#wooyoung's uniforms are always suits

[hozukitofu]

james bond can piss right off

okay, fine.

maybe wooyoung has too much pride in espionage. maybe thinking that he is the best won’t help him in the long run.

fine. 

that doesn’t explain any of this though. it doesn’t explain the unsuspecting traps, the literal net and poison combo deal that nabbed him the moment he rigged into the warehouse.

wooyoung is good at his job. it’s how he can demand a ridiculous sum of payment up front and collect even more after the job with guarantee that he will do well. but right now? he can kiss that diamond encrusted knife collection goodbye as he slumps sideways and hit the floor.

vaguely he can hear soft footsteps and a small chain of giggles as his vision tunnels and shutters off.

he wakes in a really undignified lump - flailing and rocking on a bound chair, legs coming off the ground. he’s inside a warehouse - surroundings are unclear to determine if it’s the one he’s meant to break into - tightly knotted to a chair. just a simple kitchen chair, wooden, can easily topple if he decides to rock a little too hard and fall over, breaking his nose on impact.

he received training to get out of chairs in these very specific situations, yes, but wooyoung’s fatal flaw is that when a situation hasn’t arrived in more than two years he tends to be slack on the details of how to deal with it specifically.

his mortal undoing will be his carelessness with a side of pride

“you’re up!” a soft voice cheers. “i thought we had to resort to a cold bucket of water to the face if you didn’t wake up and leave the party.”

“that wasn’t a very fun party,” he grouses, peeking open an eye. tall, his capturer is tall. male, so that makes fighting his way out probably a little bit harder. “where are all the music and terrible alcohol?”

“didn’t have that, but you did take in a healthy dose of chloroform,” the culprit bends down, lower, until he reaches eye level with wooyoung, goggles and a face mask obscuring all signs of possible identifiable features.

yeosang is going to cut him open and eat his liver if he returns without either the intel needed or some form of identification on the one who managed to usurp his unshakable post as Master Spy.

“no wonder my mouth still tastes sweet,” he laments, though not bitterly. everything is still too woozy and baffling that he can’t exactly put a finger on it. 

“i try my best,” the man in the shadow, the thing with the sweet voice - seriously, is that a real voice? is he just hallucinating? can he tell how many fingers are there in front of him if someone does try to test his sight? “apologies for the ambush. i can’t have others jeopardising my objective.”

“i can understand that,” wooyoung grunts, working a wrist free as he wobbles and pretends to have terrible balance on a bound, shaky chair. uneven legs, ha ha, he can claim. “emphatically.”

“i’m so glad we have something in common,” he can hear the smile and the genuine pleasantry, dripping from his culprit’s drawling tone. why does he speak Like That?

“yeah…” he inches away, shaking loose and sweaty hair from flopping even further into his eyes and eyelashes. “so glad…”

“your sarcasm wounds me. i thought we had a connection,” the person laments, hand clasping the front of his long sweeping coat - can people genuinely move in that, wooyoung just want to talk. 

“we would, if you would show me your face,” he coughs, hoping that it’s loud enough to mask the rip of fabric that just went on in the back of his tightly bound hand. he thinks it’s the handcuff, hybridised with something that hitches on top of holding him in. unlike the chair situation, he actually paid attention when the knots lectures came about. his long lost dream was to be a sea pirate, so he obsessed over knots and ship diagrams when he was younger, and then that dream had to be adapted to becoming an internationally hunted espionage agent, occasionally boarding ships to dig through people’s loots and information before escaping through the steam room’s window and swimming to a canoe waiting nearby.

but pirate childhood dream aside, he still can’t get out. the problem is that while he is great at tying people up, he can’t get his brain to do the reverse of untying himself from difficult knots that he can do himself fast enough to avoid a rapid round of gunfire or a hostage situation, which, he is unfortunately in one at the moment. 

“i don’t do interrogation until the third date,” there is a wink in there, wooyoung can tell. damn, his brain is bad with memorising voices. he is a visual learner, and right now the entire assemble this guy has got going for him is really bloody effective. he can’t ascertain a definitive height, body shape, face shape, eye - nothing. nada. zilch. Zero.

argh yeosang and hongjoong-hyung are both going to gang up and dangle him on the top of a telecommunication tower somewhere, for failing this mission. there is no winning if he isn’t in the specified location that he was meant to target and rob the intel of, there is no winning if he had been gassed and bound and definitely no victory in not being able to pinpoint who captured him and jeopardise his mission.

“damn,” he sighs, dramatic and dejected. wait. date. 

maybe -

perhaps…

he’s good at what he does because all his skills and arsenals are trained towards efficiency at spying and getting himself out of compromising situations. he himself had never been a. been in a seduction mission before or b. been on the receiving end of an odd proposition in the middle of a mission gone sideways. 

there is a first for everything. there are always ways out, you’re not looking hard enough, hongjoong’s voice nags at him in his coconut numbskull. 

okay. okay. he can do this. play this game, and see if he can do anything about it.

“what do you normally do on your first dates?” he throws himself forward, dragging his chair with his lurch frontward. 

his kidnapped in black only laughs, catching him across the shoulder and righting him. he doesn’t smell like anything, deceptively free of cologne or aftershave or a brand of detergent. nothing. zero signs given to him. damn. not even a crumb.

“well, we’d tell each other what we would go by, but i can see that you’re at a slight disadvantage - i did a bit of a facebook stalking round, don’t feel bad if you haven’t done the same yet. the woes of blind dating,” the voice is charming, and it’s nice to listen to, but the fake cheeriness is slowly bleeding out to genuine cheek. okay so wooyoung is mostly an obstacle to be removed, but he also garnered enough interest to prompt this chat and the subtle veneer of maybe mockery in his cheery voice.

he can tell that much, but he’s not an idiot. he knows he’s been researched inside out to be rendered into a chair and bound, and that’s the kind of research he’d like to have insight to, because wooyoung is a ghost story among the spying world. people don’t think he exists, and have to go through a chain of convoluted communication lines to reach out to him and request his service, with money always at the ready. he is famous, but literally only ten people know his face, because his face is similar to many others - a curse, but now a blessing. he had pretended to be park jimin too many times for him to count, an apology to the politician himself, but, if the shoe fits, he’ll take that shoe and running off with it.

so maybe this is just an opportunity to gloat - look at me, i one upped the great wooyoung, got him tied up in a chair, as i skip away with the intel he was meant to collect for his mission. 

that is deeply uncomfortable to think about. wooyoung has to one up him back, return the favour. he’s playing this game with literally no arms, no sight, just his ears and his brain working overtime. he thinks he might scrape a crumb from this situation yet.

“wouldn’t it be common courtesy to let your date know something to call you by? i’ve been so kind as to show up to the date. you wouldn’t break a poor man’s heart by leaving him in the dark like this?” he thinks this is a good attempt of a breathy, seductive voice, from the vague corners of his memory of how ‘seduction’ is supposed to work. 

“ah,” there is careful consideration in that one sound. wooyoung hopes it’s an hmm i might indulge in your silly requests and give you a fake name, and not now i have to kill you because you’re getting more annoying by the minute and my gloating moment is over. “i thought you don’t play the seduction game.”

wooyoung nods until his brain catches up with the words and he’s nodding as his brain plays W H A T  to the accompaniment of a cambodian gong as everything goes off in flames .  

“you’re special,” wooyoung winks, greasy and disgusting, and lets the playful expression slides off his face completely. “also you one upped me and i have to play you right back.”

“that’s not very gentlemanly of you,” the stranger chides. “now how can i give you a name or a hint?”

“a hint cannot be any more misleading than a name, so,” he hangs his head, aware that there are hands still planted on his shoulder. he shrugs them off, hopping back on his chair, brain thinking hard. a wrist of his is loose enough to twist around and smack this one across the face, but then he has to let that distance be regained. gain back the weird tantalising space that hostage and kidnapper allow between them, prey and predator, moments before disaster strikes.

“well,” and the first step is taken. wooyoung watches, narrowing his eyes, as the distance between them is lessened, as the shadowy figure kneels in front of him, hand pressing into his vest. “if you interest me enough, i promise to give you a useful hint.”

he doesn’t know jackshit about being interesting or anything pertaining to that, but he knows an opportunity when it presents itself to him, and he rips an arm socket nearly loose from his shoulder joint, swinging it across the face of his kidnapper, the reaction going exactly to plan, dislodging the ugly pair of glasses away, revealing the temple and mellow skin, sweet golden baked pastries.

damn wooyoung needs to eat something. he keeps thinking of people and things in terms of edibility. he half wanted to munch on his handkerchief just hours before. snack, whenever he gets back, and a lot of it.

“ah,” hard pressed eyes, really deep brown - almost black, squeeze into a pleasant line of smile at him - can a person smile with their eyes? he’s not sure, but this one is doing it, and doing it brilliantly.

he has some eyes. he’s literally never seen anyone with those eyes before. surely yeosang can do something, like scan security footages with matching eyes or something.

eyes are really not much to go on for, but look, he scraped himself a crumb, at the cost of nearly dislocating his arm. he should get some brownie points for that.

“i guess you already ripped the hint away from me,” the eyes, animated and lively, squeeze themselves into two crescents of pleased surprise. wooyoung can take comfort in not being sniped in the chest by this guy, but, once again, he still thinks there are guns hidden somewhere in that ridiculous billowing coat and the stupid cowboy hat. he himself had hidden twenty guns and fifteen knives in his suit before, and it was a semi-casual suit. it’s not that hard with weapons nowadays. 

“what a damn shame,” he drawls right back, vicious and petty, just like who he is, deep down, when he loses at a game. “i was going to beg, but,” he shrugs, half checking on his shoulder, half flexing on this guy. one all, bastard. your move.

“but you are above that, i am aware,” the eyes mirror the amused tone the voice puts out, flashing brief caramel under wooyoung’s chloroform gassed up head. “it wouldn’t be a fun game if one of us has the upper hand perpetually.”

those are really pretty eyes, and under different circumstances, outside of his job, when he’s just jung wooyoung, international politics graduate, dance enthusiast, not WY, elite spy master, then maybe he could’ve gone for it. 

not now, not here. they’ve started on a bad foot already. he doesn’t know what he might do if they do encounter each other, mask completely stripped off from each other. 

“yeah, gotta keep my standards high, my guys lower,” he winks, trying to wriggle his way out of his hold. “what are you going to do with that intel?”

a gloved hand taps the inner lining of his coat, an eye blinking into a wink. 

“sell it.”

wooyoung breathes out harshly. of course he would. 

“of course you would,” he rolls his eyes. “and i was just a little bit later and less experienced in coming up against you.”

“i wouldn’t say you’re less experienced,” the man twirls a long finger, gloved, completely black. “just a little unprepared. i had the element of surprise on my end this time. next time, well,” he leaves that hanging, stopping right in front of wooyoung. “it’s fair game.”

“i don’t know how long you’ve been playing on this field for, but there is no such thing as fair game,” he hooks a finger into his stun gun, drawing it out, pointing point blank, between the nice eyebrows and expressive eyes. “it would only hurt a little.”

“you never cease to surprise me, wooyoung,” is all he gets, before the mask is tugged down, a line of a hooked nose ridge, before a shower of smoke, and the complete disappearance of a master ghost spy.

okay. okay hongjoong and yeosang would not be happy with this. 

nobody should know wooyoung’s name. how did this one know?

part 2! 

[lovesanmotion]

ateez reacts: their crush is a police officer

💌 This is: Requested

Taglist: @yunhobabygurl

Hongjoong:

Hongjoong is very much curious to find out what his s/o does for a living as his s/o never mentioned or talks about it. But from what he does know is that, you work from 5pm - 3am for five consecutive days with two days off and your workplace is situated in the red light district of the city. Furthermore, he did recall seeing silver cuffs in your bedroom. Putting two and two together, Hongjoong thought what if you were a stripper-

"You seem to be lost in thought? I always told you to be a little easy on yourself." Eden says as he enters the studio room, sitting down on the swivel chair before taking the headset in his hands.

"I'm really curious as to what y/n does. Do you have any idea?" Hongjoong finally spoke up his curious as he lets his back fall back on the swivel chair, slowly swinging himself from left to right.

"Police officer." Hongjoong stops and stares at him for a moment.

"How come you know but I don't?" He frowns to himself. But Eden only lets out a chuckle.

"Y/N still isn't comfortable talking about it. Especially what they deal with when the clock strikes midnight."

Seonghwa:

When Seonghwa came home one night, he found you playing with a weird looking stick that you kept swinging forward, letting it expand before you.

"What is that?" He asks, removing his shoes in the door before coming up to you to place a kiss on your cheek.

"It's an expandable baton! The director says I have to keep practicing and do good with my aim." You spoke happily to him. Seonghwa never had a clue with what you do day to day. But with what you've just told him, he thought you were a screen actor with an upcoming role in a series or film. And the following day during practice, Seonghwa finally told the boys what you do. However, he was only met with laughter as a response.

"What- was something I said funny?" He furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to the other side.

"Hyung, look over here" Wooyoung says, drawing the curtains slightly, pointing out at something. To his curiosity, Seonghwa follows where Wooyoung was pointing and there you were, walking with a few other police officers in your uniform.

Yunho:

"Why are you wearing a police officer uniform? Do you model costumes?" Yunho chuckles as he watches you admiring your new fitted uniform.

"You must be a model. You always look at yourself in the mirror and you're always worrying about your appearance." Yunho beams. "But personally, I wouldn't care how you look like. I'd still love you even if you became a worm!" Yunho chuckles once more, earning a slap in the arm from you.

The following day when Yunho was out with Mingi, there was a police car stationed with only one person sitting inside behind the steering wheel. But as his eyes squinted on the windows, there was no denying that it was you instead.

"Y/N?"

Yeosang:

His schedule for today is a public schedule, and as it is public, thousands of fans would surely be swarming around them in the airport. He was squished, pushed aside in the shoulder and had cameras really up close to his face. But Yeosang paid no attention to them and kept a straight face. His mind was somewhere else, more specifically, on what you do for a living.

He tried to make out different jobs that suited your interest. But nothing seems to fit. Until a familiar figure came to his rescue and gave him a few space to walk amidst of the crowd forming around them. It was you who gave him space to walk to towards the immigrations gates.

San:

"Y/N please tell me!" San whined as he wraps his arms tightly around your waist. His curiosity to find out what you do is killing him, he direly wanted to know, however, you always tell him-

"Sannie, I'll tell you when I feel comfortable telling you what I do in life." You smiled at him, placed a kiss on his forehead and headed out because your shift time is about to start.

All alone, San decided to bother the other members to talk to him. The others were busy, but Wooyoung spared him some time.

"I just wanted to know what Y/N does! I don't think-" but he was cut off by Wooyoung shortly.

"If I tell you, please pretend to be shocked or surprised when Y/N actually tells you what they do. You got that?" Obediently, San nods his head, humming.

"Y/N's a police officer in the city proper. Y/N didn't tell me but I only found out about it while I was still out late the other night."

Mingi:

"Y/N is so cute and so precious" Mingi sighs dreamily as he stares at the pictures of Y/N that he has on his phone. "but why can't I know what Y/N actually does for a living?" His voice suddenly boomed, making seven heads turn to his direction.

"I always see Y/N going out late at night and heading to a corner" Jongho started, facing Wooyoung before winking at him to get the idea.

"Right?! I even saw Y/N talking sweetly to a police officer! I'm sorry hyung, I think Y/N likes people in the professional setting." Jongho and Wooyoung started to chuckle before a glaring Seonghwa turns to them, immediately shutting them up.

"If it makes you happy, Y/N works in a police station. I heard she's getting transferred to the station near the company building." Hongjoong says. All five mouths lets out a chorus of "Oh", however, Yeosang had his eyes widened. "Y/N clearly didn't want Mingi to find out but we snitched on Y/N."

Wooyoung:

"Do you think Y/N is cheating on me?" He suddenly asks. Yeosang who was sitting beside him finally turned to face him. "What makes you think so?"

Wooyoung took a seat beside him, head hung low. "Y/N always leaves their place at ungodly hours and returns the following day when the sun is up." Wooyoung sighs. But Yeosang only chuckles.

"Your eight year friend is in pain and struggling and you only laugh at me?" Wooyoung stares at Yeosang who suddenly stopped laughing.

"Y/N isn't cheating on you. They work in those hours as an officer in the city next to us." Yeosang chuckles before covering his mouth with his hand. "I should not have said that."

Jongho:

"Are you a call center agent?" "No"

"How about a nurse who works in the graveyard shift?" "Oh my god no I wouldn't be able to stand it"

"Then, what do you do?"

Jongho juts his lower lip out and then proceeds to make a cute face.

"You acting cute won't get you anymore. I have to go now too. See you tomorrow." You smiled and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. But Jongho didn't stop there. After three minutes, he followed you outside and kept a good distance from you before seeing you get inside the police car parked in the corner of their street.

[cocobeanncteez]

ATEEZ San- Confessions (oneshot)

Genre: Angst, fluff, suggestive, high school au, enemies to lovers au.

Pairing: San x Reader (fem)

Warnings: profanities, alcohol.

On a scale of one to ten, you'd rate your life at your prestigious boarding school a nine.

You loved KQ Academy: a boarding school for the rich, spoiled brats of the country. The teachers were highly experienced and the other staff were really nice. The cafeteria food was great and the vending machines always had your favorite drinks. The bathrooms were clean and the classrooms, laboratories, and other activity rooms were large and spacious. There were three different sports fields, a large swimming pool, and a large athletics field. The dormitories were also really comfortable and overall impressive. Basically, your school was lit.

So why did you rate your great life here a nine? Two words: Choi San.

San was the only person here who got on your nerves. Not only was he a rich, spoiled brat, but he was also the most popular guy at school and the captain of the volleyball team. His pretty face screamed of nothing but trouble... for you.

You don't understand why San doesn't like you; ever since he joined your school in ninth grade, you both never got along despite being in the same friend group. Your friends tried their best to make you both decently talk to each other, but they gave up eventually when it clearly wasn't working; you both always argued about the smallest, stupidest things.

"Should I get another piercing?" Hongjoong asked, opening his strawberry yogurt.

"Where?" Yunho questioned. "Please, not on your ear! Let the poor thing breathe!" You chuckled, glancing at the many piercings on your twin brother's ears.

"I swear Hongjoong hyung is a masochist," Yeosang stated, making Mingi and Wooyoung burst out laughing.

"And he likes exhibitionism," Seonghwa said. Hongjoong rolled his eyes, quietly eating his yogurt; he was used to everyone teasing him.

"Hey guys!" you heard Choi San greet before he took his usual seat beside Wooyoung. You glanced at him, immediately noticing his disheveled hair and swollen lips.

"Oh god, San, who was it now?" Eunhee, Hongjoong's girlfriend, questioned.

"Na Yuri," San said with a smirk. "She took me behind the auditorium. There were no cameras there." You heard Jiwoo mumble a 'not surprise' from beside you, making you chuckle.

"And you managed to get off in less than five minutes?" Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow.

San fake gasped in shock. "What! Wooyoung, you know I don't fuck these girls. I've only made out with them."

"What, really?" Jongho asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I haven't slept with anyone other than my ex, Jina," San said, taking a bite of Yeosang's ice cream sandwich, earning a glare from the boy. You were quite surprised at this new information; the entire school thought San fucked a new chick every week. You wondered why he never said anything about it despite all the false claims.

"Y/N," you heard someone call you, catching all your friends' attention. You saw Kim Yonghee approach you with the sweetest smile on his face. He handed you your notebook that you had given him two days ago. "Thank you so much. Your notes really helped."

"You aced your test?"

He smirked. "Of course." He opened his mouth to say something, but one of his friends called him for football practice. "Well, I'll see you in math," he said with a wink before walking away.

"Oh, someone's blushing!" Eunhee teased.

Yunho chuckled. "Wow, Y/N, I wonder what's got you all pink."

"Yonghee is so fucking cute! I kinda want to date him," you squealed, earning a scoff from an unamused San. Yeosang raised an eyebrow at San who only shrugged. "Do you have an issue, San?" you asked, annoyed by his reaction.

"No, why would I?"

"Well, your reaction doesn't seem like it."

"Why would I care about you and that piece of shit?" he spat, looking away.

"You don't even know him!" your voice was raising.

"Here we go again," Yeosang muttered under his breath.

San glared at you. "As if you know about the way he screws around with—"

"So what? I'd rather be with someone like him than with someone like you," you stated in a cold tone. San's face fell, but he immediately put his pokerface on.

Seonghwa sighed. "Can you two stop fighting for once?"

"It's his fault," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"No, it's yours," San retorted. "You could've ignored me."

You were about to say something, but the bell rang. You glared at San before dragging Wooyoung and Mingi with you to your next class.

A month later, you ended up in an FWB relationship with Kim Yonghee. So far, things were going really well.

You were at Seonghwa and Hongjoong's dorm with everyone. You noticed how San has been really quiet and sulky these past few days. Despite always arguing with him, you felt worried for him. You wanted to ask him if he was all right, but you knew he'd just roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment.

You nudged Yunho who was sitting beside you. "Is San all right?" you whispered in his ear.

Yunho shook his head. "No, he's not okay. I don't know what happened, and he said he doesn't want to talk about it." You nodded, but you felt like Yunho was lying to you.

"Y/N, how are things going on between you and Yonghee?" Mingi asked.

"Good," you answered with a smile. "He's an absolute gentleman."

"Yeah, I could tell from last night," Eunhee teased, making you choke on nothing in particular, wondering how she found out about you sneaking Yonghee into your suite style dorm. "You're not as sneaky as you think you are, Y/N."

San slammed his can of sprite on the table, startling a few of you. "Sorry, I'm a little tired," he mumbled. "Yunho, I'm going to our room. I'll see you all tomorrow." You noticed Wooyoung and Seonghwa share a glance before Seonghwa nodded.

"I'm heading back as well. Good night guys," Seonghwa said, quickly getting up and following San. There was clearly something up with San and you really wanted to find out.

-

While you were having lunch with your friends, Yonghee came to your table. He kissed you gently, earning an 'aww' from Eunhee and Jiwoo.

"Hey, hey, hey, no kissing in front of her older brother," Hongjoong said sternly. You rolled your eyes; he was only older by eight minutes.

"Sorry, man," Yonghee chuckled. "Here," he handed you a few sheets. "Seunghun told me to give this to you. It's his part of the assignment you both are working on. He said you can arrange it however you'd like."

"Ah, tell him I said thanks," you said.

"Will do, doll." he kissed your head before leaving.

San witnessed the entire scene and he lost his appetite. He pushed his food around with his spoon, feeling heartbroken.

"Step up your game, bro," Mingi said to San in a low tone so that the others couldn't hear.

"What do you mean?" San questioned.

Mingi rolled his eyes. "We all know you like Y/N. Don't give her up easily."

"Well, she likes Yonghee."

"They're only friends with benefits," Hongjoong said, joining the conversation. "They're just fooling around. I know it might seem like she has feelings for him, but trust me, she doesn't."

San bit his lip anxiously. "But she hates me."

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. "I know my sister well enough to say that she doesn't hate you, Sannie. In fact, she was really hurt 'cause she thinks you hate her. You both should really stop fighting and assuming shit."

"She doesn't hate me?" San asked in surprise.

"No, she doesn't, you idiot," Mingi muttered with a sigh. "Now step up your game, San, before someone else sweeps her off her feet."

You were watching the volleyball team practice for an upcoming inter-school match. San and Yeosang were on the team, so your entire group was here as well, watching them practice 'cause there was nothing else to do.

You had to admit, San was a great captain. He was so sweet to them and hyped them up every time they did well. It was even more fascinating to watch him play. When the team decided to take a break, he approached you, taking his water bottle from where you were sitting.

You couldn't help but check him out in the team uniform. The blue tank top and shorts exposed the muscles on his arms and thighs. He titled his head back, pouring the water into his mouth. You watched his Adam's apple bob with every gulp, and the way a few drops of water rolled down his lips and chin. His jawline looked sharper, and you saw a bead of sweat travelling down the side of his face. San looked undeniably attractive, especially with his new eyebrow piercing and dyed black hair; he already looked so good with his previous brown hair, and now he looked irresistible.

"Y/N, I asked you something," San said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry, what were you saying?" you hoped he didn't notice you checking him out. San and you have surprisingly not had any fights recently, and he wasn't making any comments to piss you off either. You wondered why he suddenly changed his behavior towards you after years of getting on your nerves.

He smirked, pointing to his little red bag. "Could you open my bag and give me the green towel?" You did as he said, unkowingly blushing. San noticed everything, but he didn't say anything about it yet. He wiped the sweat off his face with the towel, suddenly leaning in close to your face. Your eyes darted between his eyes and his lips, and your heartbeat sped up. San reached behind you to take his bag, shoving the towel and his water bottle inside. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, mentally reminding yourself to get your shit together. You glanced at your friends, relieved that they were too busy talking to notice the little scene between you and San; you knew they would tease the shit out of you if they saw what happened.

"Y/N," Yeosang called out. "You're coming for the party tomorrow night, no?"

"Of course," you said, a little confused as to why he suddenly asked. "Jiwoo would kill me if I missed it."

Jiwoo turned her head at the mention of her name. "Damn right, I would," she said with a nod.

Yeosang smirked. "You're coming in my car."

-

"I have to sit on San's lap?!" you half-yelled at Yeosang.

"Yeah, Yunho is sitting in the front with the Pegasus glass figurine he got for Jiwoo. The painting I got is in the backseat, and our bags are in the trunk. So you don't have a choice."

You bit your lip. "Fine."

You waited outside the car until San and Yunho came from their dorm. You wondered why San wasn't surprised when you told him you had to sit on his lap, but you brushed it off, assuming Yeosang would've told him earlier.

San was dressed in all black: ripped jeans, a leather jacket and a black t-shirt underneath it. You sat on his lap, closing the car door. He looked irresistible and his Chanel perfume made him smell so good, you didn't know how you'd survive the half an hour long car ride to Jiwoo's mansion without him noticing you inhaling his scent like air.

San gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him so that you could sit comfortably. Yeosang started driving and you hoped time would go really fast.

Unfortunately, time seemed to be going really slow for you.

San pushed your hair to one side, making you lean back a little so that your back was pressed against his chest. "Sit comfortably, I don't bite," he whispered in your ear.

Yunho was talking about something, but you paid no attention. The only thing you could focus on was San's beautiful voice and laughs while you blankly stared out the window.

San noticed you weren't paying attention. He leaned forward a little, his lips coming in contact with the bare skin of your shoulder, making goosebumps arise on your skin. "Are you cold?" San teased when he saw the goosebumps on your bare thighs; you cursed yourself for wearing a short off-shoulder dress.

"Yeah, I am," you lied. San rubbed his palms together before placing them on your thighs. You gasped softly at his warm touch. He gently rubbed your thighs, trying to warm you up like as if he didn't know why you got goosebumps in the first place.

"We're here, guys," Yeosang announced, pulling up into Jiwoo's mansion that was lit up with a lot of LED lights.

You quickly got out of the car once Yeosang parked, running to hug Jiwoo.

"Happy eighteenth, Jiwoo!"

She chuckled. "Thank you, Y/N!"

"I can't wait to see you drunk!" you said with a giggle, excited that your friend could finally drink. She playfully rolled her eyes, dragging you inside to where half your school was while she told you which room you would be staying in. You were sure there were nearly two hundred people here, but you weren't surprised; Jiwoo's birthday parties were always like this.

"By the way, you're sharing a room with San tonight," Jiwoo said.

Your eyes widened. "What?! Why? Wasn't I supposed to be sleeping in your room?"

"Yeah," she said. "But, um... Yunho might be there and I don't think you'd want to witness us—"

"Okay, okay!" you half-yelled. "Why can't I sleep in Eunhee's room?"

"Ask Hongjoong if he's willing to switch with you," she chuckled and you groaned, knowing very well your twin brother would rather sleep next to his girlfriend than next to his friend.

But maybe he would agree? After all, he's quite protective of you and he wouldn't let you sleep next to a guy.

"Absolutely not," Hongjoong replied when you asked him to switch places with you.

"Joong! How can you let your baby sister sleep with a guy?" you whined.

He shrugged. "I trust San more than any other guy here. Besides, I need some privacy with my girl, you know? The dorms aren't a very great place to—"

You slammed your palm over his mouth, shutting him up. "I get it! I'll just deal with it."

You walked over to the bar, getting a whiskey and coke. You didn't have an issue with sleeping next to San; you just didn't know how you'd control yourself around him, especially after what happened hardly an hour ago.

After Jiwoo cut her huge birthday cake and popped a bottle of Champagne, some people from your grade sat down in one of the rooms to play truth or dare. Wooyoung and Mingi literally begged you to play and of course, you couldn't refuse.

"All right, I'm gonna spin it," Jongho said, spinning an empty beer bottle. It landed on Yeosang. "Truth or dare, hyung?" Jongho asked.

"Truth," he answered.

"I got one!" Seonghwa said, turning to smirk at Yeosang. "Do you like a certain Japanese girl who's in your economics class?" You chuckled, glancing at the Japanese girl who was sitting right across Yeosang.

Yeosang smirked. "Of course I like my girlfriend." Your jaw dropped and so did many other's. You glanced at Mayumi who was clearly blushing; she reminded you so much of Yeosang.

"Kang Yeosang! You sly shit!" Wooyoung yelled, playfully tackling his friend to the ground.

"I knew something was happening between them!" Hongjoong stated with a laugh, making Mayumi turn pinker than she already was.

After a few more rounds, some people left, making the circle of people smaller. Eunhee spun the bottle and it landed on herself.

"Truth or dare?" Mingi asked.

"Truth."

"Is Hongjoong hyung a dom or a sub?" Mingi asked with a smirk.

"Both, but mostly a dom," she answered, unbothered.

"I'm not even surprised," Wooyoung said before spinning the bottle. It landed on you.

"Truth or dare, Y/N?" Wooyoung asked, a smile dancing on his lips.

"I'll go with dare."

Wooyoung grinned mischievously. "I dare you to . . . give San a hickey." You choked on nothing in particular.

"In front of you all?"

"Obviously not!" Hongjoong said in disgust. "I'd rather not witness that."

Your friends cheered for you when you got up and dragged San along with you to the room you both had to share tonight. Your heart raced with every step you took, and when he closed the door, the only sound you could hear was your pounding heartbeat.

San removed his shoes before sitting on the middle of the bed. You took off your heels, getting on the bed as well.

"Where do you want it?" you asked, avoiding eye-contact.

"Below my collarbone or here," he pointed to an area of the left side of his neck. You decided to give it on his neck because you've never given a collarbone hickey, so you didn't want to screw it up and embarrass yourself in front of the man who was currently driving you crazy.

San sat against the headboard of the bed, letting you straddle his lap. You placed a hand at his nape and the other at his shoulder, leaning in to place your lips on his neck. You gently brushed your lips against his skin before kissing around the area for a while. Your hand at his nape moved into his hair, tugging on it. San groaned softly, hands gripping your waist while he tilted his head to give you more access. You started to suck on his skin, making sure you bit him gently and gave him a few little licks. San's hands pushed you down on his growing bulge, making you moan against his skin. You pulled away from his neck, eyes instantly locking with his. You glanced between his eyes and his lips, unknowingly biting your own. San freed your bottom lip with his thumb, running it over your lip.

"I'd like to bite that lip," San said in a low tone. You couldn't control yourself anymore. You crashed your lips onto his and he responded just as eagerly as you. San took your bottom lip in between his teeth, gently pulling and biting on it, making you moan. He smirked, pulling away. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this."

"Don't you hate me?" you asked, shocked by his little confession.

San flipped you onto your back, hovering over you. He pressed his bulge against you. "What do you think?" he whispered, making you blush. "Y/N, you drive me absolutely crazy. I've liked you ever since ninth grade." Your eyes widened; he has liked you ever since he joined your school?!

"But— Then why were you always fighting with me?" you couldn't help but ask, even though right now wasn't a very... appropriate time.

"Remember how I was back then? I was so nerdy and you liked guys who were the complete opposite of that," he said, cupping your cheek. "No matter how hard I tried to get you to like someone like me, it just never worked. You always liked seniors and dated playboys. And then when I started screwing around, you still didn't like me. I guess... I guess that's why I fought with you a lot and it got worse over the years."

"San, you were perfect," you murmured. "I always thought you were way too good for me, that's why I never really bothered." you ran your hand through his hair. "I'm sorry for making you change yourself..."

San shook his head, lying beside you on the bed. "It's not your fault. I was fifteen and stupid, Y/N. Besides, I'm used to being like this now." You bit your lip, not knowing what to say. "Y/N, I hated seeing you with Yonghee. I know you guys aren't dating, but the thought of you with him or with anyone else... I really hate it," he looked like he wanted to say something, but he was hesitating a lot. You cupped his cheek, giving him an encouraging smile.

San took a deep breath. "Um, Y/N, do you... feel the same way about me?" You immediately kissed him as an answer, making him blush and sigh in relief.

"Well, my dare is complete," you murmured, fingers running over the hickey you had given him. You leaned in, placing a soft kiss on it. "How about we continue from where we left off?" you whispered in his ear.

San smirked, pulling you close to his body by your waist. "Mhmm, I'd like that."

[treasure-hwa]

as stubborn as you

pairing: seonghwa x female reader

genre: fluff, comedy, a tentative of enemies to lovers

synopsis: it's been a long way since they were kids and best friends. They consider themselves arch-enemies, but are they really?

word count: 4528

author's note: I took TOO LONG to write this one, I know! But it’s here and it’s here on this precious star’s birthday!!! I hope you all enjoy reading this. By the way, yes, I changed the story from “pocky challenge” to “pepero challenge”.

taglist: @winterviolet1 @multidreams-and-desires @ateezinmymind @devil-mp3 @little-precious-baby @hwaddict @trinityhasjams @hwa-luvs because when I did my little survey on what should I write, you voted for Hwa <3 @suni-ho

The doorbell rang and, from the bathroom, you heard your brother yelling for you to get the door. You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath, preparing yourself to see that boy's face and try not to punch it. As you opened the door, a body crashed on yours and you didn't even need to see the face to see who it was.

— Wooyoung!

— Babe!

He kissed your cheek and moved away so the other boys could greet you too, but the last one barely looked at you, he seemed displeased to see you there, as if you didn't have the right to be at your own house. It was enough to see him at school, but in your house too?

Who is he, the reader must be asking. He was Park Seonghwa, your arch-enemy. How does one become an arch-enemy? Easy. Park Seonghwa was incredibly annoying and too perfect at everything he did, which was a lot. Class president, student council, volleyball and soccer player and dancer. To top it all, unfortunately, he was your younger brother's best friend and a member of your friend group, so you saw each other too often.

Didn't Yeosang, your brother, know how much you disliked his friend? You both were constantly picking on each other, everything the other said was a reason to eye rolls and scoffs. Quite annoying and immature of you two, the group friend thought, even if they were used by that now.

— Hi, guys, — Yeosang came out of the bathroom, sat on the couch beside Hongjoong and looked at you and his older friend on the door. — Are you two gonna spend the whole afternoon there?

Seonghwa smirked and let out the first teasing of the day:

— I know I’m a very important person, but you don’t need to wait for me to get in and sit to do the same.

You breathed deeply and pushed the door close, almost slamming it.

— Anyways… what are we doing today?

— I brought my new dancing game! — Yunho exclaimed and took the game out of his backpack. — Who wants to play it?

Everybody raised their hands and started asking if they could dance to certain songs, and to your surprise, Seonghwa said the same song you did, and it only fueled him to win over you, because that was one of his favorite songs, he had to be better. Everybody was shocked that you two had at least one thing in common.

— You dance? Since when? I thought your motor coordination was super bad — Seonghwa teased, raising an eyebrow.

— For your information, yes, I do dance and I am very good at it, thank you.

— Up for a challenge?

You two glared at each other, if you were a cartoon, there would be fire on your eyes. Most of the time, your group friend would hate your competitiveness, but it could be fun right now, so they rushed you to get up and Yunho put on the dance game.

It was a girl group song, in which you knew he was amazing at dancing, just as perfect as he was on all the other things he did, but even knowing that, you had to do better, so both put heart and soul on the performance, moving bodies exactly like the figure on the TV was doing.

By the end of the dance, you were panting, sweating and collapsed on the floor. Wooyoung quickly jumped over Seonghwa's body to sit behind you and put your head on his lap, complimenting your dance skills.

— Was it worth it? Did you have fun? — Jongho asked, looking at you, not amused at all.

— Of course… it was. I was… better — Seonghwa spoke between inhaling and exhaling air.

— You weren’t! I was!

— Ha! As if! I am the best.

— Listen here, Park...

— Here we go again. 

— Mom, mom!

— In the backyard!

Seven-year-old you had just arrived from school, your dad went to pick you up, while your mother went to pick your younger brother from his school. You ran to the backyard just to be greeted with a tight hug from a slightly smaller boy, that was not Yeosang, still in his school uniform.

— Noona!

— Wooyoung! — You laughed and hugged your brother’s best friend back. — I’ll play with you and Yeosang in a second, okay?

He nodded and went back to the other boy playing ball. You went to your mother and told her:

— Mom, I need to do a project in a group with two boys.

— Really? And are they your friends?

— No. — You pouted. — I don’t know them well.

— There is no problem, sweetheart, ask them for their phone numbers and I’ll call their parents to invite them over so you can work on the project. Does that sound good?

— Yes, mom, thanks!

Then, you ran towards the two six-year-old boys running, playing a weird kind of two-people tag.

In the same week, your mother called the boys' parents and scheduled a day for them to come to your house. When they arrived, you smiled big and welcomed them, they were Hongjoong and Seonghwa.

After some minutes of talking, you noticed Hongjoong talked more and had a nice colorful backpack, which he proudly showed saying his mom had painted it for him. Excited, you told him he should be the group leader since he looked confident in everything. Seonghwa was quieter, but heard and looked at everything attentively, so he agreed with you. Even if he was older, Hongjoong sounded more suited for the position.

When you were doing the project, colouring and writing, a loud voice and quick footsteps were heard, coming closer to the living room, where the three of you were. The voice owner was Wooyoung, who came to play with Yeosang again, however he changed his path to see you first and didn't like seeing another guy so close to you, looking at what you were writing and speaking quietly to not disturb anyone.

— Noona! Who is he?

— Oh, hi, Woo! They are my friends, Hongjoong — you pointed to the boy across you with the mullet, — and Seonghwa — you pointed to the boy beside you, wearing a red hoodie. — We are doing school stuff.

The boys waved to the younger one.

— I didn't know you had a brother — Seonghwa said.

— I do, but it isn't him, Woo is my brother's best friend. I can introduce you to Yeosang later.

And you did when it was break time. Your mother prepared snacks for the five kids and called all of you to sit at the dinner table, where your friends met your brother and they instantly clicked, though Yeosang was a little shy around strangers.

— Wooyoung! Don’t make a mess — you warned him and cleaned his cheek.

— Sorry~

Seonghwa and Wooyoung weren't the best of the friends right from the start and they still had little fights over the years, but you never understood them. Their friendship definitely grew though.

That was the beginning of the group, when you and Seonghwa were super friends. The others just came along the way.

The restaurant table was large enough for the nine of you, having a booth around its three sides, however Wooyoung insisted on coming closer to you, which didn’t make you uncomfortable at all. You had discussed it before, your feelings hadn't changed since you were little kids, you would always be best friends, you would be his noona and he would be your dongsaeng. The flirt and teasing was just for comedy. He was just a super sweet person who had to give love to who he loved the most, and you accepted his love because it was him.

— Wooyoung, we can't just drown ourselves in this gigantic glass of soda! You are crazy if you think I'm swallowing all this in seconds.

— You are just a coward.

— Hey, that's no way to talk to your noona! — You took the glass out of his hand, then held his face.

— Oh, shut up — he rolled his eyes fondly.

— Make me.

The moment was broken by an annoyed voice:

— Why don’t you two just get a freaking room? We don’t want to see your flirting.

You scoffed and diverted your eyes from Wooyoung, who was now grinning, and placed them on Seonghwa, who was sitting at the extremity of the booth, sipping his soda and looking out of the big window.

— Are you jealous, Seonghwa?

— Huh, you wish!

— Never in a million years. — You threw a saggy french fry on him, and the boy gave you a murderous look, ready to throw it back on you, but everybody stopped you two before things could get violent and you all were banned from the restaurant.

★━━━━━━✩━━━━━━★

— I just can't stand him!

— Yet, you talk about him every time you get the chance — Yeosang spoke nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on his video-game.

— But I'm complaining about his behavior.

— You just hate that he is better than you in certain things — he mumbled back.

You inhaled deeply, remembering how your scores on that dance game were always close to his, but never better.

— It's not that… he just annoys me.

Yeosang was right, but you would never agree outloud. When you were thirteen, Seonghwa started being the best student of the class, the best boy of the school, the most talented, everybody loved him. You were just there, beside him, even if you were a great student too, nobody really paid attention to you.

It came a time where not even Seonghwa would pay attention to you. He would hang out with his new friends, with Hongjoong, with the group, but only when you weren’t with them. He talked to you just the bare minimum and it hurted that it seemed like the “fame”  he had in school got to his head. Seonghwa wasn’t the same quiet boy you had met when you were seven, so you decided to not be the excited girl you were back then with him.

★━━━━━━✩━━━━━━★

— But seriously, when will Wooyoung just ask her out? It's getting annoying how he never makes a real move.

Hongjoong paid attention to what his friend was talking even if he was choosing new clothes, but the boy didn't believe what he had just heard.

— What are you even talking about, Seonghwa? You know he doesn't like her like that. They are just super close friends.

— I don't know, something on those two just doesn't smell good.

— Yeah, that's your jealousy, because he is still her friend, but you are not. Now, let's go, I'll try this one.

Jealousy? Pff, please! The boy thought while he followed Hongjoong to the fitting room. Why would he be jealous? Just because you chose Wooyoung over him? It was no big deal, Wooyoung was your friend before he had showed up in your life. Sure it annoyed him when you all were younger that you kept meeting up with Wooyoung, when Wooyoung wasn’t present in the group because he was watching a movie with you, when Wooyoung was always hugging you out of nowhere... he may have distanced himself that time.

But it wasn’t jealousy, he convinced himself. Not now. He had nothing to be jealousy of if he didn’t even like you.

★━━━━━━✩━━━━━━★

Two weeks later, now at Jongho's house, you had a full studying day. While you, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were in the last year of high school, Yeosang, Yunho, Wooyoung, San and Mingi were in their second year and Jongho was alone in first year. He saw it as an opportunity to nag his hyungs and noona to help him. Needless to say, no one resisted him that long.

The studying session, however, was messy. Snacks crumbles were all over the place, covering books and the floor, San even dropped his chocolate milk on the table. You had a break time to eat something real, so Jongho and Yunho poured soda on glasses and everybody made their own sandwiches to their own likes. Later, you ate ice cream and had to hear a long discussion about mint choco ice cream between San and Hongjoong. You were about to scream, but Seonghwa took a napkin and pressed it against San’s mouth, saying “shut up! I don’t wanna hear any more words”. It worked.

After the studying was over, it was clean time. While you liked everything clean, you hated cleaning, so of course you didn't volunteer yourself. But, through a rock, paper, scissors game, it was decided that you and Seonghwa would do the dishes and clean the living room while Yeosang, Yunho and Hongjoong went to get real dinner. The others went to lay in the backyard and "breath fresh air since the weather is so nice".

— Do you think it is a good idea to let them together? They hate each other. — Yunho commented while Hongjoong started his old car.

— They really don't — Hongjoong answered. Yeosang agreed.

While that, you and Seonghwa were washing plates and throwing knives at each other. Not literally though. Not yet.

— Why are you so bad at rock, paper, scissors? — He teased. — You hate cleaning, should have done better.

— Me?! You were the one who played late and still lost! What did you even do that?

— Well, because I…

You didn’t let him finish, because your head was almost exploding, so you threw drops of water on his face, which soon expressed pure shock. Quickly, he wetted his hands and did the same to you.

— Are you a child?!

— Are you made of sugar?

So a water war started, leaving you both with humid hair and wet faces. It only ended because you slipped on droplets of water on the floor and he caught you before you could hit your head on the counter behind you. When he pulled you forward, you collided with his chest and was at a loss for words for some seconds.

— Are you alright?

You nodded slowly and got away from him when you heard the boys were coming back inside.

★━━━━━━✩━━━━━━★

When your birthday came, you were excited and welcomed all the boys and a few girl friends, who couldn't understand why you disliked Seonghwa that much. The boy was perfect and so nice with everyone. You would always roll your eyes with that. Anyways, they all gave you gifts and enjoyed the small party, one of them hoping to see a certain friend of yours. You would play cupid someday. 

Wooyoung entered your house jumping on you as always, kissing your cheek and screaming "happy birthday!". He was a cutie, but, one day, you would lose your hearing. Seonghwa came last and gave you a square shaped gift, not hugging you, just shaking your hand and offering a pause on the rivalry.

— It's your birthday, you should be happy and be better than me at least today.

You smiled, thanked him, but still squeezed his hand until he was saying sorry.

— Come on in, try not to be a pain in the ass. I know sometimes you can’t control it.

— You are it! Ah, nice outfit by the way.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes, taking his gift to your room, you would open all of them later. When you came back to your party, you saw one of your girl friends talking to Seonghwa and… laughing hard? What was wrong with her? He wasn’t even funny.

— Planning his murder again? — Hongjoong bumped his shoulder with yours, following your eyes to Seonghwa.

— What? No! I mean, yes. All the time.

— You can’t fool me, stop lying.

— I’m not lying. He’s here just because he is part of the group.

— You know… he has been talking to me about you.

— Has he? What did he say? — you answered eagerly.

The boy laughed and shook his head.

— I think he doesn’t like how Wooyoung is so close to you.

— Well, it sounds like a him problem — you mumbled. — We are just friends.

While you changed the topic and diverted your attention from the other boy, Seonghwa had excused himself from your friend and went to take a glass of soda. Yeosang followed his friend and asked if he had brought a gift.

— Of course I did. We may be arch-enemies, but it’s her birthday. I know how to be decent.

— And what did you give her? I hope it’s not a bomb.

— It isn’t. — He gave a small smile, but hid it behind his glass.

★━━━━━━✩━━━━━━★

When you were alone in your room, you opened the gifts you had received. They were all very nice, you loved them all, but Seonghwa’s probably got deeper to your heart. It was simple, nothing fancy, but held memories of when you were little kids.

— Hwa! You came!

— Of course I did! Is Wooyoung here? — He peeked inside your house. — It’s quiet.

— He is not. — You laughed. — Yeosang went to his house, so today is just me and you. And my mom, but me and you! Hongjoong couldn’t come, he had guitar lessons.

The boy nodded and widened his eyes before speaking again:

— My mom made cookies for us. I-I helped her. — He smiled and handed you a pretty pink container with chocolate cookies inside.

— Really?! That’s so cool! Thank you, Hwa.

That day, you sat around the living room center table, ate the delicious cookies that he insisted on not telling you the recipe, with crayons, colored pencils and paper scattered around you while you two drew and painted several things. You ended up drawing the two of you plus Hongjoong, to symbolize the best friends group formed two years ago in school, but, when you exchanged drawings at the end of the day, you noticed he had drawn only you and him eating cookies and hearts and flowers. It was pretty, so you kissed his cheek before he entered his car.

So, yes, when you saw the same pink container with the same special cookies — you have always loved them, but Seonghwa never told you the recipe — and the drawing you had made years ago inside the gift wrapping, your heart might have clenched and your eyes stung with tears. You kind of missed the old times.

★━━━━━━✩━━━━━━★

Joining the boys that night was an idiot choice. You realized that the moment Mingi suggested playing Truth or Dare. Why did he even suggest that? Everybody agreed excitedly, so it was a dead end, at least it wasn't like they would order you to kiss any of them.

But you were wrong. You were so wrong.

As the bottle spun and stopped at you and Yeosang, you knew he would have no mercy. He asked the question and, for some unknown reason, you answered dare. Maybe you would like to see what he had in mind.

Not good things, you concluded after he said "do the pepero game with Seonghwa". You and the boy choked on your own saliva, looking away for a moment. San took the candy out of its package and offered it to his friend.

— Seonghwa? No way. Step aside, I can do this for you — Wooyoung suggested, winking to you, making you smirk playfully.

— No. I’ll do it — the eldest spoke up, making your eyes widen.

Seonghwa took the chocolate stick from San's hand and placed one of the ends between his perfect teeth. Rolling your eyes, but sweating on the inside, you got closer and refused to touch him in any way, which he approved. You put the pepero in your mouth and when San said “start!”, both your and Seonghwa’s mouths got closer, going forward on the stick.

Nobody thought you two would really do it, they actually expected you to poke each other’s eyes with the candy at the moment Yeosang set the dare. But you loved a challenge, so maybe that was why you two were not stopping.  Seonghwa’s hand went to the side of your neck, thumb placed gently on your jaw, and, surprisingly, you said nothing, just kept getting closer and closer, dangerously close.

— Will they… — Jongho started, but did not finish as an impossible scene was happening in front of his eyes. — They are....

The dark chocolate pepero disappeared inside your mouths as they were glued together, sharing a rather steamy kiss. Your hands were entangled in his gray hair and your mind could only think “his hair is soft, his tongue is soft, his lips too and they are so skillful”.

You kept going until Yunho came back from the bathroom and yelled at surprise. At that moment, your minds seemed to clear from some kind of hypnosis and you pushed each other far. You exclaimed “who wants more soda?” and ran to the kitchen, while Seonghwa rested his back on the couch behind him and wiped his mouth with his shirt.

Yeosang went after his sister and the other six boys glared at Seonghwa with a confused look, demanding an explanation. In the kitchen, you downed glasses of water as if they were vodka shots.

— What are you doing?

— Taking his disgusting taste out of my mouth.

Your brother took your shoulders and turned you to him, looking deep in your eyes.

— Stop lying to yourself — he whisper-yelled to your face. — You like him, it’s okay!

— I don’t! It was just…

From the living room, you heard Mingi shouting:

— I can’t believe you really did the Pepero challenge with her! Isn't her your rival or something like that?

— Yes, of course. And? — Seonghwa answered, trying to sound nonchalant while fixing the strands you messed.

— Dude, you just kissed her instead of stopping eating the candy. You’re not rivals. — Yunho slapped his shoulder, as if he was comforting the friend.

— We are! I didn’t even like their kiss that much.

You couldn’t contain yourself, so you shouted back for him to listen:

— Oh, yes, Park Seonghwa, sure you didn’t like my kiss, but maybe you should tell that to your tongue. That was disgusting!

An ovation was heard from the boys and Seonghwa stomped to the kitchen, meeting you in the middle of the way.

— Disgusting, you say now, but your tongue sure didn’t mind when it joined mine. And your hands! They… They were all over my hair! — His fingers pushed his hair back and, once again, you thought how soft it was. — Stop staring!

After shaking your head, you noticed a faint blush on his cheeks and his eyes were restless, searching a safe spot to look at.

— But you held my neck first! You’re not any better.

— Do you two want a little… private time to discuss your feelings? — Yeosang tried, holding a laugh in, because, yes, it was very funny how you and Seonghwa tried to deny your feelings, when he knew this mutual hate was nothing more than masked desire bullshit.

— No! — both shouted together.

Before you run up the stairs to your bedroom, you stuttered and attacked:

— Your… your breath stink!

His eyes widened and of course he could not let you have the last word, let alone those words, so, yes, he followed you, shouting “it doesn’t!”. Your brother laughed at the way the boy’s cheeks were even redder and went back to the living room, offering to watch a movie to his other friends.

Seonghwa arrived at your room before you could close the door and held it with his foot.

— Go away, freak.

— No! Take it back.

— Take what back, Seonghwa? — you sighed, getting tired from the situation.

— My breath doesn’t stink. Take that back.

— I’ll need to check again.

All your movements ceased when you realized what you had said. The boy was still processing if he heard correctly. You left your spot by the door and threw yourself on the bed.

— Did you really say what I think you did?

— Depends. — Your voice came out muffled by the pillow. — What do you think you heard?

As the mattress dipped with additional weight, you shut your eyes, not wanting to look at him. You had basically confessed, right? Slowly, you sat up and kept your stare at your fingers, playing with them if they were the most interesting thing you had ever seen.

— I’m so-

— What are you waiting for then? Kiss me again and check it.

Your eyes widened and you turned your whole body to him. Seonghwa didn’t want to waste any more time, so he cupped a side of your face and leaned in to get your lips with his. The boy’s mouth was moving with yours slowly, tasting it the best he could and his breath definitely didn’t stink.

Going past the shock, your hands went up to his hair once again, caressing his nape and slightly pulling him closer to you, because it was the best kiss you have ever had — among three: your first one, the one that happened earlier that night and the present one —, but still wasn’t enough. Seonghwa’s kisses had plenty of the feelings that your first kiss with your pre-adolescence crush lacked, and you were already addicted. Call it whatever, but you secretly hoped he would kiss you forever.

This desire, however, couldn’t be fulfilled, because air was a thing and apparently you had to get it, but the kiss sure left you feeling on cloud nine.

— So… — he said low, his breath fanning over your wet lips. — Does my breath stink?

— Yeah… no. You’re free of this.

You opened your eyes slowly only to be met with a pair of big, round, shining eyes. The shining eyes you would always notice when you were kids.

— Hey, uhm… I know we are arch-enemies, but… — The boy scratched his neck, looking away from you. — What if we were arch-enemies with benefits?

You wanted to laugh and tease him, but the offer was interesting, so you asked more information about the concept.

— Like… we can hug, kiss, talk, maybe hang out together, but we still tease and compete with each other?

Reader must now be laughing at how silly the boy was, but he looked 100% serious and you gave it a thought before agreeing.

— If I get to kiss and tease you, it’s okay for me.

He chuckled and pulled you to another kiss, that didn’t last because you two were giggling and smiling too much.

— Can we hang out together soon? Just the two of us, I mean. — He caressed your cheek, noticing how it was warm.

— Like a date?

He stumbled on his own words, but nodded.

— Like a date.

— You are so whipped for me, Seonghwa.

— Shut up!

[paralumanniluna]

[8:54 PM]

It was another one of those business parties that your parents always hosted yearly and tonight’s color was red, your favorite color. Everything is so perfect since all the details are up to your liking, well why wouldn’t, this party is for you anyways, but your parents don’t have to know that you know about it.

Walking down the grand staircase, you felt all their gazes fall upon you followed by the blinding flashes of the camera. Who could blame them? You only show your face on important businesses and unfortunately for you, this is one of them.

A hand was stretch out in front of you when your freakishly high heels landed on the last step, a smile made its way on your features when you found its dimpled owner.

“Let’s go? You’ll be sitting with us.”

Grabbing his hand with delight you both maneuver your way to the crowd, smiling politely and nodding when needed.

“What the fuck Y/N? You look hot!”

Hongjoong, who choked on his wine, smack Jongho in the head and told him to watch his language since there are other people and cameras around. Pinching his cheek you muttered a soft ‘thank you’ and took your seat between San and Yunho. You roam your eyes around the table, smiling when it dawns to you that they’re wearing the uniformed velvet suit that you specially designed for them, and soon the table was filled with waves of laughter. Amidst the fun atmosphere, you felt a large hand squeeze your bare thigh softly.

“Yes, bub?” You asked Yunho, brushing the stray hair that fell from his forehead.

“Are you okay? And there’s no use in lying Y/N, I know you like the back of my hand.” you knew he was right, you grew up with him after all. Sighing, you twirl your wine glass, watching the red liquor swirl inside it.

“I really wish I’m okay right now and this is just the usual party that we attend yearly Yun.” Sipping your wine, you saw his parents and yours talking making your heart thump loudly in your chest. Maybe they’re just talking about business and not that, yeah maybe this is just a dream and you’ll w-

“Fancy party Y/F/N.” Fuck.

“Nice of you to finally join us Song Mingi.” You answered back matching his tone of arrogance. Snickers were heard around the table, knowing that the two of you will continuously get on each other’s nerves throughout the whole party. Snapping your finger, the waiter appeared beside you and poured your 4th glass of wine. Yunho looks at you worriedly, one more glass and you’ll break.

“Suits looks good on you Song, wonder who made that?” Raising your glass to your lips, you look him up and down, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. You heard San and Wooyoung ‘ohhh-ing’ beside you when you saw his face change into an irritated one.

“Everything looks good on me despite who made it.” He said scoffing at your comment and glaring at you. I’m fine with this.

“No offense Hyung, but this suit looks better than what you’re planning to wear,” Jongho said while wiping imaginary dust on his suit.

“Yah! Jiyeon made it o-of course it l-looks good.” The boys looked at him, seeing through his lie and definitely not liking the thought of coming to your party, wearing his girlfriend’s “greatest work”. But the boys knew how much she hates your guts to the point of making everything you do for them a competition.

“Yeah~ my trashcan seems to love it too.” snapping your fingers once again.

“You b-”

The sound of clapping and your father’s voice interrupted his snarky comment. Your mother sent a smile and a wink in your direction, laughing at her silly antics you wink back and raise your glass to her.

“Everybody looks so gorgeous this evening, but let’s be honest, no one can beat the beauty of my wife. Am I right?” Your father said wiggling his eyebrow while looking at your mother, sounds of laughter and “yes” were heard from the crowd.

You groan at the scene unfolding in front of you, but the boys seem to love it based on their smiling faces and laughter. Even he was smiling, eyes shining brightly, his pearly white teeth on full display, his whole face looked so genuinely happy and bright, oh how you wish he could look at you like that. Not the time to be a sappy bitch Y/N, keep it together.

Yunho seems to notice your nervous manner, the way your face looks calm and collected, but your tight grip on the glass and the way you clench and unclench your fist is enough for him to know.

“5th?” he asked defeatedly.

“I’m sorry bub. I still do.” her answer confused him, but then it occurred to him. You’re still in love with Song Mingi.

“Atiny Empire will expand its business in Japan with the Song Family.” You saw Mingi’s parents and his brother, Jiwon, walk up to the stage waving and smiling at the guests brightly.

You saw the boys gasp and looked at you with wide eyes, growing up in the business world like you. It's not that hard for them to put two and two together. But the way Mingi looked at you made you confused. Is your mind playing tricks on you? Is Song Mingi really smiling at you? Even Yunho was looking at him feeling the same state as you.

But the words that left his mouth next made you sigh defeatedly. Of course he doesn’t know.

“I pity Jiwon hyung because-” Oh how you want to slap him right then and there, “-If you were my wife, I would put poison in your coffee.” He said and that sweet smile you thought, was actually a smile enjoying your misery.

“That’s too much Mingi.” Seonghwa said glaring at the younger in disbelief of having the guts to piss you more in this kind of situation.

“It’s fine Hwa - ” you gave him a sweet smile and downed your fifth glass of wine in one go surprising them. You stood up, after you gave Yunho a look and patted his cheek softly, “ - but if you were my husband, I’ll drink it.”

“And we’re happy to announce the marriage of our star, Y/F/N, and their star-”

You wanted to laugh at how his face turn sour, eyes full of rage as you mouth the words your father was saying.

“-Song Mingi.”

[woosansang]

Not sure if you're still taking top 5 asks, but if you are top 5 San stage looks? And possibly the same with Wooyoung 👉🏼👈🏼 please?

i am ALWAYS taking opportunities to talk about my boys so please u are always free to ask random questions and make me question my existence over them sfhsjfksdjs

omg okay this is gonna be HARD. i've already done my fav wooyoung stage looks and my top 5 somehow became top 7 so hsfjkashdf i expect the same will happen here. that one was a while ago but it still stands apart from now the addition of That Green Hand Top from the tour.......... yeah.......

anyway SANNIE. this was really really difficult for some reason, i guess i dont think about his actual outfits in as much detail as i do woo and yeo shdfks bc i really had to hunt and look through my blog to find stages and be like Ah That One Is Very Good Yes rather than just.... knowing them all SBDFSBD

n e way in no particular order:

1. wonderland 191010 bc im a basic bitch im sorry. i love the long hair, the official uniform style outfits, his tiny fucking waist oh my GOD, the smokey liner what the FUCK i am just a human how could i not love this look and yes this particular screenshot was extremely necessary

2. fireworks san my beloved <3 there are a lot of fireworks looks i enjoy on him so to pick one is EXTREMELY difficult, but im going with a simple one that i think he wears a couple of times. it's the hairstyle that i also like, not the wet hair look that they gave him a lot during this era. he looks so good that it didnt even cross my mind until now that he doesnt even have his abs out like most of the fireworks outfits hsjakfhdjf he doesnt need to though, he still looks amazing <3 pink sannie....... beloved.....

3. inception san is also a favourite of mine and idk how to choose one look either hsjfkhsdjf but again i do prefer the hair pushed back off his face instead of straight and hanging over his forehead, so this red/white/black stage is definitely a fave in general

4. hanbok san inception stage. i couldnt pick just one inception are u kidding me. this stage is GORGEOUS i actually might gif something from it soon lol and he is gorgeous, the colours suit him so well, his hair looks amazing, for some reason i could not find a single good photo so have a shitty screenshot hjadhfs

5. answer inkigayo 200119 in all black with silver chains my god. ONCE AGAIN there are a lot of answer performanes where he looks really good that i could probably choose, even the comeback outfits were....... nice..... all black tight leather..... but i like the fluffier hair than the slicked back hair, but i'll show u both here so u know what im talking about.

bonus honourary mention: thanxx stages. also fun and he looks good, but it just hits different for me

second bonus honourary mention: literally every deja vu stage.... minus the hair OH MY GOD IDK IF IVE MENTIONED THIS MUCH BEFORE BUT I REALLY REALLY DISLIKED THE SHORT AF DEJA VU HAIR OMG HE LOOKED LIKE SPOCK SDHFJKHSDF and i disliked it so much that it kind of ruined a lot of the thirsting i could have possibly done over how The Rest Of Him looked in those performances especially given how woo and ESPECIALLY YEO looked, i was a little distracted anyway. but still. the inkigayo one is worth an honourary mention and just do urself a favour and look at all the photos from that day bc....... yep......

ask me my top 5 anything!

[hongism]

liquorice and ivories - k.hongjoong

➻ pairing: hongjoong x fem!reader ➻ wc: 16.5k ➻ genre: smut, tad angsty, fluff, e2l, pianist!hongjoong, pianist!reader ➻ rating: M, 18+ ➻ warnings: public sex, semi-public sex, explicit smut, oral sex: m & f, fingering, handjobs, choking, lowkey hate sex at first, sex on a piano, degradation, praise, marking, biting, multiple orgasms, cum swallowing, creampie, unprotected sex ➻ summary: you and hongjoong are competitors, of course. two people, one dream - there’s never room for two in this industry. neither of you care who you have to step on to get to the top.

​​​

Your fingers hit the ivories with a thud. The sound echoes through the practice room, reverberating against the walls and sending the sickeningly sweet sounds to the ears of all the people in the room. You sit back, satisfied with the performance, and glance over at your small audience. The professor is the first to clap, and he sends a small smile your way before standing up. Five of your classmates mimic his movements, but the sixth remains stony and cold, unmoving except for the slight curl of his lips that echoes his disgust with your performance.

Kim Hongjoong.

The two of you have never cared for each other; both are so competitive that you can’t stand to be around one another for more than five seconds. You are arrogant to a degree, but only because you think about how far you’ve come and how much you’ve developed over the years. Hongjoong, on the other hand, is just arrogant. There’s no need to beat around the bush and think harder about it. You’ve known the man for about two years now – you both joined the university at the same time and now are in your junior years together. Given the minimal size of your program though, it means that you have to share every single class with Hongjoong.

When you started your journey in the program, you didn’t notice Hongjoong. He’s a short-statured man – still taller than you yes, but small compared to your other male classmate – and he was relatively quiet during the first year of school. A fashionable student, even with the awkward uniform you’re all required to wear, but he always manages to style it in a way like no one else. Whether it’s a beret on his head or a sudden change of hair color, Hongjoong always adds a new flair to his outfits. Once he even had a mullet, which you had never seen before in person, but as much as you hate to admit it, it actually suited him quite nicely. Now, however, his hair is bright blue and parted right down the middle. His bangs frame his forehead, exposing just enough skin to entice, and if you didn’t hate his guts so much, you would understand why all the girls at this school want to get in his pants.

As you said, you didn’t notice him during your first year at university because he was so quiet and kept to himself. That all flipped during the second year though. Hongjoong became bold all of a sudden; the bright-eyed boy of freshman year was long gone and replaced by a cynical man who sought to tear everyone down. You became his primary target of attack. You weren’t sure why at first, but it became glaringly obvious once your professor admitted that you and Hongjoong were the top two students of your generation. It is a competition, in which you are his biggest competitor.

Exchanged insults, glares and scowls sent in each other’s direction, attempts to outdo one another in practices and recitals and competitions. You fight each other tooth and nail. Your professor seems totally unbothered by the hatred you bear for one another; he claims that it’s a healthy way to challenge each other, even though everyone knows that it is the opposite of healthy.

All that to say – you are not surprised in the slightest to see his disdain. Your professor on the other hand cannot stop grinning after your performance.

“Fantastic job, Y/N. Really stunning. I think you’re doing better than ever with this piece. I have no doubt that you can win the next competition if you continue practicing hard and performing at this level.”

You push the piano bench back just enough to step out, bowing to your professor at his kind words.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Mr. Kim, you’re up next.” Hongjoong stands as he’s called forward. The two of you pass without sparing so much as a glance in the other’s direction. You take his now empty seat, one leg crossing over the other as you lean against the back. Hongjoong sits on the bench, fiddling with the adjustments and distance from the keys a bit. “Remind me of your piece?”

“Chopin’s Nocturne, Opus 48, number 1.”

“Ah yes. Start whenever you’re ready.”

As soon as Hongjoong’s fingers hit the keys, you’re reminded of why you hate the man so much. It’s not because he’s arrogant and egotistical for no reason. No, he’s sickenly good at playing the piano. That infuriates you even more. If he was bad and full of ungodly rage, you might be able to rectify his attitude, but no. He’s the best pianist you’ve ever met, ever heard, better than some professionals that you’ve gone and seen in concert. He plays the piano as though it’s an extension of himself. The ivories are like his muscle and bone, he treats each one like it’s a part of him, and he knows how to recreate a piece of music in a way that is so authentically original yet completely his own. Yea, you fucking despise it.

Over the years, the biggest complaint you’ve received from teachers and judges is that you cannot properly express the music. You can play it perfectly, recreate the notes as they were written, and copy them to perfection. But that’s not what the judges or teachers want. They want you to be unique and diverse. They don’t want a perfect replica. They want you to take the piece of music and make it your own, create something flawless and make it even better by putting your own heart and soul into the notes. Hongjoong does that with such ease that he makes it look effortless.

This piece he plays now gives him the perfect playing ground to do that again. The way his fingers dance across the keys, a feather-light touch that brings the slightest notes out and the hard-hitting chords that resound in your ears. His performance is as flawless as ever, he has no trouble making the song his own. You hate it. The perfection under his fingers nearly makes you sick to your stomach because the player behind the keys is nothing but a self-righteous asshole.

You honestly want to smack some sense into Hongjoong, maybe rough him up a little and try to make him less of an asshole, but you doubt that would work. You settle for glaring at the side of his head throughout the performance, despising each perfect note he plays until he finishes the song. You return the favor of not clapping when he finishes the piece, six long minutes of torture, but everyone else in the room applauds his performance with fervor. He stands up and steps around the piano bench, bowing to the professor then turning to look right at you. A smug smile spreads across his lips. He knows how well he did, and he knows how much you enjoyed the piece. You don’t give him the pleasure of returning the glare any longer and glance away to stare at the floor instead.

“Fantastic job, Mr. Kim. Near perfection, I would say. Be sure to watch the tempo as you play. Otherwise, I have no advice for you.”

“Thank you, professor.” Hongjoong’s voice mimics the sickly sweet tone of his playing, a melodious sound that grates against your ears despite how pretty it is. He rubs at his wrists as he pulls away from the piano, and his expression is blank when you look back up at his face.

“Alright, that’s all for today. You all did well with your performances. Be sure to keep practicing. I’ll see you at the competition on Saturday. Watch your emails as I’ll be sending out information about the bus ride to the concert hall. Dismissed!”

You waste no time in standing up, snatching up the bag at your feet and slinging it over your shoulder without thinking twice. You’re out the door within seconds. It would be a wise idea to drop by a practice room and work on your piece some more seeing as there are only a few days left until the competition, but too much rage boils in your gut. You want nothing more than to go home and stew in fury on the couch while watching some awful drama. So, that’s exactly what you do.

The bus ride back to your apartment is quick and easy, as is the walk up the stairs to your room. When you step inside, a small black cat darts out from under the couch to greet you. You stoop down to scratch at his chin, cooing as he rubs against you with a happy purr.

“Hi, Victor. Did you have a good day?” The response you get is a quiet meow. “Yea, I had a good day up until practice. Fucking Kim Hongjoong.”

You step around the small cat to plop down on the couch, dropping your bag to the floor with a thud. Digging around in your pockets, you pull your phone out to find a littering of texts across the screen as well as two missed calls. With a sigh, you tap the screen to return the call, immediately greeted with a loud scream in your ear.

“Y/N!”

“Yea, hi, Woo. Why’d you call?”

“I can’t just call my best friend out of nowhere?”

“No, because you never call unless you want something,” you sigh into the receiver. Wooyoung replies with a dissatisfied click of his tongue.

“Wow, I see how it is. I get absolutely no respect. None! You hear that, Seonghwa? No respect!” You hear Wooyoung’s roommate hum quietly over the phone, and Wooyoung grumbles at his nonchalant response. “Anyways, you’re right. I called because I want something.”

“I fucking knew it.” You sit straight on the couch, elbows coming to rest against your knees. “What is it this time? Calculus homework? You know I’m not a math major…”

“No! No, if I wanted help with Calculus, I would just ask Hwa.”

“Okay, so what is it?”

“I’m having a party tonight and–”

“No.”

“You didn’t even hear me out!”

“The answer is no.”

“Come on, Y/N! You never go out!”

“I don’t want to.”

“It’s a chill party!”

“You say that every time then the cops get called and suddenly it’s no longer a ‘chill party’.”

“Okay, but this time it really is.”

“How so?”

“It’s small. Only seven or eight people are coming. Including you, maybe?”

“More always end up showing up, Woo.”

“Not this time. I’ve limited it. Mingi and San are not allowed to bring anyone over, I’ve made it glaringly clear. So please? Pretty please? Seonghwa and I will buy you dinner for a whole week!”

“Um, when did I agree to that?” Seonghwa’s voice carries over the phone against, his tone full of protest as Wooyoung makes the offer.

“Make it two weeks and you have a deal,” you respond, voice flat.

“What? No! That’s way too much. One week.”

“One and a half.”

“I’ll give you one week and Hwa will buy a whole bag of cat food for Victor.”

“Deal.”

“What?” Seonghwa’s shout of protest resounds again. “I did not agree to this!”

“Too bad, so sad, Hwa! She’s coming!” Wooyoung cheers, voice quieter as he pulls away from the phone for a moment. He comes back right after to talk to you again. “Okay, be here by eight. That’s when people will start showing up. Seonghwa’s getting us some good good alcohol so we’re really going to have fun. I promise!”

Wooyoung doesn’t give you the opportunity to respond; instead, he hangs up the phone and leaves you in silence again. You drop the phone to the couch with a sigh, glancing over at where Victor is now perched on the armrest.

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

He meows back at you, amber eyes wide with curiosity.

“Yea, that’s what I thought.”

…

The house is already booming with music when you arrive at the front door. Wooyoung is lucky to live with Seonghwa because the man is filthy rich and can afford to rent out a whole house to live in for the school year. It allows for loud parties like these, although the house is relatively small and the other houses around it are very close, they can at least have the luxury of not sharing a whole apartment building with hundreds of other people.

You don’t bother knocking, twisting the knob and stepping into the noise. Wooyoung is there to greet you at the door, two cups in hand, and he grins when he sees you.

“Y/N! Let’s get this shit started! Rum and coke?”

“Yea, yea.” You snatch one of the cups from his hand and start sipping at it without a second thought.

“Hey, that was mine!”

“Well, it’s mine now!”

“You little shit.” Wooyoung scrunches his nose up, then drops a hand to your back. “Okay almost everyone is here. San is in the middle of dragging Jongho over by the ear, then we’re gonna be in full party mode.”

“I can’t wait to make a speedy getaway.”

“You say that every time. Then you stay all night. Make up your mind, woman.” Wooyoung elbows you in the side. He catches sight of Seonghwa a moment later, rushing off to go stand with the older man. You watch him go with a small shake of your head. As much as Wooyoung doesn’t want to admit it, he is absolutely infatuated with his roommate. Every time they have a party like this, Wooyoung ends up in Seonghwa’s bed, and they wake up as though nothing happened. Part of you wishes you could have a relationship like that – fuck and move on without a care in the world. The two won’t admit that it’s something exclusive but you know Wooyoung wouldn’t dare sleep with anyone else, and Seonghwa doesn’t bring anyone to the house or spend the night elsewhere. They have an unspoken agreement, an undefined relationship. Still, it bothers Wooyoung that Seonghwa won’t speak up about his feelings, and you’ve had to console the man through drunk tears on occasion. The only action you get, on the other hand, is hearing Wooyoung’s stories about how they fucked and getting gross details of all the positions Seonghwa put him in throughout the night.

You shake your head at the thought, downing some more of your drink to expel the image from your mind. You glance around the living room, searching the faces of the people who are already here. Wooyoung was at least telling the truth, and there are only three people talking in a small circle. All are faces you recognize: Wooyoung’s friend Mingi, Seonghwa’s old flame and best friend Yeosang, and Yeosang’s current boyfriend Yunho. All people you know well enough to be friends with, so you approach them without any hesitation. It’s only when you step past Mingi’s outrageously tall form that you catch sight of a much smaller form, one with bright blue hair that you recognize in an instant.

“He fucking didn’t…” You mutter to yourself as you drag your gaze over the man’s form. “Jung Wooyoung, I swear…”

You spin on your heel just before going to where the group is standing. You make a beeline for Seonghwa and Wooyoung, catching the younger man by surprise when you grab hold of his shoulder and yank him back.

“Woah! What? What happened?”

“You fucking invited Kim Hongjoong?” You ask, tone incredulous as you glare at your best friend.

“I-I – oh shit. I forgot! I forgot you weren’t friends!”

“How did you fucking forget, Wooyoung? I tell you how much I had him on the daily!”

“Mingi asked if he could bring his roommate! I didn’t know that his roommate was Hongjoong, I swear. I’ve never met him before, I just assumed it was some random person. Please don’t hit me!” Wooyoung flinches away from you as you raise a hand to smack him across the back of the head.

“I can’t believe you,” you grumble as Wooyoung yelps. Seonghwa laughs at your exchange with Wooyoung, eyes forming soft crescents as he smiles. “You didn’t think to ask?”

“Why would I need to ask? We’re friends, I just assumed his roommate would be chill like he is!”

“No, it’s Kim fucking Hongjoong, the least chill person in the fucking universe. I’m leaving.”

“Woah, woah, woah! Please don’t, Y/N. You just got here, come on. Stay for just a little bit. You don’t even have to talk to him, okay? Just stay with me or Seonghwa. Or San when he gets here! I know you like him!”

“Shut up!” You turn away at the accusation, cheeks heating up as he points out your minor crush.

“I’m just stating facts,” Wooyoung huffs. He crosses his arms over his chest and sticks his tongue out at you.

“I’ll stay as long as I don’t have to breathe near Hongjoong.” You send a glare at the blue-haired man’s back even though he can’t see you. You don’t even know if he’s seen you yet; he’s still glued to Mingi’s side without a care in the world.

“What’s the deal with you two anyway?” Seonghwa asks as he brings his drink up to his lips.

“He’s a self-righteous fucking asshole who tears people down so he can feel better about himself,” you grumble back. Seonghwa’s eyebrows shoot up, and Wooyoung shakes his head.

“Competition. They’re both good at piano. Thus… they’re competition to each other.”

“Yea, yea… it would help if he wasn’t such a fuckwad.”

“Ooh, fuckwad. That’s a new one. Hey, Hwa, how kinky would it be to call you fuckwad during sex?”

“I – what?”

“Please spare me! I did not come here to hear about that again.”

“Oh, fuckwad, harder!” Wooyoung cries out, leaning closer to you. You try to swat him away with weak hands.

“Not as kinky or hot as you think,” Seonghwa chimes in, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Maybe we can try it tonight and see if I change your mind.”

“I hate it here,” you chime in, trying to hide behind your drink.

“Sure you do.”

“No, I really hate it here. This is disgusting, I didn’t sign up for this.”

“I mean, you can watch if you want–”

“No! Oh my god, no. Wooyoung!”

Wooyoung cackles as he pulls away from the two of you, moving over to where the others stand with their drinks, and leaves you and Seonghwa to stand at the edge of the kitchen.

“What am I going to do with him?” Seonghwa asks as he watches the short brunette walk away.

“Marry him?”

Seonghwa releases a small laugh. “We’ll see, we’ll see.”

You smile at the taller man, glancing at his love-stricken expression out the corner of your eye before downing the rest of your drink. Casting another glance over at Hongjoong’s back, you spin on your heel and enter the kitchen to make yourself another drink. The amount of rum you put in is almost shameful, and it’s a good thing that your recital is on Saturday and not tomorrow because you know you will end up absolutely wasted before the night is over. You don’t even bother to put soda in this time either, just leaving the liquor and a few cubes of ice.

The alcohol burns as it sears down your throat. Seonghwa has moved forward to join Wooyoung with the others. You know you’re going to have to go over there eventually, but Hongjoong’s lurking form is deterring you from doing so for now. Just your luck too because the doorbell rings as you step out of the kitchen.

“I’ll get it!” You call out over your shoulder, making your way over to the door. You already have an inkling as to who it might be, and that is only confirmed when you crack the door open. San and Jongho stand behind it, bright smiles on both their faces. You bite down hard on your lower lip at the sight of the former and try not to let your gaze rake over his body as he steps over the threshold.

“Oh, Y/N! I didn’t know you were going to come too. What a pleasant surprise!” San says. His hand finds your waist as he pulls you in for a warm hug. Your heart does small cartwheels as he presses against you, and you feel the need to down a whole bottle of rum to expel the feelings.

“Yea, I-I, uh, Wooyoung convinced me to come,” you stammer out, glancing away from San’s face. Jongho smiles at you but says nothing, and he looks a lot less excited to be here than San. You understand the feeling at least and pass a sympathetic smile in his direction.

“I’m glad he did. I don’t see you nearly enough.”

“Oh shut up. You’re just one building over, you can always visit me in the practice rooms.”

“And risk seeing asshole supreme? I’ll pass.” San laughs as he shuts the front door, and you know exactly who he’s talking about.

“Don’t speak too soon. He’s here with Mingi.”

“Oh fuck. Where’s the alcohol? I’m gonna need it.”

“Kitchen.”

“Bless you.”

“Mhm,” you hum over the rim of your cup. Your eyes shift back over to where the others are standing. Your heart plummets in an instant as you see Hongjoong’s gaze on your form. That familiar hatred is lingering in his stare, and you return it immediately with an equal amount of fury. Rather than staying any longer to see him, you move to follow San into the kitchen, downing a good amount of alcohol along the way.

“You know, I should’ve brought my girlfriend with me,” San says as you step into the kitchen. You freeze in your tracks, mouth falling agape as your brain processes the words. It’s almost a physical pain that spreads across your chest when you realize what he’s saying. You don’t let it show on your face though; the pain is covered with a shaky smile and laugh.

“W-What do you mean?”

“You’re always the only girl at these parties. It must suck to not, I don’t know, have another girl to talk to, you know?” San brings a cup to his lips, sipping at it quietly as he looks at you. You swallow roughly.

“Right, yea. Of course. I… Honestly, I barely notice. I have Wooyoung.”

“Good point, good point. I’ll be sure to bring her to the next one though. I think the two of you would get along! Hell, you might even know her. She’s in the piano program.”

“O-Oh, wow! Wow. Wow. What a coincidence!”

“I know right? Her name is Minnie if you talk to her at all.”

You nearly choke on your drink as San says the name. Not only do you know the girl in question, she is one of your closest friends – if not your closest friend in the piano program. Not once did she ever let it slip that she was dating your crush. The crush you have mentioned to her on multiple occasions. Nice. Fuck, this nice just keeps getting better and better.

“I-I, no. No, uh, I’ve not talked to her too much!” You lie with another weak smile. “But I’ll be sure to introduce myself soon. I’d love to chat with her about music and stuff.”

“Yea, absolutely. I can give you her number if you’d like?”

“No, no! It’s okay! I’ll see her tomorrow in class. You don’t need to do that.”

“Oh yea, I forgot you guys have practice together every day. She speaks highly of your playing, by the way.”

Your smile is beginning to hurt your cheeks as you strain to keep it going.

“Oh please, I’m not that good. Nothing special.”

“Humble words for the best in the program,” San replies with a lilt to his tone. Your cheeks feel like they might collapse if you maintain the grin any longer. Thankfully, San steps away from the counter and motions towards the living room a moment later.

“I’m gonna go say hi to the others.”

“Yea, go ahead. I’m just gonna get a refill on my drink!” You don’t need another refill, you still have half a cup left. You throw it back when San disappears though in the hopes that it’ll take the sting in the corners of your eyes away. It wasn’t even a straight-up rejection. Still, you’ve spent months pining after San and trying to get close to him, only for this to happen. One of your closest friends to up and date him behind your back? Yea, that hurts a lot more than you’d like to admit. Once the alcohol is fully down, you drop your cup to the counter and begin to pour another glass of straight rum. You don’t even notice when someone else steps into the kitchen with a drink in hand.

“Even at a random party, you manage to annoy me.”

Hongjoong. As though your night couldn’t get any worse, he decides to come and bother you. How perfect. You should’ve said no to Wooyoung.

“Shut the fuck up. I’m not in the mood to deal with you.” You slam the bottle of rum against the counter and bring your cup back to your lips. Hongjoong comes closer to the counter, shaking his head at your behavior.

“Such a model student you are.”

“You’re one to fucking talk.”

“The mouth on you is absolutely foul.”

“I didn’t realize we weren’t allowed to cuss.”

“It’s not pretty for a lady to cuss.”

You nearly toss your drink in his face but somehow you manage to hold back from doing so.

“My patience is already minimal.”

“Rejection ruin your night?” Hongjoong reaches across the counter to pick up the bottle of alcohol. You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you think you’ll draw blood. “Everyone in class knows that Minnie’s dating San. How did you manage to miss that? Especially seeing as you’re the one who talks with her the most?”

“She neglected to tell me.”

“Probably didn’t want to crush your dreams.”

Your grip on the cup in your hand tightens. Hongjoong’s words shouldn’t get to you – they normally don’t, but right now you’re already in a bit of a fragile mindstate, so the stinging in the corners of your eyes returns in a rush. You inhale sharply. Hongjoong glances up at you as he hears the sound. His fingers pause on the bottle of rum.

“Are you crying?” He asks. You squeeze your eyes shut as though it will hide the evidence of your tears, but it only serves to cause them to run down your cheeks. “Fuck, I-I’m sorry. I di-didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Hongjoong’s apology is quite the shocker. You half-expected him to laugh in your face and call you all sorts of names. When you glance over at him again, his expression is one full of regret and guilt. You wipe furiously at your cheeks with one hand, keeping the other on your cup of alcohol.

“Shut the fuck up,” you say again, albeit with a much shakier tone this time. All the remorse on Hongjoong’s expression melts away in an instant. He glares at you in response and returns to pouring himself another cup of alcohol. You turn away and move towards one of the counters, hopping up on it and mulling over your drink in silence.

“You’re really going to sit there and mope all night? I should’ve known you were boring as fuck just from hearing your performance quality.”

It didn’t even take a minute for Hongjoong to return to insulting you. The temptation of chucking your drink at him returns, but once again you manage not to do that.

“What do you get out of being mean to me? Does it make you feel better? Is that it?”

“No. You’re just so easy to rile up. Makes you worse at playing the piano too, which means it makes me that much better than you. Eliminating the competition, love. That’s all.”

“Don’t fucking call me ‘love’.”

“Why? Does it get you going?”

“I hate you so much, I swear. Don’t you have a line of girls you can fuck around with whenever you’re bored?” You hiss the question at Hongjoong. He laughs a little, one corner of his lips curling up as he takes in your questions. He hums and pushes the bottle of alcohol away again, then brings his cup up to his lips. After a long and slow drag of the drink, he pushes it back down to the counter. You watch his movements with wary eyes as he steps around the counter and moves closer to where you’re perched.

“What’s the fun in that?” He asks, head tilting to the side as he draws closer to you. “Why not play a little game of cat and mouse? Tease, poke fun, see how much it takes for someone to give in. That’s real fun.”

“So I’m a game to you?” You spit out as Hongjoong closes in on you. He pauses in his tracks, only a few feet away from you now.

“A game? You aren’t the game itself. You’re just a piece in the game. The true game is getting under your skin.”

Hongjoong continues to move forward until he hits your knees. Despite his short stature, he’s just tall enough to be eye level with you at this angle. You lean back, head thudding against the cabinet behind you. There’s nowhere for you to go, and you stare back at Hongjoong with narrowed eyes. You bring your cup up, effectively blocking him from coming any closer, and down some more alcohol in the hopes that it’ll drive away the sudden warmth in your gut that arises when Hongjoong grins at you.

“Cat got your tongue all of a sudden, princess?”

“No,” you rush to answer. Hongjoong’s smile persists, and he places his hands down on the counter. They close you in, dropped on either side of your form. He’s putting an awful amount of trust that you won’t knee him in the balls like this, because you’re at the perfect angle to do so.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Hongjoong says. Your breath catches in your throat when you hear his words, and you panic, shoulders tensing up in an instant. Hongjoong hesitates, watching your movements with careful eyes. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

“N-No, I… I…” You can’t finish the sentence. Your gaze travels down the slope of Hongjoong’s nose to his plush lips, their dark red color enticing you to lean forward. It’s the alcohol in your system, it really must be, because otherwise you wouldn’t even dream of kissing him. Hongjoong leans even closer, his breath mixing with yours. It smells like alcohol, and as he gets closer, you can see a faint blush across his nose and cheeks. He must be feeling the effects of the drinks as well, which should be a sign for you to stop and know that you’ll regret this in the morning. Hell, you aren’t even drunk yet. You’re barely tipsy. So why the fuck do you want to Hongjoong to pin you to the bed and fuck you senseless?

You don’t think any longer than that. You drape your arms around Hongjoong’s neck and close the distance between your lips. His lips are soft and warm when they hit yours, slotting together like puzzle pieces. He sighs into the kiss. He pushes against you as his hands shift to grip your hips. Despite the smell of alcohol on his breath, his lips taste sickenly sweet, almost like liquorice candy. Strangely, you can’t get enough of you. His tongue prods at your lower lips, swiping across the skin in a way that causes shivers to run down your spine.

A slight gasp escapes you, and Hongjoong uses that to his advantage. He presses his tongue between your lips with ease. It hits yours in an instant battle for dominance, and that sweet liquorice taste is on his tongue as well as though he’s been eating the candy for hours.

He pulls back for a moment, letting the two of you catch your breath. Your eyelids flutter as he moves, and your head falls back against the cabinet behind you. Hongjoong takes advantage of the motion. He leans forward and presses his lips to the column of your throat, tongue dragging over the skin there. Small gasps of air leave you as he sucks gently at the skin as well, and you know you should stop him because he’ll leave marks. Marks that won’t be gone within two days for the competition. Yet you don’t mind it too much ask his tongue lavishes your neck. What you do mind is the fact that the two of you are still in the kitchen. Which has no doors. So anyone could walk in and see the two of you going at it like this at any second.

You nudge Hongjoong’s shoulder, and he pulls off within an instant.

“What’s up?” He asks in the most nonchalant and casual tone ever.

“Upstairs bedroom. First door on the left. I’ll meet you up there in five minutes,” you say through a series of gasps. Hongjoong arches a brow, your confident tone catching him off-guard as well as the confirmation that the two of you are taking this further. He pulls away from you. His hands slide down your thighs as he moves in a teasing manner, and the gleam in his eyes tells you that he knows exactly what he is doing. You wait until he’s completely gone from the kitchen to release the breath you were holding, eyes falling shut. You take another chug of alcohol and finish off the rest of your glass. It’s just enough liquid courage for you to hop off the counter and pace around the kitchen, hands pressed together as though in prayer.

Now that Hongjoong is gone, you’re suddenly second-guessing this whole… situation. The two of you hate each other, that fact hasn’t changed in the slightest, you know that he still hates you as much as you hate him. It’s just the alcohol. It’s just the alcohol, it has to be. You’re still thinking straight and clearly though. It’s the arousal in your gut then. That was not there before Hongjoong kissed you or when you pulled him into said kiss. Then… perhaps the rejection that wasn’t really rejection from San. Maybe it’s that. Surely it’s that. Or maybe the two of you just need to fuck this out of your systems and carry on with hating each other.

Thinking is getting you nowhere. You don’t wait any longer, dipping out of the kitchen and taking the stairs up to the second floor without a second thought. The door you mentioned to Hongjoong belongs to Wooyoung, and he may not be happy about you using his bedroom to fuck your sworn enemy, but he’ll be wasted and distracted with Seonghwa within an hour anyway. You push into the bedroom with a sudden burst of confidence, but that dissipates the second you step in and lay your eyes on Hongjoong.

He’s stripped the leather jacket he was wearing off, leaving him in black pants that are far too tight, and a tucked-in tee that looks so effortlessly good on him that you hate it. You hate how damn perfect he is without even trying. He barely gives you time to shut the door before he’s approaching you, pressing you up against the wood. Your lips find each other again, and you moan out of surprise. The sound spurs Hongjoong on; he grabs hold of one of your legs and hikes it around his waist. The show of strength sends a surge of arousal to your core. He presses his tongue between your lips again, and you eat that sickly sweet taste of liquorice up as though starved.

“Are you sure?” Hongjoong asks, pulling away for a brief moment to look you in the eye.

“Yes,” you respond without any hesitation. “Yes, so fuck me.”

“Fuck…” Hongjoong mutters. He pulls you off the wall, and you press your other leg around his waist as he moves for the bed. You’re glad Wooyoung at least didn’t leave his room a complete mess otherwise Hongjoong would be tripping over clothes and shoes. He makes it to the bed with ease, however, dropping you to the mattress. The air leaves your lungs in a huff. You sit up on your elbows. Hongjoong stays back for a few moments, tugging at his belt until it’s completely gone, then his shirt follows quickly. You barely noticed the obvious tent in his pants prior to this but in all honesty, your eyes were looking anywhere except for his groin. His stripping encourages you to do the same, pulling at your own t-shirt and discarding of it on Wooyoung’s floor. Your shorts are harder to inch off, but as you tug at the zipper, Hongjoong’s hands land on your hips.

He doesn’t say a word, yanking your pants down with such ease that you nearly melt at the sight. Now he’s the one overdressed though, tight pants still clinging to his form, while you’re left in the black set of lingerie that you wore without thinking you were going to end up like this. Hongjoong doesn’t seem to mind one bit, bending down over you and dropping his hands on either side of your body. You welcome him with a kiss full of teeth and saliva.

“Fuck you’re hot,” Hongjoong says as he pulls off your lips for a second. He reaches around your torso and unhooks your bra, yanking it off you. Cold air hits your chest, and you suddenly feel very embarrassed at the exposure. Hongjoong’s eyes rake over you. He brings a hand to drag over your chest, pinching your nipple without warning. You gasp at the sensation, and your back arches off the bed under his fingers. Your reaction encourages him to repeat the motion, and he dips down to latch around your other nipple with his lips. You cry out from the sudden stimulation, Hongjoong’s teeth grazing over your breast lightly, and your hands reach down to find purchase in his bright blue hair.

He doesn’t waste much time though, lips quickly leaving your breast and trailing wet kisses down your bare abdomen until he reaches the band of your underwear. A grin spreads across his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief as he snags the material with his fingers and pulls it down with ease. You don’t even have time to think before he reaches between your folds and flattens his tongue against your clit. Another startled yelp escapes your, legs jerking, and Hongjoong hooks his arm around your leg and grasps at your opposite hip with the same hand. The other hand lingers at your core, teasing your dripping folds while his tongue goes to work at your clit.

“Fuck, you taste so good, princess,” Hongjoong purrs against your lower lips. You glance down at him, making eye contact as he drags his tongue through your arousal. You can see your juices on his lips. The dirty sight causes you to writhe against him. He stills you by pressing two fingers into your heat.

“Ah! Ho-Hongjoong, oh my god,” you stammer out as he immediately curls those two fingers inside you and nips gently at your sensitive bud. “F-Fuck, fuck.”

“Such a dirty mouth for a dirty little slut, huh?” You can’t respond with words this time, but his statement draws a high-pitched whine out of you and your walls tighten around his fingers. Hongjoong teases the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue. “Dirty talk then? Or degradation?”

You answer by squeezing around his fingers again, and the sensation is so tight that Hongjoong grits his teeth.

“You’re gonna be so good around my cock,” he hisses out. He squeezes a third finger into your heat, scissoring you open with relative ease. That damn tongue continues to tease your clit. He flicks over the small bead and draws small circles around it. It edges you closer and closer to an orgasm, but Hongjoong senses that and pulls away within an instant. He drags his tongue lower instead and pushes the wet muscle into your heat with his fingers. The added stimulation makes you cry out, and your hand grips Hongjoong’s hair and tugs at the strands. He nearly growls, the vibrations of the sound reverberating through your core in just the right way. It causes your orgasm to hit all of a sudden, back arching off the bed and body going slack as the intense waves wash over you.

Hongjoong guides you through the orgasm, fingers still curled inside you as he pulls his tongue back to lick the juices off his lips.

“Ready to take my cock in that dirty little cunt?”

“Yes, fuck – fuck, yes. Please fuck me.”

“Since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can do that.”

Hongjoong pulls back from your core, hands going straight to his pants. He has to stand up to tug them down, and he yanks his underwear down in the same motion. You’re surprised by his size in all honesty. He’s rather short compared to the other men you’ve been with so you weren’t expecting much in that department, but he’s much larger than you expected him to be. He doesn’t give you time to gape any longer though, kneeling back on the bed and pulling your legs up around his waist. He guides his member to your entrance. You swallow in anticipation and watch him slowly enter you. He continues moving forward until he bottoms out, a low groan leaving his lips when you instinctively clench around his cock.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” he grunts out, leaning down over you again.

“Just fuck me already,” you say in response. You curl your fingers around his neck and bring his head down to yours. Your lips connect as he pulls out, and the sharp thrust of his hips against the back of your thighs breaks the kiss. You throw your head back at the sensation, the curve of his cock rubbing against your sweet spot at just the right angle. You can’t keep the moans from slipping out; the feeling is far too good for you to keep quiet, and it spurs Hongjoong to thrust faster. He picks up a relentless pace, hips slamming against your thighs at an almost bruising pace.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans. You tilt your head to the side and press your lips against your bicep, biting down on the flesh in attempts to quiet your moans. Hongjoong must not like that because his fingers close around the base of your throat. “Eyes on me.”

You follow the order without thinking twice, snapping your head back to look Hongjoong in the eye. Your quick obedience brings a stutter to his thrusts. He dips down to capture your lips in his own. Despite the fact that you just hit one orgasm, the drag of his member inside your walls is already spurring you to another one in a short amount of time. Your sporadic clenches around Hongjoong’s cock signal that oncoming orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum again, slut?” He growls against your lips. You nod a few times, tongue darting out to taste his liquorice tasting ones. He pulls just out of your reach and leans back. “Do it yourself.” His words draw a surprised gasp from your mouth. You can’t tell whether he’s being serious or not until he pulls his still hard member out of your heat. You swallow roughly, eyes trailing over him in disbelief, before pulling yourself up to be eye level with him again.

“T-Then let me ride you,” you say. Hongjoong arches a brow and bites his lower lip. Still, he doesn’t move. You blink at him. You don’t know what he’s wanting you to do or expecting you to do, so you do the only thing you can think of. Pin him down against the bed, throw a leg over his hips, and grip his member by the base. He groans at the action, watching you guide his cock back to your drenched folds with a cocky grin. You wipe the smile off his lips with a sudden drop of your hips. You take his whole length in again and don’t waste any time in picking up your pace until it matches his previous one. Even as you bounce on his member, he doesn’t grip your hips or guide your movements, just laying back and watching you do all the work. It reminds you of how much you hate the man, even in the throes of pleasure, he’s still an arrogant and self-righteous asshole. That thought doesn’t keep your orgasm from approaching quickly. Your bounces slow down as you grow ever closer to your high. When it hits, you release a loud cry, freezing on top of him with pulsing walls as the strength leaves your body. You stay like that for a few seconds, unable to move because of the intense orgasm, then pull off slowly.

He watches you with a narrowed gaze as you lower your mouth to his cock. You lap at his member, collecting the juices and precum from it, then take half of him into your mouth. He nearly bucks up into your mouth. You have to comb a few strands of hair back when they fall over his member. Hongjoong releases a wanton moan. You bob your head up and down along his cock in efforts to make him cum faster, and the plan works in your favor. Moments later, he is spilling hot cum down your throat. You swallow every last drop. When you pull off his softening member, you wipe at your lower lip with a satisfied grin.

“You fuck better than I thought,” Hongjoong says through a deep sigh.

“You’re not half bad yourself,” you answer as you fall back against the bed. Your whole body aches and burns from the sex, but you feel extremely satisfied as well. Hongjoong moves with you, head hitting the pillow at the same time yours does.

The two of you refuse to look at each other even in the afterglow of your sex. You don’t know what to say to him, or if you should say anything for that matter. All you can do is stare at the ceiling. Based on the noise that resounds from across the hall, Seonghwa and Wooyoung are already getting down to business. If you hadn’t just fucked Hongjoong, you might find this predicament awkward.

“I’m going to shower,” Hongjoong announces after the silence drags on for a few minutes.

“Y-Yea, yea, go ahead. Help yourself to a towel and stuff. Wooyoung won’t mind.” You watch the man get up and head into the bathroom. The awkwardness is now setting in, and you aren’t sure what this means for the two of you. Perhaps it was just hate sex, but it certainly wasn’t drunk sex because the two of you were surprisingly sober before you even started fucking. It shouldn’t change anything at all.

At least, that’s what you have to keep telling yourself. As Hongjoong passes you on his way out of the bathroom, he doesn’t even spare you so much as a glance. You take a shower of your own in complete and utter silence, mostly spending your time staring at the wall with a blank stare. It’s only when you step out of the shower and look at yourself in the mirror that you say something

“God, how fucking dumb can you be, Y/N?” You towel your body dry and reach down to snatch one of Wooyoung’s spare shirts off the floor, not caring that it might be dirty as you tug it over your head.

When you step back into the bedroom, Hongjoong is long gone. You shouldn’t be surprised. You really shouldn’t. You knew he wasn’t going to stay, and you knew that this was nothing more than a quick fuck for him. However, you are not the type to just have a quick fuck and go. So when you slide under the covers of Wooyoung’s bed, you only feel cold and dejected. Sleeps doesn’t come for quite some time, and you refuse to admit that there were tears on your cheeks at any point in the night. It was just a quick fuck and nothing more. You really have to keep reminding yourself of that fact.

…

“Come on, ladies! Quit moving so slowly! We’re on a schedule.”

You release a huff. The bus seat under your ass is wildly uncomfortable, and even though two days have passed, you aren’t any less sore from your little sex escapade with Hongjoong the other night. It’s the morning of the piano competition now, and you have managed to fully avoid Hongjoong in every way up until now. Because for some unknown and dumb reason, your professor decided that he needed a seating chart for the bus. And he thus decided that putting you and Hongjoong next to each other was a brilliant idea. You can only be glad that you arrived before he did, taking the window seat and pressing your headphones in so that you don’t even have to interact with him in the slightest.

It feels like some bad karma is against you at the moment, the same bad karma that perhaps caused you to fuck Hongjoong in the first place. Being forced to sit next to him is a punch in the gut. You thumb through your music on your phone to find the piece you’ll be playing for the competition today, letting the chords and notes resound through your ears and take over your thoughts. You don’t even notice when Hongjoong climbs onto the bus and sits down beside you, but the sudden lurching of the vehicle causes your eyes to snap open. You glance around in surprise, the music completely distracting you from what was going on around you. When your eyes fall on Hongjoong, you taste liquorice on your tongue. More than that, you fucking smell the candy.

You understand why after a moment, Hongjoong’s fingers toying with a small cube of the black candy. He pops it between his lips, tongue darting out to drag over his lips and collect the rest of the sweet treat’s taste. Then, he glances at you out the corner of his eye and catches your lingering stare.

“What the fuck do you want?”

You were right about one thing. Nothing has changed between the two of you. You opt not to respond and turn away from him with a huff. You return to your music, trying your best to only focus on the notes and all the notes you got from your professor over the past few weeks. Thankfully, Hongjoong doesn’t bother you any longer and actually lets you have some damn peace and quiet. However, you blame him for the fact that your mind keeps drifting back to him, thinking about everything from his body to the way he fucked you the other night and how good it felt. With each intruding thought, you crank your volume up higher and higher. It does nothing to expel the thoughts but at least it gives you some peace of mind.

That is, until Hongjoong elbows you harshly in the side. You yank one of your earbuds out and whip to look at him.

“What?” You spit out with venom in your tone.

“Turn your fucking music down. I can barely think with how loud it is.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“It’s your damn music,” Hongjoong hisses back with an equal amount of anger to his voice.

“Fucking deal with it.”

Hongjoong’s hand darts out and closes around your thigh. You choke on your saliva, coughing as he squeezes your leg. His fingers are dangerously close to your core, and due to your surprise, you pressed your thighs together and effectively trapped his hand between your legs. Hongjoong leans closer to you, and you pull away in response.

“Turn your damn music down.”

You can smell the candy on his breath, and it reminds you of the taste of his tongue and feel of his lips. You almost want to lean in and revisit the taste, but you resist that burning urge. Instead, you manage to plug your earbud back in and turn the volume down a few notches. It’s enough to satiate Hongjoong for the time being. His grip on your thigh disappears, giving you a chance to breathe again but it’s much harder to breathe now that he’s gotten you a bit worked up like this. You curl further against the window and glare at the passing scenery as the music continues to play in your ears. At some point, you fall asleep to the rhythmic beats of your piece. You don’t even realize it, head still pressed to the cool glass of the window as the bus rumbles onto your destination.

You wake up once the bus comes to a halt, and you wake up with a jolt. However, it’s not because of the bus’ sudden stop; no, it’s because your head has somehow managed to come to rest on Hongjoong’s shoulder as you were sleeping. How that happened, you have absolutely no clue because you were angled towards the window and you’ve never been one to move much in your sleep. Hongjoong must have fallen asleep as well, because as soon as you jolt upwards, your head smacks against his and he wakes with a start.

“What the fuck?” He cusses, bringing a hand to rub at his temple where you hit him. You rub at the sleep in your eyes in attempts to hide the evidence of your tiredness before your professor catches sight.

“Wake up, shithead,” you mutter as you shove his shoulder. “I need to get past.”

“Your fault for choosing the damn window seat.”

“And it’s your fault for falling asleep.”

“Were you not just sleeping yourself?”

“I hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Hongjoong spits back, eyes narrowed at you. He gets up regardless and steps away, and you take the chance to leave the bus with your bag in tow.

The one thing you hate the most about these recitals and competitions is the fact that you have to dress up nicely for them. It would be nice to show up and perform just the music, hell maybe even just play behind a curtain. But no, the judges need to see you and you have to be immaculate in every way. It’s not cheap in the slightest, but you’ve opted to reuse one of your previous recital dresses in the hopes that none of the judges will be faces you recognize.

Your professor leads the way into the concert hall, and you linger at Minnie’s side, as ironic as it is. Despite still being madly angry at her for not telling you that she was fucking dating Choi San behind your fucking back, she is still your closest friend in the program. That and she can’t seem to shut up about some movie she watched the other day. Her noise at least distracts you for the time being, especially as Hongjoong slips past you and runs a hand through his blue locks. The action is far too enticing and attractive for your liking. Again you’re left to blame it on horniness.

As you walk through the concert hall, those familiar gnawings of anxiety bite at your heels. Minnie is chattering away in your ear but you can’t hear a word she’s saying. Your hands grow cold quickly, and you tighten your grasp on your bag. You only relax a little once you get backstage and settle into a small dressing room.

“Alright, get ready quickly! Y/N, you’re the opener for the competition so you should get ready first.”

You respond with a few shaky nods before ducking into one of the bathrooms in the room. You change with haste, tugging the dark blue dress over your form until it rests comfortably on your body. You took care of your hair and makeup before coming; that was the first thing you did in the morning. All that’s left it to put on your shoes and get warmed up for the performance.

“Y/N, the room across the hall is where you can warm up,” your professor says when you step back out of the bathroom. You answer with another set of nods, moving for your bag to put your casual clothes back inside and replace your shoes.

“You’re gonna kill it!” Minnie drops a hand to your shoulder, squeezing you tightly.

“Thanks,” you mutter back as you fasten the straps of your shoes. When you stand up, you catch sight of Hongjoong staring at you. Your immediate response is to glare at him, which he returns just as quickly. “What?”

“Don’t fuck up too much. I don’t wanna have to clean up our reputation for you.”

You puff your cheeks full of air and stomp out of the room, not bothering to fight back at Hongjoong’s insult. You head straight for the practice room across the hall. It takes a few adjustments of the bench and your shoes, but you manage to get seated comfortably at the piano.

“Emotions. You need to show the emotions, Y/N,” you murmur to yourself as your fingers touch the ivories. It isn’t even the real thing, you should just be warming up and practicing the parts you had troubles with, but you still put your all into it as though it is the real thing. By the time you conclude the last notes of the song, you aren't even sure that you did what you needed to do. You can’t hear the emotion in the notes, you can only play them and hope for the best.

How Hongjoong does it is a mystery to you. He plays each note like it’s his very blood and bones, his life story laid bare before the keys. For someone so full of hatred and anger, it seems even more confusing to you, and as much as you try to reconcile it, you can’t.

“L/N Y/N to the stage. L/N Y/N to the stage.” You glance up with a start, eyeing the small speaker in the corner of the room. There’s a growing lump in your throat, and it only grows larger as you walk out of the room. Your professor is waiting there for you, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder as the two of you begin to walk towards the stage.

“Remember the time signature and tempo. Watch your crescendos. And emotion! Put feeling into it!” He says as you walk ever closer to the front. You can’t respond due to the lump in your throat. Your attempts to swallow it down and dispel it do nothing either. As you reach the curtains, you catch sight of a certain blue-haired man at the edge of the stage. Your gaze hardens on him. Hongjoong never comes to stand by the stage and watch you perform. He’s toying with another black liquorice candy when you walk up to him, popping the candy between his lips before dropping his hand to mess with his cufflinks.

“Our first performer of the day, Miss Y/N L/N. She will be performing Franz Liszt’s Etude Opus 161, Number 3, La Campenella,” the announcer says, his voice booming through the hall. You don’t have time to think before your professor is pushing you forward onto the stage, and you nearly suffer the embarrassment of tripping over your feet on the way to the piano.

You reach the instrument without any issue, by luck of a miracle. The lump in your throat subsides as you sink onto the piano bench, and your fingers dance over the knobs on the bench to adjust it to your liking. Lift your left hand high, right one at the ready on the keys for the cue from your left. You drop your left hand to the keyboard and begin playing your piece to the best of your ability.

All your focus becomes consumed by the keys and music in your ears. You can’t even glance up to watch your professor or Hongjoong’s expression, too enraptured with your playing to think about anything other than the piano. Your whole body follows the tempo of the piece. You sway back and forth, following the movements of your hands as they dance across the ivory keys, and your heart leaps a little in your chest with each successful chord and note. Even if you aren’t able to fully capture the emotions behind a song, you can at least perform. And performing is what you do best. Replicating the notes, decrescendos, crescendos, chords, octaves and leaps, your runs and arpeggios all executed to absolute perfection. The entire performance is full of the excitement in the piece up until your last note after the five and a half minutes of playing.

Your fingers hover over that final note, letting it ring out and coat the ears of your listeners, and when you pull back, your foot slips off the pedal to let the music die out into silence. Applause greets you as you rise from the bench and bow towards the judges. You leave the stage the way you came, joining your professor and Hongjoong at the edge just behind the curtains.

“That was better than ever!” Your teacher cheers as you reach his side. He beams from ear to ear, eyes hidden behind the smile of his eyelids, but you don’t pay him any attention. Rather you look to Hongjoong in attempts to gauge his expression. If he’s impressed in the slightest, he does well to conceal it.

“Following Miss Y/N L/N, we have Mr. Kim Hongjoong, playing Chopin’s Nocturne, Opus 48, number 1.” The announcer’s voice rings out again, calling Hongjoong onto the stage. He glances away from you as he steps out from behind the curtain.

“They put us back to back?” You mutter the question to your professor, who just looks down at you with a glint in his dark eyes.

“The judges requested that you two play back to back,” he explains, maintaining his grin.

“Oh…” You exhale and turn back to watch Hongjoong sit down at the piano. His performance is always a thing of beauty, but you know exactly why the judges would want the two of you back to back. Whilst you exude perfection in every note, Hongjoong does more. More with the piece, he plays with the rhythms and tempos, creating music that sounds wholly his. He plays as though he is the sole creator of the piece and no one else. Each piano he plays becomes part of him. You are polar opposites when it comes to performing. And that’s what they want to see. They want to see the two of your challenge each other with your differing play styles.

The lump in your throat returns as Hongjoong begins to play. Something feels off in the very first note. A spring of anxiety pops up in your gut as you hear it. It isn’t the same as usual, something in the way Hongjoong’s fingers glide over the ivories is not right. The professor still looks quite pleased though, almost like he doesn’t even notice the difference. When you glance out over the panel of judges, they bear similar expressions. It’s a mystery to you how they don’t notice the difference because in your ears, it is so stark and unable to be missed.

The next six minutes carry on with that same vibe. You can’t place what is going wrong until Hongjoong presses his fingers to the final note. The wrong note.

You lurch forward. Hongjoong freezes. The chord echoes through the whole hall, the glaringly obvious mistake resounding without stop even as Hongjoong pulls his fingers off the keys. He stands. Bows to the judges. Heads back towards where you’re standing without a word. It’s not like Hongjoong to make a mistake, not like him at all. You don’t think he’s ever made a mistake, even in practices he is always meticulous and perfect.

Hongjoong’s hands are trembling when he comes off stage. He strides past you without sparing you a glance. He doesn’t look at anything in fact, his eyes are unfocused as he moves forward. You can only stay rooted to the spot and watch him move away without a word. It happens in a millisecond, and if you blinked you would have missed it for certain. Hongjoong’s legs give out and he begins to collapse. Your professor rushes to his side as fast as possible. He grips the blue-haired man’s arm and pulls him back up, draping his arm over a shoulder and rushing down the hall. He’s calling for a medic and an ambulance, and as soon as those words process in your head, you choke on air.

Your feet move before your thoughts do. You chase after the pair, hiking your dress up a bit as you run. The old man carries Hongjoong back to your shared dressing room. Your fellow students dash out of the room as he brings Hongjoong in. You pause in the door frame, watching the scene unfold before you with a plummeting heart. An emergency nurse pushes past you to get in and effectively blocks your line of sight. All you can see is the blue strands of hair atop Hongjoong’s head and nothing more.

Someone catches hold of your arm. It’s Minnie, and she tugs on your wrist as she spews words in your direction. However, you don’t hear a thing. Your ears still ring with that final wrong note Hongjoong played, eyes unfocused as you try to look at Minnie. She’s pulling you to the aside, away from the hustle of bustle of the other people in the hall, and trying to catch your attention. You refuse to look at her, however, and opt to stare back at the room where Hongjoong is with wide eyes. The shock hasn’t drifted from your bones in the slightest.

You don’t get any form of relief until the emergency nurses file out of the dressing room. They don’t carry Hongjoong out on a gurney which is a small relief in and of itself. Your professor appears in the doorway next, sweat on his brow and glasses in one hand. The other runs through his hair – the minimal amount that’s left, that is – and he addresses the other students first.

“You all are to wait at the stage for your performances. You can go into that room across the hall if you need some more practice time, but you are not to enter the dressing room again until the end of the competition. Understood?”

You watch the students share a chorus on nods. Minnie releases your arm to move away with the rest of the students, but she sends one final look your way, one that seeks answers you do not have. Once all your classmates have filed away, you are left to stand across from your professor with bated breath. He doesn’t say anything at first, and neither do you, so the two of you just exchange forlorn stares without speaking. The silence drags on for so long that you think you might pass out; you’ve been holding your breath the entire time as well and it’s really starting to make you feel a bit lightheaded.

“What happened to him, professor?” You ask when the silence grows unbearable.

“He’s fine. Just a small accident.” The answer is spoken with haste, and his tone is flat. The way he says it almost implies that the words are rehearsed.

“A small accident wouldn’t warrant such a reaction from you though,” you reason, lifting a hand to scratch at your scalp.

“I need to go up to the stage to be with the other students, Miss L/N.” Your professor speaks with such finality that you don’t dare press the subject any further. Instead, you watch him walk back to the edge of the stage, waiting until he’s completely out of sight before pressing into the dressing room where Hongjoong is yourself.

You don’t see him immediately, which surprises you to a certain extent, but then you notice that the unisex bathroom in the back corner has an open door and the lights are on. Hongjoong must be in there, but it seems odd for him to have left the door open when anyone could walk in. You’re tempted to call out to him and ask if he’s alright. Something prevents you from doing so, however, and you merely creep closer to the room with quiet steps.

Whatever you might have been expecting goes out the window as you catch sight of Hongjoong’s blue head of hair. He is hunched over the toilet, an awful retching sound leaving his form every few seconds, and you can’t believe that the nurses and your professor dared to leave him alone in a state like this. Hongjoong hasn’t caught sight of you yet, but you certainly make your presence known as you stumble back. Your heel catches on the short train of your dress, you throw your hands back to brace yourself for a fall, but instead catch hold of a table and manage to stay on your feet.

Hongjoong whips his head towards you as you stumble, however, and all of his attention is suddenly directed at you. There is a small excess of vomit lingering on the corner of his mouth, and he wipes at it with the back of his hand as he looks towards you. There’s no explanation that would be suitable enough to explain what you’re doing or why you’re doing it, because frankly, you don’t even understand why yourself. That fact alone is slightly more terrifying than you would like to admit.

“What the hell do you want?” Hongjoong spits out. He slowly stands up straight, legs a bit wobbly as he moves, and moves for the sink to wash his hands and face. “Come to see me suffer? Does that get you going?”

Your jaw stutters as you fumble to come up with some sort of response. Nothing comes out for a few seconds and you’re left to just stare dumbly at Hongjoong with nothing but a blank expression.

“Figures…” Hongjoong mutters. He leaves the bathroom and heads for his small travel bag. You watch him move without saying anything, eyes tracking each of his movements with scrutiny. As he bends down to open the bag, Hongjoong winces. His arms jerk, back straightening for a brief moment, then his body returns to normal as though nothing happened. Hongjoong hisses, teeth gritted as he continues to push down and get whatever he was looking for. When he stands back up, you catch sight of a toothbrush and toothpaste in his hands. It’s strange, because those aren’t items he would typically bring to a competition like this one which lasts less than a day. The behavior makes it seem like he almost knew that this was going to happen.

“What’s wrong with you?” You ask out of the blue. Hongjoong all but ignores you in favor of walking towards the bathroom again, this time with toothbrush and toothpaste in hand. “I mean – what happened to you?”

“You’re going to have to elaborate because there’s plenty wrong with me.”

“On the stage, Hongjoong. You fucked up and missed the last note. You never do that.”

“Yea, well, I did this time. What do you want me to say?”

“You collapsed as soon as you were backstage. Something is obviously bothering you now since you puked. What the hell is going on with you?”

“Why do you care all of a sudden? Wanna know why your competition is getting worse? Get used to it.”

“No…” You trail off, unsure of what to say next. Hongjoong brushes his teeth with ferocity, and his gaze remains on the mirror rather than looking to you while you speak. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

You aren’t sure where the desire came from. It’s foreign to you, as it the worry that bubbles in your gut as you look over Hongjoong’s form. He seems frail all of a sudden, and that’s just so unlike him in every way that you can’t get past it. He doesn’t respond right away – probably due to the fact that his currently scrapping his toothbrush over the expanse of his tongue. You wait for a reply in silence for two minutes, then Hongjoong spits in the sink and washes his mouth out again.

“Parsonage-Turner Syndrome,” he says. His eyes find yours, still as void of emotion as ever, but you blink back in shock. “Do you know what that is?”

“N-No, I’ve never heard of it,” you answer honestly. Hongjoong sighs and returns to his duffel bag, pushing his toothbrush and toothpaste back inside. He digs around a bit more in the bag before standing up straight again. A small wrapped candy lingers between his fingers. He undoes the wrapper with quick motions, then pops the black liquorice between his lips.

“Idiopathic brachial plexopathy or neuralgic amyotrophy,” Hongjoong recites the words as though he’s heard them thousands of times. You don’t doubt that he has based upon the look in his eyes. “A rare disorder consisting of a complex constellation of symptoms with abrupt onset of shoulder pain, followed by progressive neurologic deficits of motor weakness, dysesthesias, and numbness.”

Hongjoong pauses and purses his lips. He looks away from you, but the way his eyes well up with crystalline tears doesn’t escape your notice. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek in silence. If there’s anything to be said, you certainly don’t know what it is.

“In short, I’m losing the function of my arms. Eventually, I won’t be able to use them at all. The more I play the piano, the bigger risk I run of destroying them further. How ironic, huh?” Hongjoong releases a dry laugh, but the humor is gone from his tone. As his words sink it, your heart sinks further and further. You dare to glance up at his face from across the room. The tears in his eyes have fallen down his cheeks. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen Hongjoong, but you also can’t imagine how difficult it must be for him. “How fucking ironic…”

Hongjoong’s voice dies off a little, cracking as he finishes his sentence. A moment of silence passes. You debate saying something but every time you try to speak, your voice dies in your throat. A scream of anguish leaves Hongjoong’s throat. He swings for the wall with his left hand, fingers clenched into a fist so tight that his knuckles are white. He hits the wall with such force that the sound echoes in your ears, and you flinch away from the table you’re leaning against. Hongjoong sinks to the floor, knees hitting the ground with a thud. His fist never quits its rhythm against the wall; he continues slamming his hand at the surface. You’re frozen in place, watching his fist hit the wall over and over until red flecks begin to spread across the pristine surface of the wall.

“Hongjoong–” You start towards him, a sudden urgency rushes to your bones, and you hurry to keep him from abusing his hand any more than he already has. “Hongjoong, stop. Stop it, Hongjoong, stop.”

You snatch him by the wrist, and he relaxes into your touch within an instant. He slumps forward until his forehead hits the wall. It takes a few seconds of silence, then a strangled sob escapes his slacked body. You catch him before he completely falls over and drag his weight in your direction instead. He doesn’t even complain, fingers finding the material of your dress and balling around it without a word. He cries against you. You can’t imagine how long he’s been holding it in, how long he’s known that this was his fate, that the thing he loves the most will lead to his destruction. It’s heartbreaking and horrible to think about. The fear of even spraining a finger haunts you sometimes, but Hongjoong has to live with the knowledge that his fate is to lose his ability to play forever.

“It’s okay, Hongjoong,” you mutter against his hairline. A laugh leaves his lips, but it’s wet and full of mucus. He nearly chokes as he continues to laugh.

“How the fuck is this okay? In what world is this okay? Answer me that.”

“I-I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Everyone is always fucking sorry. Yea, come say sorry again when you have your only passion stolen from you.”

“Ho-Hongjoong. No, I-I – stop. It’s not been taken away from you yet. You still have tim–”

“How much time? How long until I fuck my arms up to the point of no return?”

“Can’t they do anything?” Your question is spoken in such a quiet tone that you fear that Hongjoong might not hear it.

“There’s no cure. Just fucking physical therapy and acupuncture to slow the muscle denervation. Electrotherapy. Nothing that fixes it.”

“But it would slow it?”

“For a time.”

“Isn’t that worth it then? Even to just… try? The hope that maybe it will fix things enough to let you play is worth it isn’t it?”

“Worth it to what? I’ll never be able to play at the level I want to. I’ll never get to achieve my dreams, not in this condition. Not with this disease. I’m doomed no matter what. Physical therapy won’t do shit. If I’m gonna lose my arms, then I’m gonna do what I love until I can’t anymore.”

Hongjoong’s resolve is strong, even through the weakness he’s showing right now, and you can’t blame him. His behavior makes sense now. The hatred and disdain for you, the ego and arrogant nature about him, the flaunting of his skills – it was all just an attempt to hide the fact that he was breaking inside.

“Then you’re robbing yourself of an opportunity… you never know if something is going to work unless you try, Hongjoong. Even if you’re not a miracle patient who gets cured out of the blue, just trying could give you the ability to play longer. Not because you need to be the best or play better than everyone else or even play at a high level. But because it’s something that you love. And at least having the ability to do something you love is better than losing it altogether.”

Hongjoong doesn’t respond to your words. His tears aren’t slowing down, and you wonder if he’s in any pain in this very moment. His shoulders tremble but because of the sobs that wrack his hunched form. As you cradle him against your chest, you can’t help but look down at your own hands. Your fingers are trembling against Hongjoong’s back. In that brief moment, you imagine yourself in his shoes.

The first sear of pain through your arms. The continued abuse over weeks. Finally going to see a doctor. Being told that it’s a disease. That the longer you play, the worse it will get. That eventually you’ll lose the use of your arms completely. The dream you’ve had since you were a child – you wonder if it was Hongjoong’s dream too, before he was given the news. You wonder if Hongjoong had the same bright eyes and hopeful dreams of becoming something great, someone great. You imagine that dream being wrenched from your grasps. It hurts. Just the thought of it hurts more than a thousand knives in your chest.

All you can do is pull Hongjoong closer. There is nothing to say, nothing you can say or do that would make this any easier or better. You settle for this and press your cheek against his head.

…

The time has escaped you yet again, and you glance up from the keyboard to see that the clock reads six o’clock already. You wanted to get some rest in your apartment before nightfall hit because Wooyoung somehow managed to drag your ass out for another party even after what happened last time.

You push the bench back and close the lid of the keyboard. Your fingers linger on the wood, however, and you look at the instrument with a strange tightness in your chest.

It’s been three weeks since that competition. Three weeks since you’ve seen Hongjoong. He hasn’t attended class, you haven’t seen him in the practice hall or rooms at any point in time, it’s almost as though he disappeared off the face of the planet. You hate it. Class is too silent. It’s boring. Without Hongjoong, you have nothing to do except think about when the class is going to be over. It’s almost funny how only now that he’s gone do you realize how much time you spent slaving over the mere thought of him.

During the first week, you watched the door and waited for Hongjoong’s blue head of hair to step through. You always had your snide remark at the ready: “Late for class? At least you bothered to show up this time.” Hongjoong never came though.

The second week you guessed where he might be. Thought about what happened in the aftermath of his meltdown at the competition. They took him to the hospital, forcibly prying him from your arms, and that was the last you saw of him.

And then the third week passed by, and you began to wonder if the damage to his arms had already been done. Even now as your thoughts are occupied by the thought of him and him alone, you wonder if that’s the case.

As you get to your feet, the door behind you slides open. The sound is almost silent, and if you had still been playing you wouldn’t have heard a thing. You whip around to face the intruder. You nearly don’t recognize the form standing before you. Formerly blue hair has been replaced with a bright red, and it’s only when you look at the man’s features that you recognize him. Your darting gaze flits down to his left hand. It’s wrapped in a white gauze, fingers loose and flexing in the wrap. A good sign, perhaps. At least the damage isn’t fully done yet.

“Ew, it’s you,” you say, trying to contain the smile that threatens to overtake your lips when you see Hongjoong.

“Wow.” Hongjoong glances around the practice room. There is something sad and longing in his eyes as he looks around. You open your mouth to say more, but he continues speaking without you having to ask. “I, uh, I dropped out.”

“You what?” You just about fall over upon hearing the news. It catches you so off-guard that you choke on the saliva lingering on the back of your tongue.

“I dropped out of the program.”

“Yo-You – but, but the program – you were one, you were one of the only ones to get – what?”

“I thought about what you said. I, um… Yea, I dropped out. Started doing general studies instead. Think I’m gonna go for a teaching degree. Maybe try to be a piano teacher one day.”

“Why?” You aren’t being very eloquent, but the shock is too strong for you to even think about putting together a coherent thought.

“I kept thinking about what you said. Robbing myself of an opportunity… losing something I love. I love the piano, and I love playing the piano more than anything. I can’t lose the ability to play it. That’s – That’s taking away a part of me I can’t lose. Without piano… I would be nothing. I’m not ready to lose it because of some stupid fucking disease that can kiss my ass.”

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s the last thing you expected to hear from Hongjoong, especially since he resolve to be the best regardless of what happens to him was so strong. He saves you the trouble of coming up with a reply.

“I started going to physical therapy. They started me out on some acupuncture treatments, then worked me up to doing strengthening exercises and range of motion exercises. We’re going to try some electrotherapy next but the doctor said I’m making really good progress.”

“R-Really? Hongjoong, that’s amazing. Honestly. That’s truly incredible. I’m so ha–”

“Thank you,” he interrupts. His gaze is on the floor, fist clenching here and there, and his tone is quiet. “Thank you for giving me my dream back.”

You don’t have time to think before Hongjoong is walking towards you. He catches you by surprise, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you against his chest without hesitation.

“You don’t need to thank me,” you murmur in response. Your arms drape over him, and hesitance fills your motions unlike his hasty ones. He is warm and soft under your touch, so unlike how he was that day of the competition – cold and stiff.

“I do. Please, I-I…”

Hongjoong doesn’t need to finish the thought, but you don’t need him to. You can guess what he might be trying to say. You aren’t sure you need to hear it or if you can handle it. Instead, you settle for this comfortable embrace. Hongjoong’s breath is hot against your throat, and curse you for thinking about it because it leads your thoughts in a bad direction. Hongjoong shifts his head closer to your neck, lips caressing the skin there that barely peaks out from under your collar.

“C-Can I…?”

“Yes,” you exhale when Hongjoong inches closer to your lips. He brushes over your skin with such a gentle touch that you wonder if it is actually real. He deepens the kiss a moment later, however, and presses against you with more fervor. Your lips slot together, warm filling your chest and gut. He guides you backwards as his hands find your hips. You gasp into Hongjoong’s mouth when your ass hits the lid of the piano. Hongjoong doesn’t seem to mind though. He uses it as an opportunity to press his tongue between your lips. That familiar taste of liquorice lingers there, and you smile into the kiss.

You let him take over, his tongue exploring your mouth with a newfound interest. It’s so different from your first time together; that time was filled with fervor and passion and arousal. This is slow, gentle, almost romantic. You can’t get enough of it. Each kiss leaves you wanting more, each lingering touch makes you want to take more, and when Hongjoong’s fingers hook around the back of your thighs, you moan into his open mouth. He lifts you with ease although you do worry for a split second about straining his arms. He dispels that worry with haste, propping you up on the lid of the piano without a care in the world.

His lips attack your neck next, pulling away from your mouth to leave a saccharine trail down your skin until he stops at the base of your throat. You bring a hand to his freshly red locks as he sucks at the skin there and roll your head to the side to give him better access. Your gaze flits down to the door he entered through, and the lock on the handle isn’t turned. You should be worried because being caught having sex on a damn Steinway would be atrocious, but Hongjoong pushes that to the side as well. Deft fingers work the buttons on your blouse apart and push the material back until you’re stripped of the shirt. He pops the clasp of your bra next and drops the lingerie to the floor. You bare your chest to him, ready for him to dive in and mark up your breasts in a similar manner but he doesn’t.

His hands instead go to the waistband of your skirt. He unhooks that button and zipper, tugging the material off of you as quickly as possible. All of a sudden you’re left only in your underwear. Hongjoong doesn’t let you stay nearly naked alone for long. He leans back to tug his own shirt off, then his pants are quick to follow. As the material drops, you catch sight of the prominent bulge in his underwear. Without thinking, you reach out and grab hold of his constrained member. He groans into your touch, hips automatically bucking forward from even the slightest touch. You don’t wait to dip your hand past the band of the underwear and take hold of his semihard member.

“Y-You’re the devil,” Hongjoong hisses out as you pump his cock ever so slowly. In response, you drag your thumb over his slit, collecting the precum there and using it to help you pump his cock with more ease. You release a small laugh as his hips thrust into your touch. The laugh is cut short when Hongjoong presses the palm of his hand against your core. “Something funny, princess?”

You can do nothing except gasp in response, back arching off the lip of the piano. Hongjoong must enjoy the sight before him because a low moan slips through. His free hand darts around your back and collapses the music stand atop the piano. He seems ready to move you up even higher on the piano, but you stop him with your hand.

“N-No, wait – I just, I want you to fuck me. That’s all.” Your hand slides across Hongjoong’s bare chest, leaving goosebumps in your wake, and Hongjoong nearly shivers. Your words seem incentive enough for him, however, and he dips down between your legs to tug your underwear off. His follow soon after; hardened cock finding freedom at last. You slide a bit further down the lid of the piano in efforts to get more comfortable. Hongjoong braces your hip with his left hand and the other goes to your dripping folds. You’re nearly wet enough to drip all over the floor, positioned carefully so that you don’t sully the piano any more than you are already.

He works you open with deft fingers, two pushing into with ease thanks to your wetness. He uses those fingers to scissor your heat open and stretch you. You moan under the touch. The loudness of your moans is a bit worrisome considering you’re still in public, so you try to conceal them at least with the back of your hand. The moment you try to cover your lips however, Hongjoong reaches up and tugs your hand back down to the piano. He covers your lips with his. The position lets you moan freely into his mouth until his fingers disappear from your heat altogether.

“F-Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Hongjoong hisses. He uses the juices of your arousal on his fingers to pump his cock a few more times before lining up with your tight hole. The stretch isn’t painful; quite the opposite really, but a high-pitched whine breaches your lips. Hongjoong hesitates halfway, eyes tracking your expression for any sign of discomfort. He only moves again when you nod. Once he’s completely buried in you, you expect hasty thrusts but they never come. You blink at Hongjoong, eyes wide in expectation.

He stares back at you with an unreadable expression. His brow has furrowed and he almost squints as he looks into your eyes. You open your mouth to ask if something is wrong, but he speaks before you get the chance.

“I wanna try… us.”

“You want to what?” You ask, taken aback by the sudden statement. It’s hardly a proper time to bring up a serious subject, but maybe it’s the best timing in the world. How are you supposed to know? It’s not as though you fuck people on the daily in a practice room atop a piano like this.

“I wanna take you out. Spend time with you. Go on dates. Be in a relationship. With you and only you.”

“You’re asking after you’ve fucked me twice now?”

“Haven’t fucked you the second time yet, actually.” Hongjoong winks at you, a smirk curling across his lips. “Is that a yes or no?”

“It’s a ‘ask me again after you’ve fucked me senseless’.”

“I’d rather have your senses intact when I ask you.”

“Yes, Kim Hongjoong. In case you didn’t notice, I’m a bit more than interested in you.”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t tell when I was… you know, in you.”

“Shut up and fuck me already!” You protest, slapping his chest with the back of your hand. Hongjoong pulls his hips back and snaps them back against you without warning. You release a strangled moan that quickly evolves into a whine at the sudden thrust.

“I’ll make the rules, princess.”

You nod hastily in reply and brace yourself against the pillow for Hongjoong’s next thrust. He goes slower this time though, taking his time with each thrust, and you know he’s only doing it to rile you up because of the cheeky grin on his face. You want to either kiss or slap it off him, but he makes you choose the former by pushing forward. Your lips slot together with ease. It’s comfortable, easy, relaxed – like you’ve done it a thousand times and will do it a thousand more.

His thrusts do pick up in pace after that, his tongue entering the mix as well as he pries your lips open with the wet muscle. You allow yourself just let go under Hongjoong’s touch. You drape an arm over Hongjoong’s shoulder, nails raking down his back as he fucks you with reckless abandon. The angle is near magical because each thrust seems to hit deeper than the last, and your moans are borderline shouts of pleasure. Hongjoong doesn’t let up once. You’re glad for it because you’re pretty certain that if he does stop, you’ll slip off the piano entirely.  

Your head falls back, lips disconnecting from Hongjoong’s, and you struggle to stay upright with the way his cock rams against your sensitive g-spot. An orgasm is approaching quickly. You can’t manage to get any words out, but Hongjoong seems to understand when you drag a hand to his shoulder and squeeze tightly. Your walls clench around his member without warning. Hongjoong’s thrusts stutter as you squeeze his cock, then he reaches up to pull your face back to his.

“Ca-Can I cum in you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck yes. Please. Please, Hongjoong.” The man presses his lips against yours after you get the words out. You can’t hold the orgasm back any longer, and it washes over you with a sudden intensity that leaves you trembling in Hongjoong’s arms. He joins you not long after, hot seed spilling into you, and you moan at the sensation of his cum filling you up. He hunches forward and his head hits your shoulder. Both your chests heave from the exertion; you can’t seem to get enough air in your lungs. Gently you bring a hand to Hongjoong’s hair again and comb through the red locks with light fingers. Hongjoong sighs into the touch, shivering as your nails brush over his scalp.

“So… is this when I take you to dinner or?” Hongjoong lifts his chin to look you in the eye. You roll your eyes ever so slightly as he grins. The hand in his hair moves to smack him upside the head.

“You’re supposed to do that before you fuck me.”

“Eh, I’ve never been one to do things in order like that.”

“Good thing you can fuck well then or else I might not want a date at all.” Hongjoong’s smirk morphs into a wide smile, and his nose scrunches up as he looks at you. You smile back at him then press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll take that date now though.”

“One specialty Kim Hongjoong date coming right up. Though you better be prepared to stay up late tonight.”

“And you better be able to keep up with me. Hopefully all those exercises they’re making you do can help.”

Hongjoong grumbles at your comment, pulling back from you with a pout on his lips.

“I’ve got great stamina, thank you very much.” Hongjoong pauses his sulking for a moment to wear a serious expression on his features. “I’m serious about this, you know. You aren’t just some… some quick fuck to me. You didn’t have to be nice to me or give me a chance or anything, especially with the way I’ve been treating you over the past two years. So, uh, yea. Yea, I’m serious.”

You cup Hongjoong’s cheek gently and pass him a small smile before leaning your forehead against his.

“I believe you. And it’s not like I was any kinder to you. But if this is a chance to make things right, then let’s do it.”

“Y-Yea, yea, you’re right.”

“Now let’s get dressed before someone walks in on us like this. Then you can take me to dinner.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Hongjoong pulls away with a grin still on his lips. For a moment, you just sit there on the lid of the keyboard and watch him move around collecting articles of clothing. The warmth in your chest is foreign and unknown, but comfortable nonetheless. You never would have expected things to play out the way they did, but it was a happy accident and you want to bask in it for as long as possible. You slip off the lid of the ivories. The taste of liquorice is still on your tongue.

​​​☽     ☾

➻ requested by: @atinyinwonderland ➻ prompts:

“Ew, it’s you.” “Wow.”

“Eyes on me.”

this highkey turned into a Thing and idek how that happened but here we are aosidjfosijdfo also i did some research into PTS (parsonage-tanser syndrome) and it’s a rather rare disease apparently but this kinda issue with no longer being able to play piano and being forced to give up your dream kinda stemmed from my personal life and my sister and how i saw it impact her so it’s very real emotions and reader’s thoughts about being in hongjoong’s shoes are thoughts i’ve had myself and it truly is hard for me to even think about especially since music means so much to me but yea i cried while writing this, i hope you all enjoyed im going through it imma head out

[shellygurumi]

I have so many feelings about Ateez and wardrobe themes. Not just between their videos, like the Hala Hala uniform that showed up in Say My Name, Answer and so many others, but like... how individuals in the group have a running theme with their clothes. Like how Mingi always wears some kind of long coat or duster. Or the fact that Jongho is always in a suit, usually three piece suit.

It's kinda like how WooYoung is always around fire, right? Lighting matches and stuff. The fact that there are SO. MANY. THEMES. that come up in their videos and performances over and over... The fact that it's all meaningful too. It's all part of their lore and world building and story telling.

I love it and I love them!

[atinybitofau]

[PART 6] S A N ⇲ royal series au

RECAP: san is king of eden, you’re queen of elos under one nation along side 7 other lone kings. while the two jung brothers assist your coronation attendance list back in Elos. you’re formally invited to San’s kingdom. except it’s just you he wants.

• series masterlist •

⇩ PART SIX ⇩ , click me to read part five.

“3 Dukes.”

You face the emotionless Yunho with a pleading expression.

“You want 3 Dukes, 2 Barons, and 5 princes? Not a single King.” He repeats in annunciation.

You pout tugging at Yunho’s dress shirt, his fingers shaking as he held your hand-written invitations with distaste. “Oh come on, Yunho. They’re handsome, well rounded and rich at most.”

“It pains me to know I can’t even refuse. A baron? Taking a place of a King? That’s ridiculous.”

You look to his brother who was mindlessly eye candying one of your hand maidens. “Woo-ah, you’ll approve, yes?”

“What?” he blankly stares at you unsure of the right answer. “Of course?” Yunho barks a stern hard glare at his younger brother. “N-no. NO absolutely not. I detest!” Wooyoung concedes right after.

Your lips form a straight line before you’re begging at Yunho’s side yet again. “But Baron Chan is so handsome and so well fit! I met him once on my travels and he fights aside their Kingdoms soldiers as well. Don’t tell me that’s refutable.”

“Oh it is.” Yunho quickly prevails. “How could a patron be allowed to fight at war?”

You huff now crossing your arms over your chest in disapproval. “Jongho fights his wars. Song Mingi too. Your own brother? Tell me what’s so wrong with a Baron.”

Yunho points at the invitations with his long fingers. “A Baron makes decisions for his King. If he fights wars for them, he lives his life poorly— what more if we give him a crown on his head.”

You fail to find a plausible defense.

“I promised you I wouldn’t show my intention with deciding who shows up to your coronation, but lord knows I despise your decisions.” He seals your invitations with obvious rage but places them untouched in the sending bill. “I assure you no funny business will go down during your coronation celebration, Queen y/n. That is my demand.”

“Yes, King Yunho.” You playfully cuddle into his arms and he sighs at your revelling touch.

“But know Seonghwa may not be happy with your decision. Your father passed with our promise to guide you,” Yunho leans in, taking you as the warm heart you are. “But I also made a promise to do what I seek right for you, y/n. And if making you happy means losing my interests, so be it.”

“You spoil me, King Jung.”

Wooyoung wiggles his eyebrows. “Now posh posh with the bloody invitations. We shall find the material for your dress!”

You eagerly run towards the handsome Jung brother who takes you by the arm smoothly, his sex appeal none other. He’s always been the most mischevious of the two and maybe why you were always ecstatic to play with him. He may be too much for his own good but never for you. You walk side by side towards the seamstresses when you’re suddenly bombarded by a crowd of marching soldiers.

“Is it just me or am I seeing a hoard of knights in your corridor?” Wooyoung leans in to whisper.

“No.. I think I see them too..”

In your castle?

“By order of King San, we present ourselves honorably to you, future Queen of Elos— your grace.”

They bow in unison, something of stage presence always being a strong suit not only in San’s kingdom but his almighty troop. You raise a skeptical eyebrow glancing to Wooyoung whose normally fun tempered state was infiltrated by nobility. He bows his head once towards the soldier but the man waits for your call.

“I’m sure this is important.” Wooyoung clears his throat. “Considering you managed to slither through Princess y/n’s own kingdom guards.”

The man who bears the colors of San’s prideful kingdom lifts off his bronze helmet in respect. “King San has requested Elos’ future queen to his castle at once. For matters undisclosed.”

“Any hints?” You’re wondering why your lonesome in the distress call. “Eden is okay.. I’m hoping.”

“The Kingdom bears no misfortune though it seems King San feels otherwise.” He glances at Gyro’s King Wooyoung beside you with careful eyes. “He’s only requested you, Princess.”

You sigh to yourself mumbling incoherently, “He knows my coronation is in three days.”

“He will return to Elos with you bidding dusk tomorrow. King San insists it’s urgent.”

Wooyoung tugs at your dress, leaning his lips to your ear in private. “I cannot plead no, y/n. This is completely your decision. In treaty, we mustn’t interfere in other kingdoms affairs. Nor demonstrate personal judgement.”

How bad can you going be? It’s not like San could kill you that easily.

“I’ll be accompanied by my soldiers. I refuse to make a bargain. I hope that idea had crossed his mind before sending you all here.”

The knight bows in place.

“Of course, your highness.“ He brings his legs together and firms a salute. “And we will do our best under your honor to accompany you with full effort.”

Wooyoung’s stunned behind you and well? You are too. “I’m sure that’s merely to accommodate.”

With an odd glint in his eye, he hoods the lids of them before answering, “King San has made it clear to take great lengths to protect you, your highness. With full effort and nothing less.”

Wooyoung snickers beside you making your clueless mind drift more.

“It looks like King Song has some competition.”

“What was that?” Unclear in your ears, you hiss at Wooyoung to repeat his statement again.

“You must get ready for your departure, Princess.” Wooyoung bows briefly towards San’s kingdom’s men before bowing back to you. “I’ll inform the third party of the situation and I’ll make sure nothing goes wrong in midst of your absence. Let’s just try to make sure you’re back in one piece.”

You don’t miss the sneaky wink the conniving little Jung brother sends you.

“You’re despicable, King Wooyoung.” You wave him away not before you ask him a favor. “Please. Let’s try to keep things under control..”

Wooyoung notes the color in your eyes. The difference it made when being indirect. You’ve never been one to keep secrets and this one was a little odd for you to keep. Especially in the likes of Park Seonghwa and Wooyoung’s own brother.

Maybe there was something about Choi San that Wooyoung never understood. But if the little girl Wooyoung remembers trusts a man like him of his history? Maybe he’s got have faith in San a little bit. There’s gotta be something deeper than just the greed for power he’s forced to believe.

“You have my word, Queen y/n.”

He salutes you playfully before skipping towards the library where Yunho last was— probably going to reenact every bloody thing that happened in the wrong connotation.

Shaking your head with small hope, you face San’s men again.

“Let me quickly change my attire and pack some things before we set for Eden.”

You think of San again.

How clever of him to invite you in such a grand manner. It’s almost touching. You now find yourself sitting in a carriage for four hours until you arrive to San’s Kingdom with heavy nervousness. Regardless of not knowing why you were being summoned, you’re ushered into a beautiful Kingdom with beautiful people being welcomed for nothing at all.

You see San, in a glorious light, staring out at the beautiful view of his kingdom and stampeding horses on a summer’s noon. The weather here was warm and humid and the air was always busy with sound— human and nature combined. He gets to see nature’s beauty everyday. Maybe why he never cares the time to indulge it the way you do. Not when he gets the chance more than what’s granted to you.

His hair is midnight black under the orange rays of the sun, uniform clothes red and indigo. His men and female counterparts visibly held him in the highest regard, their smiles showing that they felt no distress in the illiberal rule of their King. He seemed humble, softly smiling at what his subordinates had been saying— leaning against the wooden fences to brush through a stallion’s mane.

This was Choi San in his home. Where he felt most comfortable, most safe. What was more entrancing is that watching him smile made you feel oddly at home too.

You’re spun off your thoughts when escorted by hand to San and curtsy in his charming presence.

“I’ve been requested?”

@atinybitofau

[wooyoungqueen]

Title: A deal with the devil

Ch.6

Warnings: very sad.

Tagging: @rosegaming117 ,@leaderienugie @svteeez @immortal-imagination @little-precious-baby @pastelpinkelfie @spacepiratehongjoong @k-pop-with-honey-and-some-suga

The next morning, I saw my new school uniform in my bed and a note from my brother and I sigh and went to the restroom and got ready than I got dressed into it and put on the bracelet that wooyoung gave me, until I sent him a text but he’s number was in there until I went down and saw Soojin and San talking to a guy wearing a suit with a microphone in his ear and had black hair. Then when they told me that it would be my bodyguard I went to grab my bag and put on my shoes and ran out to the Jung house but the gate didn’t open at all. All I could think of is my life became a “prison”  and San, Soojin have the key. 

“I don’t want to go to this school. I really hate this.” “I’m sorry ms. Julia. I know how you feel when you have someone separate you from the person you love.” I looked at the maid and then she told me. “Keep being strong, especially don’t let Soojin win.” “Thank you, so much. I am going to get ready.” I showered, then dried my hair, and added a bit of make-up but not too much. Then I looked at my phone to see Wooyoung text messages but when I didn’t I frowned. “He always texts me in the morning, where his number is.  Oh hell no!”  “So, your name is Choi, Jongho right. Ah sister.” I caught my breath and I went over to my brother. “Why, why did you delete his number. He never did anything to you, wooyoung hasn’t done anything to you guys either.” “sis, calm down. Your shaking.” “all you do is control my life, I hate you.” I left running with tears in my eyes, then I looked at the gate with the lock and I just fell down to my knees, until my brother came to hug me. I wanted to push him away but I didn't.  “I haven’t seen you like this, since our parents death. I’m sorry that I slap you.” “You're making my life into a prison brother. What made you change, you were always smiling. We were a team of the choi siblings.” I sigh and then he tells me. “We all need to grow up, Julia. And we are a team still.” “no, no we’re not anymore. Just take me to school already.” I looked down and then saw the bracelet that wooyoung gave me. All I could do was remember his words. “I have a black one, the black and teal bracelet is for you my princess. I love you my Yulee.” “I love you too, Wooyoung.” “Lady Julia, my name is Choi, Jongho and i’m gonna take you to school and pick you up.” I got into the car and looked at a  picture of me and Wooyoung on my lock screen while he was driving me to school. Then I saw him but Jongho locked the doors. “Your brother told me to lock the doors. I’m following his orders, you should do the same Julia.” “wooyoung. My king my everything.” after a long silent ride. Jongho opened the door for me then I felt so small in a new school but I looked at the bracelet and kept my head held up high. Until I got stopped by three girls. But I fought them. “Is different from my old school, but I think I could manage.” “look ladies, a new student. Oh what a lovely bracelet mine now.” “You give that back, no one removes it from me.” I knocked one of them down and started to pull her hair and then I took the bracelet away from her hand, but the principal pulled us away. “really ladies, fighting in school. I should give you suspension. But Julia you're Choi San little sister. I give you a week of cleaning the halls. And you as well Hayoon. Here is the map Julia, now go to class.”

~ 

 I cleaned myself  in the girl restroom after I walked around to figure out the school and the map,  I got lost until two students, one girl had short blond hair and then another student had black hair and held a skateboard. Came over."Hey you, you look lost." "I am actually, I can't  find this one." I showed them the map and said. "We both have that class, we could meet  up at this spot and walk to it." "Thank you, my name is Choi, Julia." They smiled and told me their names. My name is Park, Maria. This is my friend  Kang Yeosang. It's nice to meet you, Choi  Julia." I smiled and we three talked while walking to our class than Yeosang  said. "By any chance do u know Jung wooyoung. " "He's  my boyfriend, say you have his number?" He smiled and nodded. " yeah here, what made u come here" I saved wooyoung phone number then told them. "My brother and his girlfriend moved me to separate our relationship and not only that he hired a guard to keep a watch out On me." "That's  horrible  and is okay Julia. We'll  help you out." "Really? I don't want you guys involved." I said but both hugged me. "We're  friends, friends stick together. No matter." I smiled and told them "thank you guys, you're amazing." 

[jonghours]

Favorite era for each member including styling, lines in songs and overall performance

Hongjoong: I think he shone the most during SMN era in terms of performance......... but WONDERLAND tho..

Seonghwa: also WONDERLAND, he was the one who suited the concept the most and seemed to be the protagonist in a way

Yunho: he’s always an amazing performer so going by styling and lines I would say ANSWER

Yeosang: this one is easy... INCEPTION/THANXX, however his part in ANSWER remains the best one imo

San: WONDERLAND is when even non fans started noticing him by his performance skills so it wins this round too! also the two-tone mullet remains my favorite

Mingi: TREASURE/Pirate King.. Mingi being introduced to the world Like That will forever overshadow any other concept, but his 2nd verse and styling in THANXX gets close

Wooyoung: I think that INCEPTION/THANXX styling and killing parts overshadow his previous ones

Jongho: I L O V E WONDERLAND!Jongho, they dressed him in those well-fitted uniforms that suited him so well and his “breaking the wall” part... chef kiss

[sugar-kisser]

Can I request a scenario where y/n is wooyoung’s little sister and yunho falls in love with her? I want her to be cool, bc most of the time y/n gets bullied on fanfics, but this time I want her to love video games, being the schools hip hop team captain and have a pretty strong personality , thanks, love your work💖💖💖🥰

Ah of course!! Thank you!

I also haven’t posted in a while because of writers block (which I’m still kind of trying to get over) and some personal issues (health wise) I’ve been dealing with. But I’m back and will be trying to write as much as I can! My Inbox is alway open for requests!

————

DUSK TILL DAWN

Weeks of preparation have finally lead up to tonight. One of the biggest nights of your high school career so far. If things go well tonight you would have more opportunities and even bigger nights to celebrate and compete in. 

“Is everyone ready?” You turn to your team, checking everyone’s uniforms once more and doing a quick head count. You take a deep breath, your nerves climbing up your spine like a bug crawling on your skin. You feel a hand rest on your shoulder and you turn to face your older brother, Wooyoung, who also is on your team.

“Y/N-ah, you got this,” he smiles, “we all do.” He motions to the rest of the team which you look over everyone once more before meeting your brother’s eyes again. You give him a reassuring smile and rest your hand onto of his.

“Are you sure you can make the landing?” You ask him, “you’ve been practicing all week and your knee’s are almost bruised with how much you’ve been doing it.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Wooyoung playfully scolds, “I mastered it yesterday and did it two more times after that just to be sure.” You bite down on your lips and nod your head.

You turn to face the stage and watch as the team in front of you finish their routine and bow to the judges. Your team is called out and you are handed a microphone, and you and the rest of your team head out of the stage. You all bow and you introduce your team and the song you will be dancing to. The judges wish you good luck, and you hand the microphone off to a stage hand. 

The song begins and you and your team move through the routine perfectly just as you have been practicing for seven weeks straight. The end of your dance is nearing and you are positioned in the back of your group watching everyone while dancing at the same time. You give a performance and make sure to never let anything falter. You watch your brother as he goes for his jump. He leaps into the air but you watch in horror as you notice that his feet are almost twisted.

He lands on his foot wrong and almost wails out but the lights cut as soon as he lands just as they are suppose too. You hurry over to your brother as the rest of the team does as well. 

“Everyone stand!” You whisper at everyone. You pull your brother up and he puts his weight onto you, but the two of you pull it off as side hugging each other. He pushes a smile onto his face and the lights come back on as everyone finishes clapping and cheering. You all bow to the judges once more and you help Wooyoung walk off stage. The team surrounds the two of you and you let him throw almost all his weight on you and you practically drag him backstage.

“Someone get a chair!” You yell. One of the older members grabs the closest one to him and swings it around and you set him down.

“Wooyoung,” you whine. You lift up his foot and he cries out in pain. You set his foot on your thigh and pull up the baggy pants and pull down his sock. His ankle is is quickly turning purple and swelling by the second. 

“Medic!” You call out and one quickly approaches us and quickly takes over and deals with Wooyoung’s ankle. You move over to his side and stand on your knees. You head resting on his shoulder, and his hand death gripping yours.

“I’m sorry,” Wooyoung huffs out then hissing in pain.

“Don’t be sorry,” you tell him, “we did great despite all of it. Now we just need this to heal.”

“No Y/N,” Wooyoung tells you, “I lied. I didn’t master the jump. Now I’ve ruined your chance for the other dance competition you wanted to do.”

“Wooyoung. I don’t care. You’re hurt. I don’t care about that competition,” you counter, slightly annoyed that you’re getting into an argument with your brother in front of your team and just getting into an argument in general. You two rarely argue and if you do it’s over something stupid.

“But that’s the competition with all the college scouters. You have to go. You want to dance,” Wooyoung tells you.

“Wooyoung. I. Do. Not. Care,” You tell him, trying to make it as clear as possible.

“Yunho!” Wooyoung calls to one of his friends. Yunho hurries from the back of the group to the other side of Wooyoung. “Take my spot in the next dance competition and compete with Y/N. She needs this competition to get into universities.”

“Wooyoung. Yunho. No. It’s honestly fine,” you try to stop the two of them.

“Y/N, I don’t mind. If you need a partner then I’ll be your partner,” Yunho tells you. You look up at him and ask him if he’s sure and he nods his head.

   And that’s how it all started. This next competition was a pairs only and you had to do a modern style with a twist of contemporary.

“Do you have any song picked out yet?” Yunho asks tossing his bag onto the floor walking up to you. You nod your head and plug in your phone to the room speakers and play Dusk Till Dawn by Zayn & SIA.

“I already have ideas for the beginning of the dance,” you tell Yunho. You explain what you wanted to do and Yunho listened along and made minor suggestions which you took some but rejected others as the song played in the background on repeat. You both suggest you do a slow run through of what you have in mind. The song still plays in repeat but you start singing out the lyrics and humming to the song so Yunho could put the movement to the beat.

Your body’s move slowly but in sync with each other. Your movements mirror each other but you face forward, not each other. You two eventually turn to face each other right before the lyrics “cause I want to touch you baby.” During this part Yunho does most of the movement and when needed he picks you up to make you ‘move’ as part of the choreography. Your character comes to life when SIA begins to sing and the two of you move in sync as if you both are in love. Which is the story you want to tell- two people in love but only allowed to be together from dusk to dawn.

After three hours of practicing all your clothes are stuck to your skin, and sweat dripping down your face and arms. Your hair stuck to your forehead and neck.

“We’ll pick this up tomorrow. We can practice till we have this perfect before moving onto the next part,” you tell him. He nods his head and you two grab your things before heading out towards the parking lot.

“Wooyoung not here?” Yunho asks looking around the empty parking lot.

“My mom doesn’t want him driving with his bad ankle. I guess my mom forgot that I had practice today,” you answer looking around the lot, entrance, and exit towards the busy streets for your mother’s car.

“I can take you home if you need,” Yunho offers pulling out his car keys.

“Oh you don’t have to I can call my mom,” you hurriedly and explain to him.

“It’s really fine. Plus it gives me an excuse to go bug Wooyoung,” Yunho chuckles as he begins walking to his car, you hot on his tail. He drives the two of you to your house and you walk in, Yunho following in suit.

“He’s in his room. You know where that is,” you point up the stairs. Yunho thanks you and you both separate. You head into the kitchen where your mother sits at her computer typing away. You clear your throat to get her attention.

“Oh! Y/N? When did you get home?” You mother exclaims startled.

“Just now. Yunho brought me home and is seeing Wooyoung,” you explain

“That’s sweet of him to do,” you mother smiles before returning to whatever she seems to be doing so you clear your throat again.

“Yes?” Your mother asks her eyes never tearing away from the computer screen.

“You forgot to pick me up today. Wooyoung and I both told you,” you tell her.

“Oh I must of completely forgot-“

“Clearly,” you mutter.

“What was that?” you mother asks, her eyes still on her computer scream.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you tell her before leaving the room and heading upstairs. You head into the bathroom and shower off all the sweat and wash your hair and face before wrapping yourself in a towel. You open the door to the bathroom and almost run into someone.

“Yah! Wooyoung!” you snap, but when you look up you see a red faced Yunho staring right back at you. Your eyes widen and you immediately look away and hold your towel lighter.

“I swear I didn’t know you were in there. I hope this doesn’t look as bad as it does,” Yunho rambleson quickly.

“It’s fine. Whatever. I just need to get to my room,” You squeeze past the giant and hurry off into your room, closing the door and locking it behind you. Yunho watches, his face still a hot red. He enters into the bathroom and splashes his face with water, complete forgetting he even needed to use the toilet.

Your back leans against the door and you slide down and take a deep breath before exhaling. You push yourself off the floor and change into comfier clothing and brush out your wet hair and exiting the room like nothing happened. You head into your brothers room, Yunho know where in sight.

“Where’s Yunho?” You ask Wooyoung who sits on his bed, gaming head set on his head and controller in his hand.

“He just left. Said he had to be somewhere,” Wooyoung answers not looking back from the tv as his hand move the control sticks around and hit the buttons,” Damn!” Wooyoung grumbles, his character dying once again in the video game, “Y/N can you get me pass this level?” Wooyoung hands the remote over to you. You glad take it from him and sit next to him on the bed. You restart the game and you quickly begin punch buttons and moving the controls around and before you know it you’ve completed the level.

“How- What the- Y/N!” Wooyoung calls after you as you toss the remote back onto his lap.

“I’ve already played this game, bro. Catch up,” you laugh as you jump off his bed and leave his room.

      Over the next three and a half weeks you and Yunho practice your dance, adding more and more to the dance till it was complete as well as perfecting it.

“This feels all wrong!” You stress as you stop in the middle of the choreography. Every since your encounter with Yunho things felt a little off but you push it aside and focus on the dance.

“Yunho we have four days. Everything seems so wrong. The emotions, the fluency, everything!” You yells. Your hands rake through your hair and pull at the roots.

“You’re over stressing yourself Y/N,” Yunho tells you calmly, “you need to relax. Everything seems perfectly fine.”

“Perfectly fine isn’t perfect Yunho!” You yell at him. Yunho’s eyes widen and he steps back. The two of you stare at each other for almost a minute. A minute which felt like an eternity. But you break down into tears. 

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Yunho hurries over to you and hugs you, “don’t cry. You’re just extremely stressed. This is a big competition.”

“But what if no scouter wants to take me? What if all of our hard work doesn’t give us what we deserve,” you choke on your tears, small hiccups beginning. Yunho rubs your back and you calm down and compose yourself over the next couple minutes. When Yunho lets go of you he heads towards his bag and picks up not only his but yours.

“What are we doing? We still have an hour or practice left,” you ask him as you wipe away the last of your tears.

“We are taking a break for the day. Come on. I have an idea,” Yunho tells you holding out your bag. You contemplate whether you should go with him or continue to practice because it’s four days away. But this is all you have done for the past few weeks… maybe you need a breather. It almost feels just like the movies, where everything in the end works out, sometimes it doesn’t. That’s what’s holding you down. You should practice, you know you should.

“Don’t tell me we need to practice. We can take one hour off today,” Yunho tells you, reading your mind. You pull your lips to a thin line before grabbing your bag, your phone from the speakers, and following him out of the dance room and towards the parking lot. You climb into Yunho’s car and he starts the engine and pulls out of the parking space, heading towards and all familiar place you know. The Arcade.

“Wooyoung never stops telling us about how much you love video games and how good you are at them,” Yunho tells you as he pulls into a parking spot. He steps out the car to let you change into comfier, clean clothing. He waits for you to step out of the car for him to go back in to change as well. You wait for the tall boy and when he steps out again the two of you head inside the large building.

“Play any game you want; it’s on me,” Yunho tells you.

“But I’ll feel bad for spending your money like that,” you tell him.

“Fine. How about we have a competition. Who ever loses the most games buys dinner and dessert,” Yunho proposes. You smirk at the tall boy before shaking his hand in a deal agreement, and you two race off to the first game you guys agree to play.

You two play for hours straight, sharing laughs and telling stories. You would point to just about every single game and tell Yunho how you beat Wooyoung or something stupid he did causing you to win. You also told him how even as a child you could always beat him at any game he introduced to you.

“He must suck at playing games,” Yunho laughs as you point to one of the easiest games in the arcade.

“He’s really good, he just gets cocky and hot headed,” you laugh along with him.

“We have one more game to play. This game will be worth 5 points,” Yunho tells you. Currently the score is 13-9, with you in the lead of course. Yunho leads you over to the dance machine and you almost laugh in embarrassment.

“You want our last game to be a dancing game?” You ask him.

“We both love to dance. This will be able to tell who is the better dancer,” Yunho clarifies proudly as if he is a genius who came up with the most brilliant explanation.

“Are you trying to say you’re a better dancer than me?” You cock your eyebrow at the boy. Yunho just smirks right back before putting in the tokens, hitting the random button, and placing both players on hard.

“Ready to lose?” Yunho asks.

“In your dreams,” you laugh at him. The song begins and the two of you are off, hitting every dance move perfectly. You both are laughing and enjoying your time causing everyone around you to notice the fierce competition and a small crowd begins. Towards the end of the song you take the leading score and finish strongly and with another set of 5 points, declaring you the winner of the arcade games.

“You won,” Yunho admits while catching his breath, “fair and square. Looks like I’m buying dinner and dessert.” The two of you leave and Yunho drives to the nearest diner and you two take a booth in the back.

“Today was really fun,” you tell Yunho after the two of you order, “I really needed that. Thank you Yunho.”

“Anytime. Really. I’m glad you had fun,” he smiles, “I did too. Took my mind off a bunch of things.”

“Is that why you’ve been out of it lately?” You ask him, “you haven’t seemed like yourself in a few weeks.”

“Just a lot on my mind. Most importantly I don’t want to let you down for this competition,” Yunho answers. You open your mouth to respond to him but your waitress comes over to your table with the two milkshakes you both ordered. You two thank her and when she walks away you clap excitedly before taking a sip of the oreo shake. 

“You excited there?” Yunho laughs, teasing you.

“Yes I am. Thank you very much,” you admit with pride before taking another sip. Yunho quietly laughs before taking a sip of his own shake. All of the awkward tension that had been present the past few weeks disappear. After Yunho saw you in just a towel he felt like he had invaded your privacy and didn’t want you to think he was some creep. So he kept his distance despite also having to dance with you. Especially dance close to you.

The rest of dinner went by normally. You and Yunho continued to talk about all the different games you play and even made a plan to game together once the competition was over just to see how good you really are. You both also share stories of pulling pranks on your brothers and how much trouble you would get into.

You couldn’t help but notice that Yunho has such a contagious laugh and smile and the way his eyes light up telling a fond memory had you feeling some type of way. It wasn’t butterflies nor was it a bad feeling. It’s like the feeling when you finally mastered something you’ve been working at or when you finally finished something that has taken you so long to complete. It’s like a euphoric happiness. You would almost describe him as a happy virus that just radiates off his energy to everyone. 

After dinner Yunho drives you back to your house and he walks you up to the door and you both face each other for a couple seconds, neither one of you two saying anything.

“I- uh- I had a great time today,” you start, awkwardly stuttering, “thank you again Yunho.”

“Yeah. Anytime. Really,” Yunho smiles looking down at the ground and back up at you. You mumble a goodnight with a goofy smile still plastered against your lips. 

“Wait,” Yunho tells you, grabbing your free hand as the other rests on the doorknob. You turn around to face the tall boy once more.

“I-,” Yunho starts, “I need to tell you something.” You turn completely towards him, letting go of the door handle completely. You give him your full attention, but he is at loss for words as he stares into your eyes.

“I-“

“Hey, hey, hey!” Wooyoung calls as he opens the door, “what are you doing! Get your hands off my sister.” Wooyoung shoo’s Yunho away from you. You completely oblivious you were still holding Yunho’s hand.

“Wooyoung!” You whine, punching him in the shoulder, “I’m sorry Yunho. What were you going to say?”

“It’s nothing,” Yunho smiles, “it can wait. I’ll see you tomorrow?” You smile back and nod in response and you watch him head to his car and leave. After he’s out of sight you turn to your brother again and hit him once more.

“Hey! What was that for!” Wooyoung yelps.

“You ruined a possibly good moment for me!” You grumble walking into the house leaving your older brother at the door. He closes the door and hobbles on his good foot after you.

“He doesn’t need to be holding your hand!” Wooyoung calls out after you.

“What if I want him to!” You turn around to face Wooyoung and he almost stumbles into you.

“You’re not allowed to date,” Wooyoung scolds, “you don’t need distractions, let alone a boy. You know we’re stupid right?”

“You’re stupid. Yunho isn’t,” you mumble the last part.

“You cannot have a crush on him,” Wooyoung tells you.

“What are you gonna do about it,” you challenge him. Wooyoung pulls his lips to a thin line and huffs, knowing he can’t control your life. But all he wants to do is look out for you. Although Yunho is his friend he doesn’t want any chance of a stupid high school boy to break your heart. 

You stare him down just a little longer before pushing past him and heading to your room. You jump onto your bed and stare at the ceiling thinking about Yunho and the events of your day together. From dancing, to starting to actually feel overstressed, to having a slight breakdown, to playing arcade games, to having dinner together. It felt almost like a date, but you two are just friends. But you can’t help wonder what Yunho was going to say to you before Wooyoung decided to be the annoying overprotective brother.

       The four days pass in a blur and now you’re standing back stage in front of a mirror lined with lights, getting your make-up done for the performance. Wooyoung had came back stage to wish you good luck and that there were plenty of scouters in the crowd awaiting for the performances. 

Your heart is racing beyond belief but you control yourself with your breathing, taking it slow and easy to maintain composure.

Yunho comes out of the dressing room in his uniform just as your make-up finishes and the last of your hair is pinned up to keep out of your face. You stand up and pat down your simple grey dress.

“You look stunning,” Yunho smiles walking up to you grabbing your hand and making you twirl.

“Not so bad yourself Mr. Jeong,” you respond to him, patting his chest with your free hand.

“You are wearing short underneath the dress, yes?” Yunho asks, double-checking.

“Yes mom,” you answer him jokingly before breaking into a little smile, him following in suit. You grab his hand and pull him to the side of the stage to watch the other performers.

In no time it’s your turn to head onto the stage. Yunho follows you and the lights dim down and the two of you stand in your beginning positions, awaiting for the song to start. Yunho sneaks one last smile towards you before the music begins and the two of you begin your routine.

Something about this performance feels different than all of the times practicing or running through the entire choreography. You feel as if the story is true between you two. The passion almost feels so real and it’s like you connect to the story itself. The way you two carry your performance and the way you two dance together and the passion you each share shows in such bright vivid colors.

When the song ends, Yunho sets you down as you two finish with an extremely close dance position. You two smile and bow to the judges and crowd as they cheer and scream. Yunho pulls you off the stage and other performers clap for you and tell you how amazing the dance performance was. Now all you have to do is await for the winners of the competition.

“Would you be upset if we don’t win?” Yunho asks you as the judges tally up all their votes and the contestants wait back stage.

“Everyone’s performances were amazing,” you start, “not saying ours wasn’t because it was absolutely amazing. But if the judges think that other dances did better then all I have to do is respect their decision.”

“How very wise of you,” Yunho responds before leaning close to your ear to whisper, “I know you want to win, I’m not dumb.” You bit your lips holding in your laughter as Yunho could see right through your little speech.

“All contestants on stage!” One of the stage hands calls out to the performers. You all make your way to the stage, and the judges tell each pair of their strengths and parts of the dances that really stood out. 

“Ms. Jung and Mr. Jeong,” the female judge reads, “your performance was absolutely one of my favorite ones I have seen in such a long time since I’ve been judging this annual competition. The passion you two carry for each other really brought the story to life. The movement conveyed such a strong feeling and created a bond between the two of you. It seems like no one could break what you two have. It was truly beautiful.” You both thank her with big grins on your faces.

After the judges finished the remaining performers evaluations the special guest judge stood up to read off the winner of the competition. You grab Yunho’s hand and hold it tight as you wait with anticipation for the winners to be read off.

“And the winner of this years competition is… Ms. Jung and Mr. Jeong Dusk Till Dawn!” The judge speaks into the microphone. The crowd cheers loudly and your mouth gapes open and your other hand covers it. Tears of happiness well in your eyes and you turn to hug Yunho. You could hear him chanting ‘we did it’ over and over again. The sounds of confetti canons fire, startling you both and the judges walk on stage and present you with your trophy and two necklaces of flowers.

The crowd cheers and Yunho and you turn out to see everyone and you guys bow and wave at everyone. Yunho grabs your hand and pulls you to face him.

“Y/N what I wanted to say the other night is that I like you. I always have but I was afraid to say anything with Wooyoung been your brother and my friend. But after this competition with you there’s no way I can hide these feelings when they’ve grown so strong,” Yunho rants. You bite down on your lips, but break into the biggest smile.

“Yunho, I like you too,” you tell him causing him to smile as well.

“Good,” Yunho grins, placing both his hands on your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours in a soft sweet kiss. 

[eightinyz]

3. Painful Revenge ↦ Choi San Mafia!au

 Pairing: Choi San x Reader (female)

Genre: angst, mafia!au (non celeb)

Warnings: some swearing, violence, mention of death.

Words: 2,6k

Summary: You’re a young law student who are happily dating the handsome San. Everything seemed to go perfectly well, until his 20th birthday.

A/N: So first of all, thank you for your love for this series! Seriously, I get so many private messages and anons, it’s heartwarming.

There is not much of the boys in this part, but don’t worry, they’ll be present in the next.

I’m not sure about a lawyer’s and a prosecutor’s studies in South Korea, so I’m going to write according to my country. If anyone has any idea, please let me know!

And, I’m not a native english speaker but according to my researches, we can call attorney both prosecutors and lawyers, right? Please enlighten me if you know!

I know those law things actually take pretty long, like the courts etc, but I will maybe shorten them for the sake of the au. And it’s just fiction so I think things have to be a little spiced up.

I truly don’t like to write Y/N, Y/L/N etc., but it’s sometimes needed, so I’m gonna have to deal with it.

I did take inspiration from the kdrama, Suspicious Partner. Go watch it if you didn’t, it’s really good!

Lastly, hope you’ll enjoy it! I’m going to try to post more regularly now, since I feel a lot better.

I 2 I    

“Attorney Y/L/N.”, the young assistant called from the end of the hallway, “There is a new addition to those mysterious murder cases.”

Oh, here we go again.

You sighed, “Thank you, I’ll try to read it during my break. See you.”, you took the file from his hand, quickly bowed your head then headed to your car.

After coming back from England six months ago, you were excited to finally be able to exercise your profession in your home country. Although, you didn’t think you’d be given this very important case right after your arrival. Finishing your studies in a very prestigious British university, as well as having incredible grades might have helped you enter this well-known Prosecutors’ Office. Almost five years since you left everything behind. But it still feels good to be back home.

“Good Morning! Prince Charming is waiting for you in the corner, darling. At your regular place.”, the elderly woman smiled upon your arrival.

“Thank you, Mrs. Park.”, you patted her shoulder, smiling warmly.

“Hey, babe.”, Jiwook greeted you with a quick kiss, “How are you doing?”

“Already tired. There was another murder.”, you sighed, yet again. “I think I’m going to work ‘till late at night tonight.” Jiwook squeezed your hand, giving you a knowing smile.

Jiwook and you met at the university you went in England; he had also left the country around the same time as you and you ended up in the same school. He was three years older than you and was now a well qualified prosecutor. Occasionally with specs on his nose, a casual suit covering his muscular body, he was the man everyone dreamed to have along their side. But more than his looks, he was a sweetheart. He was nice, polite, gentle, funny. Your perfect boyfriend.

Your lunch was, as always, filled with laughter and loving smiles. Jiwook would always do his best to make you laugh and help you forget, even only for a few minutes, your stressful job. Working in the same field, he knew how some cases could affect you, mentally but also physically.

“I have to go, I have a thirty-page file to read, and not in font size twenty. Unfortunately.”, you joked, picking up your belongings. “I’ll try to text you throughout the day, yeah?”, kissing him goodbye, you went back to the Office.

“I don’t understand. I-He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t. He was an amazing husband, an amazing father.”, a woman cried to your colleague. She might be the wife of one of the men who got murdered. “Please find them, I’m begging you.”

The series of murders approximatively started over six years ago; at least, that was what you all thought from the little infos you’ve got. At the beginning, the murders were scattered, making it hard to connect them. But over the years, they got closer and were, indeed, connected. The victims were men, mostly in their forties, all once part of a gang, apparently. Well, when the police questioned their entourage, they all appeared as role models. Incredible husbands, friends, fathers. Nothing that seemed out of ordinary. But, when they searched deeply, they found a common thing. They were all in touch or they all knew a member of a well known gang. His gang. The Pirates.

Everything pointed at them. They had a reason to kill those men. Maybe they were scared they’ll reveal something about the said gang? Well, whatever it was, they were the suspect number one. But, they weren’t any material evidences. Which meant that the only way to catch them was that one of them spit everything out; the murders, the reasons, etc. It wasn’t going to be easy. 

People said that it might just be a coincidence. But you knew better not to believe these speculations. Everything always ended up being connected. And now that you knew they were firmly pointed, you were even more ready to put them behind the bars. You body was full on hatred towards them; they had to pay.

“Y/N, did you read the file? I had asked the assistant to give it to you.”, Chaeyoung entered your shared office, sitting down to her desk.

“Yeah, I just finished it. It’s the same.”, you stated. “A deep clean cut on the throat, then the body’s thrown in a ditch...”

    “Seoul Metropolitan Police.”, one of the uniformed police officer declared showing his badge. He cleared his throat then continued, after giving a knowing look to his co-worker.  “We’re sorry to wake you this late, but,”, he paused, “could we enter? I think it would be better.”

“Just say it.”, your mother shakily breathed out. “What happened?”

The officers shared a look. “Is Mr. Y/L/N your husband, miss?”, one of them asked.

“Yes, he’s my father. Could you please tell us what’s going on? Did he drink too much again and ended up being a nuisance? I’m so sorry abo-”, you got cut of.

“It’s not that, miss.”, he inhaled deeply and continued. “We found him.”

The other officer took the lead when he saw that his younger colleague was having some difficulties. “I’m extremely sorry to announce it to you, but your father was found dead.”

    “Y/N! Hey, I’ve lost you, yet again.”, Chaeyoung laughed. “You should ask for some days off maybe? You look a little tired lately.”

“Is that you’re way to say I look like shit?”, you joked.

“You said it.”, she put her hands up in defense, giggling.

You laughed at her antics, “It’s just this case. It gets worse, and I feel helpless.”

“The police are investigating, you know. They’re working hard. And apparently, they are on someone. A certain,”, she went through her files, “Jung Woojin.”

“Jung Woojin.”, you repeated. The name sounded familiar.

“Again, apparently, he’s part of this gang.”

Oh. There it is. You did hear this name before. Jung Wooyoung’s older brother, Jung Woojin.

You shook your head, “Whatever. I’m going to visit my mom before going home.” You quickly tidied your desk, not forgetting to take with you the documents you had to work on. “Need anything?”, you asked grabbing your bag.

“Nope, say hello to her from me. And please, rest well, see you tomorrow.”, Chaeyoung smiled warmly, waving you goodbye.

“No worries, bye.”, you waved back, heading to your car.

Cheayoung was always like that; smiley, warm, bubbly. You sometimes felt like you didn’t give enough in return. She would always look after you, asking you if you slept well, if you had breakfast, and so on. Besides, she has to deal with your numerous mood changes. She was a good friend. 

You quickly arrived to your mother’s apartment that was in the periphery of the city. Doing the door code, you entered calmly, the warmth of the inside hitting you.

“Hi, Y/N.”, your mother’s nurse, Eunha, greeted you, coming out of the kitchen.

“Hey, how are you doing?”, you smiled up to her while you took of your shoes at the entry.

“Good, what about you?”

“Just a little tired. Is she asleep?”, you hanged your coat before heading to the living room. Your mother was normally in there, unless when she was sleeping.

“Yes, she’s taking a nap. She was complaining about a weak stomach and nausea earlier, so I gave her her meds. It knocked her out.”, Eunha explained. “But I think she’ll be up soon. You want some tea?”, she went back to the kitchen after your positive answer.

Your mother suffered from a rare disease that required constant nursing now. At the beginning, it only affected her muscles. Some cramps here and there, from time to time. But over the years, it started to propagate to her organs. She mostly suffered from stomach pain, and other digestive problems. Now, she needed the help of a caregiver, her muscle pains sometimes being unbearable. Eunha was a young sweet woman who willingly took care of your mother since you got back to your home country. She helped her to shower, to cook, and so on. Your mother wasn’t fully bedridden, yet; she still managed to do simple tasks.

“Are you staying for dinner?”, Eunha put your cup of tea on the coffee table and sat down beside you on the couch.

“I’m not sure, I’m really tired.”, you yawned. “But I want to see her so I’ll probably stay until she wakes up.”, you brought the hot tea to your lips, slowly drinking the beverage. 

“We cooked some sujebi, the way you like it, she said.”, Eunha tried to convince you stay, her lips slowly curling up. 

You laughed, “You sound like my mom. She would always persuade me with food.”

“She trained me.”, Eunha giggling. “She told me that bringing the notion of food in the conversation whenever we get opposite thoughts with you helps changing your mind. Just wanted to test the authenticity of her statement, not that I ever doubted her.”, she laughed raising her hand up defensively.

Eunha was a joyful person. She was a couple of years older than you, in her late twenties, but she probably looked younger than you; her bubbly personality and her sometimes childlike actions hiding the reality. She was kind of like Chaeyoung. 

You used to be like that. Carefree. You only cared about yourself, your family, your friends, your dog, and your boyfriend. But, you matured. Well, it was what you wanted to believe, what you always told yourself. In reality, you completely changed. Being bubbly and giggly didn’t mean to be childish but the things that happened in your life had a huge impact on you, more than you thought, and hoped. Now, you speculated everything, wanted every details of whatever happens. You always justified that side of you by saying that it was your job that required that. It wasn’t a total lie, but it wasn’t always intentional. You were always wary of everything. You were still very nice and warm, however you now mastered the art of coldness, when needed.

You spend the time conversing with Eunha, talking about your jobs, your love lives etc. She had this aura that helped people around her be at ease. 

As your mother only woke up an hour after your arrival, you decided to stay for dinner, to spend some time with her. You stayed to help Eunha with the dishes, but left quickly after, your mother forcing you to. According to her, your under eye bags were way too visible for her liking for you to stay any longer. So that’s how you ended up in your house, at 9pm, in your pajamas, in front of a nice TV show. You needed that.

You fell asleep there, in a pile of fuzzy blankets and the tv still on. Your phone woke you up early in the morning. It was a new message. Groaning, you broke your warm blanket cocoon, against your will, and took your phone. Chaeyoung. Your frowned. Why would she call you this early? 

“Yes?”

“Sorry, did I woke you up?”, she asked.

“Well, obviously, it’s 6 in the morning, Chae. What is it?”, you brushed your hair out of your face and sighed.

“I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t important. There are new infos about the suspect, Jung Woojin. Boss wants everyone in the office right now.”

You groaned, “Ok, I’ll try to be there as fast as I can. See you.”

After hanging up, you went to take a quick shower. The boss may want you right now, but your body needed to be cleaned up. You were way to tired the night before to do anything aside from stuffing your face with junk food in front of your favorite tv shows. 

“It’s been a good half an hour since I called you. Really fast, I see.”, Chaeyoung grumbled once you entered your shared office. 

“I’m sorry, I had to take a shower. And half an hour is pretty fast.”, you counter attacked. 

She shrugged, “Here are the new infos about him. They reserved you a meeting with the suspect. And we’ll have a meeting afterwards. I know normally it’s way slower, but it’s an important case.” 

“I know, I know. I’ll get ready.”, you quickly read the documents Chaeyoung handed you then headed to the office station, where the said meeting was going to take place.

“Mr. Jung is inside, you’ll have 30 minutes with him as a first meeting.”, a police officer reported, leading you to an interrogation room. 

“Thank you.”, you politely bowed. 

Opening the door, you saw him. Jung Woojin. He was the spitted image of his brother.

“Good morning, Mr. Jung.”, you greeted, taking the place in front of him, on the other side of the table.

“Morning, Miss Y/L/N.”, he paused. “I can finally put a face to the name. I’ve heard a lot about you.”, he smiled mischievously.

“It’s Attorney Y/L/N.”, you tried to sound confident, “And I’m glad.”, you coldly said. “But, we’re not here to talk about me. We’re here because of the monstrosity you made.”

“I already told everyone, Attorney Y/L/N, I’m innocent. I haven’t done anything.”, he leaned back on his chair, trying to look intimidating. You’ve seen worse. 

“They found your fingerprints on one of the crime scene. More so, on the murder weapon. A 6 inch hunting knife.”, you took out a picture of the said weapon out of your files. “How do you explain that?”

“It’s mine. But I wasn’t there.”, he straightened and look more serious, “Look, I know everything point at me, but I didn’t do it. I don’t how it ended up there.”

“Then just explain to me, give me evidences of your innocence.”

“I know you desperately want us inside, but, I didn’t do it, ok. It wasn’t me.”

“I know you didn’t do all of them, or at least, I don’t have proofs. But that poor guy was murdered by you.”, you declared, looking him dead in the eye. “And I’ll prove it. I hope you have a good lawyer.” 

“Don’t worry, she’s amazing.” 

“So,”, you regained your professionalism, “let me ask you some basic questions, where were you the night of the murder?”

And it went like that for twenty minutes; you asking questions, him answering them. He kept on claiming his innocence, but, even if you tried, many evidences proved the contrary. 

“Ok, thank you, that’s it for today. I’ll see in a couple of days again, probably with your lawyer. Have a good day.” What an absurd exclamation, regarding the situation. You shook your head and collected your belongings before getting out of the room.

The moment you got out, the police officer entered it. He led Mr. Jung out, back to his prison cell, where he stayed since his detention.

“Attorney Y/L/N!”, another police officer called out. “Mr. Jung’s lawyer is also here. Would you like to meet her?”

“Yes, please.”, you gave him a polite smile as he guided you to an office.

“Attorney Choi!”, he called, catching the woman’s attention. “Here’s Attorney Y/L/N.” 

The woman turned around, it was like those cliché drama scenes. But there she was. Choi Jiseon.