retaliation. “Sorry, baby. Captain’s orders; take it up with Hongjoong if you want to know so badly.”

Your one eye rolls and Wooyoung laughs again, that bright, cackling sound echoing through the trees in a burst of noise that makes your heart flutter. You like Wooyoung’s laugh.

“C’mon you two!” Hongjoong calls from a distance, already beginning to pace towards the southwest. “We’re burning daylight. Let’s get moving.”

You respond with a choked hum despite knowing your Captain can’t hear it. Wooyoung grins, finally satisfied with the adjustments he’s made on your pack, and turns over his shoulder to call back, “We’re coming, Captain. Relax a little. It’s barely dawn, we’re on schedule.”

You don’t need to see Hongjoong to know what expression the Captain has on his face. A tiny smile appears on your lips and when Wooyoung turns back to face you with a hand held out in offering, his grin beams once more.

“C’mon, baby. You wanna walk with me and Sannie today?”

Your answering nod is a little too eager, but Wooyoung doesn’t mention it.

To you, anyway. The smug grin he shoots over his shoulder at Mingi and Yunho is met with a sigh and an eye roll. The vulgar gesture Mingi throws back goes unseen by you too.

Seonghwa sees it though, and the sound of Mingi’s squawk when he’s slapped across the shoulder by the archer makes Wooyoung laugh again.

It’s springtime. The forest is filled with bright shades of emerald green and flowers have begun to sprout along patches of sunlight. Lupin tickle at your ankles when you pass and you watch their lilac and lavender petals sway in the wind with a fond expression. Your last bouquet from Seonghwa was fresh Lupin flowers, a growing favorite of yours he has noticed.

Wooyoung holds your hand as you walk, sometimes shifting to allow San to take his place. They talk happily as you stride through the forest, following Yeosang and Jongho as they lead your band of warriors through the trees. You still don’t know where you’re going nor why you’re going there, but you trust your Captain and you trust your family.

Eventually, you unlink your hands from San to step ahead and walk besides Mingi and Yunho. San’s resounding pout and soft sigh are lost on you, but Wooyoung slides his hand into his partner’s empty fingers with a grin and a teasing poke to San’s side. Mingi intertwines his fingers with yours with a beaming grin and a happy chuckle, swinging your hands between you as you walk. He points out the flora and fauna he recognizes along the hike, explaining their uses as he recalls Yeosang’s teachings. He mentions the honey-haired healer’s tattoo sleeve of medicinal herbs and shows you some of the plants he recognizes to be inked into Yeosang’s skin. You eagerly categorize the leaves and petals of each plant, hoping that you’ll one day be able to find each one decorating Yeosang’s skin.

The first night away from camp is spent sleeping beneath the stars.

Your group of nine lays huddled together in a clearing in the pines, with a small fire burning quietly in the center for warmth. Shifts for watch are assigned and you find yourself curling between Yunho and San that night with a promise to take the final watch with Seonghwa. With cicadas clicking in the distance and a cool breeze rustling the branches above you, you find sleep easy that night. Strangely enough, despite resting out in the open with no cover around, you find you can sleep calmly. Nestled between your Yunho and your San, their body heat keeping you warm even underneath the fur blankets swaddled around you, you feel safe enough to sink into a well-earned sleep. You know the others will wake you if there’s trouble lurking about. They would never let anything happen to their family.

The next day is spent between Hongjoong and Seonghwa, happily listening to their stories and eagerly nudging the both of them to show you some of the ink decorating their skin. Once you found out about Yeosang’s tattoos, there was nothing holding you back from asking the others about their own. Seonghwa relents with a teasing grin towards Hongjoong, showing you the pattern of large scales that crawl up his forearms. You trace the delicate scales with a happy sound, not noticing the shiver that crawls down Seonghwa’s spine. Hongjoong rolls his eyes at his partner, but he almost wishes to show you the ink decorating his back and spine too. He only waves you away with a laugh when you turn to him with a tilt of your head and a happy question on your lips.

That night you sleep between Yeosang and Jongho, one of your legs wedged between the youngest’s and your hand clumsily intertwined between the healer’s fingers. This time, the nine of you settle in a cliff alcove, sheltered from the fog and the light drizzle of rain that spatters through the forest around midnight.

There’s no telling how far you’ve traveled from Ateez’s hollow. It’s been two days of mostly hiking and stopping for breaks and meals, but you’ve long grown used to strenuous labor so the walk is not nearly as difficult as you once thought it to be. You still have little to no knowledge on your destination as your Captain is tight-lipped about the matter. He only gives you soft smiles and quiet laughter when you nag him about where or why you’ve left camp.

On the third and last day of your long journey, you walk between Yeosang and Jongho at the front of your pack. The two have been leading you for three days, seeming to know the way without needing a map or compass. Every once and a while, Yeosang looks up at the night sky and lifts a hand to palm at the stars. You understand he must be checking your position, ensuring that they’re still on the right path, but you don’t ask. You find Polaris winking down at you each night with a fondness in your chest, and you give her a gentle, barely-there smile each time you see her.

The healer and his partner pace through the trees with newfound urgency that morning. The two members eagerly shuffle through the trees with beaming grins and an energy that you cannot help but mimic. They’re excited about something – unfathomably so.

“We’re almost there, honey,” Yeosang encourages you, holding out a hand to help you scale the final boulder before you begin your descent back down the mountainside. “Just another mile or so, I promise.”

You trust him.

The others have begun to feed on the buzzing atmosphere building in the group. There’s tension simmering, but a good kind, as if there’s something awaiting your family at your destination. You don’t know what it is, but it must be something good if they’re eagerly beginning to quicken the pace.

Soon after you begin your descent down the small mountain, the dense foliage of pine trees and packed soil gives way to something softer – something you’ve never quite seen or felt before. It’s pliable and squishy beneath your feet, allowing your weight to sink into the material with each step. It leaves footprints in your wake, the ground shifting and moving beneath your feet.

Sand.

It’s sand.

You know it’s sand because Yeosang has some collected in a small jar in the medical cavern. You’ve never seen it before: sand or the sea. You found the tiny bottle of eroded stone once and carefully examined it with a puzzled expression until Yeosang found you. The miniscule grains of rock and shell shifted in the bottle as Yeosang explained where it was from.

You listened to him for hours that day.

He talked about the sea and his life as a captain of his own ship from the hour of the sun’s peak until it descended beneath the horizon. You were fascinated. Eagerly hanging onto every single one of his words, you listened to Yeosang with a rapture you couldn’t describe. He spoke of the ocean and the smell of salt in the fresh air, mentioning that there was a particular hint of something so ocean-like in the scent that he couldn't begin to describe. Yeosang described the sand and the shore, detailing how the plush sand like the stuff in his bottle gave way to harder packed ground the closer you grew to the sea. He talked of how it felt to play in the waves and to feel the cool touch of the ocean on his skin.

You marveled at him for hours, longing desperately to one day know the smell he spoke of, to feel the ocean breeze tickle your skin and to feel its waves brush against your feet.

It sounded wonderful.

So when the sand beneath your feet begins to thicken, giving way to clumsier footsteps and the sound of something roaring in the distance, you perk upwards.

Your entire body slams to a halt, startling San who walks behind you. Jerking upwards, your one eye darts over to Yeosang, who stands with Jongho at his side, already looking at you. There’s this look in their eyes; something fond and gentle – an expression you’ve begun to recognize. They watch you as you begin to piece together the information you’ve gathered of this little trip, smiles on their faces as you realize where they’ve taken you.

At your side, San begins to bend forward, his hands reaching out to pull at the laces of your boots and chuckling beneath his breath. You reach out to stabilize yourself on his shoulder as you make a sound of confusion.

‘What’s going on?’ you try to question without speaking.

At your back, Yunho runs a hand down your spine and soothes the tension in your shoulders. You reach back, grasping his hand with a strength that surprises you and draw that oscillating squiggle across the back of his hand with a bewildered expression.

‘What’s happening?’

There’s another word you want to say. One you don’t have a translation for. A word you’ve never spoken or seen.

Ocean. The sea.

You don’t have a word for it.

But you can smell it now. That salty, fresh sort of scent with a hint of something you cannot place. Just like Yeosang described.

The sea.

San taps your leg, garnering your attention and helping you lift your foot so you can place it on his knee. He’s kneeling at your feet, one leg propped up to lift your foot and the other in the sand beneath him. The healer pulls at your laces, beginning to untie your shoes and pull them from your feet with a grin.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs with that low timber that makes you shiver. “Let’s get these off.”

Your held tilts in confusion. Seonghwa chuckles behind you, leaning into Mingi’s side and shooting a look over at Wooyoung. “Gotta take your shoes off unless you want sand in the soles, Bug. It’ll be a pain to walk back with all that in ‘em. I promise you’ll never be able to get it all out.”

Hongjoong laughs from beside Jongho, the Captain throwing his head back with a knowing grin. “Speaking from experience, huh, darling?”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and ignores his lover, dropping a hand to intertwine with Wooyoung’s. The younger eagerly locks their fingers together, smiling happily and leaning his head onto Seonghwa’s shoulder as you process everything.

The others begin to pull off their own shoes, tying them to their packs or holding the laces in their fingers. Mingi laughs and pushes Wooyoung when he bends over to undo his laces, and when Wooyoung stumbles, he shouts indignantly and lurches upwards for revenge. Seonghwa laughs and tries to settle them, only to end up yanked out of the way by a grinning Yeosang. Wooyoung and Mingi screech at each other, beginning to race down the sand towards the roaring sound that continues to swell in the distance.

You worriedly look down at San, his dark irises already looking up at you with adoration swirling behind them. The healer pulls off your sock and carefully sets your foot back onto the sand, watching as you marvel at the plush, cool material beneath the soles of your feet.

“C’mon, tiny,” Yunho laughs behind you, chest rumbling as he speaks. The vibration echoes through your back from how close the warrior is pressed against you. He grins when you shiver pleasantly. “We’ve gotta catch up.”

San lifts your other foot delicately and places it on his waiting knee, repeating the process of taking off your shoe and sock before he ties the laces together and stores them away in his pack. Before he sets your foot back onto the sand, San’s eyes twinkle with something mischievous.

He leans forward and drags his fingers across the skin of your calf, eyes crinkling as he smiles. You look back down at him with your stomach fluttering pleasantly, watching as San leans forward and presses his lips to the side of your calf.

Oh.

His lips skate over the muscle and his hand rests where your thigh connects with the knee. You feel your breathing still. Air catches in your lungs, and some burst of emotion lurches into your throat as you stop and stare down at the healer with one widened eye. You can feel the smile on San’s soft lips as he drags his mouth from your calf to your knee, kissing your skin sweetly as he goes. He drifts over scars both fresh and faded, but does not stop moving as he ascends up your calf. San leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake, your skin practically shivering under his touch and lighting ablaze when he pulls away.

Oh.

You stare open-mouthed at the healer when San finally slides a hand down your leg and deposits it onto the sand. You lick your lips once, trying desperately to come up with words to say, but there’s nothing. Just the trail of blazing heat San left behind and a roaring fire beginning to spread inside your chest. You can practically feel the heat in your face, and you lift a hand to palm at your cheek as San watches with a teasing grin. Your figure practically vibrates as you shiver through the emotion bursting through you.

“San…”

Said healer mimics your shiver as you whisper his name, fingers dancing along your calf before he stops. He presses one final kiss to your knee, at the crease of the joint, and this time your eye slides shut with a shiver. The plush feeling of his lips against your skin is ambrosia for your soul and the barest touch of moisture is left behind when he finally pulls away.

He looks up at you with honey in his irises, hand skating down your calf once more and smiles.

“C’mon, Bug. We’ve got places to be,” he teases, saccharine timber never failing to make you melt.

As if he wasn’t the one distracting you.

Finally, you’re able to squeeze his shoulder thankfully and San beams up at you in the way that makes those sweet little dimples poke out of his cheeks. You nearly lean forward to caress a finger of the indents that make your heart mushy, but still as the cool sand sinks between your toes.

It’s… soft.

The sand melts beneath your soles like butter, cradling your heels and caressing your skin like silk. You wiggle your toes and awe at the feeling, watching the sand shift and move with your lips just barely parted in wonder. San watches from your feet, his gentle eyes roaming over your partly-concealed face and grinning at the expression plastered across your features. Your lips are parted, but just barely, taking deep breaths to inhale the fresh air of the sea breeze and one eye dilated with awe. San's heart thumps vibrantly beneath his ribs, a song of your name. It calls out to you sweetly, and San swears that when he runs his hand across the bare skin of your leg, brushing over scars and broken skin, he can hear your heart call his name in return.

Your one eye darts upwards to meet your Captain’s gaze.

Hongjoong stares at you with some ineffable softness in his expression. He reaches a hand out to grasp your fingers, helping you step forward away from San. The healer stands from his kneeling position, his own footwear now missing, and joins you at your side.

“You like it?” Hongjoong whispers as you near.

The vigorous nod of your head is almost comical, and Hongjoong chuckles beneath his breath. Yes. Yes you like it.

San beams at your side, unable to stop the mirthful sound of his laughter. It erupts from his chest in that giggling way that you adore. You tilt your head to look at him, your chest swelling and heart thumping with the tumultuous feelings surging within you. San reaches out to run a hand down your arm and you lean close offering a single line of ‘thanks’ across his palm.

Yunho leans forward and pecks a kiss across your forehead, directly over the mask concealing the right half of your face and then turns to walk after Wooyoung and Mingi, San at his heels. He doesn’t acknowledge the kiss, but your heart jumps into your throat regardless. Your fingers itch to follow him, twitching in an attempt to reach for him, but you turn back to your Captain instead.

Hongjoong is still looking at you, that ineffable softness still radiating from him. “C’mon, angel. Let’s go see the ocean.”

You’ve never been more excited.

Hongjoong begins pulling you in the direction the others have disappeared in, following them over the dunes of sand. At first, he pulls your awestruck figure behind him as you make your way through the deeping sand, turning back to watch you marvel at the grains of white and cream colored grains. Your feet drag, slowing the two of you down as you continue to look down at the sand beneath you. At one point, you can’t resist the temptation and you stop, carefully pulling your hand from Hongjoong’s to bend at the knees and drop into the sand.

“Woah, angel!” Hongjoong gasps as you let go of his hand and urgently drop into the earth below. “Careful!”

Dragging your fingers through the silky material, you watch the tiny pieces of sediment cascade back into the hills beneath you as they trail between your fingers. The sand is cool to the touch and gentle as it scratches against your skin. You thought it would be rough, but it’s not. Not this sand anyway.

Seonghwa chuckles behind you, stopping to drop his hands beneath your shoulders and gently lift you back up to your feet. The others are little specks in the distance, just a few hundred yards away. The eldest carefully sets you on your feet and slides a hand down to intertwine with your own.

“C'mon, lovebug. We haven’t even reached the good part yet.”

The good part? You wonder. How could it possibly get any better than this?

But as the crashing sound gets louder with each step you take and the smell of salt continues to grow stronger, you begin to realize what the good part is.

Soon after, it becomes you dragging Hongjoong and Seonghwa through the sand dunes. Eagerly tugging them behind you as you race towards the others, you sink into the sand and stumble a few times, only catching yourself when either member scrambles to grab your waist. You push quicker through the deepening sand each time you right yourself, racing through the dunes until you finally see it.

The sea.

And you stop moving.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa nearly crash into your back as you freeze, body halting at the top of the sand dune. Your one eye is transfixed on the view before you, mouth parted and body slack with awe.

Waves are crashing along the shore, breaking into foamy surf as they collide with the cream-colored sand. There are little birds with thin, long legs dancing in the shoreline, pecking at things in the packed sand. You watch with fascination as they rush away in a flock from an oncoming wave. When the foam finally settles, they return to their feeding grounds, continuing to peck away at something beneath the darker sand. The smell of salt fills your senses and there’s a brush of water against your skin as a breeze carries a mist of salt onto the shoreline.

You’ve never seen so much… color before.

The ocean is blue. Green too, and teal and dark and bright, and every color in the range you can possibly think of. It’s aquamarine in the peaks of crashing waves and a darker cyan in the deepness of the salty water. There’s pale blue, creamy skies and even paler cream-colored clouds. You nearly wish you could reach out and touch one.

It’s wonderful. And it’s so much more than you think you deserve.

With awe on your features and mouth slightly parted, you stare mystified at the sea before you. Hongjoong steps up beside you, the others starting to circle back to stand nearby. They just stand there… watching you for a minute.

They watch your one pupil dilate and your expression softens into wonderous glee. Their hands intertwine with each other, fingers squeezing one another and hearts thumping happily in their chests. There’s pride there, and affection too, roaring madly beneath their skin and calling out to the sea with a throaty, triumphant call.

You like it. You like the sea.

And they like you.

Hongjoong slides a hand down your arm until he can gently link your scarred fingers with his own. Your attention briefly shifts away from the sea to look over at your captain.

His soft brown hair rustles as the sea breeze flutters through the strands, and Hongjoong smiles. Eyes scrunching into a beaming grin, the one that you like so much, he offers a squeeze of your palm. The scar crossing his one eye moves with his expression and you adore the way it looks when he smiles. Chocolate brown irises flicker in the brightness of the sunlight and for a moment, you think you much prefer the color of his eyes than the enchanting blue-green of the sea.

But it’s tough competition, of course.

Hongjoong squeezes your hand once more, fully drawing your attention back to him, and he leans close to carefully grasp the side of your face. His palm gently cups your mask, stroking his thumb over the tough material with a delicateness you cannot fathom deserving. But he touches you regardless, even if it's the mask instead of your skin. Hongjoong doesn’t care that you continue to wear it. None of them do. It’s a part of you, and they’ll continue to care for you all the same.

“Are you happy?” The Captain inquires, licking his lips as he watches you.

The vigor in your nod nearly makes him laugh. His beaming grin only seems to widen and you find yourself stunned at how beautiful he looks happy.

“Yeah? That’s good. I’m glad you’re happy, angel.”

You want to ask something else. Something about why your little clan has ventured this far or perhaps something else, but you can’t begin to find the words for it.

You don’t need to though.

Hongjoong leans closer, his warm, umber eyes scanning your features as he whispers something only for you to hear.

“Happy birthday, Bug.”

You barely register the sentiment before your captain leans forward and gently presses his lips to the crown of your head.

You don’t breathe. Too frightened that any movement will force him to pull away, you stay remarkably still and stare numbly into Hongjoong’s chest.

His lips linger for a long moment against your hairline, and you feel the warmth of his exhale against your scalp. The feeling makes your stomach flutter pleasantly and suddenly your body feels like you’re going to vibrate out of sheer enjoyment. Another shiver tickles its way up your spine and you finally exhale shakily. Reaching a hand upwards, you clutch onto the hand Hongjoong has still cupping your cheek.

Her heart finally throbs with a dull ache.

Your birthday?

You didn’t even think…

Hongjoong exhales softly and bends to drop a second kiss onto your mask, just above where your right eye would be. It throbs suddenly, but not so painfully this time.

Your birthday.

They came all this way for you?

All of this… leaving the camp, walking all this way, spending nights on the road, showing you the sea for the first time… they did this to celebrate your birthday?

Your heart hurts.

No one has ever done that for you before.

You suppose Yunho and Daia tried once… but that didn’t end so well. Salt wells behind your one eye and your lip twitches just once, but it's enough for Hongjoong to catch. Your chest aches with the memory of your mother. It’s a hurt you could never quite soothe.

The Captain’s smile is still bright when he pulls away but there’s a sadness beneath the joy. No, not sadness, you suppose. Something empathetic – something… bittersweet.

Hongjoong knows. They all do.

“My birthday?” Your mouth parts to let out the croaked sound. Your voice has gotten better. The deeper, rough tone of your voice has begun to fade after finally learning to use it again. It’s beginning to return to what it used to be – slow and steadily.

From behind you, Yeosang hums deeply. You recognize the sound without turning to look at him. His voice always carries that undertone of sweet and smooth honey, and you can’t find any other way to describe it.

“Yeah, honey. You told me you’ve never seen the sea, right? We thought it would make a good birthday present.”

The healer is standing behind Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung at his sides and the rest of Ateez just beyond. They’re all here. For you.

You shift on your feet, barely able to restrain the wetness of your one eye as you attempt to face them. Your heart still throbs, but it’s more of a pleasant ache – a good one. A sea breeze rustles your hair. Three silver rings click against your mask; a comforting sound that reminds you of home – of Yunho. The scent of salt in the air fills you with warmth and the silky sand beneath your feet cradles you in the earth’s gentle hands. The world itself seems to wrap around you in its kindness, delicately embracing you as if asking for forgiveness.

It feels like your mother – like the hugs you can barely remember.

The burn of tears returns tenfold.

You’ve never celebrated your birthday before. It was never a day others regarded with joy, so you supposed it was only fair to see it the same way. You don’t even really know what day you were born. Father never told you – he never told anyone.

But… perhaps this day – the day Ateez has chosen for you – can be your birthday. Maybe this time it doesn’t have to be a bad thing anymore.

“We wanted to show you something new. Something good. Do you like it?” Wooyoung whispers as you process your feelings. His voice is apprehensive, as if he isn’t quite sure how you’ll respond to celebrating your birthday. You can barely hear him over the roaring sound of waves colliding with the shoreline and birds peeping in the surf.

You’re already throwing yourself into Wooyoung’s arms before a moment of silence can pass. You crash into his chest with a crooned sound, a desperate cry of joy.

“Yes!” You finally croak, the word sounding more like a sob than an agreement. “Yes, I like it!”

Wooyoung laughs happily as he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck with a joyful sound. His chest vibrates with his laughter and you love the way it feels against your body. One of your hands slides out from between you and you urgently grasp ahold of Yeosang’s shirt and tug him into your pile with a quick movement. San follows soon after, lured in by Wooyoung’s touch and suddenly you’re buried beneath a mountain of Ateez’s warmth.

Another wet sob leaves your lips, but it’s much closer to a laugh this time.

“I love it…”

And we love you.

He doesn’t say it aloud, but Wooyoung hopes you hear it anyway.

Seonghwa lets out a hearty laugh despite it sounding wet with his own tears, and he wraps an arm around Hongjoong’s shoulders as he tugs his captain close. The leader’s eyes are watery as he and the archer pile into your embrace. Mingi and Yunho follow quickly after, with the tallest of the two reaching out to snag Jongho’s tunic. The youngest is already moving, sliding beneath Yeosang’s arm to nuzzle into the healer’s side. One of his hands nestles between his lover’s ribs, resting atop your bicep. You push closer into their hands, warm and happy and still softly crying.

You love it.

It cannot possibly get any better than this. Not even the comforting breeze of the ocean air brushing over your skin nor the warmth of any roaring campfire could rival this feeling. There’s no warmth in the world that can surmount the heat of Ateez embracing you. Their hands carefully sweeping over skin leaves trails of pleasant heat in their wake, and the throb of your aching heart is only soothed by a soft coo leaving San’s lips. Wooyoung slides a hand over your head, pulling you closer into his neck, and you feel a bigger hand – Yunho’s, you know – scratch gently over your scalp. Another settles onto your hip, rubbing gentle circles into the bone. They’re Seonghwa’s, you recognize the calluses on his two fingers when they brush over the skin of your bare hip. Mingi’s hand settles across your back, resting between your shoulder blades. His firm touch and big hands are easy to decipher. Jongho’s wrap around your arm, strong and steadfast, just like you know him to be. Your captain’s smaller hand finds your fingers, sliding between them as you grip onto San with a fierce grip.

Hongjoong’s hands tremble when he twists his grip to drag a line down your left ring finger. His gaze finds yours, a watery smile on his lips when your mouth parts in shock and your one eye dilated beyond comprehension. The Captain finishes drawing the line at the tip of your nail, where each of his fingers meets the end of each of yours. Then Hongjoong slides his hand into yours and squeezes three times.

Yunho must have taught him that one.

Because no one else has ever uttered those words to you – least of all meant them.

Your grip tightens fervently, pulling until you can press Hongjoong’s hand into your chest and let him feel the racing pulse of your heart. It slams into your ribs with a thunderous pace, beating in a pattern you hope he can discern. You pull your head from Wooyoung’s neck just slightly. Just enough to lean down and press your lips to Hongjoong’s fingers.

You hope he knows what it means.

He does.

“Happy birthday, tiny,” Yunho murmurs into the shared space between the nine of you. “We’re so happy you’re here.”

You weep.

Ateez spends three nights and four days at the beach.

On the first, you don’t have the courage to venture too far into the shore. The roaring of waves crashing onto the sand is intimidating when you don’t know how to swim. You settle for watching the others splash and wrestle in the shallow sea. Their shouts of glee are enough joy to warm your heart.

You watch Mingi grapple with Hongjoong on the shoreline, huffing softly with a grin when Mingi inevitably gets the upper hand. The guard lifts Hongjoong over his shoulder and laughs deeply as he storms his way towards the sea.

“Put me down!” Hongjoong roars, smacking his hand against Mingi’s back. “Mingi!”

The guard only laughs and spins the two of them in the shallows as he wades deeper into the waves.

“Don’t you dare!”

You watch as Mingi laughs brightly once more, calling out a “too late!” as he unceremoniously dumps his captain into the sea.

Hongjoong dunks beneath the water with a roar, and for a moment you worry he won’t emerge again. He does, however, and lurches from the waves with an undignified shout and lunges towards Mingi as he laughs.

“Get back here!”

You grin and watch the two continue to wrestle in the waves.

Jongho takes you onto the nearby rocks and shows you the wonders of tide pools. He and Yeosang spent years living by the sea, and he murmurs hundreds of little facts about each of the animals he can find. Crouching down by a shallow pool, Jongho reaches into the cool water and ever so carefully lifts a sea star from the water. He cradles it delicately, leaving it half submerged as he pulls you closer with his other hand.

“This is a sea star,” he whispers, looking up at you and gesturing for you to crouch beside him. “You want to feel? You won’t hurt it.”

When you crouch at his side, Jongho pulls your hand towards him with a smile. Bent at the knees, you lean into his side and watch with a bated breath and marvel at the texture of the sea star still carefully held in Jongho’s hands. It’s soft and squishy beneath your delicate touch and you huff a smile as you watch with a mystified expression.

You watch some of the tiny feet of the sea star wiggle in Jongho’s hand and whip your head over to face him with a question on your lips.

Jongho is already looking at you, watching you instead of the sea star in his hands. He’s smiling, softly and sweetly, his eyes fixed on your one eye. They drift from your left one to where your right would be if not hidden behind the mask, then he drops them to your lips. Your breath stutters and you swallow shyly before Jongho lifts his eyes back to your own.

He smiles, as if nothing happened and continues, “See the poky creatures down here? The ones that look like they have needles? Those are urchins. The sea stars will eat those.”

It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to pull your gaze away from Jongho’s face.

At another tidal pool, Jongho points out a creature he calls an anemone. The vibrant teal and green color of its shape mystifies you and you lean closer to investigate it. Listening carefully to Jongho’s explanation of the anemone, you look back up at him with a question in your eyes.

“Yeah, you can touch that one too. Be careful though.”

You don’t understand his warning but carefully drop your hand into the pool to delicately caress the anemone anyway. The chill waters surround your skin and you lean closer to touch the creature, you let out a startled squeal when its sticky tentacles wrap themselves around your finger. Surprised, you lurch away from the pool, confusion in your face and hands braced on the rock beside you.

Jongho laughs so hard you think he might choke.

You turn to look at him with furrowed brows and an upset pout on your lips, a little disgruntled Jongho didn’t tell you that would happen.

The youngest continues to laugh at the utter confusion in your expression, finally bracing himself against you and apologizing.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, Bug. I couldn’t help myself!”

You frown and push gently at his chest, posing a little miffed at Jongho’s teasing. The youngest snorts and pulls you closer to his chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“I won’t do it again, I promise,” he laughs. “We should wash your hands though, the stingers on those anemones can leave toxins on your skin. I don’t want you to touch your face without cleaning your hands first.”

You huff and nod, letting him lead you away from the rocks and towards the others. When you find San, you race away from Jongho and bury yourself into his chest with a pretend pout. The healer wraps you up in his embrace without question, turning to look at Jongho with a raised brow. Jongho rolls his eyes and laughs.

Seonghwa and Wooyoung take you to collect shells in the afternoon.

Your footprints linger in the sand behind you as you hold the archer’s hand and walk along the shoreline. The sand is packed beneath your feet closer to the shore and you find that there are all sorts of different shells just above the water line.

You recognize some of the larger, smoother shells Yeosang and San use to store medicine sometimes. They’re scallop-shaped and hollow in the middle, and the healers like to use them for creams or other ointments. Seonghwa helps you carry some back to the healers who gratefully pile your collection into one of their packs. They can always use more shells in the medical cavern.

Further down the beach, you find a plethora of smaller shells and drop down into the sand to rummage through them. There’s hundreds of them, some twisting into points and others round at the edges. Some are still split into pieces and others are still whole. Some are closed like a locket. Seonghwa tells you to leave those ones alone – there’s still creatures living in those ones. You gasp and carefully set the shell back down into the sand ever so delicately. The archer smiles fondly at your care for the earth and her creatures.

One of the bigger shells that washes up on the shore catches your attention, and you rush over to the pristine, cream colored object. Yeosang called these conches. When you excitedly turn over the shell, you’re startled to find a spiny looking creature inside. A large claw grazes your hand and your heart lurches.

You shout in surprise, jerking away from the shell with a gasp.

“Bug?!”

Seonghwa is at your side in an instant, hands on your back and pulling you away from the shell. “What happened?”

He doesn’t know why you shouted at first, too worried something has hurt you. His hands slide across your shoulders, turning you to face him and urgently scanning you for injuries. But when he looks down at the crab claw emerging from the shell, Seonghwa feels his chest shake with quiet laughter. Your head jerks back to look at the archer.

“It’s alright, darling. You just startled the crab living inside this one. He won’t hurt you, honey.”

Each shell you turn over for the rest of the day is done carefully and gently, and Seonghea feels his heart tug affectionately at how cute you look doing so. You nudge one with a stick to see if any claws come out and Seonghwa has to bury his smile in Wooyoung’s shoulder.

“She’s so precious,” the warrior murmurs under his breath.

Seonghwa hums in agreement, his head lifting from his partner’s shoulder to find you waving them over excitedly.

“We’re coming, sweetheart!”

Wooyoung settles at your side with a grin and looks down at the smooth stones in your hands. There’s a few rocks mixed in with the more ornate looking shells you’ve gathered, and Wooyoung tilts his head in an attempt to decipher why you’ve called them over.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Seonghwa’s heart stutters at the beaming smile on your lips. You smile more and this is not the first he’s ever seen, but each time you look up at him with that grin on your face, Seonghwa feels his stomach flutter and pride swell from his gut. He almost bites down on his bottom lip to resist sending you back a grin of his own, but Seonghwa doesn’t. And he’s grateful he does, because the way your one eye crinkles with joy when he smiles down at you makes his cheeks burn and his skin tingle.

“Look!” You urgently whisper, swallowing around the word to repress how sore your throat is.

Directing his attention to the dark stones in your hands, Seonghwa’s brows furrow in confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

You lift the stone beside his face, pulling Wooyoung into your side as you do. The two of you face Seonghwa as the archer grows more confused. The dark brown, near ebony-colored stone is lifted just beside his temple and you watch with a marveled expression as you shift your gaze from the rock to his eyes.

“What is it?” Seonghwa urges.

Wooyoung grins, his teeth flashing as he laughs sweetly. His two-toned hair ruffles in the breeze and Wooyoung turns to face you, squeezing your hip as he slides an arm around you.

“That’s a good find, Bug,” he murmurs, looking back up at Seonghwa with honey in his gaze. “The same shade as his eyes. It matches him perfectly.”

You nearly vibrate with happiness, wiggling a little in Wooyoung’s arms as Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle. “Really?”

You nod fervently, reaching for his hand and dropping the smooth stone into his hand and curling his fingers around it. Seonghwa holds the rock carefully, not looking away from your one eye as he lifts it to press into his heart.

“Thank you, darling.”

You smile again, just a little twitch of your lips and nod. Then you turn to Wooyoung and weasel your way out of his grip to hold another up for him. This stone is a similar shade as Seonghwa’s, but just different enough that Seonghwa can see where you’ve matched this one to the exact hue of Wooyoung’s umber irises.

You hold it out to Wooyoung with a tilt of your head and Wooyoung has to resist the urge to lean forward and squish your cheeks. He’s rarely seen you so excited – so… at ease. It makes every muscle in his body eager with the urge to hold you close and squeeze you tight.

“For me?”

You nod excitedly and Wooyoung accepts the stone with a skip of his pulse. “Thank you, baby.”

He and Seonghwa exchange looks and Wooyoung slips the stone into his pocket, where he knows he’ll keep it safe.

“Help me?” You whisper softly, gesturing to the plethora of stones and shells beneath you. “For the others.”

“Of course.”

The two help you find six more stones, one of each of the other members of Ateez. Each one is the exact shade of their eyes – colors you know by heart.

Wooyoung cannot tell you that after the trip, the rest of the boys gather to look at the stones and shells you collected for them. He doesn’t tell you that Mingi finds some twine and they braid bands for each other, carefully depositing their gifts onto string and binding them to each other’s wrists.

On the first night, the nine of you sleep around a bonfire.

The crackling flames keep you warm from the evening’s cool breeze, but you don’t think you sleep at all. The excitement and pure glee from the day keeps you awake. Adrenaline still roars through your veins and you settle for watching the stars for a moment longer. You find the twinkling shape of Polaris easily, and whisper your thanks up at her, just like you do every night since Jongho pointed her out.

She winks back.

The fire continues to crackle and the smell of wood burning soothes your nerves. Eventually, you pull yourself from your bed roll, carefully maneuvering away from Yunho’s warm chest and wrap your blanket around your shoulders. Quietly, you make your way over to the massive piece of driftwood facing the shore.

Then, you drop silently beside Mingi, who sits and watches the sea. It’s technically his watch, but the guard faces the ocean as if he cannot bring himself to look away.

Mingi does not startle when you find your place at his side, only shifting slightly to allow you to get comfortable. As you settle, you scooch as close as you can towards Mingi’s broad chest. Your side presses into his as you rest your weight against him and Mingi smiles, still looking at the sea. He easily accommodates your weight and wraps an arm around your shoulder, covering both your forms with his blanket. You snuggle close, burying your face into his neck and continue to watch the waves crash against the shore as the moon illuminates their peaks.

You sit there for hours. Though you cannot sleep, excitement still pumping through your body, you find staying awake with Mingi is just as nice. Far more comforting, you’d even say. Mingi’s body heat keeps you pleasantly warm and his big arm stays wrapped around your waist. Soon after you settle, the guard drops his cheek onto your head and he breathes slow and deep.

Even when Yeosang relieves him of his shift, taking over his place for watch, Mingi remains still. The two of you stay there until neither of you can keep your slowly fluttering lids open any longer.

Yunho finds the two of you in the morning, and he kisses Mingi awake with a sweet grin and soft eyes. He brushes a hand through your hair and drops a kiss onto your head, eventually dropping onto your other side where he wraps an arm around both you and Mingi as the three of you watch the sunrise.

The second day, you finally find the courage to venture into the waves with San and Yunho at your sides. Yeosang stands in the waves, waiting for you.

San leads the way, walking backwards into the surf and holding both your hands. Yunho stands beside you, one of his arms reaching out to steady you and reassure you that he’s still there. You make eye contact with Yeosang and he winks at you. The honey-haired healer grew up in the sea. You know that if anything goes wrong, Yeosang will know what to do.

“Let’s go, tiny. You’ve got this,” Yunho encourages, softly nudging you forward as you apprehensively toe the water line.

You can’t swim. And you’ve never ventured into the sea before.

It’s a little daunting, but the dimples on San’s cheeks and the smile on his lips encourages you to keep walking. You clutch his hands with a vice grip and gasp as the cold, salty waves cascade over your toes.

“Sorry, lovebug. It’s a little cold.”

San laughs as you throw him a withering look. That information would have been helpful before you stepped into the sea. Yeosang laughs at your side, rubbing a hand along your waist and watching you shiver at the warmth of his touch.

No matter how many times they touch you, you cannot help the way it makes you feel.

“A little further and we can stop,” San murmurs, squeezing your hand when you stumble in the sand and pulling you closer. “C’mon, baby.”

A few steps further and you stand at Yeosang’s side, digging your toes into the plush sand beneath your feet and marveling at how the waves lap at your knees. It’s cold, but you don’t mind since it’s a reprieve from the midday sun. When you turn your back to the sea, a strong wave pushes you closer to San and he laughs when you stumble into his chest. Water splashes upwards, and you get your first taste of seawater.

“Woah!” San laughs, steadying you by the waist and watching as you stick your tongue out with an indignant sound. He can’t help the way laughter bubbles from his chest. You look positively betrayed by the ocean, as if the taste of salt on your tongue personally offends you.

Yunho and Yeosang dissolve into giggles behind San, leaning onto each other to support themselves. Your one eye narrows and you shoot them an angry look, but San thinks you look more like an angry, wet cat than anything scary. Of course, he would never tell you that.

“I’m sorry, Bug!” Yunho laughs. “You just look so funny!”

San listens to you grumble something under your breath, something that sounds like ‘showing him something funny,’ and then you bend at the waist and splash a mountain of water in his direction.

Yunho guffaws at the betrayal and San dissolves into his own laughter, bending at the waist and bracing a hand on his chest as he cackles. Your grin is positively menacing, Yeosang decides. He wonders if you’ll become as much of a brat as Wooyoung if this continues.

Yunho, now drenched in salt water and wet hair dripping into his eyes, enacts revenge and lunges towards you. San, ever the sweetheart, throws himself in between you and Yunho and the two sink into the waves with smiles.

Eventually, when your skin begins to wrinkle from the time you spend in the waves and the sun begins to set, Yeosang and you step away from the shore to settle against the same piece of driftwood that marks your temporary camp. Yeosang sits atop the log and you lay just below him on the sand. You lean against his leg, just watching the rest of the boys continue to dance and swim in the surf. The sound of their laughter makes your heart happy and their gleaming smiles leave a grin of your own on your lips.

It’s nice – smiling again, you mean. It’s a gift from Ateez they have not realized they’ve given, but you take care to treasure it regardless.

You wrap an arm around Yeosang’s tattooed calf, your fingers occasionally dragging along the pattern of thorns that descend from his thigh. They wind around his leg, ending at the bone of his ankle and you’ve seldom been able to keep your hands away from the obsidian ink since he showed you. This, of course, is much to Yeosang’s delight, and the honey-haired healer can barely resist the way he beams so brightly when your delicate hands skim across his tattoos again. He loves it when you touch him.

Mingi and Seonghwa leave the shoreline after a few minutes. They step away from the water to stoke the bonfire at the center of your makeshift camp. The flickering amber hues dance along burning bark and release a pleasant aroma onto the beach. You inhale deeply and lean further into Yeosang, humming happily when one of his hands reaches out to scratch along your scalp.

Head scratches have become one of your weaknesses, you suppose. All it takes is for one of them to run their nails along your head and you’ll sink into their embrace with a happy sigh and mushy bones.

When Mingi is satisfied with the roar of the campfire, he and Seonghwa press kisses to Yeosang’s hair and brush fingers over your hairline as they pace back towards the shore.

A harmonious shout of glee leaves San’s lips as Jongho tackles him into the shallow surf, and there’s an uproar of laughter from amongst the boys. San shouts something along the lines of being cold and twists in the waves in an attempt to pin Jongho beneath him. Jongho, easily the strongest of the nine of you, maintains his place above San but spits salt water out of his mouth in surprise when his partner douses him with a splash. In revenge, Jongho prepares to dunk San’s head beneath the water, only to be tackled into the sea by Yunho. The youngest lets out a squawk of surprise as he sinks into the water and the laughter begins again.

You turn your head towards Yeosang, resting your cheek against his knee and looking up at him with your one eye. You nudge him gently with your knuckles, drawing his attention to you.

“Are you going to join them?”

The honey-haired healer barely catches your question over the cacophony in the surf, but he smiles at the sound of your voice. He slides a hand deeper into your hair and scratches against the nape of your neck, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth when your eye flutters shut briefly.

His eyes, chocolate brown and gleaming with the flicker of flames before you, are warm and strong. They look down at you like you’re the only thing he sees – the only thing he wants to see.

It’s familiar. This moment is too.

Shivering gently from the weight of his gaze and bones feeling mushy and warm, you look up at Yeosang and wait patiently for his answer.

“No, not yet,” he whispers in return, expression soft and eyes tender. “I’m very happy where I am right now.”

You inhale deeply through your nose, recalling when he spoke the same words so long ago. The exhale that shudders through your lungs is accompanied by the sound of Yeosang’s deep, honey-sweet voice.

“I‘m happy here with you.”

He finally has the courage to say it.

You look away from Yeosang so he doesn’t see the water welling in your lone eye. The stroke of thanks you brush across his skin is enough to let him know what you mean. The swell of electricity zinging beneath your skin leaves you breathless and you lean into Yeosang’s legs to combat the shift in emotion.

The healer hums sweetly in response, unable to look away from you. He examines you as you watch his partners, lifting his head when another uproar of laughter erupts when Hongjoong overpowers Wooyoung in whatever game they’re playing in the waves.

But when you glance back at Yeosang shyly, you see it.

You see the way he looks at you now.

With stars in his gaze and affection glimmering in the shine of his irises, you see the way Yeosang’s features melt so sweetly as he watches you. He looks at you the way he looks at them; like he’s staring at his very heart and soul – like there’s nothing else in the world he’d rather gaze upon than your face warmed by the flicker of roaring flames and your one eye finally staring back into his. No apprehension, this time. No fear or confusion or worry or an amalgamation of all of them together. You just… look back at him.

Just like how he looks at you.

When Seonghwa and Mingi rejoin the parade, kicking up salt water and spinning through the shallows, the boys cheer gleefully and begin to dance. It’s chaotic and a mess of stumbling and laughter, but it’s dancing nonetheless. The sound of their joy is infectious and spreads along the beach until it reaches you and Yeosang.

But he’s not listening to them. He’s listening to you. His ears are trained on the sound that erupts from his feet, bubbling from your lips in a noise he’s been praying to hear.

Laughter.

You’re laughing.

There’s this bright, heart-stopping smile spread across your lips as you look up at Yeosang and listen to your family dance on the beach. Your shoulders shake softly with the movement of your laughter, and Yeosang can feel the vibrations of your chest pressed against his leg. It starts as a muffled giggle, barely concealed by your smile, but it deepens into a hearty laugh from deep in your belly.

He cannot tear his eyes from you.

You laugh.

You laugh and you look up at him with stars in your eyes and his heart in your hands, and it takes every fiber of his strength not to lean forward and drown himself in the taste of your lips. It’s all he wants – all he needs, he swears it. One taste of your lips would sate him for life, even though he knows he’d never be able to tear himself away again.

When you lean upwards, grabbing ahold of his fingers and pulling them towards you, Yeosang’s mouth parts to suck in a breath.

You kiss his fingers.

By the Gods, maybe that was a lie. One kiss would never be enough to sate him – there would never be enough of your touch or your kisses that could ever appease his soul. Even if he were immortal and your paths intertwined until the last of the stars burned from the sky, not even then would he have enough of you.

You laugh again, grinning up at Yeosang with a toothy smile and the corner of your mouth digging into your mask. If he wasn’t already sitting, he swears he would drop to his knees at your side.

He loves it – the sounds of your laughter. No matter how raw or croaked the sound is, he adores it. The sound of your voice once made his heart race with glee, but this… This is different.

It’s so much more.

This is joy. Unbridled and unashamed and so clearly you. It’s your laughter, your glee, your happiness that sinks beneath his sin and lights his nerves on fire. It’s your smile and your giggles that make his heart swell. Yeosang adores it. He adores you.

He cannot help the way he slides off the driftwood log and into the sand at your side. Yeosang is pulling you into his chest before you can question his actions. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls your head into his neck, pressing you as tight to his chest as he possibly can.

“You’re laughing…” he whispers as he huffs in disbelief. “Bug! You’re laughing!”

The second time Yeosang utters the phrase, it’s shouted cheerfully as he squeezes you tight into his chest. His heart thumps brazenly beneath his ribs, and he can feel the pulse of yours against his own. You giggle again, wiggling to readjust yourself as you sink into the honey of his embrace. Yeosang’s heart trills excitedly again.

Yunho’s head darts upwards from the beach, startled by Yeosang’s call.

“What?”

San hears Yunho’s whispered disbelief and stands from the surf, attention drawn over towards you and Yeosang. “What did he just say?”

“It’s Bug,” Hongjoong answers, standing behind Yunho with his eyes blown wide. His heart stutters once in his chest as he takes in the sight of your shoulders shaking gently with your giggles. He can’t hear the sound of them, but Gods does he wish he could. “Bug’s laughing.”

“Holy shit…”

Yunho takes off from the beach without another word. He doesn’t even hear who curses.

Sand kicks up from his feet as he sprints towards you and Yeosang with his heart in his throat and a watery grin on his lips. He doesn’t even need to turn around to know that San is the one on his heels. Yunho knows the sound of San’s muffled sobs just as well as he knows the beat of his heart. Wooyoung is not far behind, a bubble of laughter leaving his lips and a chain missing from his wrist. Nothing binds him to that place anymore. You set him free.

Hongjoong and Mingi chase after the others, and the Captain manages to get some revenge for the day before as he shoves his guard into the surf on the way. Hongjoong’s mirthful chuckles as Mingi shouts are heard when Jongho pulls Seonghwa behind him, urging the archer to move faster.

“Bug!”

Your head pulls from Yeosang’s neck, that toothy grin still on your face just as Yunho collides with you and the honey-haired healer. The two of you sway as Yunho’s weight sinks into your figures, but Yeosang sets an arm down into the sand to support you. The black and white strands of San and Wooyoung’s hair drip with salt water as they throw themselves onto Yunho’s lap with a shout. Mingi follows just after, likely having passed Hongjoong on the beach with the length of his strides. He shakes his wet hair as he clings onto Yunho’s back and Wooyoung complains despite the fact that he’s already soaking wet. The giggly sound of Mingi’s laughter makes you chuckle again.

You laugh, as if it’s as easy as breathing.

Yeosang watches, his eyes welling with happy tears as he continues to cling onto you with one hand. He watches you giggle and the others pile into your space and listens to his new favorite sound.

Gods, he adores you. He adores them – this family.

Yunho is crying, his lip wobbling as he buries his head into your hair. He’s at your back, chest shaking with the sound of his watery sobs.

“Tiny…” he cries, but it’s a happy weep. You reach around to cling onto one of his hands. Yunho squeezes you tight, stealing the air right from your lungs, but you don’t need it. You would happily breathe in the pure euphoria of this moment instead. “Tiny, you’re laughing.”

San buries his wet hair into your lap with a joyful sound and the giggles commence again. The healer’s heart throbs so strongly but so pleasantly he thinks it will burst. You have a laugh that makes others laugh with you. Just like Wooyoung, he realizes.

Your other hand drops from Yeosang’s back to brush through San’s hair once and the healer looks up at you with glimmering half-moon eyes and a dimple poking out of his cheek. You allow your finger to poke the sweet little spot this time. His cheek muscles ache from how big his smile is. San nuzzles closer to your stomach and you let yourself shiver pleasantly, far too happy to deny yourself the joy of this moment.

You’re pretty, San thinks to himself. So pretty. Especially when you laugh.

Wooyoung melts into Hongjoong’s side and the Captain wraps an arm around his shoulder. They stand just behind Yunho, burying their happy tears into each other as Seonghwa pulls them close. Mingi and Jongho sink into the sand behind Yunho and pull each other tight. The taller guard squeezes his eyes shut and presses his lips into Jongho’s forehead, desperately hoping all his adoration is conveyed through the kiss. Jongho reaches out to squeeze Yunho’s shoulder and rests his weight against his elder’s back.

“I know,” you finally whisper into the space that separates you and Yunho. “I’m happy.”

One hand lifts to pull the mask away from your face. Without a moment’s hesitation, your nimble fingers detangle the knot from behind you, and you drop the obsidian mask into the sand. A hand wraps around your fingers when you finally let it go. Someone draws a line along the length of your left ring finger and twines their fingers with your own. They squeeze three times.

You repeat the gesture, tracing a finger down the fourth finger on their left hand, right over the thin, dark band you know is tattooed there. You squeeze their hand three times. This sign needs no translation.

You open both eyes.

“I’m so happy.”

bonus:

stranger: so who would you choose; ateez or–

reader: ateez.

stranger: you didn't even let me finish, ateez or–

reader, not missing a beat: ateez. I choose ateez.

a/n: This currently takes place sometime after the main storyline (probably xD) so it accounts for the boys knowing parts of Bug’s past (not revealed but it’s mentioned they know). For now, I won't consider these oneshots canon simply because I won’t know where it fits in the timeline HAHA xD this is essentially just a little bit of fluffy comfort for those who have been missing Bug and the boys! I’m catching up on their story but I hope you enjoy this filler for now <33 ALSO disclaimer, don’t pick stuff out of tide pools! my marine biologist family is screaming at me for including that xD just leave the creatures alone in their habitats!

sorry if bug seems a little ooc here! Loren and I have decided that bug goes from black cat energy to golden retriever after enough time with atz :’))) This is supposed to take place sometime in the future where she’s healed a little more and is a little more curious and open. There are a lot of references to things that have yet to happen in ltm so this is kind of a teaser for those xD

also shoutout to the loml @eightmakesonebraincell for the majority of the ideas in this :D she's a real one xD

taglist: *If you don't see your name on this taglist, you may have been removed if your tag doesn't work :( let me know if you don't see your name and I'll try to see what we can do to fix it :D

@verseoks @smallfrye @istgcyj @rensunjun @flowrsforfun @justchaoticwhispers @gayliljoong @http-lovelyknow @kpopnightingale @rielleluvs @queentiti72 @paralumanniluna @chittaphonstar @dear-dreamie @bangtanxberm @havetaeminforbreakfast @knucklesdeepmingi @pingyu-in-wonderland @5sos-wdw @atzcoke @ddeonghwva @sophxom @khjcoo @sunukissed @becauseiloveyunho @atinymonbebestay @goldenstarmermaid @simplyaghostsworld @multifandomizer @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek @revehosh @mysticfire0435 @side-angel @taestrwbrry @billboard-singer @jenseok17 @parkthothwa8 @jcngh0-hq @dream-in-progress @dees-writing-corner @frankenstein852 @darkdayelixer @ateezkeepmysoul @maruskz @ahhhhhhhhhghh @honeyhotteoks @simeonswhore @jxxngieteez

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whimsicalwritingsandmore · 5 months

Text

Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

warnings: mention of being depressed [will add more as story progresses.]

status: completed! // Epilogue posted!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Book 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Epilogue

--------------------------------------------------

Book 2

Summary Preview: A new timeline is created, and a new life awaits you. But your past ghosts haunt you deeply. Given the chance to visit Seoul, you seek answers for your weird dreams, but answers aren't the only thing that awaits you

#ateez x reader #poly!ateez #poly ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez series #ot8 ateez x reader

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yourfatherlucifer · 5 months

Text

ATZ 9th Member Shenanigans

poly!teez x male!member!reader

warnings: slight polyamory, crack ateez, funny shit.

au: none

genre: fluff

wc: 438

tags:

@choism @k-hotchoisan @asherthehimbo @wooyoungqueen @mjyungi @yunho-mp3 @staytinyville @dinossaurz @sanspuppet @emtrades22

nets: @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kflixnet @pirateeznet @wonderlandnet

let me know if you'd like to be added to the permanent tag list!~ PLEASE REBLOG

MOMENT ONE

"Wooyoung!" You shouted, your hands balling into a fist, "I swear to god, if you left your dirty dishes in the sink, again, I am going to choke you."

You threw the sponge into the sink, before making your way to the man.

"And I swear, if you say you don't remember if it was you or not," you held your finger up in his face, "I will get Hongjoong."

Wooyoung's eyes widened, "Okay, okay! It was me, I'm sorry!" He set down his phone and scurried to the sink.

Did he really think you forgot about the time he confessed to being the one to leave his ramyeon dishes in the sink?

Jongho stared at the scene and laughed, but you quickly glared at him, "This isn't even my dorm, Jongho. Don't even start with me."

MOMENT TWO

"San, stop moving." You whined into his chest, "I can't, Wooyoung keeps kicking me in the butt." He whined back.

Hongjoong burst into the room, "What are you three still doing in bed? Get up! We have practice in twenty!"

Wooyoung sat up from behind San and threw a pillow at Hongjoong's head, "Hush!"

You reached behind San and pulled Wooyoung's ear, "Be nice! He's still your elder!"

Hongjoong laughed and walked up to you on the bed, "Thanks, but you gotta get up too." He kissed your cheek.

San whined, "Where's my kiss, Hongjoong?"

"You disgust me."

MOMENT THREE

Everyone laid on the dance practice room floor, breaths heaving out of all nine men's chests. You had rolled onto your stomach, your shirt riding up. Wooyoung giggled as he stood up, taking his plan in action, everyone but you stared at him in confusion.

He quickly runs over and plops onto your back, his witch-like cackle fills your ears, "Hi, Y/N!" He giggles.

You grunted and whined, "Youngie!"

San followed after, landing on top of Wooyoung, then Seonghwa, then Yunho, then everyone else followed. A dogpile of eight men were on you, everyone laughing as they crushed you.

"You guys are killing me!"

MOMENT FOUR

"Y/N, could you stand closer to Mingi?" The director shouted out.

Your eyebrow twitched in irritation, "Gladly, sir!" Anything to get away from Jongho poking your ass, you were tempted to hit him in the balls like San did to him before you guys performed once before.

Jongho was stifling his giggles, not wanting to mess up the MV shoot. When the director called for a break, you turned to face him, but he'd already ran off. Whatever, you'll just sneak into his room tonight and push him off his bed.

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yuyusuyu · 9 months

Text

bloody hell

synopsis. oh, if only, if only she hadn't crossed paths with him. then maybe, just maybe, all of this could've been avoided... except, it was bound to happen by fate. there was no escaping the fate that was given to you at birth.

pairing. ot8! vampire! ateez x fem! reader (not poly! everyone will have their own ending!)

warnings. blood, gore, violence, death, suggestive themes (no smut!), many tropes (e2l, f2l, strangers to lovers, etc), mentions of mental health (do NOT romanticize depression and anxiety among other stuff because that is SO weird!)

genres. suspense, romance, angst, slow burn

status. ON HOLD ! currently revamping the chapters after the prologue because i decided this isn't suspenseful enough and i am not doing this jewel of mine justice ! this should be back by february or mid january ^_^

start. 080423

end. ???

a/n. send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are appreciated! helps with not getting shadowbanned!

chapters.

act one: in which the pieces fall into place.

prologue. | profiles. | the legends. | 01. ??? | 02. ??? | 03. ??? | 04. ??? | 05. ??? | 06. ??? | 07. ??? | 08. ??? | 09. ??? | 10. ??? | 11. ??? | 12. ??? | 13. ??? | 14. ??? | 15. ??? | 16. ??? | 17. ??? | 18. ??? | 19. ???

act two. in which the pieces begin to move

to be uncovered...

BLOODY HELL | yuyusuyu 2023

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waywardsummoner46 · 2 months

Text

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ Sink Into the Darkness, My Light | One | ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──

"Join us, my Light."

Two centuries ago, the ruler of the Light disappeared, plunging the universe into chaos and disrupting the sacred, unspoken balance of the universe.

The eight rulers of the Darkness never stopped looking for her; their obsession never once waning since she vanished.

Recently, they've sensed something. Never around long enough to pinpoint but so euphoric that it sings within their veins. And since meeting you, well... slowly they begin to understand why.

"Sink into the darkness with us."

──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──

「✦」 PAIRING - yandere ot8!ateez x (?)reader

「✦」 GENRE - ancient gods!au, fantasy!au, magical powers!au

「✦」 WARNINGS - mind control, gaslighting, dom/sub, subspace (of a sort), temporary amnesia, manipulation, YANDERE AND DARK THEMES

「✦」 WORD COUNT - 4,343

「✦」 A/N - Long time no see, huh...

「✦」 TAGLIST - Let me know if you'd like to be added :)

──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──

• one • two • three •

──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──

“Oh, Ji-Ah! You really didn’t have to, you know.”

Holding your phone up to your ear, your eyes twinkled as they beheld the gifts your friend had gotten you.

“Of course I didn’t have to, but it’s your birthday and I… I wanted to.”

She quietened towards the end of her sentence, and your heart clenched at the sincerity of the gifts and her words.

“Ji-Ah…”

Whilst you were at work that day, she must’ve used her spare key to your apartment and placed all of these presents on your living room table. The book you had been raving over for the past few months was sitting in a brand new giant teddy bear’s lap, all decorated and styled with a bow. A now-opened card sat neatly to their side, a picture of you both from a few years ago on its cover and the sweetest message inside.

As much as you appreciated everything and made sure to verbalise that gratitude to her, you both knew that the book was what held your attention the most. You had spent literal months searching for it, ‘The Hidden War Within.’

When you’d first mentioned it to Ji-Ah, she’d laughed and asked if it was some sort of mindfulness, positive psychology type book. You’d dismissed her playfully, stating that she wasn’t necessarily incorrect but ignored the actual content of the book. ‘The Hidden War Within’ is a novel by a collection of authors over the course of centuries; it’s written from the first person perspective and tells the tale of a lady, every time, who aims to nurture the goodness in people and minimise the evil that could fester. The antagonist, a male whose origins vary, actively dismisses her aims, instead wishing to incite sin and discourse within the people of the land. The descriptions of the constant battle between the pure aims of the protagonist and the insidious intentions of the antagonist captivated you in an inexplicable way; the applications this has to the human race as a whole really piqued your interest.

Philosophical topics was something you dabbled in on occasion but the discussion between good and evil being a force out of the individual control of a person and, instead, determined by forces beyond comprehension did cause some discussion between you and Ji-Ah. Mainly, are people born evil or is it an environmental thing?

The fact that it had been written from numerous authors over the span of centuries was another aspect that only deepened your intrigue. How had authors, all from different parts of the globe and periods of time, collectively written something akin to a timeline of a novel? Realistically, the only thing the stories within the novel had in common was that they discussed the same topic in eerily similar detail just with different historical influences, but that only reinforced the entire philosophical debate of are people born evil.

Undeniably, ‘The Hidden War Within’ had wormed its way as a repetitive topic within your friendship and that enabled your obsession with the novel to grow until you were borderline desperate to possess it for yourself.

So, as you held it in your hands, tears of unfiltered happiness streamed down your face silently. “Thank-” “You are very, very welcome,” she cut you off. Then, there was a pause on her line. “To repay me, if you’re feeling oh-so indebted to me, you have to come out with us for a drink tonight.”

You knew that the tender moment wouldn’t last long, not with Ji-Ah’s aversion to lengthy emotional situations.

Still, you sighed.

“Ji-Ah, you know I don’t drink.” You’d had a few in the past, curious to try it out but it never became anything more than just that - a new experience. Alcohol was off-putting to you, it just never tickled your fancy and after seeing what it can lead to… well, fair to say you’d rather stay away from the stuff.

Ji-Ah, bless her, was very accommodating to this particularity of yours and always ensured that you were as comfortable as possible at any social event. Hence why her next words weren’t a surprise, “You don’t have to drink-drink, but I am going to have lots of drink-drinks… if that’s okay with you?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head lightly even though you knew she couldn’t see you. “I trust you, Ji-Ah. I know you’re responsible with it. It’s Jee-Won that I’m dreading, you know how she gets.”

Everyone knew how Jee-Won got after a few drinks, especially at a bar where there were plenty of young, ‘attractive’ men to scope out. Her fascination with picking out another guy at every social event was sad because she could quite easily find someone to truly love her and be loved by her. Alas, you might have to resign yourself to her drunken activities and pray that whoever she invited back to the table tonight would be decent and not equally as unhinged as she could be.

On the other end of the phone call, you could basically hear her thinking of how to convince you to go and as painful as it was to admit to yourself, her persistence was slowly grating at your resilience.

The teddy bear sitting on your living room table was practically begging you with its plastic, unseeing eyes. Ji-Ah had bought you all of those gifts and… it was only one night, wasn’t it? And it was your birthday? Surely, it couldn’t be that bad…

A heavy, resigned sigh escaped your lips and Ji-Ah practically squealed over the phone.

“See you at eight! You will not regret this, (Y/N).”

Somehow, you already did.

──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──

It was her fault really that you were in this situation, really. She couldn’t possibly have expected anything different, right?

Maybe she did, maybe she expected you to resist, to battle it off as much as you could but her optimism would be her downfall.

The urge was just too mighty, the temptation too unbearable to deny and you, too unfortunately stubborn for your own good.

Looking down at your tote bag, swimming with an array of different chocolates and a multitude of her favourite sweets, you grinned. She’d definitely kill you for buying these for her but words of thanks just weren’t satisfactory enough. Her gifts had quite literally made you cry; you needed to show her, rather than tell her, just how much you cherished her actions.

Deep down, you knew that she knew that. It was also just fun to see the outrage on her face when you presented her with chocolates or some flowers whenever she’d gone out of her way to spoil you.

Deep down, you also knew that she knew that you knew she secretly likes her efforts being appreciated so much and it always makes for a phenomenal movie night whenever you shower her with a myriad of sweet and sugary specials (not that she’d ever admit to that).

There was something missing from your horde of tradeable valuables and that was, in fact, a palette of different coloured flowers. With a subtle mischief to your stride, you made your way to your most trusted, dear florist ‘Life Rose On’.

The name never fails to make you chuckle.

On Jung-Hee owned the beautiful establishment and had been a friend of sorts since you moved to the area five years ago. When moving into your then-new apartment, you decided that the first step to making the space your own was to liven up each room with different colours and types of flowers.

Your idea worked like a charm and really helped to keep you motivated when unpacking. Jung-Hee very kindly took the time out of her day to help you hand select each individual flower (and entertained your ceaseless indecision); from that day, you always made sure to drop by whenever you were in town to say hello and to drop off some soju. The old lady was very open about her love for the stuff, even if you had no interest in it.

If it was for Jung-Hee, there’s not a lot you wouldn’t do. You loved the elderly lady like your own grandmother and would also lend a helping hand should she need it.

She was similar to you in the way that she always repaid you through gifts for your considerate actions - typically a free bouquet of your favourite flowers.

After a nice stroll through town, you reached the florist.

Unsurprisingly, the window display was stuffed to the brim with a myriad of floral beauties that looked like Mother Nature’s mosaic. Jung-Hee seriously knew how to capture an onlooker's attention and, judging from how many people you could see in the shop beyond the glazed window, she’d succeeded immensely.

You crossed the street, navigating the crowd of people on the pavements.

You got so caught up in the masses of people that you failed to notice the raised step at the entrance of ‘Life Rose On’ and, ultimately, began falling to your doom.

Letting out an embarrassing squeak of surprise, you braced yourself for the impact with the floor that… never came.

Peeling your eyes open in mild confusion, you barely suppressed your gasp of shock at the kind eyes of the stranger that had caught you. You both stayed in whatever position he’d caught you in - you were too out of it to process that properly - and took the opportunity to analyse each others’ face.

He had the warmest eyes you’d ever seen, a gorgeous galaxy of chocolatey velvet wrapped up in his irises. His lips, parted ever so slightly and downturned, were rosey red and were porcelain in their appearance, flawless and beautiful. Delicate waves of dark hair lined his forehead and it took all of your energy not to reach up and smooth a stray strand out.

It felt like hours had passed with you looking into his eyes and examining his face. You couldn’t get enough, there was something so captivating about him, something that made you want to know more-

Someone cleared their throat. Both you and the stranger were shocked out of your respective reveries and a light blush dusted your cheeks. The stranger seemed completely composed, in contrast. The person who’d cleared their throat was a customer trying to leave through the doorway but found it difficult with two humanoid obstacles in the way. You were happy to see that the lady wasn’t a regular, so she probably wouldn’t bump into her on another occasion.

Huffing at your distracted apology, the lady moved past you and the stranger and out of the florist. Now that you and the man were both standing by yourself and pointedly not tripping over some violent, unseen step, you struggled to maintain a neutral expression when you saw how tall he was compared to you.

He was easily six foot tall, and using the door as a substitute measuring tape you guessed that he might be slightly taller than that as well. You cursed yourself internally. Of all the people that had to see and catch you, why did it need to be this man?

“I am so sorry, are you alright?” You questioned with an apology written all over your face.

And, oh, if you thought his face was perfect, then his voice was enough to cause you to ascend. “I’m perfectly fine, are you alright?” how were you supposed to keep composed when his voice sounded like that.

Smiling self-deprecatingly, you responded, “I’m perfectly fine. Thank you for that.”

“Don’t worry about it.” And you didn’t, not really. Not when he assured you so confidently that there was absolutely nothing to trouble yourself with. “Tell me your name.”

Instinctually, you went to tell him but something held you back. Possibly the way he’d said it - a demand rather than a question. Possibly something else. Although, It struck you as odd that that was how he’d go about that topic but figuring it was largely irrelevant and most likely you were reading too much into things you gave him your name.

“(Y/N),” he repeated, your name sliding off his tongue so heavenly. “My, how interesting. I used to know someone with the same name.”

Your eyebrows raised in polite surprise. “Oh, really?”

He smiled down at you but there was a pinch of something unpleasant weaved into his expression, “Yes. A very compelling woman, was she.” His sudden emotion made you mildly uncomfortable, feeling as though you’d unintentionally uprooted some harsh forgotten memories.

Before you could say anything, though, the man bowed to you. “Lovely to make your acquaintance, (Y/N). My name is Yunho.”

Yunho.

You finally had a name to match his angelic face. It suited him perfectly.

Smiling, a genuine, light-hearted one this time, you mirrored his bow before you both straightened and simply stood there, on the doorway to the shop, and gazed at each other silently. There was something about this man that made you search his eyes, the very deepest, darkest parts of his pupils to find his soul. You didn’t know what it was, but something inside of you said that Yunho was very unique.

Very unique indeed.

──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──

Yunho and you had spoken for another twenty minutes before he’d had to leave.

The entire time, you were hanging off of his every word and couldn’t quite escape the magnetism of his irises. There was something so captivating with the way he spoke; the words he chose, the tone in which they were woven but also how calming his deep voice was. And, oh, his eyes.

You couldn’t stop thinking about them.

Glancing at your phone, the time read 13:26. That left you about six and a half hours before you had to be there, five hours before you had to get ready, four hours before you got some food and only two hours and a half before you went home.

Flowers were the last thing on your list, so once you’d picked out a personalised bouquet for Ji-Ah you’d be able to browse whatever other shops tickled your fancy and then go home, to get ready for your “night out”.

The more you thought about it, the more you regretted your decision to go. Realistically, you’d most likely have a phenomenal time if you allowed yourself to indulge in the experience. But sitting on your living room table was the one thing you’d wanted for months; it was finally in your grasp and you couldn’t even read it until tomorrow (because you weren’t stupid, you won’t be leaving the club until two in the morning).

Helplessly, you sighed. There was no way to escape your fate. It was inevitable. At least the flowers were pretty.

‘Life Rose On’ was, for lack of a better word, a labyrinth. The only reason you could get around as quick as you could was because you’d navigated its maze-like twists and turns for five years and, even then, when Jung-Hee decided that the shop was getting “too predictable”, she’d reorganise the entire shop so that any hope of save journey was futile. The woman loved to keep people on their toes, her distaste for monotony something you admired contrary to the perilous jungle that was her shop.

The shop was bigger than it appeared; the bleak outside of the shop didn’t do its magnificent interior any justice. As soon as you entered the florists, an archway made entirely of Japanese Wisteria, Mandevilla and Clematis enveloped you with their sweet smells. Each climbing plant twisting so delicately around the foundations of the archway and certain pieces dangling down in a still, flowery downfall; the occasional petal falling to the ground made walking into the shop feel like you were stepping into another realm with only nature’s best caressing you lightly on their way down to join those who fell before them.

After the winding walkway, there was the option to take a left or a right turn. Both laid out to be the start of a rainbow - the beginning of each row included dark red roses, amaryllis to name a few and continued down the line with plants including sunflowers, bluebells and lavender.

On Jung-Hee loved a spectacle. She was only just getting started.

The overall layout of the shop was circular. So, after making your choice of left or right, you would be brought to a turn that took you further towards the centre of the shop. Instead of beginning from red and going down the rainbow, Jung-Hee intricately places each and every flower on these stands to mirror the symbol of whatever season of the year it was. For example, for Valentine’s day, she had gathered the flowers and created a phenomenal display of plants made to look like a landscape of a couple sitting on a mountain, overlooking the horizon.

What made ‘Life Rose On’ so unique is that Jung-Hee’s life quite literally revolved around the shop and had dedicated her life to making the shop thrive. It was her family heirloom in a way. The building itself had been in her family for generations but she’s been the first to utilise it to its full potential and allow her family home to bloom to its fullest extent.

It was that same ideology that inspired her to make it a florist. Ever the poet, she said that every plant or flower sold was pollen and her customers were the bees, helplessly drawn to its beauty and coming to crave its offerings as sustenance.

“You will always be my favourite bee, my dear,” she always said.

“And you’ll always be my favourite flower,” you’d respond with an unrestrained smile on your face.

After the landscape aisles of the shop, you’d finally reach the centre where the cash register was. Dotted around it, however, were individual stands and displays of flowers that may not have been considered as suitable for the display chosen that month or were simply too big to be practical anywhere more confined.

And sitting at the cash register, looking effortlessly in her element would be Jung-Hee.

Except… she wasn’t there. A young man was sitting there instead, one you’d never heard of before, let alone seen. Jung-Hee had no children nor did she have any nephews of close relations to anyone of his description.

You hadn’t seen his face yet, having turned right after the archway you’d reached the centre from behind the cash register so his back was turned to serve the small line of customers there, but you found it slightly odd that Jung-Hee wasn’t at the register she seemed to be glued to six days a week (it used to be seven but you managed to convince her to take Sunday off to look after herself, rather than others for once).

Biting your lip slightly, you looked down at the collection of blue hyacinths and forget-me-nots you’d collected for Ji-Ah and contemplated coming back at a later date. There was nothing necessarily wrong with having a stranger in Jung-Hee’s place but you had brought along some small things you wanted to give her today and, evidently, you wouldn’t be able to do that. Ji-Ah would still have her flowers and chocolates and whatnot, but at a later date.

Thinking about it, it made more sense to kill two birds with one stone at a later date. You wouldn’t be able to give Ji-Ah the flowers until after they’d died anyway due to your schedules being unaligned after tonight and the florist you were looking for was nowhere to be seen.

Then again…

“Daisies would work wonderfully with those.”

You jolted and looked up to meet the eyes of one of the prettiest, most angelic people you’ve ever seen in your life. Internally, you were mildly shocked at how such a smooth, deep voice could match such an innocent face and yet, somehow the low baritone of his voice was as pleasurable to listen to as his eyes were to gaze into.

The irony of his rosy red lips wasn’t lost on you.

The man had a birthmark on his cheek, strands of parted black hair framed it like the most cherished picture. Because this man was a work of art, and he deserved to be framed for eternity.

Two men. Two heart-wrenchingly handsome men had crossed paths with you in less than twenty minutes. The first one you’d made a fool of yourself to. You’d be damned if you ruined this chance to redeem yourself, even if only to make yourself feel better,

Meeting his eyes, you took a subtle breath to steel your nerves. “Do you think so? I was debating between purple tulips or just buying them as they are, but I see where you’re coming from.”

Alright, a slight ramble perhaps but at least you didn’t stumble over your words (or your feet like with Yunho).

The way his eyes twinkled with sudden interest gave you a bit of confidence. “An interesting choice, but don’t you think the contrast of the daisy’s white petals against the darker purples and blues would only add to the beauty of them all?”

Contemplatively, you looked down at your hands and imagined the picture he’d painted in your hand. It did make sense, actually. As he said, the contrast between dark and light made a very balanced, very alluring image inside your head. “Ah, you know what? You’re right, that would look lovely.”

He leant back (you didn’t register when he’d closed a slight distance between you), and looked proud of himself. Dare you say it, the pleased expression he wore was adorable.

“I’m glad I could help. My name is Yeosang.”

Yeosang.

Just like when you learnt Yunho’s name, something felt so instinctively right about that. Not only did the name suit him perfectly but as though something thrumming underneath your skin calmed after learning his name.

“(Y/N), it’s nice to meet you. Thank you for your help, Yeosang-ssi,” you bow deeply so that he avoids seeing the blush dusted across your cheeks. You don’t know what it was, but there was something going on with you today. First Yunho, now Yeosang. Two complete strangers that had affected you more in two minutes than a lot of people had in two years.

“You’re very welcome, (Y/N).”

Yeosang helped you to find however many daisies you wanted (six) and walked you to the register, all while making small talk. It was only when you saw him stand behind the counter rather than in the queue did you make the connection between the mysterious new worker and this kind stranger.

Lips parting softly, you placed the flowers into his outstretched hand for him to place them into the bouquet wrapping. “How long have you worked here?”

His hands worked the ribbon around the patterned wrapping so expertly that you wondered how much practice he’d had at this. “I’ve been here for about two years this month.”

Two years? Impossible, you would’ve run into him at some point with how frequently you visit the shop. And even if by the very small chance that hadn’t occurred, Jung-Hee would’ve told you of such a development.

“How come Jung-Hee never mentioned you?”

At your question, his hands slowed momentarily but picked up from his slight hesitation as though nothing had happened. “You know Jung-Hee?”

“I’ve known her for nearly five years now. She’s always been wonderful company and an even better friend.”

He hummed thoughtfully, “I find it odd she never mentioned me, I must admit.” Finishing wrapping the flowers up, he made eye contact with you again and the sudden tenseness and mild hostility you found in them caught you off guard. “She and I have a very complicated relationship but one that I cherish, nonetheless.”

You waited for a few seconds for him to elaborate but once he remained silent for the same amount of time, it became clear he wasn’t going to answer further.

A part of you still wanted to know where Jung-Hee was today, and you were about to ask when he reached down to something on the shielded side of the counter, hidden from your view.

Bringing his hand up, you saw that he’d picked a singular purple rose. He twirled it in his hand for a bit, admiring its rare beauty, before making eye contact with you once again. Slowly, as though giving you the opportunity to step back should you wish, he raised the rose to your head and tucked it gently behind your ear.

His hand lingered by your cheek for a second longer than it should’ve, especially considering the short amount of time you’d known him… but, you’d be lying if you said that closeness, even the faintest amount of it, wasn’t the best thing you’d experienced in a long, long time.

Appearing reluctant, he pulled back. “Goodbye, (Y/N). I hope I’ll see you again soon.” His voice was a whisper but carried the weight of a winter wind.

You couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks. If the slight twitching of his lips was anything to go by, he was well aware of the effect he had on you.

You met his eyes, the look he was giving you so tender it made saying this goodbye almost unbearable. “Goodbye, Yeosang.”

After leaving the innermost circle of the shop, you felt like a weight was settling off of your lungs. You didn’t even recognise how difficult it had become to breathe there, nor had you recognize how unexplainably painful it was to depart from Yeosang only after knowing him for fifteen minutes.

A rush of something euphoric had spread through you after he’d given you the flower, and coupled with the barest touch to your cheek your emotions had been sent tumbling. You stepped out of the shop and, for the first time in a long time, felt like there was something more to your life again. As though you’d found your purpose.

Oh, how little you knew.

──•~❉ ᯽ ❉~•──

#ateez x reader #ot8 x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #park seonghwa x reader #jeong yunho x reader #kang yeosang x reader #choi san x reader #song mingi x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #choi jongho x reader #yandere ateez #yandere ateez x reader #dark ateez

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sannieluvrr · 2 months

Text

y/n decided she needed change. after going through therapy and growing personally, she was ready to try living away from home again. only this time she is now stuck living next to eight rowdy guys and even more shocking was that she knew one of them.

ot8! ateez x (fem) reader

warnings: this story will have eventual smut! minors DO NOT interract! there will be talk of anxiety and recovery. read chapter warnings. i also will try to not use any of their experiences as i do not know what they went through.

written by: lulu aka sannieluvvr

words: ??

divider: @cafekitsune

ateez reaction - meeting you

ch.1 | ch.2 | ch.3 | ch.4 | ch.5 | ch.6 | ch.7 | ch.8 | ch.9 | ch.10 |

#lulu:writes #lulu: eternal sunshine #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez fluff

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cybrsan · 6 days

Text

Vignette: Duty — P.SH, K.HJ

STORY SUMMARY: For as long as he can remember, Seonghwa has dedicated himself to a single goal: making his father proud. To do so, he needs to win the Nightingale commendation, become the best of the best. But when he falls a step behind Hongjoong, he has to reconsider what it is he truly wants.

PAIRING: N/A, Seonghwa POV ft. Hongjoong (Future OT8 x Reader in main fic)

RATING/GENRE: PG-13 ; dystopian AU, steampunk AU

WORD COUNT: 11.1k

WARNINGS: Alcohol use (in a very unhealthy sort of way), self-deprecating thoughts and behavior, blood/injury, violence, strained father-son relationship, minor character death

A/N: This is the first out of six prologue stories that will be posted prior to the release of mine and Orion's main fic, Through The Darkness. Stay tuned for more <3

LINKS: ATEEZ Masterlist. Cross-posted on AO3. Story masterlist and glossary will be added once posted.

BANNER CREDIT: @kwanisms

General Elowen Nightingale makes for an imposing figure, dressed head to toe in military regalia. Her uniform is a stark white, not a crease to be seen, and decorated with numerous patches and medals that are a testament to her years of service and hundreds of battles won. Her honey-colored hair, streaked with silver, is pulled back into a perfect bun, and her piercing, grey eyes burn with an intensity that can make even the most hardened soldiers avert their gaze.

As she scrutinizes the crowd of cadets from behind her podium, Seonghwa finds himself having to make a conscious effort to maintain his position and not falter. His fingers itch to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles of his own—far less decorated—uniform, his heart pounding in his chest. He has been in the Vanguard Program for a few years now and has known her since he was a child, but he’s still not used to being in her presence.

Hongjoong snickers from his place beside him, whispering, “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Shut up,” Seonghwa hisses through gritted teeth, keeping his eyes trained forward. “The last thing I need is to get in trouble for talking out of turn.”

“You have no reason to be nervous, Hwa, seriously. You’re one of the best in the class.”

“Says the General’s favorite.”

“Well, yes.” Seonghwa doesn’t have to look at Hongjoong to know there’s a smug grin on his face. “But that doesn’t make what I just said any less true. You have as good a chance as any to get the Nightingale Commendation.”

The Nightingale Commendation is a tradition of 30 years standing, named after the General’s family who established the program. It is the highest honor that can be bestowed upon a young, eager cadet, marking them as the one to watch (or the one to beat, in the eyes of their peers). It’s a ticket to swift promotions and the most coveted assignments. Naturally, everyone wants it.

Seonghwa can hardly even imagine being considered for such an award. He wants it, of course he does; after all, his name means “to be a star,” so being the rising star of the Vanguard Program would suit him. Or so his father says. But the idea of actually standing at the general’s side, his first medal pinned to his jacket… it’s almost too overwhelming to bear.

Though he won’t openly admit it due to the risk of relentless teasing, Seonghwa does feel put at ease by Hongjoong’s words. He glances toward him, momentarily forgetting the fear of being reprimanded. Hongjoong’s gaze is still cast forward, though he seems completely unfazed by the general or her commanding presence. He’s always been confident in a way that Seonghwa envies.

Suddenly turning his head, Hongjoong’s eyes meet his. In the harsh light of the auditorium, they seem a shade or two lighter than their usual brown. He smiles, though it isn’t the teasing grin Seonghwa was expecting. Instead, it’s soft, reassuring.

“Let’s promise each other that no matter who wins, we’ll celebrate together. Deal?”

Heat rushes to Seonghwa’s face against his better judgment. He’s so used to their competitive banter that this show of such genuine camaraderie has taken him aback. Still, he agrees without hesitation. “Deal.”

With that, the knot of anxiety in his chest unravels near completely. Having someone else be so confident in his abilities, someone who is so outstanding in their own right, is deeply comforting. Before either of them can say more, General Nightingale’s voice booms over the speakers.

“Attention!” she demands, and Seonghwa would swear she’s looking directly at him. “The time has come to announce this year’s recipient of the Nightingale Commendation. As you all know, this award is not given lightly. The cadet who is bestowed the honor will have earned it through their hard work, unwavering courage, and dedication to the cause.”

Sweat prickles at Seonghwa’s temple, a lone drop dripping down the side of his face and disappearing underneath the neckline of his shirt. This is it.

“Over the past few years, I have seen growth in all 46 of you; the Vanguard class of 1018 has been one of the most promising in our history. And while many of you have exhibited extraordinary promise, there is one cadet who has consistently exceeded all expectations.”

She pauses for a long moment, her eyes sweeping over the crowd. It’s as if she wants to savor the anticipation and make everyone squirm for as long as she can. Seonghwa can feel his heartbeat picking up again, and he even sees Hongjoong begin to fidget out of the corner of his eye.

Her gaze lands on Seonghwa and, for just a moment, he lets himself believe. But she passes over him without hesitation and immediately, he knows. He closes his eyes and prepares himself for what she is about to say.

“Congratulations, Cadet Kim Hongjoong. Please come up to the stage and accept your award.”

Seonghwa’s eyes remain closed as applause erupts around him. Deep down, he’d always known this moment would come, always known it would be Hongjoong and not him. But disappointment is not an easy pill to swallow.

“Seonghwa?”

Hongjoong whispers his name, and Seonghwa comes back to reality, opening his eyes to meet his expectant gaze.

“Congrats, Joong.” And he means it. He can get over his own disappointment in order to celebrate his friend.

He brings his hands together, mustering up a smile as he watches Hongjoong take the stage. General Nightingale hands Hongjoong the framed commendation before shaking his hand firmly. She then pins the matching medal onto his lapel—his first medal—and allows the crowd to cheer for a few moments longer.

“Cadet Kim,” she begins. “You have demonstrated exceptional skills throughout your time in the program. You are an example to all cadets of what an elite member of the Vanguard should be. I am confident you will uphold the Nightingale tradition of excellence in service.”

Hongjoong’s face, lit up with pride, is something Seonghwa will fondly remember for a long time.

“You’re welcome to give a speech,” General Nightingale says, stepping back as she gestures to the podium.

“I want to share this honor with all of you.” Hongjoong’s voice is strong and unwavering as he addresses the entire class. “We are all the future of the Sector. We are in this together and I am honored to fight at your side.”

He pauses for a moment, his gaze landing on Seonghwa once again. “There’s someone in particular I want to acknowledge.”

The auditorium falls silent as everyone follows his line of sight. Seonghwa feels himself flush with embarrassment, but he can’t bring himself to look away.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says, his voice much softer now, as if he were speaking only to him. “You have been both my fiercest rival and my closest friend. Always there to push me beyond what I thought was possible, or to pick me up when I fall. This award,” he holds the commendation up in the air for emphasis, “Would not have been achievable without you. Thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. Seonghwa feels like he might pass out from all the blood rushing to his head.

“And if you or anyone else brings up the fact I got so emotional, I’ll take you to the mat.”

Just like that, the tension is broken. Laughter and cheers erupt as the crowd surges to life. The noise is enough to break Seonghwa from the trance Hongjoong’s words had him under and he can’t help but laugh as well.

Hongjoong takes a final bow and steps down from the stage, receiving some congratulatory pats on the back as he walks back down the aisle. Seonghwa notices the general watching Hongjoong closely, her gaze alight with something he can’t quite decipher. A mixture of approval and curiosity, perhaps? Yet he barely has time to question it before Hongjoong reaches him and claps him on the shoulder.

“Bet you weren’t expecting that, huh?” he says, his grin widening as he scans Seonghwa’s flustered expression.

“Expecting what?” Seonghwa’s proud he doesn’t stutter. “That you have a sentimental side or that you would actually admit it in public?”

Hongjoong chuckles. “Hey, you’re the one that complains I don’t give you enough affection.”

“Still, I never would have dreamed of you publicly declaring your love for me,” Seonghwa teases. This banter is good—it’s what he’s used to. His heart finally settles in his chest.

Hongjoong rolls his eyes, the act belied by the softness that lingers in his expression. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“I’ll try not to.” Taking a deep breath, Seonghwa allows some of his sincerity to shine through. “All jokes aside… Thank you, Joong. Your words really do mean a lot. And I hope you know that they’re returned tenfold.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Before either of them can say more, General Nightingale reclaims her place at the podium. “Cadets,” she begins, her voice cutting through the clamor of the crowd. The room quiets almost instantly, and everyone returns their gaze to her. “As you all know, this ceremony isn’t just about the Nightingale Commendation. It’s about all of you and how much you have achieved over these past few years. Some of you will move on to other assignments, and some will have to report for further training, but all of you are part of what makes our Sector so great.

Hongjoong, of course, will become a member of the Vanguard Elite squad. Like all the past commendation recipients, he will be awarded Flight status, which gives him access to the most advanced machinery, classified assignments, and even travel outside of the Sector. Considering his outstanding performance throughout his time here, there is no doubt that he'll excel in his duties."

There is a momentary pause as she locks eyes with Hongjoong, and a curt nod of approval is exchanged before she turns back to the crowd.

“Alongside him, the top 5% of the class will also become part of the elite squad. We have evaluated the performance of these three cadets on various fronts: combat skills, strategic planning, adaptability, teamwork, and overall growth. The names I am about to announce are the individuals who have consistently excelled across these parameters. When I call your name, please join me on stage.”

If Seonghwa had thought the auditorium was silent before, it was nothing compared to the hush that fell over the room now. For a moment, he wonders if it’s possible Hongjoong might be able to hear his heart beating from his spot at his side. The general calls the first name. Not him. Second name. Also not him.

Then, finally, “Cadet Park Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa’s knees almost give out from underneath him. He wasn’t expecting this. He had been so focused on receiving the Nightingale commendation that he failed to consider the possibility of being in the top 5%—of still being part of the Vanguard’s most sought-after squad. In his shock, his gaze instinctively drifts to Hongjoong, who smiles and mouths, “I told you so.”

Walking on autopilot, he joins his new squad mates on stage. Surely, this must be enough to please his father. He may not be the best, but he is still among the elite; that has to count for something. Turning to General Nightingale, he bows slightly before shaking her hand.

“Congratulations, Cadet Park.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“I present to you,” her voice rings powerfully through the auditorium once again, “the top 5% of the class, our Vanguard Elites!”

The rest of the class cheers and stomps their feet, the stage shaking from the force of it all.

“Moving forward, the remaining cadets will be assigned based on their individual strengths and overall rankings.”

She begins listing the remaining names, but Seonghwa is too lost in thought to hear them. He's on stage, a member of the Vanguard Elites, standing shoulder to shoulder with some of the academy's most talented cadets. He might still be a step behind Hongjoong, but surely that doesn’t matter. They’re still a part of the same squad, the same team.

“Our ceremony has come to an end. Congratulations to each and every graduate; you have all worked hard and should be proud of your achievements. To those who did not graduate—this should serve as motivation for you to work even harder in the future. Is that clear?” The crowd responds with a short cheer of understanding. “As always, we commit our hearts, bodies, and minds to service—”

“For the glory of the Sector!” The entire class finishes the alma mater in unison.

Seonghwa is flush with pride, standing straighter and more confidently than he ever has. This is it. This is what he has been working for. As the crowd erupts into a final round of applause, he takes in the sight before him: the sea of uniforms, the smiling faces, people hugging and congratulating one another. Everyone disperses, wandering off in different directions, presumably to go celebrate.

But Seonghwa only has eyes for one person.

Hongjoong approaches him, still beaming, and salutes him. “I’m excited to work with you, soldier.”

Seonghwa returns the salute. “You’re not sick of me yet?”

“Well…” Hongjoong draws out the word, letting it linger in the air for a moment before laughing. “No, not yet. We’ll see if that changes, though.”

Seonghwa wraps his arm around Hongjoong’s shoulder, pulling the shorter man firmly against his side as they continue to walk. “Oh, shut up. You confessed your love to me, remember?”

Hongjoong curls his lip. “Keep bringing that up, I dare you.”

“Cadet Kim.”

Seonghwa almost jumps out of his skin when the general speaks up from behind them. Hongjoong flinches slightly as well but has a much smoother recovery; Seonghwa never would have even noticed if he didn’t have his arm around him.

Hongjoong separates from Seonghwa and turns around, standing at attention. “Yes, General?”

“At ease. I need you to come with me to my office. There’s much we need to discuss concerning the commendation and the benefits you have been awarded.”

“Oh,” a glimmer of surprise crosses his face. “Of course. Hwa, I’ll see you later, okay?”

Seonghwa just nods, watching as the two walk away. A pit settles in his stomach but he tries to ignore it. He decides to head back to their shared quarters on his own, his footsteps bouncing off of the polished stone floor. He begins the careful ritual of removing his dress uniform, his hands shaking slightly as he undoes each button, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

While shrugging into a more comfortable shirt, Seonghwa glances at his nightstand and is surprised to find his aurvox lit, indicating he has a message waiting for him. He presses play and instantly tenses as his father’s voice comes over the speakers.

“Seonghwa. I watched the ceremony. Call me immediately.”

A wave of apprehension rolls down Seonghwa’s spine. In the message, his father’s voice sounds stern, almost frigid. It’s the voice he always uses when he is about to scold him, but surely that can’t be right. He got on stage and his abilities were acknowledged by General Nightingale herself. He made it into the Vanguard Elites. It’s not the commendation, but it’s still something.

He takes a deep breath, willing his hands to stop shaking as he returns the call. The aurvox rings once, twice, before his father answers.

“Seonghwa.”

“Father. I—”

“You didn’t win the Nightingale commendation.”

Seonghwa’s shoulders fall. Any excitement he may have been feeling, any pride, is instantly extinguished by those six words. “No. I didn’t.”

“You need to try harder. Your win this year was supposed to make up for your brother losing the commendation to that rusted piece of scrap from the Outer Sector.”

“I know. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Don’t be sorry—be better.” Seonghwa isn’t even given the time to respond as his father continues, “We are going to host a celebratory dinner for Hongjoong. His mother will be there so I expect you to be on your best behavior. After all, if you can’t beat him, at least make sure to use him. He might be able to aid you in the future, and Sunhee has plenty of connections.”

Seonghwa knows his father wants him to agree, but he can’t bring himself to say those words out loud. Use Hongjoong? He’s his friend. He won’t do it. He can’t.

“Seonghwa?” His father’s voice sharpens and Seonghwa flinches despite being nowhere in his vicinity.

“Yes, sir. Of course.” His words sound strained, but his father doesn’t seem to notice.

“Good. I will see you tonight. Dress well.”

His father hangs up without even saying goodbye, signaling that the conversation is over. Seonghwa places his aurvox back on his nightstand and immediately flops face down on his bed, groaning into one of his pillows.

He can hear the distant sounds of the other cadets, their conversations and laughter drifting in through the thin walls of his room. But they seem a world away to him now. He wonders if he's supposed to be feeling elated, liberated from the years of hard work and all-nighters that led to this moment. Instead, he feels numb.

He’s not sure how much time passes before the door swings open and Hongjoong walks in, a grin on his face. “Hwa! Both the general and I got the invite to your father’s dinner party tonight. You won’t believe what she told me—” He stops short when he notices Seonghwa’s current state. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Just tired. How was your meeting?” Seonghwa manages to muster up a weak smile, hoping it’s convincing enough. By the look on Hongjoong’s face, it’s not, but he doesn’t press for more information.

“It was good,” Hongjoong answers after a moment, his smile slowly returning as he begins to fill Seonghwa in on the meeting. He babbles on and on about all the different benefits he will be able to take advantage of, unaware of the bitter taste filling Seonghwa’s mouth.

Seonghwa listens, nodding at the right moments, but he finds it hard to fully focus. He should be focused on his friend, celebrating with him. Instead, all he can think of are his father’s words. “Use him.”

“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong’s voice breaks through Seonghwa’s daze. “What’s going on?”

Seonghwa’s gaze snaps back to him, seeing the concern written all over his face. He attempts a smile again but it feels more like a grimace. “I’m okay, really. Just… there’s a lot on my mind.”

Hongjoong moves closer, shrugging off his overcoat and draping it over a desk chair before taking a seat next to Seonghwa on the bed. Their knees brush and Seonghwa jolts, pulling his leg away slowly enough for it not to be noticeable. As much as he wants the comfort he knows Hongjoong can provide, he can’t allow himself to indulge. Not now.

“You know you can talk to me about anything,” Hongjoong says, voice gentle. “Yeah, we compete, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be there for each other. We’re in this together.”

“I know, Joong,” Seonghwa replies, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s complicated, that’s all.”

Hongjoong stays quiet for a moment as if searching for the right words to say. “My mom always used to say that sometimes it’s the most complicated things that help us grow. They force us to confront parts of ourselves we aren’t comfortable with.”

Seonghwa feels a lump forming in his throat, his eyes shining with unshed tears. How can he explain that the uncomfortable thing he’s confronting is not a singular part of himself, but who he is at his core? That it takes into question his very values of duty, family, and loyalty? He can’t.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he murmurs, wiping at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. Then, getting up, he heads over to the wardrobe in the corner of their room, pulling a bottle of some top shelf liquor out from behind a loose panel. They aren’t usually allowed to keep alcohol on site, but that hasn’t stopped most cadets. “How about a drink? We should celebrate.”

Uncorking the bottle, he pours two generous servings into crystal glasses and offers one to Hongjoong. Hongjoong hesitates, his gaze switching from the glass to Seonghwa and back again, but then he reaches out and takes the drink.

“To us?” Hongjoong raises his glass.

“To us,” Seonghwa echoes. He downs his drink in one go, the burn of it helping distract from his thoughts. The alcohol slides down easily, too easily, and he pours himself another glass.

“Careful,” Hongjoong warns. “Don’t forget we have that dinner later.”

“I remember,” he retorts, a little sharper than he meant to. It was only for a split second, his tone barely changed, but it’s enough for Hongjoong to pick up on it. He picks up on everything. Hurt flashes across his features and Seonghwa immediately backtracks, adding, “Maybe I just need a little liquid courage.”

“Liquid courage, huh?” Hongjoong sighs before downing his glass as well. “Just don’t get too drunk or you’ll leave me to face your father all alone.”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

The opulence of the dinner party is overwhelming. Seonghwa expected it, of course, but still. Instead of being held in the Nexus Chambers like most work-related events, his father decided to host it in their manor which has been adorned with gold and crystal as far as the eye can see. Velvet chairs and couches have been set up to form intimate conversation circles while the occasional serving automaton weaves its way through guests to offer champagne and hors d’oeuvres. There’s even an auto-orchestra in the grand hall despite Seonghwa’s continuous complaints that their music is nothing compared to that of the street performers he heard during his mandatory field trip to the Outer Sector a few years ago.

He finds himself following from a distance as his father leads Hongjoong around the room, introducing him as the newest addition in the running for the title of the Symposium’s best and brightest. Everything he says is perfectly polished, enough to praise Hongjoong while simultaneously reminding everyone of his own affluence. Seonghwa can see Hongjoong’s discomfort, the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, the polite, robotic nodding as he is passed from conversation to conversation. As a friend, he should intervene. As a jealous son, however…

He refills his glass.

At one point, Hongjoong walks over to him, a drink in each hand. He seems to hesitate for a moment before extending one to Seonghwa. “I just bumped into Wooyoung and his friend, Yeosang," he says, his mouth quirking up at the corners.

"You did?"

"They were with some new girl Woo has taken under his wing. I didn't catch her name, but apparently, she's the sister of the new Watch Master."

"Oh, them," Seonghwa sighs. "Watch Master Luxe, right? My dad won't stop berating my brother because of that whole situation."

Hongjoong takes a sip of his drink before answering. "Yeah, I know he still hasn't gotten over Junghwa losing the commendation to him."

"Let's not talk about it. But is that what you have in store? Watch Master Kim?"

"Shut up, Park."

That’s the only time Seonghwa gets to talk to Hongjoong before his father comes back into the picture, whisking him away. After that, Seonghwa’s descent into total, blackout levels of intoxication is swift, the drinking he did earlier in the night definitely not helping. His mind is fuzzy around the edges, making it hard to process what he’s doing or saying. He becomes a blur of motion, stumbling from one group of attendees to another, slurring his words and laughing at jokes that aren’t even funny.

The dinner bell rings and with unsteady legs, Seonghwa makes his way into the dining room. The table is long enough to fit 50 people on each side and is covered with more food than anybody could possibly eat. Guests begin to settle into their seats and he goes to join them, only to find that Hongjoong has taken his usual spot to the right of his father.

For a moment, Seonghwa stands frozen, the room spinning around him. That spot is typically the seat of honor, the seat reserved for whomever the patriarch of the family deems most worthy. First it belonged to his brother, and then it belonged to him. Now, it seems, it belongs to Hongjoong.

“Oh, Hwa,” Hongjoong begins to stand, sensing his distress. “Is this your seat? I’m sorry, Speaker Park said—”

“Hongjoong, please, I told you to call me Soohyuk,” Seonghwa’s father interrupts. “And you’re the guest of honor tonight, so you should sit at my right hand next to General Nightingale. Seonghwa can sit next to his older brother at my left. That’s alright with you, isn’t it Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa’s vision blurs momentarily as heat floods to his face. He tries to form words, but can’t seem to make a sound. It is as if his breath is trapped in his throat. The longer the silence stretches on, the harsher his father’s glare becomes.

“Seonghwa,” he repeats. It isn’t a request—it’s a command.

“Of course,” Seonghwa finally manages. “It’s fine.”

He slumps into the seat next to Junghwa, who claps him on the shoulder and whispers, “Guess neither of us are the favorite son anymore, huh?”

“Not funny, hyung.”

Junghwa scoffs, letting his hand fall back to his side. “I’m not trying to be funny. This is what happens—displease father enough times and you are easily replaced. Get used to it. I have.”

Seonghwa doesn’t reply, instead reaching for the glass of wine that is being served with dinner. His hand shakes a little as he does so, enough for his brother to notice. Junghwa raises an eyebrow at him but mercifully stays silent.

After piling some food onto his plate, Seonghwa can do little more than pick at it, the appeal completely lost on him. His tongue feels numb in his mouth and all he can taste is the bitterness of the wine. He watches his father converse excitedly with Hongjoong, his eyes shining in a way they never do when looking at him.

“Seonghwa, how have you been, dear?”

Seonghwa startles, so lost in his own thoughts that he almost forgot he would be expected to entertain guests. He looks up to see Hongjoong’s mother, Speaker Kim Sunhee, smiling at him from across the table. Even if the dinner wasn’t being held in honor of her son, she is still apart of the same council as his father and would have been in attendance anyway, yet he failed to consider she might try to engage him in conversation. She’s a pleasant woman, and at any other time, he would have been happy to talk to her, but tonight, he can barely hold himself together.

“I… I’ve been well, thank you.” He hopes he isn’t slurring his words too much. “And you, Speaker Kim?”

“Well, I’m thrilled! After all, my son has received such a prestigious award—I couldn’t be more proud.”

Seonghwa nods, plastering a polite smile on his face. “I’m sure you are. No one deserves it more than him.”

“Thank you for saying that. You’re very kind.” Her voice is soft with the kind of appreciation only a mother can have. Seonghwa can’t help but feel a twinge of envy; would his own mother have been as proud? “But I have to say, you’re a big reason my son is where he is today. You’ve been such a good friend to him, Seonghwa. He speaks very highly of you.”

The praise sneaks past his defenses, warming him from the inside out. For what may be the first time that night, he smiles genuinely. “I’m really happy to hear that. Hongjoong… he means a lot to me.”

His gaze involuntarily drifts to where Hongjoong is seated, his attention still occupied by Soohyuk. The light casts a warm glow on his profile, softening his features. For a moment, Seonghwa is captivated by the sight before the weight of his father’s order pulls him back to reality, and the guilt returns in full force.

“I can tell,” Sunhee says.

Before he can reply, his father stands, tapping his fork on his glass. “Everyone, can I have your attention please?” Once he’s sure that all eyes are on him, he continues, “As you all know, we are here tonight to celebrate the recipient of the Nightingale Commendation, Kim Hongjoong. I decided to host as he is a cherished friend of my son, Seonghwa.”

His father makes eye contact with him and smiles—that sick, twisted, vindictive smile. Seonghwa’s stomach sinks with dread.

“Before we continue, I feel it is only appropriate that he make a toast to celebrate his future squad mate’s accomplishment.”

The room falls silent, the air heavy with expectation. Seonghwa should have expected this, why didn’t he expect this?

“No pressure,” Junghwa says, a twisted sense of amusement in his voice.

Seonghwa glares at him before rising to his feet, swaying in place. He steels himself by gripping the edge of the table. His heart is pounding in his ears, his skin prickles with sweat, and the room seems to be closing in around him. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady both his hands and his voice as he raises his near-empty glass.

“To Hongjoong,” he begins. “To a friendship… a friendship that has meant so much to us both. And to… to a future that…”

His voice trails off, his words failing him. How is he supposed to toast to a friend he might betray, to a future that is so uncertain? He can’t, he can’t do this. His fingers tighten around the stem of his glass and suddenly, it cracks, shards digging into his hand.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong gasps, shooting up from his seat. It almost seems as if he’s about to rush to his side, but Soohyuk stops him in his tracks. Hongjoong’s eyes narrow, but he obeys.

“Stay where you are, Hongjoong. Everyone, please excuse my son’s poor manners; it appears he has had too much to drink.” His father addresses the crowd rather than him. “Seonghwa, apologize and then go get yourself tended to.”

Seonghwa swallows hard, the taste of bile stinging the back of his throat. He barely notices the blood dripping down his fingers, staining the tablecloth red and pooling around shards of glass.

“I… I’m… I’m sorry,” he stutters. “I’m so very sorry.”

He bows his head before quickly turning and bolting out of the room, his vision blurring with tears. He barely makes it to the grand staircase before tripping over his own feet. His knees hit the ground with an audible thud, and he grabs the banister to keep from going down completely. He’s too far gone, too drunk and too devastated to get back up. His grip slackens and he lets himself slide down onto the bottom step, ignoring the bloody handprint he leaves behind.

Nausea roils his stomach, and that, combined with the hot tears streaming down his face, makes him want to retch. He places his head between his knees and takes some deep breaths. He vaguely registers that he should be worried about keeping up appearances in case a guest walks by, but it’s hard to give a damn about that when he feels like his world has turned upside down.

An automaton servant walks over and comes to a stop in front of him. Its glowing, mechanical eyes don’t show a hint of concern, but it wordlessly offers him a clean, white cloth. With shaking hands, Seonghwa takes it and wraps it around the wound. The fabric quickly darkens with his blood, but it staunches the flow enough for him to gather his composure.

He drags himself upright, leaning heavily against the banister. He hauls himself up the staircase, one agonizing step at a time. He isn’t particularly fond of the idea of staying in his childhood room, but going back to base and having to face Hongjoong might be even worse.

He stumbles into his room, the door creaking as it opens. Seonghwa sobers a bit as he’s hit with a wave of nostalgia, the unchanged interior reminding him of his youth from before he was a soldier. Moonlight peers in through the window, bathing his old desk in a soft, silver light. It reminds him of quieter, simpler times, hours spent studying in his room, playing with building blocks and paper dolls.

He takes a seat in his desk chair, and his eyes drift to the portrait of his mother hung above the fireplace. He barely remembers her face outside of what it looks like in the painting; she smiles down at him with a warmth he can no longer feel. Sighing, he takes a first aid kit out of one of the drawers and begins the familiar routine of treating his wound, years of muscle memory kicking in. He peels away the blood-soaked cloth, grimacing at the sight of the jagged shards of glass still embedded in his flesh. Gritting his teeth, he starts to extract each piece, ignoring the stinging pain that shoots up his entire arm. He sterilizes the wound with a stinging splash of alcohol and then hastily wraps it with a clean bandage.

Once he finishes, Seonghwa collapses onto his bed, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. He doesn’t know how much time passes before he is brought back from the edge of sleep by a gentle knock on his door.

“Go away,” he croaks, his voice barely audible as he speaks into his bedsheets.

The knock sounds again, more insistent this time. Seonghwa immediately tenses. Is it his father, coming to berate him further?

“Seonghwa,” a voice murmurs from the other side, the timbre so soft, so hesitant. It isn’t his father—it’s Hongjoong. A rush of anxiety and embarrassment shoots through Seonghwa at the thought of facing him, so he buries his face in his pillow and pretends he doesn’t hear.

The knocking persists until it becomes too much of a nuisance to ignore. “I’m trying to sleep, Joong.”

There’s a pause before Hongjoong responds. “I know. I just wanted to check on you. Can you open the door?”

“No. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

The knocking stops and, for a moment, Seonghwa thinks that Hongjoong really walked away. But then he begins to speak again.

“Okay. We don’t have to talk. But listen to me, alright? What happened tonight… I’m not upset, and I don’t blame you. What your father did to you, putting you on the spot like that, it wasn’t right. Especially with you being as drunk as you were. I…” His voice hitches and Seonghwa can almost hear the cogs turning in his head as he struggles with what he wants to say. “I should have stopped you from drinking that much. I knew something was bothering you, but I didn’t press you on it. That’s on me. Just know that I’m here for you. Whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Seonghwa bites his lower lip to keep his cries from becoming audible; Hongjoong is kind, too kind, and he doesn’t deserve that kindness. Not now.

A moment of agonizing silence passes before Hongjoong says, “I’ll just leave you to rest then. Goodnight, Hwa. I… goodnight.”

Months pass with Seonghwa avoiding Hongjoong whenever he has the opportunity. Between spending most nights sleeping at home instead of their shared room and investing himself in his new duties, It’s surprisingly easy. Even though they’re part of the same squad, Hongjoong is always on elite missions, carrying out confidential orders, or out to dinner with other high-ranking officials. Rarely do they go out on missions together, and when they do, there’s little time for personal talk as General Nightingale usually accompanies them.

It’s not that Seonghwa doesn’t want to make things better with Hongjoong—he does, truly. But every time he thinks about facing him, about bringing up that night, his stomach lurches with fear. He’s not ready to confront the guilt that still gnaws at him endlessly, not ready to face the gentleness he knows he will find in Hongjoong’s eyes.

It doesn’t help that his father, after inevitably finding out about their falling out, has been pressuring him every chance he gets to fix things. Not out of love or care, but because of the prestige Hongjoong now holds as a commendation winner and the connections he and his family have. If they do become close again, Seonghwa worries that, through him, Hongjoong will just become a pawn.

It’s a cold, winter evening when Seonghwa accidentally bumps into Hongjoong outside their quarters. He had just stopped in for a moment to grab a heavier coat, not expecting anyone to be there. Hongjoong is dressed from head to toe in his winter event uniform, the same striking red and black as usual but with synthetic fur lining the collar. He looks like one of the princes from the old-world storybooks Seonghwa’s nanny would secretly read to him when he was little.

“Hwa,” Hongjoong says, surprise evident in his voice.

“I was just leaving,” Seonghwa mutters, trying to move past him, but Hongjoong blocks his way.

“Please, don’t. We need to talk.”

Seonghwa worries his bottom lip, trapped between the desire to flee and the knowledge that Hongjoong is right and a conversation is long overdue; he’s been running for far too long. “Okay,” he agrees. “You’re right.”

Hongjoong walks into the room and Seonghwa follows. The space feels oddly unfamiliar to him now, even though it’s the place where they used to share countless meals and stay up late into the night talking. They sit down on their respective beds, the distance between them feeling far larger than it actually is.

“Hongjoong—”

“Seonghwa—”

They start to speak at the same time and immediately stop, cutting themselves off with awkward laughter. The tension eases, but only slightly. Hongjoong gestures for Seonghwa to begin first.

“I… I’ve been avoiding you,” he admits, his gaze fixed pointedly on the floor. “And I know that’s not fair. Especially not after the mess I caused at your celebration dinner. I—”

“Hwa, wait. You don’t have to apologize for what happened at the dinner. You were obviously hurting, and you needed someone. I should have been that someone for you. I’m sorry.” Seonghwa opens his mouth to speak but Hongjoong continues, “Wait. While I will apologize for that, and I don’t blame you for what happened that night, I am upset that you have been avoiding me. In fact, I’m livid. Since when do we not talk about our problems? I thought we were closer than this.”

The silence stretches on as Seonghwa struggles to form a reply. “You’re right,” he finally admits, his voice barely more than a whisper. “We… we are closer than this. I’ve just been so… God, I’ve missed you, Joong. I’m so sorry. For all of it.”

Hongjoong’s stern expression softens at that. “I’ve missed you too. More than I can say. Do you know how many nights I stayed out late, expecting to come home to one of your homemade dinners? Or to you nagging me about working myself too hard, or not cleaning up my side of the room? I didn’t realize how much I depended on you until you just disappeared. Maybe I should have appreciated you more, or—”

“No, no, you did more than enough for me. You are one of the only reasons I have made it this far, not just in the program, but in life. I mean, I was such a scared little boy before I met you, I—” Seonghwa takes a shuddering breath. “I still am. I was scared to death of what you would think of me after that night, scared of what my father might do, scared I would lose my position, lose you—”

Hongjoong jumps up from his bed, coming to sit next to Seonghwa so he can wrap him in a hug. “You won’t lose me. No matter what happens, no matter what anyone says or does, you will never lose me. Promise.” His grip tightens as he says this, as if to emphasize the sincerity of his words.

Seonghwa feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes and he buries his face into Hongjoong’s shoulder, refusing to let them fall. He just allows himself to be held, to soak in the comfort. This feels familiar—safe, like home.

“I don’t want to run away anymore,” Seonghwa says.

“Good, because I can’t bear you running away again,” Hongjoong replies, his voice barely audible. “Move back in. Please.” Something about the way Hongjoong says this sounds like a confession.

“Okay, Joong. I will.”

They spend the rest of the night talking, laughing, making up for lost time. They agree that they won’t discuss their achievements, that they’ll put aside their differences, and just try to go back to the way things were. Time moves on, and slowly but surely, it seems to work. The following weeks are a whirlwind of vigorous training, missions, events, and more training, yet there is an underlying sense of peace and contentment that had been missing for so long.

Occasionally, Seonghwa still feels a tug of guilt, especially whenever his father decides to make some offhand comment. But when that does happen, all he has to do is look at Hongjoong and remember his promise. He won’t let anything get in the way of their friendship again.

One night, months after their reconciliation, Seonghwa walks into their quarters to find Hongjoong asleep at his desk, the dark circles under his eyes relaying his exhaustion. The sight is a familiar one; he remembers the countless times in the past when he found Hongjoong in a similar state. He quietly approaches him, taking in the numerous reports and other documents strewn about.

As gently as possibly, he picks Hongjoong up and carries him over to his bed, laying him down on top of his blankets. He softly brushes a stray lock of hair from Hongjoong’s forehead, smiling down at him as he sleeps. He stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, his body relaxing further into the comfort of the bed. Seonghwa contemplates waking him to eat, certain that he hasn’t, but decides against it. He seems like he needs sleep more than anything. Heading to his own bed, he crawls under the covers, ready to get some rest of his own.

Another year passes in a blur, with both Hongjoong and Seonghwa falling comfortably into their new roles. Hongjoong rises in rank, becoming a sergeant, while Seonghwa focuses on his own responsibilities, earning a solid reputation amongst their squad mates thanks to his meticulous eye for detail. Throughout it all, they try to carve out time to spend together when they can, refusing to let things get as bad as they were before.

One night, they’re out to dinner with Soohyuk, Sunhee, and General Nightingale to celebrate a recent win in which they managed to dismantle part of a criminal ring based in the Scrapyard. One of the leaders was captured and detained, thanks to the general’s brilliant plan and the Vanguard Elite’s flawless execution.

“Seonghwa?” His father holds up a bottle of wine, gesturing to Seonghwa’s empty glass.

Seonghwa clenches and unclenches his fist. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Are you sure? It’s a fine vintage.” The smirk on his lips suggests it’s more than a simple question.

Hongjoong clears his throat and turns to General Nightingale, smoothly redirecting the conversation. “So, General, can you tell me more about the new opportunity you mentioned earlier?”

Elowen stirs in her chair, eyes shifting around from person to person before settling on Seonghwa. He gets the subtle feeling that this is something he isn’t supposed to know about.

“We’re starting a new program at the beginning of next year,” she says. “The Affiliates Assembly has worked out so well that we want to open up more opportunities for those who already have a place in the Symposium and Inner Sector.”

“And what do you want with my son?” Sunhee asks, eyebrows furrowing. “I think he has plenty of opportunities open to him already.”

“Certainly he does. But, he’s one of our strongest soldiers and he could be an asset—”

Soohyuk clears his throat, putting a stop to the conversation. “I think it is best if you finish this conversation later.” He glances at Seonghwa. “Not everyone here is privy to this type of information, after all.”

Seonghwa feels a pang of irritation at his father’s needless remark. Hongjoong shoots him a sympathetic glance from across the table and opens his mouth as if to say something before deciding against it. The topic switches to that of the new flu that seems to be sweeping through the Outer Sector. Soohyuk reassures everyone that he has spoken with the Outer Sector representative and it is being contained—it shouldn’t spread to anyone inside the Ring.

Seonghwa forgets about the conversation entirely, having not wanted to focus on it for fear of his jealousy rearing its head. At least until a few weeks later, when Hongjoong bursts into their bed room, the door slamming shut behind him. Seonghwa nearly jumps out of his skin, dropping the book he was reading onto his bedsheets.

“Joong—” Seonghwa stops short, the words dying on his lips as he takes in the sight of the man before him.

Hongjoong’s chest is heaving with panicked breaths, his eyes wide with a fear unlike anything Seonghwa has ever seen before. His hands are clenched into fists, shaking at his sides. He doesn’t seem to even process the fact that he isn’t alone in the room, beginning to pace as he mutters frantically under his breath.

“Fuck, what the fuck… I can’t… the fucking lab… cogbrains, all of them…”

Seonghwa can’t make out everything he says, but it’s enough to send a chill down his spine. He gets up, approaching Hongjoong calmly, carefully.

“Easy, Joong,” he says. “It’s alright. Tell me what happened.” Hongjoong doesn’t seem to hear him, still muttering. “Hongjoong, hey!”

Seonghwa reaches out and grabs his arm with a firm grip, forcing him to still. His touch seems to jolt Hongjoong back into reality and he whirls around to face him,

“Hwa?” he whispers. His voice sounds so broken, so terrified, so unlike the friend Seonghwa has come to know and love. It’s heartbreaking.

“Hey, you’re okay. It’s okay,” Seonghwa murmurs, pulling the shorter man into his arms.

Hongjoong stiffens at first, but then his knees seem to buckle from underneath him as he collapses into the embrace. A strangled sob escapes him, muffled against the fabric of Seonghwa’s shirt, the same shirt that he’s grasping onto so desperately.

“I’m not okay… It’s not… I can’t…”

“Shh, shh… I’ve got you.”

Seonghwa wraps his arms more tightly around Hongjoong’s trembling body, rocking him gently, his hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. Even after he finally calms down, something about him is still so on-edge. He refuses to tell Seonghwa what he was upset about, no matter how much Seonghwa pries.

“Hongjoong, come on! Is it confidential? Does it have anything to do with what the general mentioned a few weeks ago? Why can’t you tell me?”

Hongjoong takes a shuddering breath. “I just can’t, Seonghwa. The situation is too complicated. I need to figure it out on my own.”

“What happened to our agreement to handle things together?”

“This isn’t… it’s not the same. I don’t want to bring you into this mess, it’s dangerous.”

“I can handle myself just fine—you don’t have to protect me!”

Hongjoong just shakes his head, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He looks like he wants to say more but instead gets up and storms toward the door.

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa calls after him, but it’s too late. The door slams shut behind him, leaving Seonghwa alone in the room.

In the following days, Hongjoong becomes a shell of his former self. He is silent and distant, avoiding everyone, especially Seonghwa. He disappears for hours on end, returning each time looking more drained than the last. Usually, around this time of year, he’d be talking about his upcoming birthday, pretending he doesn’t want anything while simultaneously dropping hints about the latest tech or some book he’s been eyeing.

Even without Hongjoong showing any indication of wanting to celebrate, Seonghwa is determined to do something to lift his spirits. He won’t let whatever secret Hongjoong is holding onto change their yearly tradition of celebrating together. So, he goes all out with the planning, and spends days scouring the Nexus shops for the perfect gift. He even debates heading to the pier to take a look at a different variety of items, but with the flu that has been plaguing the Outer Sector, that’s probably not the best idea.

He finds a leather-bound journal in an old-world antique shop, it’s pages yellowed by time but in perfect condition otherwise. Hongjoong loves to write, and he’s never owned anything quite like this. Seonghwa purchases it without a second thought, barely even glancing at the price. It’s perfect.

The morning of, Seonghwa comes back to their shared quarters at a time when he knows Hongjoong should be at training. His arms are full of decorations, and the journal is tucked safely away in a gift bag. He struggles with the door, having to balance everything on his hip in order to turn the handle, but when he finally manages to get it open, he freezes.

The room is empty.

Not empty as in Hongjoong just isn’t in there—empty as in every single trace of him is gone.

Seonghwa lets go of the decorations, dropping them to the floor with a resounding crash. Candles escape their packaging, rolling on the hardwood, disappearing under furniture. The journal lays abandoned next to a string of silver stars. He stares at the room in disbelief, taking in everything that’s missing. The usual clutter of papers on the desk—the clutter Seonghwa would always complain about—is gone. Hongjoong’s shoes aren’t haphazardly stashed in front of his wardrobe. His aurvox, his tablet, all of his devices are nowhere to be found.

He’s gone. Hongjoong is gone.

No, Seonghwa thinks. Maybe he went to another Sector on an urgent mission. Surely there’s a logical explanation as to why he would leave without saying anything. Seonghwa rushes out of the room, praying that General Nightingale will actually be in her office for once. The halls are eerily quiet as he sprints down them, and he can hear his own blood rushing in his ears.

Reaching the general’s office, he barely knocks, forgoing the usual protocol of waiting for her permission to enter. Elowen is seated at her desk, pouring over some files which she quickly closes upon his intrusion.

“Ah, there you are. I was hoping we would have a chance to talk.”

“Wait, before you say anything—do you know where Hongjoong is?”

She raises an eyebrow. “That is exactly what I was going to ask you.”

Seonghwa’s heart drops into his stomach, and his mouth goes dry. He has to wet his lips before asking, “But… but he was with you, wasn’t he? At training this morning?”

“No, he wasn’t,” she sighs and puts down her pen, rubbing her temples. “He never showed up for training today. In fact, he’s been MIA since yesterday.”

Seonghwa’s knees nearly buckle and he stumbles toward the nearest chair. He’s vaguely aware of Elowen saying something more, about how if Hongjoong isn’t found he’ll be marked AWOL, he’ll lose everything he has been working towards, so on and so forth. But he can’t focus on her words, not when he feels like his world is crumbling to pieces. Nothing he has ever felt, not losing the commendation, not what happened at the dinner, even comes close to comparing to the devastation he feels now.

One day turns into two, two into three, but Hongjoong never shows up. His family confirms that he has had no contact with them, and he is officially marked AWOL. Now, even if he does come back, he will never be able to return to the same life he had before.

Seonghwa’s initial shock turns into anger. How could he throw away everything he’s worked for? How could he abandon his responsibilities, his squad, his family… Seonghwa? How could he leave without so much as a goodbye? How could he break his promise? Each day, the betrayal and hypocrisy of it all festers, like a scab that refuses to heal.

To make things worse, the flu from the Outer Sector makes its way through the Ring, into the Inner Sector, the Symposium, and even the Nexus. It’s as if Hongjoong leaving started a chain reaction of unfortunate events. Soldiers are falling ill left and right, spending days or even weeks in the infirmary. The base seems to become quieter and quieter. At night, when Seonghwa lays in bed, alone in his room, it’s so silent that he feels suffocated.

One morning, one of his squad mates approaches him, a forlorn look on their face. “Hey, did you hear? Apparently Larkin is sick with whatever flu has been going around.”

Larkin is another member of the Elites, someone Seonghwa has grown quite close to over the past almost two years. The news is worrying—they still don’t know what’s causing the sickness, or what can cure it. Luckily, most people seem to recover with no lasting issues, but that isn’t much of a balm to his nerves. Maybe it’s because Hongjoong’s disappearance still feels so fresh, but the idea of anything happening to someone else he cares about makes him feel like he can’t breathe.

After he finishes up with his daily training routine, Seonghwa heads to the infirmary to pay Larkin a visit. It’s a cold, sterile place, the stark white of the walls and harsh lighting making everything seem so impersonal. The pungent smell of antiseptic fills the air, turning Seonghwa’s stomach. Trying to ignore it, he heads toward the reception desk, smiling at the woman working.

“Hi. I’m here to see a Mr. Ashwell?”

The nurse fiddles with the knob of her eyeglass, pupils moving rapidly as her eyes follow text only she can see. After a moment, she says, “Larkin Ashwell? I’m sorry, he’s in the restricted wing. No visitors allowed.”

“The restricted wing? Is this flu that contagious?”

She gives a non-committal shrug. “I’m just telling you what his file says, sir.”

“Oh… Well, thank you.”

He turns around as if to leave, but, when she looks away, he quickly slips down a side corridor. He can’t shake the nagging feeling that something weird is going on. If he leaves without seeing Larkin, he fears he’ll never get any answers.

He holds himself confidently, knowing that the key to deception is acting like you belong. He walks past all of the nurses and doctors with what he hopes is a determined look on his face. He nods at them, as if he is familiar with them, as if they should be familiar with him. Luckily, no one spares him a second glance, and he makes it all the way to the restricted wing with no issues. However, once he tries to open the door, an alarm blares.

“Shit,” he curses, glancing at the wall. He didn’t notice the ID reader.

Panicking, he backs away from the door, but it’s too late. Two guards turn the corner and spot him, looks of surprise crossing their faces; they’re both from his graduating class. He tries to explain what he’s doing there and, as sympathetic as they are, they can’t let him off the hook. He’s given a stern talking to from General Nightingale, as well as a warning that one more infraction on his record will terminate his status as a Vanguard Elite.

But the worst confrontation is, of course, the one with his father.

“Attempting to break into a restricted area? Must you continue to bring shame to this family? To me?”

“Dad—”

“Stop. If I hear about you doing one more thing—one more stupid, idiotic thing—the General will be the least of your worries. Do you understand?” His father’s voice is laced with pure venom and Seonghwa can’t help but flinch. “I said do you understand?”

Seonghwa bows his head, making himself seem as small as possible. “Yes, sir. I do.”

He should stop there. He should listen to the general’s warning, to his father’s. But whenever he tries to sleep, his thoughts go haywire. He remembers Hongjoong’s fear, the secret he was holding onto. He thinks about Larkin scared, alone, sick with some unknown disease. He can’t just do nothing.

And so he returns to the infirmary no more than a day later.

The same nurse is stationed at the desk and Seonghwa ducks around a corner, waiting for an opening. He’s learned his lesson—running into this blindly won’t get him anywhere. He doesn’t know how long it takes, but eventually she leaves to go check on a patient. He hurries up to the desk, grabs a spare ID card, and throws it around his neck, heading back to the restricted wing.

This time, he's ready. He scans the ID and the door opens with a satisfying click. He slips inside before anyone can see him. The restricted wing is dimly lit and eerily silent, save for the rhythmic beeping of machines. He searches everywhere for Larkin, looking at every bed, ducking his head into every private room, but he’s nowhere to be found.

Eventually, a doctor walks up to him, a questioning look on their face. “Excuse me, can I help you?”

Seonghwa’s heart jolts but he tries to temper down his panic. Confidence is key. “I’m looking for Mr. Ashwell.”

They activate their eyeglass, and, after a moment, confusion crosses their features. “Hm, it doesn’t look like we have a patient here by that name.”

“What do you mean? I was just told that he was in the restricted wing.”

“I’m sorry, but there must be some sort of mistake. I can go talk to my supervisor and see if we can get this all cleared up for you.”

Seonghwa shakes his head. He shouldn’t press his luck any further. “No, no, don’t bother. It’s fine. Thank you for your help.”

Feeling defeated, he leaves the infirmary, dropping the ID card on the floor near the reception desk to make it look as if someone had just misplaced it. He feels a prickling sensation of unease as he walks out into the crisp night air. The base is nearly deserted at this hour, save for the on-duty guards standing watch and a few people prepping for early morning drills. He pulls his collar up against the bite of cold and heads back to his quarters.

It all seems too suspicious: Hongjoong is AWOL, Larkin is sick with some mystery flu yet missing from the infirmary… Something is going on. It can’t be a coincidence.

The next day offers no respite from Seonghwa’s worries. General Nightingale sends out an announcement to everyone’s aurvox—Larkin is dead. The news hits him hard, knocking the breath out of him. He can hardly make sense of it. The illness, as far as he’s aware, hadn’t killed anyone. Why now?

He can’t stand not having any answers, so he goes to the one person he knows who should. His father. Soohyuk’s position as a Speaker means he has access to information few others possess, or at least that’s what he always boasts. Normally, Seonghwa would avoid his father at all costs, and the idea of depending on him for any kind of help doesn’t sit well with him. But he can look past his father’s misgivings for something this important.

He finds his father nursing a glass of whiskey in his study, the amber liquid catching the light in a way that makes it seem to glow. Soohyuk raises an eyebrow at his entrance.

“Seonghwa. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Dad. I need answers. About this flu. About Hongjoong. You have to know something.”

Soohyuk looks at him thoughtfully as he takes another sip of his drink. He doesn’t say anything for a long minute, and Seonghwa fights the urge to squirm under his gaze.

“I know a lot of things,” he finally says. “But that doesn’t mean I can share all of them.”

“Someone is dead! If you know something, you should feel obligated to do something about it!”

“The world is full of death. There’s nothing I, or anyone else, can do about that.”

His father’s cold response sends a chill down his spine—Seonghwa can’t believe how callous he is. But he can also tell that he is trying to avoid something.

“There’s something more going on, isn’t there?” he asks.

Soohyuk puts down his glass, standing up and brushing invisible specks of dust off of his pants. “I think we’re done here.”

Something inside Seonghwa snaps. He walks up to his father, getting in his face. “Stop! Stop treating me like a useless child! I am a soldier, a member of the Vanguard Elite squad—tell me what you know!”

Soohyuk finally loses it, pure rage slipping past his mask of indifference. He grabs Seonghwa by the collar, slamming him against the wall and knocking the wind out of him. “Fine. You want answers? You’re right. There is something big happening. Something that I cannot tell you about. Maybe if you got the commendation instead of your friend, you’d be able to be a part of this.”

“I’m your son! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“You are not my son. A child of mine would never be so weak.”

With that, he lets Seonghwa go, leaving the room without sparing him so much as a second glance. Seonghwa falls to his knees, gasping for breath. His back throbs from where he hit the wall, and he’s certain that there will be a nasty bruise there come morning.

For a moment, just one moment, he considers letting it all go and falling back into the role of an obedient soldier and son. But after everything that has happened, he can’t. Determined, he returns to his room and starts to pack.

He waits for an opportunity, and it comes in the form of a mission in the Outer Sector. The job is a simple one, something about discontented citizens and potential rebellion. It’s the Vanguard’s job to make sure nothing goes awry. But that’s not what he’s there for. Not this time.

With the rest of his squad distracted with their orders, he slips away from the group, putting his stealth training to good use. He sticks to alleyways and small, unlit streets, moving farther toward the outside of the Sector. The buildings become more and more dilapidated, some even missing parts of their walls or roofs. He feels like he never truly realized just how stark of a difference there is between the comfortability he grew up in and the harsh reality of those not as lucky. But his eyes are open to it now.

There’s something wrong in the Symposium. Something wrong with everything he has ever known. And if he doesn’t try to get to the bottom of it, who will?

He takes some materials out of his pack and, after some careful manipulation, creates what he hopes is a realistic looking fight scene. Signs of a struggle, torn clothing, even his Nexus ID thrown haphazardly on the ground. All that’s missing…

Seonghwa cuts open his palm, letting out a hiss. He clenches and unclenches his fist, encouraging more blood flow. He smears it on the clothes, on the ground, until enough of him has been left behind to paint a convincing picture. He knows this is it. There’s no going back from this, not after what he’s just done. Not that he wants to. He feels oddly free, despite the pain throbbing in his hand and the uncertainty of his future.

Bandaging the cut, he starts moving again. He knows there’s one place he can go where no one would ever think to look for him. The Scrapyard. A place for all of the Symposium and Inner Sector’s trash, broken technology and rusted metal. He thinks most of the upper class has forgotten that it even exists. He knows he has to be careful there, since it is a place home to scavengers and outlaws—people hardened by years of living in the underbelly of society. But he also knows it is a place where it is easy to disappear, to start anew.

Pulling his hood up over his face, he steps past the threshold, a small entrance hidden by piles of discarded machinery and rubble. As he moves deeper inside, scrap turns into ramshackle buildings. Surprisingly, it’s not nearly as dismal as he imagined. There's a strange charm to the place, with twinkling string lights hung between stacks of old cargo containers, casting everything in a warm glow. He stumbles upon an open area where a market bustles with activity, despite the late. Even some children run by, chasing a dilapidated automaton that zips through the dust.

As he ventures further, he finds himself at a makeshift bar, crafted from old metal panels and street signs. The bartender is a burly man with a wild mane of hair and a scar over his left eye.

"You’re new here,” he observes, wiping down a cracked glass. "Name's Brio. What can I get ya?”

“How about a place to stay?”

He gives a hearty laugh and looks Seonghwa up and down. "Ain't much for lodgin' here, pal. The 'yard ain't exactly a popular vacation spot. But there's always someplace to squeeze in if you ain't picky.”

“I’m not picky.”

“I find that pretty hard to believe, lookin’ at ya. You seem like the Inner Sector type.” Brio squints at him. "On the run from something or someone, are we?"

“I just need a place to lay low for awhile, that’s all.” Seonghwa raises an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

Brio grins at him, showcasing his missing front teeth. “Not at all, kid. Welcome to the Scrapyard.”

Somewhere, a stolen letter sits in a locked drawer.

To: Hwa

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bluehwale · 1 year

Text

the rainbow thief | miniseries masterpost

synopsis. camp half blood introduces you to a new life — new routines, a goddess as a mom, siblings you've only recently knew about, and of course, the eight friends (or lovers?) you made along the way.

pairing. ot8 demigods! ateez x daughter of iris! reader

genre. fluff, crack, maybe some angst

note. the last time i read the percy jackson series was when i was in 5th grade n now im in my 4th sem of uni </3 it's not gonna be 100% accurate to the camp half blood rules/ universe, but i try my best!

(chapters are arranged in chronological order)

01 / the beginning

you never expected to be in a camp meant for demigods but, here you are. you also didn't expect on becoming friends with a brooding emo boy who introduces you to five of his friends, nor do you expect to meet two bickering best friends but, here you are. or alternatively, you meet eight boys that makes your life much more bearable.

02 / the rainbow thief

eight demigods find themselves ecstatic over finally mustering up enough courage to let you know about their unbridled feelings for you, only to find a threat looming upon them; a rainbow thief that's set out to steal you. or alternatively, your best friends are oblivious to your reciprocating feelings.

03 / the end

#ateez x reader #ateez series #ateez miniseries #ateez fanfic #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez crack #ateez angst #ateez imagines #poly ateez x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #demigods ateez #the rainbow thief masterpost

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iamthenerdqueen · 19 days

Text

The Red String of Faith - Chapter XV

Idol!AteezXOCs Soulmates!ot8AteezXOCs OCXOC Slight Social Media AU!

MDNI 18+ ONLY

slight twigger warnings:Polyamory, group of 10, two OC's -feel free to replace one OC with yourself if you'd like- , listen this is an idea me and my best friend had and is something for fun read at own risk, not edited as always, also we are starting to explore themes such as bxb and gxg if thats not for you, this story may not be for you.

Chapter XI, Chapter XII, Chapter XIII, Chapter XIV, Dance Practice, Next

Lia hated the late lonely nights most of all, having a large condo was creepy when there was no one else there. She could only be on stream for so long and then it was too quiet at home. For a house that had ten different people living in it, most of the time they weren’t there. Most of the time she was there by herself. So, LIa had made it a habit to come by at the late-night practices as the comeback drew near.

Hongjoong slid down the wall to sit next to her and gently took her hand in his. On the other side of her, Yeosang was getting comfortable as well. In most practices, they danced until their legs felt like a liquid under them while other nights the brain cell simply leaves the room. Tonight the brain cell must have been with some other kpop group because Yunho was convinced that he was going to perfect a handstand into a split and get the choreographer to let him add it to the dance. San and Wooyoung were cheering him on while Mingi was trying to get it on video. The other four were spread out around the room trying to find the will to keep practicing.

“You and baby need to eat,” Hongjoong was firm with the fact that she should eat three meals a day if he couldn’t convince her to eat four.

“Have you all eaten since lunch? It’s nearly nine?” Hongjoong shook his head confirming what she already knew, no they hadn’t eaten yet.

“Okay then, i’ll eat if we all eat. But no fried chicken or pizza tonight, please,” with Yeosang’s love for chicken and the way that they turned to pizza when they didn’t have the energy to think of what to eat, she had eaten enough of that for a lifetime.

“Should someone go grab Lyra? I think she’s still in Yerim’s office helping her,” Mingi spoke from the other side of the room. Lyra had been there all day and hadn’t come to even peak her head in the entire time they had been practicing that evening.

Yerim was still a thorn in LIa’s side, doing her darndest to take up any spare time Lyra had and making up any excuse to keep Lyra at the company longer than she really needed to be. Like tonight, she requested that Lyra help her with some paperwork and an interview schedule that was coming up. None of these things had anything to do with the job she was hired to do at KQ.

Lia and the boys were getting more off-put with the needy manager and her attachment to their soulmate.

“Okay, listen we haven’t heard from her since the kids left from their session at 4:30, when she let us know that Yerim had asked for help. We’re not having another dinner, even if it’s here in the practice room without her,” the boys could only watch as Lia ranted before making her way out the door and down the hall. They were also less than pleased with the situation, but it was more complicated for them.

The march down the hall wasn’t a long one, but it felt like the halls would never end. If she didn’t know any better, Lia would swear the baby was moving more as if telling her not to go toward the office.

Standing outside the door was nothing short of nerve-wracking, and knocking was worse.

Yerim’s expression when she opened the door was like someone had vomited down her shirt. She looked at Lia like she was the worst thing to ever step in front of her.

“What?,” Yerim always made sure to speak to Lia in Korean as fast as she could get it out of her mouth. It was one of the many things Yerim could do to make any interaction they had awful, especially since the incident a week prior with Jongho. She had only gotten more nasty in her treatment of Lia and more desperate to keep Lyra as close to her as possible.

“Hi, Yerim. I’m just coming to get Lyra for dinner, we thought it would be nice if the entire soul group could eat together tonight,” Lia was just as nasty to the manager at this point. She tried her best to be polite but she wouldn’t take any more of her shit.

“She’s not going anywhere, my Lyra is going to have dinner with me tonight like she should,” Yerim had this crazy look in her eye, like a mad woman.

“Excuse me? Who do you think you are? Lyra! Lyra? Come on, the boys are waiting, we're going to have dinner then go home, we all need to have a talk,” there was some movement from in the room, and a noise that could only be described as rage left Yerim.

She stepped forward pushing Lia back a few steps as she slammed the door to her office shut, blocking Lia’s way to Lyra and vice versa separating the two of them from one another.

It was fast and then there was something sharp in Lia’s abdomen, it didn’t take her looking down to know that it was a knife. Black dots started to form with every blink of her eye, pain coming from all over but her only thought was of her baby. This bitch was trying to hurt her baby.

The black started to take over her vision before she could even get out a cry for help.

“Lia?” A voice was calling out to her, soothing and like home.

“Lia, are you going to get up now? You can’t sleep on the couch like this, not when you just got out of the hospital,” She opened her eyes to see Lyra and Yunho next to her in their home like nothing had ever been wrong. Like she hadn’t just been stabbed by a psycho at their place of work.

She sat straight up on the couch, her hand flying to her stomach to check for a puncture wound and to feel for the baby.

“The baby, oh my god the baby,” the panic in her voice made Yunho and Lyra go into overdrive.

“Lia, what baby? Are you okay, pretty?” Yunho kneeled right next to her and put a hand on her forehead to check for a spike in temperature.

“I was pregnant and got attacked and-,” Lia stopped talking for a second trying to take in everything as she got her wits about herself.

“Lia, you passed out a few nights ago and we went to the hospital, remember? It was a combination of lingering soul sickness because you didn’t finish your meds and in conjunction with the migrain you had put you on your ass,” with Lyra’s words it all came flooding back and her heart sank a little as reality came to hang over her head.

It had all been a dream, the pregnancy and the baby and the attack from Yerim. None of it had happened and a part of her was crushed that the little life she had been growing wasn’t real. A larger part of her, however, was relieved that there was no child because she knew it wasn’t the right time for a baby and all of the complications that come along with a kid.

“I had the craziest dream, I was pregnant and Yerim stabbed me,” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. Half of her thought that maybe she would trigger the time loop and it would put her back in the alternative universe where she was pregnant.

Instead, all she could hear were the laughs that came from Yunho and Lyra.

“The doctor did say you would have some wild dreams, but let's hope no one gets stabbed and no babies until later, " Yunho paused for a second, “Much later.”

She couldn’t help but fall back with her laughs, everything had seemed so real and it was such a long dream. But those good drugs always gave her weird dreams including the one time when she broke her ankle and had a dream about brooms trying to sweep her away but she couldn't run because of her ankle.

The next couple of days were odd, some days she had to remind herself that none of that had happened. She still had the worst feeling in her gut any time someone mentioned Yerim, but it was something she would get over with time. Everyone took this as a bit of a wake-up call, a sign that life changes when more soulmates come into the picture.

“You look tired,” Lia jumped a little, she hadn’t expected the sound of Jongho’s voice.

“How can you tell, my back is to you?” She had been doing some light editing on and off for the day. She wasn’t able to do much but a little bit of screen time wouldn’t hurt her.

“Because I can,” He wasn’t wrong but if she laid in bed doing nothing, she knew that sleep would never come. She needed to be exhausted to get to sleep, she could never relax enough to drift off if she wasn’t dead tired.

“Well, I’m not tired enough. I’ll be done soon and try to lay down,” She was lying, she would work into the early hours of the morning but this would make him feel better so in her mind it was fine. Turning to look at him, Lia gave him a small smile, something to reassure him only to find him not buying her words.

“No, we will go lay down together. I’m tired too and want to cuddle.” There was no argument there especially when he was already walking over to her with full intention to haul her away from the office. It was a good sleep, no witch dreams. It felt like a fresh start, a way to reconnect with this life.

A/N: sorry this is a short one, but I wanted y'all to have more than one update lol. I will be back eventually. until then, be good.

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luvt0kki · 5 months

Text

𝟎𝟎𝟐 | 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭

The distance and the time between us

It’ll never change my mind, cause’

Baby, I would die for you

🎧 : Die For You - The Weekend

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

001 | 002 | next

pairings : ot8 x reader ( mingi x reader )

wc: 6.1k ( sorry for any errors ;-; )

cw: mature, minors do not interact, nsfw, mentions of assassination, hinted violence, slow burn, polyamory, smut , dom!Mingi for this chapter, choking kink, reader is bratty here, seggs, oral, eavesdropping, Mingi’s nickname for reader is baby, masturbation, hinted threesome, we feel bad for Wooyoung, filming/recording kink, some possessiveness on Mingi’s end, voyeurism. SPECIAL APPEARANCE OF SOMEONE IN THE END 👀

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n: I’m so amazed at how well received the first chapter was and it really gave me the motivation to write the second one. I hope you guys like this one, it’s been awhile since I wrote some smut it’s like I’m losing my skill of seggsual euphemisms. ALSO ONE OF MY FAVOURITE WRITERS HERE IS READING MY FIC?! like omg no way 😭 hope you guys like this one . ( Feel to scream/fangirl in my askbox, I love those kind of interactions. I NEED TO KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS TOO) 💕

The Destiny was a spaceship Hongjoong procured with frightening ease from the Military Space Base he was stationed in long ago.

That was the sugarcoated way of saying he stole it.

If he hadn’t turned his back on the corrupt Military base, this fighter military starship turned into one of the most renowned ships and weaponized fortress, wouldn’t have become your shared space with your home, your home being the boys.

“I’ve kept your room clean,” Seonghwa stood next to you while you leaned into Mingi’s side who refused to not be on you in any way. He was clingy like that.

“You didn’t have too, Hwa.”

“I had some time to kill in the months you’ve been away. As usual, I didn’t snoop around.” He reassured you, hands folded neatly and elegantly behind him. “I left some little surprises for you to find too.”

“It’s not like she’ll be staying there all the time,” Mingi said, hand on the small of your back and guiding you up the ramp and into the ship. “She’ll be with me.”

“Don’t hog her.” San butted in, a small slouch in his usually straight posture.

“Awe, Sannie.” You cooed sweetly, rubbing his arm.

Wooyoung groaned, a couple of paces behind you, Mingi, San and Seonghwa.

“Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Yunho asked with a lilt of humor in his tone.

“Mingi’s room is next to mine.” Wooyoung huffed, feeling the comfort and safety of the Destiny make him relax with each step they took back into their home.

“And?” Yunho raised a brow.

“Never mind.” I don’t want to hear them fucking.

Even though Wooyoung didn’t say that out loud, Yunho knew what ‘never mind’ entailed. He can tell by the way he threw glances at you but the taller man only smiled and pretended like everything was fine and that he was oblivious.

“Join us in the lounge yeah?” He patted Wooyoung on the back. “We’ll be drinking a bit more and catching up. Plus, you can start to get know her better.”

“O-okay.” He could use a couple of more drinks to relax a bit.

Wooyoung paused a bit in the hall, letting his crew mates walk ahead of him and into the warm lit lounge a couple more steps forward. It’s not that he was anxious about you being here and adjusting to the dynamics with eight of you. He was confused. He felt as if there was something he didn’t know, something kept from him and he just couldn’t quite place his finger on it. It’s like something was staring him right in the face and whatever it was, was just at the tip of his tongue but he really couldn’t conclude what it was.

Other than that, the more he was around you, flashbacks of how you two danced in the club, so close and teasing each other plagued his thoughts. The way you touched him earlier that night left a ghost touch that sent shivers down his spine when he thought about it or like now, when he looked at you leaned into Mingi’s side on the couch with his arm draped over your shoulder laughing at something Jongho said.

Now he could see you properly. The mask was discarded and sat on the low coffee table in the center and without it, he was even more mesmerized. The way your eyes smiled with your lips and how your eyes paid attention to whoever spoke, as if everything they were saying to you was the most wonderful and interesting thing in the world. This was completely different from the woman he had danced with. You looked…sweet?

“Oh? This is the childhood best friend you were talking about.” Your pretty lashes fluttered at the realization while you held conversation with Yeosang sat on the couch across you with San.

Wooyoung perked up in his seat at the mention of him.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. I hope Hongjoong didn’t give you a hard time when you joined.” You smiled gently.

Hongjoong did take a while to warm up to him…but Wooyoung didn’t want to admit it, well not in front of the said man.

“Did he give you a hard time?” Wooyoung turned the question to you.

“Not at all.” You shrugged your shoulders a bit while Mingi played with the ends of the pink bob wig.

“You mean he couldn’t because you two were at each other’s throats.” Yunho chuckled, recalling the memory. “Literally.”

“What?” Wooyoung’s eyes widened, glancing between you and Hongjoong who shared a knowing look with one other. “Someone care to tell me more?”

“Y/N was actually hired to kill Hongjoong.” San spoke up. “She had snuck into the ship when we had docked in Estrade for supplies and she got to him in his office.”

“How?”

San laughed a little at the memory, glancing your way with a smile that Wooyoung has never seen on him before. It was different to the one when he’s happy, this one was tender and sweet.

He tilted his head up a little, hand gesturing to ceiling. “Through the vents.”

“It was almost too good to be true. The Destiny’s vents were perfect for anyone to infiltrate which was why after the incident, I advised him to tighten the security of the ship.” You added, unclasping your heels and slipping them off before folding them beneath you, snuggling closer to Mingi.

“I still don’t know how you found the entryway of the vents or even pried it open.” Hongjoong shook his head at the memory.

“What? Like it’s hard?” You stared down at him with a playful smirk and eyes twinkling challengingly.

“Careful, baby.” Mingi warned lightly, knowing what could transpire if you and Hongjoong went head to head again.

“So what stopped you from killing him?” Wooyoung asked. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.

“My devilishly good looks.” Hongjoong uttered while you said a different answer.

“San.”

A silence fell amongst the group, it was comfortable for the most part but Wooyoung found the silence to be fuel to the bonfire of curiosity that sparked in the private dance room.

Noticing Wooyoung’s inquisitiveness, you decided to give him just enough to quiet his mind.

“San and I had worked together in the past. I trust him with my life. He asked me not to kill Hongjoong so…I didn’t.”

The answer was enough for now and a part of Wooyoung told him to stop prying and that he shouldn’t , not when he’s around all the other members. What irked him as well was how you had said that with such a pretty smile and a soft look in your eyes. Were you really dangerous?

“It’s not like you could, sweetheart.” Hongjoong smirked and you rolled your eyes, quickly deciding to end the growing tension with all the questions. There were things that needed to be discussed with the others. Which was what exactly about you and about your past could be shared with the new crew member.

“No, I couldn’t.”

Your voice was soft, gazing at the Captain in a way Wooyoung felt envious. Could he earn the same gaze from you? Would you look at him one day with the same fondness you had for all of them?

“You’re unfortunately too handsome to kill. It’d be a shame for such a pretty face to be smothered by a pillow.”

Your words made Hongjoong laugh while the rest smiled at how you two interacted. Wooyoung didn’t know if he was reading into it too much but they all looked at you in a way that hinted a closeness that was more than camaraderie, and a bond and trust that grew between a crew.

“As much as I’d love to stay up and catch up with you all, I’m going to retire for the evening.” You bade them good night, hooking the straps of your heels by your finger before getting off the couch and your other hand in Mingi’s.

“Goodnight, fellas.” Mingi clicked his tongue with a smirk, most of them rolling their eyes at him as the two of you made your way to the crews deck.

Once the two of you were out of ear shot, Seonghwa spoke.

“San, you’re pouting.”

“Mingi hogs her.” He murmured almost child like and crossed his arms over his chest.

“We’ll all get a chance to catch up and spend time with her. But you know…Mingi.”

“He’s way too clingy. She was my friend first.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know.” Yunho placed his hands on San’s shoulders briefly before excusing himself to his room.

Wooyoung was next to call it a night, unaware of how Yeosang, Jongho, Seonghwa and Hongjoong watched him leave. They were concerned…but they knew they needed to discuss something. Well, someone.

Wooyoung.

“So? Did you enjoy my little show?”

Mingi was watching you look around his room as if it was the first time you were ever let in here. He was sat on the foot of his bed, hands on the mattress as you removed your earrings and placed it on his desk.

“I did,” he replied, eyes completely on you and taking you in. “But when I realized that you had been dancing for other men I got jealous.” There was that hint of agitation in his voice.

“You don’t need to be jealous.” You reassured him, removing Yunho’s blazer and draping it over neatly on the back rest of Ming’s desk chair. “They never touched me.”

Mingi’s eyes darkened at the sight of your almost naked form. It has been too long since he was last with you.

You watched Mingi’s eyes rake your form through the mirror. He scanned you from your heels to your head. His eyes lingered on the plumpness of your ass accentuated by the lace purple underwear a bit longer before he met your eyes in the mirror.

“Keep the wig on, baby.”

“Oh, you like it?” You grinned, turning around to slowly walk towards him, letting the beaded strings of your bralette sway and shimmer.

“I like the whole get up. It’s sexy.” His hand reached for your waist once you stood between his parted thighs, the tall big man gazing up at you with desire.

“You like that I’m dressed like a stripper?” You raised a brow questioningly while you ran your fingers through his short pink hair that matched your wig.

“I like you in anything.” He slid his hands up higher til his thumbs rest just below the band of your bra. “You look so pretty.”

“I love the new hair,” you giggled, caressing his handsome face. “Yunho colored it for you?”

“Yeah,” he hummed, leaning his head into your abdomen.

“I’m sorry I was away for so long.”

“Take me with you next time…or San or Yeosang.” He murmured, voice soft as you held him to you. “I’ll rest easier knowing one of us is with you.”

“I can handle myself. You know that.”

Mingi groaned a little before guiding you to sit on his lap, your pretty legs straddling his waist while his hands supported and cradled your back.

“I know…” he sighed.

The two of you were now face to face. Mingi looked into your eyes, searching them. For what, you didn’t know but you let him. “But you’ll let me take care of you…” he cupped your face gently, his thumb caressing your cheekbone and like a cat, you leaned into his touch, eyes closing as you relished his warmth. “Right?” His thumb swiped over your lower lip, your eyes fluttering open as he parted them just a little.

Despite his reputation, he was your gentle and loving Mingi. Sure, he was rough around the edges and appeared domineering. No one flies a fighter jet like he does and as the gunner and the best marksman among the crew, he was intimidating. But he gave himself to you and you did the same.

“Always.”

This was what he missed. The intimacy that he shared with you. That sweet loving gaze—

Mingi felt a sudden shock of heat pass through him. In less than two seconds your loving gaze intensified to desire and your lips were wrapped around his thumb, enveloping his digit in your mouth. The cherry on top for him was how you swirled your hot tongue and sucked lightly. You pulled back with a cute little quiet pop and looked at him with eyes that were far too innocent after what you just did. Licking his lips, he gripped your face, gently but strong enough the way you liked and to establish dominance.

This was also something he missed.

“If my pretty girl wants to be naughty…” he leaned in closer, the cute challenging look in your eyes unwavering. “I’m going to have to remind her how to behave.”

“But I am a good girl.” You shrugged him off of you so that you could press your lips on his defined jaw. “I told you, I never let anyone touch me.”

“You let Wooyoung touch you.” His hands rested on your hips now as you left gentle kisses along the skin of his neck, appeasing to him.

“So? It’s not like I’ll let him fuck me.” You nipped at his neck, tone sweet and unfortunately too bratty.

Next thing you knew, his ringed hand wrapped around your throat. It wasn’t in anyway to hurt you, Mingi would never. No. It’s how you two played sometimes. His hold on you made heat stir in your lower abdomen and his intense gaze was getting you excited.

“Of course you won’t.” He spoke, voice deep and low, and with his other hand on your hip, he guided you to drag your clothed cunt over the bulge of his trousers. Seeing your determined gaze crack with the friction, he grinned. “You won’t let him fuck you. You know why?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to hold back your whimpers, a little embarrassed that your resolve was so quick to crumble because of him but you knew that turned him on.

“Use your words, baby.” He squeezed your neck gently while his other hand stilled your hips, making you huff at the pause.

“I-I don’t know.” You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your hips yourself, mouth watering at the thought of his member hidden beneath his pants.

Mingi tapped your hip in warning. You stilled and you did your best to glare at him. “Why?”

“He hasn’t earned it, baby.” His hand left your neck, trailing down to briefly brush the dip between your collarbones and he leaned to kiss your chest. “He hasn’t earned it like we had.”

“Is that why you were gatekeeping me?”

“Maybe.” You felt him grin on your skin as he kissed what was exposed of your breasts in your bralette. “Get up.”

You almost whined, not wanting to leave his lap or his kisses to stop but you did so anyway.

It’s like you were back to square one, standing between his legs while he gazed at you except you couldn’t stop glancing at the bulge in his trousers.

He clicked his tongue. “Is that what you want, baby?”

Instead of answering him, which could get you into some fun trouble, you slowly got on your knees without breaking his gaze. You slid your hands up his muscular thick thighs, knowing to not touch where you wanted to touch him the most.

Mingi noticed this and smiled. “Good girl.” He cooed, tucking the strands of your pink wig behind your ear. “You remember. Go on then.”

Getting his permission, your fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper, prying the fabric apart to reveal his erection in the confines of his briefs. You skimmed your fingers along the waistband, admiring his toned abdomen before tugging it low enough til his cock sprung free.

Without wasting another moment, you wrapped your hand around his length, feeling your walls pulse around nothing at how hot and heavy he was in your hand. His tip was pink and growing slick with precum. You licked your lips at the sight and you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

Mingi groaned lowly when you slowly pumped his length, kissing the hot and pink tip before enveloping the head of his cock in your mouth.

“Fuck.” He hissed. The sight of your glossed lips wrapped around him and the sensation of your wet tongue swirling his tip was sinfully perfect. “You look so pretty right now, baby.”

Oh how you loved how deep his voice was when he talked dirty. “God, I’m so lucky I get to fuck you first.”

He threw his head back as you took him deeper in your mouth, your struggle to take more of him something he always found so cute.

As much as you loved to blow your boyfriend, he was always a challenge to take. He was thicker than and longer than your other lovers. Well, Yunho was also a challenge but you were focused on Mingi right now and he was another story.

Your brows were knitted and your eyes were looking at him pleadingly as you did your best to bob your head along his length, sucking and swirling your tongue the way he liked while using your hand to pump what you couldn’t take of him. His taste and his low moans were making you ache even more, god you couldn’t wait for him to touch you.

“Shit, baby. You’re doing so well taking me in that pretty little mouth.” He praised, petting the top of your head lovingly. “C’mon baby. The quicker you make me cum the sooner I’ll be touching you. You’re getting wet aren’t you?”

Batting your lashes at him, you did your best to tell him yes while hollowing your cheeks and taking him a little more deeper, lost in his taste and his heat and fighting against your gag reflex. Your body was buzzing with need and when his tip reached the back of your throat, Mingi let out the prettiest moan.

The curse of silence that fell upon his room for months since you left was finally broken. Within the four walls, the not so quiet sound of your muffled moans and the obscene wet slurping of you sucking his cock bounced off them. You were taking your time, enjoying each glide of him against your flattened tongue and pumping the rest of his length in tandem with your movement.

Mingi through heavy lidded eyes searched for your gaze and he didn’t know if he regretted doing so because seeing your pretty eyes look up at him as you bobbed your head and suckled at his sensitive tip, he could’ve cum right then and there.

Lost in the sinfully indulgent pleasure, Mingi hadn’t noticed that his door was open just a crack, not fully closed. Even if he did notice, he wouldn’t care since it wouldn’t be the first time. Plus the rest of the crew weren’t strangers to being caught in the act with you. Most of the time they ignore it or tease each other about it after. And sometimes, it led to some…extra fun. But the man who recently settled into the room beside Mingi didn’t know that.

He was just on his way back from the showers since only two rooms had their own bathroom which was Hongjoong’s and Seonghwa’s.

He didn’t mean to look. He was just supposed to take his cold shower and then head to bed.

The sounds lured him in. And with his pent up sexual frustration he had only wanted to shut the stupid door fully and scold Mingi tomorrow about it…but when he saw the shade of pink that was haunting him, he just couldn’t function. Not when your head was bobbing up and down between Mingi’s spread thighs and how your back and ass looked so sexy while you were at it.

Wooyoung gulped, his own cock stirring at the lewd sight. He really should go.

And yet he continued to gawk at you, taking in the curve of your waist and the aesthetically pleasing view of your back. As if it couldn’t get any worse for Wooyoung, he noticed your free hand was between your thighs. Somehow in that dimly lit room he could see how you were working your fingers below you.

You moaned around Mingi’s length, the vibrations earning you a deep groan.

‘Fuck.’ Wooyoung swore over and over in his head, eyes unable to break from the way you were touching yourself. He wondered how wet you were. If your arousal soaked through the cotton of your underwear and if your fingers were easily gliding over your swollen clit.

Mingi, despite the dizziness of pleasure muddling his brain, finally noticed your hand between your thighs. “You getting wet by just sucking my cock, baby?”

Your lips released him with a pop and you were softly panting, trying to catch your breath. You nodded in response going at it again and this time, you were only using your mouth now and taking him deeper. Your hand other hand left your aching cunt only to rest atop his left thigh like your other hand on his right to keep you steady.

“Shit!” Mingi cursed, his hand coming to the back of your head to guide you down further, feeling the pressure on the base of his spine as he watched you take whatever you could fit of him in your little mouth.

Wooyoung bit his lip to keep himself from making any noise but he could still feel his throat dry at the obscene sight. The sound of your muffled whines and moans was driving him crazy.

Mingi’s fingers tangled themselves in your pink wig, his hips bucking until he stilled, cock twitching in your mouth. Hot spurts of his release spilled down your throat, your eyes not breaking away from his face that was contorted in pure bliss.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” He whined.

Only his tip in your mouth, he felt you swallow his release. “Good fucking girl.” His grip on your wig loosened to pet you. You hummed at his words, batting your lashes up at him in the way that made his heart flutter before you released him from your mouth. “Open up, let me see.”

Mingi was down bad. Really bad.

He reached into his pocket to whip out his phone, swiping the screen to the camera app. With pink lip gloss smudged at the corners of your mouth, your wig a little messy and his perspective with you on your knees, gave the camera the perfect view of your cute face, your tits in your purple bralette and his inner thighs that framed you.

You parted your lips and stuck out your tongue a little, and Mingi bit his lip when he saw a little bit of his cum remained on your tongue.

“Fuck, you look so hot, baby.” He captured a couple of shots while you decided to extend his high and to also give him a couple more pics to take.

Giving him a cute smile, you kissed the head of his sensitive cock and heard the little digital tone of the record button in his cell. He hissed at the stimulation and yet he let you continue to ride out his orgasm, his thighs tensing then relaxing a bit as you licked along his length.

Mingi was going to use this for the next time you’re away which won’t be anytime soon but you know, just in case and also for bragging rights for getting to fuck you in your stripper costume.

“Will you return the favor, Min?” You asked him, your voice husky from taking his cock deep in your throat. “I showed you how good I am for you.”

He couldn’t help but grin at your cute tone. You knew he was going to show this to the others to make them jealous so you were putting on a show exclusively for Mingi that the others won’t be able to have.

“Tell me exactly what favor I have to return to my good girl. Hm?” He knew how shy you actually were when speaking about what you wanted in a little more detail and it was something that all of them found endearing. Even though you could be bold, when it came down to things in the bedroom, you were submissive. You were bratty which was in your nature most of the time and Mingi like three other members of the crew loved to tame and fuck the brat out of you.

With your head muddled with lust, you softly uttered out your response, unaware of how needy you sounded.

“I want you to taste me too.”

Wooyoung palmed himself through his sweats. He wanted to taste you. He’s been wanting to and thinking about it since he danced with you.

“Yeah? And then I’ll fuck your pretty little pussy. You want that?”

You nodded, suckling at his length.

“Take off your top, baby. Show them what they’re missing out on right now.”

Without anymore direction, you knew what to do. You slowly got up, his hand holding his phone following your movement and he captured the complete look one last time.

Your fingers pinched at the front clasps of your bra, Mingi’s eyes glued on you, watching you intently.

You unhooked it and without rushing, unveiled to him and the camera your bare breasts. From where Wooyoung stood, he couldn’t see the teasing reveal. It was frustrating. Especially when you slowly let the pretty bralette drop into a pile at your feet and he could only see your naked back.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Not wanting to get caught, he quietly retreated back into his room, shut the door and locked it. With his back against the cool surface, he freed his cock from his sweats and wrapped a hand around his length, cursing Mingi in his head for being so lucky. With each stroke, the man was forgotten and his head was filled with thoughts of you. He tightened his grip when he began to imagine himself in Mingi’s place.

Was he going to feel guilty about it later? Yes but fuck did he needed to jack off. He’ll regret it later.

…

You gripped the pillow beneath your head while the other was over your hand trying to muffle your voice as moans left you so embarrassingly easy. Mingi had one hand holding his phone your way while the other was splayed on your belly as his thumb massaged your clit and he thrusted into your tight heat.

Your panties were just pushed to the side while he stuffed you full with his thick length. He had slipped in so easily with how wet you were and you were creaming around his cock, the mess of it all and the obscene wet squelching making him fuck you harder.

“Mingi,” you panted, your core hot with pleasure and mind spinning from the delicious drag of his cock against your pulsing walls. “B-big. You’re so big.” You whined out, the pleasure close to making you cry.

“Yeah? But you can take me right? Look at you taking me so well. Fuck.”

You nodded at his words, unable to form anything coherent and not caring about the fact he was filming the mess you were making on his cock.

His praises only made your head spin further and when he tossed his phone to the side and was focused on fucking you, the tension in your lower belly grew tighter.

Mingi admired the way you looked before him, tits bouncing with each snap of his hips and your legs around him while the garter where money bills had been clipped to earlier remained on your thigh and the gorgeous, perfect sight of your pussy lips parted to accommodate his cock that stretched you out. All of that was consuming him. He missed how you felt, how smooth and warm your skin was, and how his name left your lips in moans and sweet sighs.

The wet smacking of his hips against yours and both of yours and his moans filled the room, and unfortunately for Wooyoung, he could hear you both despite it being muffled. Well he could hear because he had opened his door a little and the two of you were too preoccupied to take note of how Mingi’s door wasn’t shut fully. He was fucking his cock into his fist to the sound of you both.

Your arms reached out for Mingi and his heart melted at the sight. He leaned forward letting them wrap around him and your legs did the same with his hips. He crashed his plump lips against yours, swallowing your moans and cries, feeling your walls tighten further around him telling him you were close. He was close too.

He felt your nails dig into the muscles of his back and he groaned at the sweet pain, his hand between the two of you applying more pressure to your clit which pushed you to the edge. Walls tightening around him which hindered his fast thrusts, he let you feel your orgasm and god, did he love it when you came around him. Your velvety walls spasmed around his cock and he could feel it, and your thighs shook from the sudden wave of release.

“That’s my good girl. That’s it. Cum around my cock. Good girl.” He rasped against your ear before kissing your neck and slowly beginning to move his hips again.

“M-Min— wait,” you whimpered, sensitive and body electric.

“I’m close baby. You’ll let me finish too right? Inside?”

The idea made you moan softly and cave. “O-okay.” You managed to get out, the overstimulation so good and too much at the same time.

You gasped when he sped up, chasing his release. He was groaning and panting against your neck like a dog in heat. Your fingers threaded through his hair, gripping the short strands as you felt your second orgasm building up again.

“I love you.” He murmured against your neck, rutting into you. You held him closer. “I love you. I love you. I love you…”He chanted over and over, completely loss in you. You missed those words from him and you weren’t sure if you were tearing up from the pleasure or how much you loved him too. Maybe both.

“I love you too Mingi.” You managed to say as your body bounced with each thrust and you gripped his hair tighter, the heels of your feet digging into lower back.

“Fuck!” Mingi snapped his hips one last time before completely stilling, shooting his hot cum into your womb. The sensation of him filling you up made you cum again so quickly and Mingi hissed at the sinful feeling of your walls fluttering around him again, milking his cock for all he’s worth, and what couldn’t fit in your womb began to leak out of you.

“I love you,” he sighed again, lifting his head from your neck to press his lips on yours messily and you kiss him back, both of you coming down from your highs. “Never leave me again, please.”

That tugged at your heart strongly.

Many believed it was San who was the clingiest among all them but in truth, it was Mingi. It didn’t look like it with his tough, bad boy coded exterior and how brutal he could be when he was armed but it was him who you trusted and opened up to first when you joined them.

“Even if you can’t, just say you will.”

And then your heart was ripped out your chest and in his hands.

“I won’t leave,” you told him, kissing his lips and cupping his face in your hands. “I promise.”

“This was the longest you were away.”

“I know…I’m sorry but I’m here now. I won’t be going anywhere. Okay?”

He nodded, sliding his hands under you, cradling your back so he could move the both of you to a comfortable position. Without untangling from each other’s embrace, he lied on his back with you on top him, your chest pressed against his and his arms wrapped around you.

In the room next to Mingi’s, Wooyoung’s head was thrown back as he came down from his own high. His release dripped down his hand and stained the fabric of his shirt.

While the two lovers on the other side laid in each others loving embrace, he was all alone on the floor with his back against the foot of his bed after having imagined fucking you and wishing his cum was on your body instead.

“Shit…” he cursed to himself , realizing what he had just done.

The guilt was gonna eat him up after and he may not be able to look you or Mingi in the eyes tomorrow after what he did.

Did he still want to fuck you? Yes. But he’ll keep that fact to himself and only himself. No one needed to know. It’ll pass anyways. Maybe a couple more times jerking off to you will make him get over it.

Yunho stretched his back on the way back to the crews deck, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were looking over the data you had gotten for them and he had just finished some touches to his and Wooyoung’s weapon reparations for Mingi.

Before heading to his room, he decided to check on the said man who had always come back with his, Jongho’s and Wooyoung’s weapons damaged every single time he was sent on the field.

“Fuck,” he heard Mingi’s faint voice at the start of the corridor.

He sighed as he removed his gloves, heading to Mingi’s room, his brow rising as he saw the door slightly open. He glanced at Wooyoung’s closed door and shook his head a little before stepping inside Mingi’s room and finally closing the door behind him.

He leaned against metal, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Mingi naked in all his glory fuck into you from behind. Your moans and whimpers were muffled as you bit at the pillow. Mingi’s hands were on your hips and his hold on you was the only reason your ass was still up. Your thighs were shaking and trembling with each thrust as the new angle made you feel him deeper inside of you.

Yunho bit his lip watching the two of you and glanced over at Mingi’s desk where his blazer was then at the mirror where he could see you face down and ass up with a your back beautifully curved as Mingi fucked you.

He began to unbutton his shirt.

“Next time, make sure you close the door properly. I could hear you from the corridor.” Yunho finally spoke but his presence didn’t stop Mingi’s rhythmic thrusts.

“It wasn’t closed?” He grunted, a hand pressing against your upper back to keep you down.

“It wasn’t wide open but if I was Wooyoung, I would be suffering.” Yunho threw his gloves onto the desk. “Hi, sweetheart.” He went to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed and speaking as if you weren’t being railed from behind.

He caressed the crown of your head, noticing the mascara smudged around your eyes in a pretty way. Yunho also noticed Mingi’s cell nearby on the bed and rolled his eyes, knowing exactly why it was there.

He’ll ask Mingi for a copy later.

“How many times has he made you cum?” He asked you, thumb wiping away the smudged makeup.

“Ah—f-fo—,” you gasped, clutching the pillow tigther . “Four.” It was cute how you couldn’t really speak properly.

“Four times ?” Yunho was impressed, you nodded quickly. “How many times has he said I love you?”

“Shut up, man.” Mingi huffed, knowing he was going to get teased for that.

Yunho raised his hands in surrender, he wasn’t here for that anyways.

He looked at Mingi. The marksman’s brows were knitted together and he was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and below where you two were connected was a darkened spot on the sheets. A mess caused by both yours and Mingi’s release, well mostly Mingi’s as your pussy was leaking white from being filled to the brim.

“I know you wanted her for yourself tonight but…” Yunho slipped his hand into yours, and you held his hand tight as you moaned into the pillow.

“Got room for one more?”

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