pocketjoong-reads

[pocketjoong-reads]

Thoughts on hard dom Hwa? 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

yes.

shibari

but with silk (he wouldn’t want to hurt his precious little bunny after all).

he’d want to tie you up and experiment with all sorts of knots, all the while calling you his bunny.

he’d seem sweet and attentive, but he’d also purposefully rile you up while your tied up in ways that won’t allow you to get yourself off.

he’d tease you and tease you and tease you but won’t actually touch you where you want him to until you’re begging.

he’d laugh at you and call you pathetic, and you’d eat it all up, getting wetter and needier by the second.

he’d watch with a sadistic smile on his face as you mr naked body squirmed, your arousal smearing against whatever surface you were on.

he’d cup his hand over your sopping pussy if he felt nice, a chuckle escaping his lips as you immediately buck your hips against his palm.

“and what do you think you’re doing, hm?”

he’d let you continue until he knew you were close, abruptly removing his hands.

“you don’t move until i tell you to, okay, bunny? i decide when you cum, did you forget? and only good girls get to cum, so behave.”

he’d watch you nod eagerly, the smirk spreading wider.

“good, good… tell me who you belong to, bunny… uh huh, that’s right, very good… yeah, bunny, you belong to me… now, do you want that reward?”

he’d finally run a single finger through your folds, circling your oh so sensitive clit almost frustratingly slowly, gradually increasing his speed and pressure.

he’d never wipe of his sadistic smirk as he watched you unravel at his fingertips, listening to your pretty little sounds and cooing at you mockingly.

“aww, bunny, you’re so sensitive… are you going to cum? … yeah? hm? you’re gonna cum on a single finger? … god, look at you, so pathetic… what? awww, you were expecting me tell you you’re doing well? tell you how pretty you are? what a cute little slut… oh? what was that? you’re not a slut? …. baby, you sound so stupid. who was it that was begging for any kind of touch a second ago, hm?”

he’d click his tongue disappointedly at your protest, but still didn’t stop his rubbing. though, instead of letting you finish, he’d edge you.

he’d rub you until you were just about to finish, then pull away and wait a minute, before repeating the same thing over and over again.

he’d have you call yourself his slut between every break. by the time he decides it was enough, you had tears streaming down your face.

he’d finally let you finish, watching you twitch and cry out like the pathetic little mess you are.

and he’d smile, knowing he’s the only one that could get you in that state.

[pocketjoong-reads]

♡ 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐬 ♡

【Synopsis】 : You were a simple town folk, living your life that was run by strict rules and a cruel chruch in year 1459. But what happens one night when a not one, not two, but eight vampires come to your rescue?

『Word count』 : loading....

-> Genre: Supernatural. Smut. Angst. Fluff.  Mafia au

Paring: Mafia!ot8!Vampire!Ateez x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : Individual warnings will be listed in each chapter

Again, know I've been gushing about this by seriously thank you to everyone on here. The fact that we have hit 4k is insane in my mind. You all mean so much to me, and I'm so happy that we've been able to make such an amazing community. Thank you ♡♡♡

Chapter One : Eternally Ours

Chapter Two : Sweeter Than Being Drunk

Chapter Three : —

To be continued...

If you want to be added to this mini series's tag list. Let me know my commenting, inboxing, or dming me. ♡ also, Id you wish to be added or taken off my permanent tag list, do let me know as well. Enjoy sinning ♡♡

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

[pocketjoong-reads]

angel | park seonghwa

pairing: fem!reader x non idol!park seonghwa

genre: soulmate au

word count: 3.5k

warnings: mentions of food, fluff

playlist: inception - ateez, francesca - hozier, unknown/nth - hozier

networks: @cromernet

author’s note: happiest birthday to my lovely star bai @hwaightme , i love you more than words can say <3 i hope today has been filled with nothing but happiness and laughter and love. thank you for being a precious friend and my partner in delulu. ilysm, sending the biggest warmest hugs <33333 please enjoy this delulu frankenstein

masterlist | navi

“Are you quite sure we should be doing this?” 

The night was drawing to an end, and so was your wit. You could no longer stand to be in the suffocating ballroom, the amount of people spinning around was making you dizzy to the point of nausea. That was when he offered you a way out, seeing you struggle to maintain composure while sitting all alone.

“Absolutely not,” you heard the smirk in his voice while he led you out to the garden, sure you were following after him.

“How irresponsible of you to draw a young lady away to a dark secluded corner of a garden,” he laughed. “Should I be fearing for my life?”

When he stopped walking you almost ran into him, looking around to see you standing in the heart of the English Garden of the palace. During the night it was almost dreadful, as opposed to its beauty in the daytime, if it weren’t for the few scattered lights. 

“Not at all,” he turned, but you couldn’t see his face. The thought confused you only for a second, for you knew this man. You trusted him with your life. He reached for your hand, holding it in his warmer one. “Not long, now.”

“Not long,” you whispered back, your surroundings slowly fading as he pressed his lips to yours. 

Sometimes it was more than just a dream, you could feel it in your bones. It lingered during the day, the unshakable conviction that it was all true. That it had been true. It could not have been just your mind making up the ballroom dancing, whispered poems and a soft piano echoing during a sunny afternoon. So you wrote it all down in letters you kept under your bed. Most times the dreams had already escaped your memory, so all there was were jumbled thoughts scribbled quickly before even those could fade away. Other times, you woke up in the middle of the night, so convinced you were still there, still surrounded by warmth and love you never dared imagine could exist. Your hand blindly reached for the notebook you kept on your nightstand, chasing after the vivid imagery in your head. 

The words you kept closer to your heart were the ones he whispered one night, you could hear vivid chatter from somewhere far away and the evening breeze making goosebumps erupt on your skin. But he was there, standing tall and faceless beside you, his hand guiding yours to his lips. 

“Farewell, my angel,” he had whispered against your knuckles before you woke up. 

In shades of dark and moonlight, you waited for the distinct feeling of the lingering feather-like kiss to vanish, both hoping it would and wishing it wouldn’t. Alone in your bed you hesitated to turn and reach for the notebook like you usually would; you had the feeling you could never forget the way his voice spoke the words that made every hair stand on ends. 

And you never did, for each night you would be in his company in dreamland and, each night, he would call you his angel. He showed you a world of colors, of hushed whispers in the dark, a warm murmur by your ear as he enveloped you in his arms. It was all you ever wished to hear in the daylight rather than just inside your head. 

It was another day waking up itching to know more, wanting to know if you were going insane or if this was the twisted way in which fate had decided to assign you your soulmate. All you had ever had were dreams that made no sense, yet gave you hope. Even when you did not know where to start, if to even dare at all.

There was little you could do, really, except live in a dream. Because even as you made your way down a busy street, en route to work, chopped away whatever you needed for lunch or dinner, every other thought was stuck on him. This illusion of a perfect man who faded as moonlight gave way to another day. Sometimes it felt so real that it was hard to discern from reality itself. The phantom brush of a hand, the faint memory of a scribbled note, of his contagious laughter. It was as if you could hear them, as if they refused to go and stay where they belonged. 

But you couldn’t live in a dream, could you? You could hold out for however long it took, but you could not give up life in the meantime. 

“I swear, just trust me!” Your colleague would not give up. The constant nagging had become almost unbearable, so much so that it made you want to give in. “One date and if it sucks, I’ll leave you alone forever, I pinky promise.”

The copier rapidly dished out the papers you needed to bring back to your desk, giving you the perfect excuse not to look up at San. You sighed, he had been on a mission to get you to go out with this guy for a while now. He swore up and down that you two were destined, but you usually were able to dissuade your colleague pretty fast. Not today, it seemed. 

“Listen,” busying yourself counting the copies, you won another few short seconds before the time came to face San’s begging eyes. “Just one coffee?” 

“Please, please, believe me you guys would be perfect togeth- hold up,” smile opening up on his lips, eyes shiny and wide, San almost did a double take. “Are you saying yes?”

Sighing again, you fiddled with the top corner of your papers - that you were now hugging to your chest - before nodding. 

“One date,” you agreed, holding up your pointer finger right in front of his face. “And you have to stay near in case he’s weird and I need to escape.”

Proud of the conditions you laid down, you watched as San furiously nodded along, albeit a little offended that you’d think I’d set you up with some random weirdo. Thus, he ran back to his desk, murmuring about texting his friend. You let out one last sigh before returning to your station, too. 

You hoped you’d made the right choice. 

The first hints of autumn were making themselves known, a cooler breeze than usual surprising you as it caressed your face upon walking out the glass doors, the sun already on its way to set. You hid your face a little further into the scarf around your neck, walking out of your workplace beside San. 

It had been a week since you gave into his pleading and he’d been very secretive about the infamous date. You were starting to worry. Maybe his friend had said no? Or was he planning something elaborate? Was he not saying anything because, really, this friend of his truly was just some weirdo?

You were pulled out of your thoughts by San himself, catching him wave and say something along the lines of there he is. He quickly found your elbow, gently hitting it with his, snapping you back to reality. You barely caught any detail of the man walking towards the two of you.

“Alright, that is the friend I was telling you about,” your head snapped into San’s direction, eyes wide as saucers. “Looks like you’re going on a date.” 

Your friend was smiling his Cheshire grin, making you want to wipe it clean off his face.

“Choi San, this is an ambush!” You yelped, alarmed by his quiet giggling and eyebrow wiggling. “High treason even, could you not warn me at least-”

“Hi.”

Stood there, wrapped in a warm looking coat, was quite possibly the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. His smile was timid but friendly and his eyes were just as bright and warm, reflecting the lights from the lamppost. A few strands of wavy, chocolate hair fell delicately just above them.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys now, have fun!” 

Oh, you were going to kill San.

“Hi,” you greeted, eyes leaving the retreating figure of your friend to focus back on the man in front of you. 

“I’m Seonghwa, San’s friend,” he smiled again, melting your heart a little just by the sound of his voice. “It’s nice to meet you and I apologize for the suddenness of this all… it appears he didn’t need help with document boxes after all.”

“He sure didn’t,” you tried to keep the bitterness out of your voice, for it was San’s brilliant planning that landed you here, not his friend’s. So, you introduced yourself as well, suggesting to go to your favorite cafè just around the corner and trying to take the surprise blind date in stride. 

“It’s the only place I could think of,” you said, almost apologetic as you sat down. Truth was, the little hole in the wall cafè was special to you. It housed memories of tranquil mornings where you got there early enough to sit down for a coffee before work, joyous lunches with friends to celebrate achievements, quiet afternoons spent in the company of your favorite books. Your feet had taken you here on auto-pilot. 

“It’s lovely,” his smile could melt snow, you figured right then and there, after he’d looked around with curious eyes to the unique decor and shelves of literature, poems and papers.

Seonghwa was just as San had described him, after all. He made sure to open the door for you as you entered the cafè, he asked your order so he could go up to the register while you found a table you liked and even offered to pay. He was charming and a great listener, and he had managed to make you laugh until tears pooled in your eyes. It was so warm to be around him, easy to talk to as if you’d known him your whole life, almost as perfect as two puzzle pieces fitting together. 

When it was time to leave you almost didn’t want to. You wanted to stay there with him and keep talking, keep sharing your interests and favorites, exist inside the cozy bubble that had formed around you two. So, with the promise of another date and Seonghwa insisting to at least walk you to the nearest bus stop, you went home. 

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, taking you by surprise when he dipped down to land a kiss on your cheek before you could get on the bus. It stayed with you, making you feel like a teenager all over again. 

You went through the motions of preparing dinner and getting ready for bed as if floating on a cloud, barely believing you had it in you to feel so light. And if, while laying down on your bed with the lights off, you had felt so full of hope for something good, happiness and giddiness enough to make you giggle to yourself, then you woke up the following morning as empty as ever. A foreign hollow in your chest, that you had trouble identifying, was steadily painting everything gray, from the breakfast you made to the commute home. It was only then, sitting on the bus staring out to the traffic, that you realized you hadn’t dreamt of him that night. For the first night ever, you weren’t chasing after his fading figure. 

Each night you went to bed hoping to hear his voice and see on which adventure sleep would take you. Then, each morning you woke up well rested and clear-headed: no more piecing together the fragments of dreams you couldn’t remember, no more trying hard to see the face of the man that made you feel loved. Months of empty nights went by until, with time, you even forgot to remember him unless you stumbled upon your notebook. 

“You seem quiet today,” Seonghwa piped up, still browsing through the vinyls in front of him. 

“I was just thinking,” you shrugged, making your way over to him and taking his hand in yours. His smile, soft and contagious, made your heart flutter. Still focused on his search, now led with one hand only, he intertwined your fingers. It was at times like these, when he would kiss the back of your hand, that you wondered.  

“About what?” 

Finally, he looked at you, eyes bright and welcoming and saying what his words hid: you can tell me anything. You just shook your head, smiling back at him, shrugging as if the wandering thought didn’t lie heavy on your head whenever it knocked on the doors of your consciousness. 

“Alright, then, I have a surprise for you,” he pulled you away from the vinyl stand, almost as giddy as you felt, and into the busier paths of the market. Under string lights that festively shone, between the other passersby, it was easy to feel like you were the only two people in the world. That’s how Seonghwa made you feel; in his presence, living life was easier. If he was holding your hand, you were sure you could face any hurdles that may come. It was a feeling so real that you could almost taste it in his sweet kisses, his loving embrace, and no longer only dream of. 

As he dragged you - arm lazily thrown on your shoulders or hand on the small of your back if too many people forced you two to walk in line - remnant, persisting memories almost made you dizzy with deja vu. His hand squeezing yours to make sure you were still following, to tell you he was still there, his voice pointing out whatever caught his attention as you passed by, the wintry breeze and the cacophony of voices, laughs, faraway music surrounding you. 

“Here we are,” you almost bumped into his back when he stopped and stood facing the cafè that held the memory of your first date.

“It’s closed,” you pointed out, hearing his chuckle shortly after.

“Good thing I’ve got the keys,” he jingled them in the space between the two of you, a proud smile on his lips. You cocked your head to the side, brows furrowed. 

“You’ll see.” 

Seonghwa made quick work of opening up and leading you in, turning on the softer lights, leaving the sign on “closed”. As if on autopilot, you wandered around the room to the one table that had caught your eye. On it, laid few of your favorite pastries and pictures of you together, a colorful bouquet in the middle. 

“Seonghwa… what’s all this?” 

“Happy birthday,” his arms embraced you, bringing you to rest your back against his chest, holding you close. Speechless, you turned around in his hold, ready to speak but the words wouldn’t come. “I know you said you were working and were probably going to go home and do something on the weekend, but I didn’t want to just text you happy birthday and go about my day. Today is your day and you’re very special to me and I wanted to do something to wish you-”

You kissed him - interrupting his rambling and pulling him closer - gently like his arms were around your waist, warm like your cheeks and slow as if you had all the time in the world. 

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, hands still playing with soft strands of his hair. “You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” he pecked your lips once again before sliding away from you and pulling out the chair for you to sit. As he did, another confused memory swirled in your head. You pushed it away. Sitting in front of you, Seonghwa asked about your day and let you ramble on and on, so you asked about his, too. He left his hand out on the table for you to hold, so you did, not missing the way he quickly hid a smile after you intertwined your fingers. Whenever he was close to you, Seonghwa wondered if you could tell how furiously his heart was beating in his chest; be it by brushing your finger against his pulse or resting your head against it. 

When he deemed dinner over, he pulled out of its box a little cake and stuck a candle right in the middle of it for you to blow out - only after he’d sang happy birthday to you. Seonghwa found the way you covered your blushing cheeks with your hands the most adorable thing you could ever do. He seemed antsy, itching even, to give you your present, though. So you pushed the platter with your slice of cake aside. 

“You could’ve finished,” he pouted, making you laugh over the rustling of a paper bag.

“You looked like you were about to explode, Hwa,” you accepted his present, wrapped pristine and precise, insisting that he didn’t have to. He kept on saying he wanted to (and also, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?).

A smile so bright it rivaled the sun opened up on your lips, seeing the art cover of your favorite artist’s album peeking from the torn wrapping paper. 

“Is this why you were hogging the stand earlier?” You beamed at him, who sat with wide eyes hanging by your every word. You could tell his leg was bouncing. 

“I couldn’t have you buy it when I got it for you,” he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his you’d noticed, with a sheepish smile. You stood and, on the way to the record player of the shop, you kissed his cheek, murmuring a soft thank you. It was a look you wished to forever have engraved in your mind, the one he gave you when you offered him your hand to take, asking if you could have this dance. 

Seonghwa stood as if in a trance, nodding his head, only for you to guide him where less tables were. He pulled you close once again, slowly swaying to the beat of his fluttering heart or the music, he wasn’t sure. Time and time again he’d asked himself, in his time with you, how could he have been so lucky to meet you. To somehow hold your attention for long enough to make you see him, care for him. For you to want him to be this close to you. He hoped you’d allow him to be forever.

He twirled you around and waited for you to land back in his arms, feeling as dizzy as he often was when you found yourself there. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, cheek resting against his chest.

“Please, don’t thank me, my angel,” he whispered back, freezing time. 

The first time he’d called you angel, your heart had leapt from you. And yet, it wasn’t then and there, but back in your dreams. You didn’t know whether you were breathing still, all you knew was that when you looked up, Seonghwa was already searching for your eyes. 

“Say that again,” your voice was barely above a whisper, just as fragile as a piece of glass. 

“My angel,” his was too, broken by emotion and you had a feeling you knew just why. Seonghwa’s hands came to cup your cheeks, eyes drinking you in as if it were the first time. Perhaps it was, because you were looking at him like you finally found who you had been looking for. Like you could finally see the face that had populated your dreams. 

“It’s you,” it sounded crazy, absolutely mad to say something like that, but when he nodded back with unshed tears in his eyes, you knew. Seonghwa’s arms were quick to hug you to him once more, holding close like he never had before. Both your figures were shaken by sobs, but your hearts were being mended. Behind your eyelids, scenes of you through time played; all your dreams finally making sense as memories of past lives spent together, consumed by a love so fierce that it found you in every life. 

 “I can’t believe I found you again,” Seonghwa whispered as your sobs died down. He was still holding you, in the middle of the cafè while the music played, as if he were afraid you’d vanish. 

“I can,” you sniffled. “I dreamed of you for so long, I should’ve known…” 

“I thought I was going out of my mind,” his watery laugh pulled a chuckle out of you. “I longed for the day I’d see you again.”The record had gone quieter, maybe because there was only so little you could focus on when you finally were in the arms of your soulmate. There was no need for words, not now. Not when you could feel the love pouring out of your fingertips. Not when Seonghwa was placing kisses on the tears running down your cheeks, your temples, your forehead, your lips. Not when his whispered my angel made up for the time you’d spent apart. All this running around in circles every night, chasing after figments of what you thought could only be your imagination had finally brought him to you. You both laughed at destiny for making you dream for so long, secure in the newfound conviction that you’d be together no matter where it brought you.

[pocketjoong-reads]

wooyo is such a fool for this. i love him. i had to make fun of him. shoutout @pocketjoong for skimming over these before posting! warning: language

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© November 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. reposting and translating of author’s work is prohibited.

[pocketjoong-reads]

Had the privilege of reading this beforehand and this had me squealing and kicking my feet fr fr!! LITERALLY THE CUTEST AND SWEETEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT FOR OUR LOVELY BAI AAAAA~

Easy as Breathing

P.SH x Reader

W/C:1176

Genre: Fluff, Stay at Home, Date Night.

Summary: You finally can have a date night with your partner, what will you get up to? He is the love of your life after all. Don't forget some shenanigans with a kitten.

a/n: Happy Birthday to one of my best friends on the entire planet! @hwaightme I love you so so so much and I can't believe we've spent almost a year together on this rock! Thank you for always believing in me even when I couldn't and making every day a little brighter with your art and delulu, you mean the absolute world to me and I love our chaos crew! I love you so much! I can't wait for many more! Here's to you!!!! <3 <3 <3 (also thank you my love @pocketjoong for beta-reading <3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dating Seonghwa was as easy as breathing, he fell into you like a missing puzzle piece and wamed your heart like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. He was there in the time you were studying for your degree and you were there as he and his group traveled across your home, attending his performances was something you had always promised to do whenever you could. He made sure to be there when you had graduated and you made sure that you were at the show for his birthday.

You had moved in together some time ago as you could never be away from each other long enough to keep your own place. Your home was cozy and minimal, it had lego displays and Star Wars memorabilia, a sofa big enough fo every member and yourself in the living space with a tv made for watching movies. The coffee table adorned with “The Star Wars Archives” “Star Wars Art.” and “Cabinet of Natural Curriosities.” A turntable adorned a corner of the room with speakers. Art hung on the wall, some you created, some you both had purchased from art fairs. The color palette was cooler, soft blacks and whites, a few accents of emerald and a pop of gold. Seonghwa had liked it for the rich vibes it gave him. You both had worked hard to make it into a home, this was your home. You remind each other it could be a cardboard box and it’d feel like home if you were together.

After what felt like Seonghwa being gone forever you both had settled on a date night, and while all your outdoor plans had been rained out or cancelled due to the weather you could still make the most of it. Grabbing umbrellas and ponchos you head to the local department store to pick up a few things, a lego set, snacks, a book or two, a puzzle, and a movie to potentially watch later.

“Okay I’ll start organizing the pieces into categories.” you said sitting at the now cleared off coffee table lego box open.

“Okay I’ll see where we should start.” Seonghwa smiled at you.

Lego building always starts peaceful but about halfway through you both are arguing if that’s the correct piece or if it’s actually the piece you’re holding because it looks more like the picture that way, you decide to make hot chocolate to get away from him and cool off because after all it is a silly argument, Lego building is very serious in this household, just ask your cat…also named Lego. The sweetest little black kitten with the brightest roud boba eyes. Seonghwa as a cat as you describe to your friends.

After your adventures in lego building you decide to do something a little active to wake up so maybe a few rounds of Just Dance, or as Hwa suggested a Youtube tutorial on aerobics. Then of course neither of you could decide on reading or the puzzle so you decide to snuggle up on the sofa and he reads to you while you lean against him, adjusting his glasses when they start sliding off his face since his arms are too full of you to keep them on his nose. You journey back to the lego building but of course you become distracted when Lego begins chasing the light reflected off your phone onto the floor. Your giggles becoming his favorite sound on the planet.

As the date night came to a close you made his favorites for dinner, a proper feast even. He held you close as you cleaned the kitchen and began waltzing with you as if in one of those old time movies with the big poofy dresses and gloves, him in a three piece suit. In reality you’re both in glasses and pajamas laughing as you stumble around the kitchen and listen to him humming. Finally settling in for the night back on the couch watching Kiki’s Delivery Service.

“Maybe we should get Lego, a Jiji.” Seonghwa smiled down at you.

“You sure you can handle two cats and a girlfriend Hwa?” you smiled back slightly.

“Well I’d have you to help out now wouldn’t I.” he pinched you slightly. You yelpped out in surprise.

“Yah! Park Seonghwa!” you hit him with a pillow.

“What’s like without a little spontaneity” he smiled and held your arms above your head before crashing his lip down on yours.

Lego jumped up on the table and let out a mighty roar. A tiny baby meow that stopped you both in your tracks.

“Yes sir Lego?” Seonghwa looked at the kitten who has yelled at his father.

“I think he said ‘Stop attacking mom.’” you chuckled from under the love of your life.

“She did start it Lego.” Hwa chuckled and scooped the kitten into his arms.

“Okay maybe we do need another cat since I now have no cat and no cuddles Hwa.” you pout gently.

“Well then, my little witch needs her Jiji doesn’t she?” he smiled and passed Lego into your arms and held you both close. “See this works much better doesn’t it.”

“It does……..PARK SEONGHWA!” you practically launched the kitten across the sofa and turned to hit the man who once again has found it in his enjoyment to torture his poor significant other while the cuddle on the couch.

“Have I ever told you how much I loved you.” he smiled as he stared into your eyes like they held the stars in the sky. 

“You could stand to mention it more now that you’re here.” you stuc your tongue out at him.

“I love you very much darling. Very. Very. Much.” he emphasized each very with a kiss to your lips. 

“You’ve now distracted me through the whole movie.” you chuckle and push him up gently.

“Alright alright, I give.” he sat back up and let you get comfortable.

It wasn’t long before the warmth of the blanket mixed with you partner in crime, a soft movie, and full stomach from too many snacks and tea began to drift you off to sleep.

“I do love you very very much my darling.” Seonghwa kissed the top of your head as you breathed peacefully without a care in the world.  Yes dating Seonghwa was as easy as breathing.

Bonus:

You awoke the next morning, it still dark and damp from the non-stop rain of the night, the soft patter on the window, Seonghwa arrived with a coffee just how you like it and his laptop under his arm.

“Good Morning Darling.” he smiled softly as you sat up and took the coffee.

“Mmm Mornin’ ” you mumbled.

“I was browsing for our very own Jiji this morning while I was waiting for your coffee to finish, I think I found the perfect one. Sure she’s not a black cat like the movie but-”

“She’s perfect Hwa.” you looked at the photo of the mostly black cat with a sweet little white star patch over her chest.

[pocketjoong-reads]

San's Lucky Charm

San x (f)Reader ft. Hongjooong

Summary: The five times Choi San had felt so lucky that the world around him would cease to exist.

Genre: Fluff (a tinge of angst) (simp San- i do not regret this)

Warnings: None

A/N: Choi San's got me whipped, I just can't. Please remember to show some love by 💗 and reblogs

"I'm so lucky." his mumbling caught her ear, heading snapping in his direction as she glared at him from the kitchen island, the contents of his unmade birthday cake spread out in shame. Placing his jacket and phone on the couch, he made his way to the open kitchen, trying not to look at the content displayed on the kitchen island, that would upset her even more, he knew better than to upset his lucky charm. Arms wrapped around her waist, he smiled down at her, crescents adorning his face, the apples of his cheeks radiating a soft blush, on similar to the first time she had made him feel like this. With pouted lips he mimicked whatever cute being he could imagine and mumbled out an "I’m sorry, I wanted to surprise you."

"Yeah, well you ruined my surprise, big boy."

His heart slammed against his rib cage with an intensity that scared him, fearing that she, no, the whole world could hear the way it hammered against his soul, when he laid eyes on her, when her sweet chime would ring in his ears, when he would feel her breath in his soul- it was her, it was the same experience, a form of Deja vu he would go through each time, falling in love with her all over again. It made him feel so lucky, she made him feel so lucky. There were many occasions when she made him feel as such, but there were five moments in particular that made his heart race and cheeks flush every time the memories crossed his mind.

1)The first time she had been ever so graceful to bless him with luck was when he, according to himself, needed it the most. In their pre-debut years, when he was but a country side boy experiencing life in Seoul, the bustling and busy life had begun to take a toll on his health. The late-night practices back at their studio in Gangnam weren't helping him either. He had thought of talking about this to either Hongjoong or Yunho but he knew himself well enough that he'd rather endure the pain than bring any form of discomfort to anyone else.

It was after their third practice session when he had asked to go take a five-minute breather, which, after noticing his flushed features and worn-out eyes, Hongjoong instantly agreed to with a “Take 10 instead”.

After thanking his soon-to-be Captain, he walked out into the corridor, dragging his feet across the tiles to the vending machine at the corner. This very vending machine had become his very best friend in these dire times of the night, where the mint chocolate Oreo packets were waiting for him every night. Not the healthiest snack but it is an enjoyable one nonetheless. Unfortunately, his favourite machine was not cooperating that night, spitting out that note he'd push in, whining in frustration he slammed his hand against the glass, watching everything inside shiver, but nothing else came out.

Taking a deep breath, he tried one more time, flattening the note in his palms and waving it in the air to blow away any bad luck. A pointless feat for as soon as the machine sucked in the note, it spat it back out and in return, he banged his forehead against the glass, repetitively, until he heard someone clear their throat. Twirling around he whined, "Hyuuuug, gimme a note-"

"Not Hongjoong, but you can take mine."

"What- oh" he squeaked, clearing his throat and rubbing his eyes to squint at the source, he had seen her before a few times, she was part of the temp staff, odd jobs here and there, but she was mainly here because of Hongjoong. His captain didn't have many friends, not many he trusted, but she had been one of those special few. According to Yeosang, she was as weird as Hongjoong when it came to her work, though he wasn't sure what her real role was.

"Here." moving past him she slipped her note into the machine and punched in the code, watching the biscuit fall into the tray. He was thankful he really was, and would've thanked her verbally too if he wasn't so flustered and tired. As her hand read to grab it from the tray another packet fell onto the tray as well as she chuckled, surprised but amused nonetheless. His eyes widened for a split second but softened at the sound of her little laugh, a smile gracing his lips as he felt a new sense of confidence bloom within his chest, eyes meeting her's when she faced him, holding out two packets, "Here, guess you were lucky today."

"I guess I was." he watched her walk away, somewhat saddened by the conclusion of their short encounter, yet, in his head her words twirled with passion, one that lit his heart on fire- San had always been everything, but lucky. He was smart, hardworking, and dedicated and in return his chest cavity was filled with a pure, glass heart- luck had never been in the picture. Especially not 10 minutes ago, so it was not him whose fate had finally jinxed the machine into giving him what his wee heart desired in the late hours of the night, no, it was her. She was the one who was lucky- an overreach, perhaps, but one his 16-year-old self had begun to take note of, hence, tonight he was lucky to have been graced by her presence.

2) "Need help with tha-at?" grimacing at the way his voice cracked at the end of the question, extremely unappealing, cursing his hormones. The tall, slender boy, cleared his throat, his beanie covering his forehead and eyebrows, his -Yunho's- sweater a bit too large on his frame.

"Hmm? Oh hi, Sannie- no, no I'm good." she peaked from above the two boxes she had been carrying. He was about to pester her even more, but stopped when Wooyoung slipped past him, taking a box off the other one to lighten her burden, earning a small 'Thanks'.

"Wouldn't want our fragile boy to get hurt." He winked at his friend who was now walking next to the two, almost third wheeling - dramatic as it may be, but after the machine encounter, he had come to the realisation that when it came to her, he was no less than a jester in a Shakespearean play for her, not that she had ever claimed so, but he would become one, making a fool out of himself had become his second nature. Wooyoung's statement, it was a simple joke, and an inside joke, it was true though, Yunho had once compared him to a kitten as well, claiming that his head was too big for his fragile body. Wasn't wrong though, San was on the skinnier side, but it's not like he didn't eat, he really did, but perhaps that’s how he was designed to be.

"Careful Wooyoung, he's already outgrown you in height," placing the box on Hongjoong's desk, much to his disapproval, "What are you gonna do if he bulks up too?"

San, who was sulking at the back, perked up at the suggestion, quietly taking a seat next to Seonghwa who slid him a file. Snorting out in response Wooyoung squinted at San then at her, "Nah."

"We'll see." she shrugged and handed a pen and clipboard to Hongjoong, "Sign here please, make sure to tip the delivery person."

"You gotta stop taking these odd jobs." He mumbled signing the papers, "Just ask for an increment here." handing her the papers back he rolled his eyes at the lack of attention from his friend, taking in the way her eyes were stationed upon the boy across him, studying his face as he read his own file.

"What's this?" he whispered to Seonghwa who shrugged, not even bothering to look up for him game, "Gym membership, Yeo and Jongho signed up too. Was Y/N's idea."

His head shot up at a whine, "Hongjoong, what is 0.02% tip?"

"Based on the service provided."

"EXCUSE ME?"

He watched the two argue, wanting to ask her something, but he was never going to in front of everyone, so he waited, patiently as ever, for much like how he was considerate, he was patient as well. "20℅"

"2% and no more, or I swear I'll send an anonymous complaint about you."

"I hope your food delivery gets cancelled." with that she stomped out, earning a roar of laughter from the table of his groupmates and curses from Hongjoong. Quick as a cat he pounced at the door, running behind her into the staircase, "Wait up!" he called out spontaneously, unsure of what was to be said next.

"Hmm?" she turned to him, clipboard in hand, "Yes?"

"I… I um." clearing his throat he looked around, "I- this- I mean hyung gave me this and- What I mean is, do you think I should go for it-"

"You don't have to bulk up for anyone San. Not Wooyoung, not the world", smiling at him she took the pen in his hand and wrote something on her own clipboard, "And not me." looking at him she handed it back, "Just do whatever you want, but because you want to do it."

"O-oh…" his cheeks had begun to match the colour of his red sweater, as he looked at his feet nodding. Just like last time, he watched her walk away, leaving him feeling that same thing once more, feeling lucky to know someone out there was looking out for him without any personal gain just wanting him to be happy.

That day he signed up for the gym, not for anyone but himself. That very day Hongjoong mysteriously ended up paying a 20% tip to the delivery person- "How-I swear I'll kill her."

3) The third time Choi San had been blessed by his lucky charm was his personal favourite. The World album was a success, things were going well, they were planning on a world tour, promotions and sponsorships were, and everything was great but for some reason, Choi San felt a bit out of place. Wasn't sure if it was the fatigue or the lingering thought of how he could've done even better. He had come to this realisation during the celebratory dinner, that everyone around him was having fun, drinking, eating, and letting loose. Seated between Wooyoung and Hongjoong, he had opted to not drink, knowing he was a light drinker, someone had to take care of his brothers, even if they were at the dorm, he had to make sure each one got into bed properly. While there had been no clear topic discussing his lack of effort, the group had started talking about how each member had worked themselves to their limits, Jongho and Wooyoung being the two most affected.

"Sannie held out well though." Hongjoong patted his head, "Strong boy" the drunk leader claimed before going back to talk about Wooyoung who was basking in the unfiltered attention. It wasn't like he didn't have problems as well; he had been spending an unimaginable time at the gym and then at practice, with little time left for sleeping or eating, and even though his body had begun to show signs of fatigue, he refused to take a hint. Whether he’d admit it or not, he had seen how hard everyone was working and he had no intention of burdening them even more, which is why, during their last performance of the season, when he stood there out of breath, almost on the verge of tears, he prayed to God his body wouldn’t give up on him- at least not while they were still on stage. Although berated by Hongjoong later, he was glad during the time he could help the team give a hundred percent, but apparently, for the little voice inside his head, that still wasn’t enough. It would constantly remind him of how each member had somehow outdone him, and improved more than he did, no matter how much time he’d spend at the gym, at practice, and in vocal classes, he still lagged behind.

Upon closing Wooyoung’s bedroom door, after tucking him all good, he sighed, returning to the lounge, thinking of cleaning up so they’d have less to do in the morning. They had moved into a house, which meant they were to clean up after themselves too, but at least everyone had their own rooms now. His thoughts were not going to let him sleep anytime soon, brain on overdrive, irritated by the slightest crunch of the plastic foil, or the way his glasses would slip off the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t until he was done throwing away all the Tupperware that the sound of the doorbell had his entire body jerk, a small squeak escaping his lips, like a scared cat, ears burning out embarrassment he cleared his throat and glanced at the clock. It was already past midnight, only a handful of people had their addresses and the manager had specifically told them to not bother him for the night, which is why he tip-toed to the door, pressing on the intercom and waiting for the other person to respond, since their intercom had no visual option, thanks to Mingi who had claimed that such things record and attract ghosts.

“You gonna let me in or just wait like a creep?”

It was her? The last he had heard from her was from Hongjoong, who had looked particularly annoyed that day, almost two years ago, when San was budding up the courage to confess to her, to woo her, after taking notes from Wooyoung- not a great idea but his man always had his back. So, when he had decided to go to her in her little cubicle, he was shocked to find it empty, He returned to the practice room to find Hongjoong staring at his laptop, unmoving. He had chosen to not ask about her- since his captain looked deep in thought, but his next question had caught the man off guard, “San, what do you think about Y/N?”

A simple question he had no real answer to, no, he did have an answer to it, but he wanted to see how it would play out, did perhaps Hongjoong share similar feelings as him? He had known her longer than San did, they were closer too, perhaps he was only questioning to ensure the younger one didn’t like her back. The thought process took so long that Hongjoong had begun to continue his monologue, rendering San’s response useless and untold, “She’s moving to the States, to study, apparently saved enough to afford the degree she wanted- I mean she could have gotten it here too, but when does she ever listen.” That day he had just nodded along with his sad captain, giving him a sympathetic smile every so often as he narrated about how he had met her back in school and she had told him they’d become rich one day and now he was all alone.

“Hongjoong, I will not be climbing over the gate in a skirt”, eyes widening at the static voice erupting from the intercom he cleared his throat before pressing the button, “It's open.” Was all he said before quickly turning to glance at his reflection in the closest reflective object, then smoothed down his shirt. A white tee over sweatpants was not how he wanted her to see him after two years. Pushing his glasses back up to their original position he opened the door to come face to face with his object of admiration and closeted love. She had grown, matured, and turned into a beauty he would willingly drop to his knees for, just to bask in her glow.

Her fist was about to meet the wood of the door before it opened, a certain someone coming in view, his shy eyes meeting her curious ones, a small smile gracing her lips as she casually let out a, “You’ve grown big, Sannie”, causing him to let out a nervous chuckle.

She watched him pour something in two mugs, admiring the expanse of his back, shoulders as wide as the ocean, the shirt clinging onto him for its dear life every time he’d move, he had grown taller too, and his physical presence was now a sweet contrast with his shy personality, the introverted being that he was. Turning to her with a gentle smile he placed the coffee in front of her, “Sorry about the mess,” sitting in front of her, the marble bar between the two, “Everyone went to sleep a while ago, including Hongjoong.” He claimed carefully, somehow the voice was back, telling him how she was not here for him, but his leader, perhaps wanting to surprise him, and meeting San was nothing more than a coincidence.

Resting her elbow on the counter she hummed, chin in hand, smiling at him, other hand tracing random patterns on the marble, “I had a feeling, but I didn’t come here for him, I came for you.” Her confession had him choking on his coffee, hissing at the burning sensation, as he slammed his mug down, causing her to run around to him, rubbing his back as she took the mug from him.

Clearing his throat to restore whatever shambles of his dignity he had left, he looked at her for an explanation, earning a nervous chuckle, she looked up at him, “You really have grown, I can’t believe I have to look up at you even when I’m standing and you’re sitting.”

"Don't change the subject." he cut her off, if what she had said was a joke, he didn't find it funny at all, "What do you mean by you came here to see me." His eyes bore a kind of sharpness that made her skin tingle, fingertips itching to smoothen the newly formed creases between his brows.

"I can only pin on you for so long, Sannie." a mumble escaped her, and suddenly everything but his face became more interesting.

"I don't…understand."

With a defeated sigh she shook her head, going back to her bar stool, perching herself atop it, radiating her usual bright arua as if nothing had happened. "What I meant was, I came to tell Hongjoong that I've moved back to the company" Pausing to glance up at him, making sure he was processing her words, she noticed the dark circles that had seemed to become one with his face, his tired eyes boring into hers, "I also know you almost blacked out in the last performance…. Was gonna yell at him for not noticing earlier."

Neither of the two when it had happened or when it had begun, but by the time she had finished her statement, the two were merely inches away, bodies separated by the counter but faces so close their breaths were mingling together, basking in each other's warmth. Perhaps it was he who had leaned in closer first, he was taller than her, and her entire weight was on her elbows as she tried to meet him halfway. His sharp eyes scanned her features, wondering why he hadn't mustered up the courage before she had left, the voice in his head yelling at him, warning him that if he made a move, he'd probably ruin their friendship and his dynamic with their leader.

"Why…" he whispered, his insecurities getting the better of him.

"Are you really going to make me say it, big boy?" with one final thought she leaned in closer, lips brushing against his before quickly pulling back and sitting properly.

He sat there, upper body leaning on top of the counter, looking at her with an unreadable expression, crooked glasses framed on his flushed face, staring right at her with eyes as big as a hyperactive cat's.

"Wait. Once more."

His words caught her off guard, a bubby laugh breaking past her lips as she shook her head, "No, you need to go to sleep, you're tired as hell."

Whining he moved around the counter to come to her, as she turned to face him, looking up at him expectantly, "I don't think you understand, you need to nurse me back to health."

"What?" chuckling she shoved him playfully, surprised by how she was unable to move him even an inch, blushing at the thought of what he'd feel like against her.

"You heard me, one more!" gesturing with his finger he leaned in closer only to pause when she cupped his face, squishing his cheeks, "I only kiss boys who are well rested." There it was, after two whole years, the warmth of being loved, the hug of luck, wrapping around him, silencing the tiny voice at the back of his head.

Pecking the tip of his nose, she smiled at the way his nose scrunched up in response. His fingers wrapped around her wrists gently peeling her hands off his face, never breaking eye contact even once, tilting his head he kissed the palm of her hand, before standing tall over her, her hands in his. Finally, he was having his moment, with his lucky charm, anticipating many more to come.

"You're my lucky charm." he beamed, admiring the way her eyes widened for a second before turning into crescents, her smile the biggest he'd ever seen.

"And I'm going to have so much fun with this."

The two froze at the new voice, dreading who it was, so much so that she didn't even dare turn her flushed face to face the third party interrupting their little moment. San on the other hand burst into a smile, turning to face him, still hand in hand with his lucky charm, "You're good at keeping secrets, right hyung?"

Yunho, it was always Yunho who caught them

4) The fourth time a similar feeling of lucky rode up his spine was an unexpected one, one that led him to owe Yunho another favour. Like any other day at work, San was busy going through sheets of music he was given, wondering when to practice with Jongho, considering the two were going to work out together as well. He hadn’t looked up from the sheets until someone came and sat beside him, glancing at the person who chose to sit right next to him in a room filled with empty seats, Yunho. "You talked to Y/N today?" Yunho asked, casually picking up one of the music sheets. Since that fateful night, Yunho had promised to keep their relationship a secret, though he had warned San in private, that although her relationship with Hongjoong was platonic, there was a sense of brotherly protectiveness the captain showed around her. One wrong move could unleash the beast.

"We texted in the morning, why?" placing down his sheet he turned to look at Yunho, something had to be wrong, otherwise, Yunho would never talk about their relationship at work, even at the dorm, it was more of a secret texting thing. Y/N had even made a group chat comprised with the three of them. Though it comprised Yunho and Y/N spamming the chat more than anything, San would just scroll through at night, smiling at the silly memes or banter.

"Did you notice… anything odd?" the older one asks, placing the sheet between them, "I haven't seen her around though, so I thought she didn't come by."

"No" he frowned in confusion, clearly remembering her telling him in the morning that she'd come to work and the two could have lunch, though she later cancelled it and said she had a meeting to go to, "I…is something wrong?"

"San, you gotta pick up on hints bro, or at least think like most people do." Yunho sighed, before balling up a paper and tossing it at him, landing smack on his forehead as he winced, rubbing his palm over his forehead, letting out a confused, "Did I do something?"

"No, I don't think it's you." he hummed thinking to himself, "But if you want to ever get Hongjoong's approval, you should accept the first thing about her, she’d rather keep in all her little secrets than tell anyone she’s hurting, which assume you already know."

That's all it had taken for San to bounce back on his feet and stomp out of the room, he knew, he just knew she had finally snapped, but being herself, she would have never let anyone see her during her moments of vulnerability. Fortunately for her, Choi San had always known where she'd go during those moments, a place he had stumbled upon during his trainee years, the rooftop. He had come up here once, trying to clear his head from all the commotion, when Hongjoong and Wooyoung had disagreed on something turning into a war of insults thrown back and forth, so to avoid the toxicity he had come up here, only to free by the door when he heard a sniffle. He knew he should've left, but he just had to know if he could help the person out, be better, a useful person- he couldn't though, for when he had peaked outside, he froze, eyes casting on a slouched figure sitting on the ground, hugging her knees as she stared ahead- no, that day Choi San had backed out and left her there to cry, too afraid to approach her, but not tonight.

The door slammed open causing her breath to hitch, instantly wiping her tears with the back of her hand, stood up to turn and lock eyes with the person she had been trying to avoid all day.

Within a matter of minutes, she was wrapped in his warmth, face flush against his chest, his scent enveloping her, snug and secure in his loving embrace. He stood there with her in his arms, protecting her from the chilly breeze, one hand placed on her back while the other one loving caressed her head. Placing a chaste kiss to the side of her head he whispered, "I don't know what's got you so upset, but no one gets to hurt my lucky charm."

That night the two stayed up there on the roof with the moon and stars watching over them. He was seated on the ground, with her side pressed into him, nuzzling into his neck ever so often, forcing a contented sigh out of him, arm lazily draped over her form as he began to hum a random tune.

"Won't you ask me…why I'm here?"

If he weren't literally pressed to her, her whisper would've gone deaf to his ears. Fortunately for both of them, their relationship had birthed a newly formed sense of confidence in him, which is why he would always be watching her, observing her, listening to her, from her words to the beating of her heart.

"I won't force you."

It was these words that led him to open the floodgates of her insecurities, wave after wave, poured into him, with full hopes of having the ability to swim through it all. That night she told him about how people would associate her with a gold-digger because she was friends with Hongjoong, how when she had told this to him, he had confronted the people making it worse, no one ever believed they were just best friends. It was after that she decided to move abroad for her degree, to prove everyone wrong and to make sure when she came back, she'd be respected by everyone, including San. That night she had confessed that she had been pinning on him ever since Hongjoong introduced the two, which is why when the rumours got worse, she feared he would believe they were true, resulting in the decision of her degree abroad. Even after coming back, even after finally being able to love him freely, she was labelled as the same, but what was worse was that if their relationship was ever to surface, then she would be accused of using the kind-hearted man, because San was gullible, always had been and according to many she was a witch. No one had ever seen her struggle, or noticed the number of odd jobs she had, yet, here they all stood ready to accuse her, what she feared the most was that one day, if they were able to convince him, he might accuse her of it too.

By the end of her confession, all San remembers is that he had ended up crying, pulling her closer to him, if that were even possible. He shoved her face further into his hoodie, letting her take it all out, strategically keeping his tears hidden from her. It was moments like these that had him battling his intrusive thoughts, the urge to set the cold, dark world on fire to keep his little lucky charm warm and safe. His heart swimming in the mush of feelings that he would melt into, once her words settled in, her concerns about him leaving, making him feel so valued, so important, so lucky.

5) The fifth time San had felt this innate feeling of luck consume him, was a moment he had dreaded for days before mustering up the courage to face it, one that he was so uncertain of, that if it weren't for the way their fingers were locked together and how she would gently squeeze his hand from time to time, he would've done two things; 1) Piss himself and 2) run away with his tale between his legs.

Perhaps because it was so uncalled for, so sudden that he could not prepare. Though he was never fun to be afraid of spontaneous situations unless those situations involved her. Much like any other day, everything went smoothly, everything had gone according to plan, almost everything. He had managed to ensure everyone would leave the dorm, thanks to Yunho's help, it was their 3rd month anniversary and even though she had insisted on not making a big deal out of it, San was hell-bent on making up for lost time, claiming he owed it to her.

Yunho had devised a simple plan, take everyone out for dinner and at that last moment, San could pull back with a fake tummy ache, giving him the privacy, he'd need for his little surprise for her. Simple. And for a while, he did think he would pull this off. He had managed to stay home, set up his room with candles, scattering rose petals across the room and set up the track to set the mood, all tips given by Yunho himself.

Now, he just had to wait, for he had already texted her to hurry to their dorm since he had managed to "hurt" himself. For a while, he waited patiently, until his anxiety started to kick in, especially when he realised, she had left his message on read.

He had been staring at the small coffee table, two plates neatly aligned at either side, but a purple velvet box in one. No, it wasn't anything big, he had just decided to get them something, she had once talked about couple bracelets and how she wondered why people get them. For him though, small gestures like these meant a lot, a true simp at heart. This "little gesture" was more than a mere accessory, it was a statement, of belonging to someone, of sharing a good portion of your heart with someone. To prove this, he had gotten them these, even if he couldn't wear it all the time, he'd keep it close to him, a small token representing his vast love for her.

He had been staring at the box when he heard a faint knock and the click door open. A second of panic flashed before his eyes, quickly bent down to fix the already properly placed items, turned around and rambled, "Y/N, h-hey, sorry for that message, I- I thought you weren't going to come because you're busy and…."

"Well, this seems…romantic."

"Hyung, I can explain."

What felt like an eternity later, the door slammed open and a smaller being stopped inside, the rustling of various paper bags accompanying her every stomp. Cradling the numerous bags in her arms, enough for them to block her line of sight, she reached his bed completely by muscle memory and dropped everything down on the bed, "Okay, next time you send me such a vague message I swear I'll block you" she began to pull out the contents of each bag, "I got medicine, for…everything, muscle, headache, backache, diarrhea and …constipation?" squinting at the small text she tossed the packet back on the bed and turned to see him on the sofa at the opposite end, completely focused on him and anything else in the room as she scurried to him, placing her hand on his sweaty forehead as he stared up at her silent, with eyes as wide as a cat caught at midnight.

"You're burning up- shit." pulling her hand back placed it on his dress shirt, noticing how he was wearing such a formal attire, with an ironed white dress shirt and slacks, "Sannie…do you usually dress like this when you have a fever?" she asked quickly undoing his tie, only for him to grip her wrists in the process, their eyes locked for a moment. She stared at him with confusion, only to finally notice the whirlpool of emotions swimming behind his orbs, an eerie feeling settling in the pit of her stomach, breaking eye contact he glanced sideways as if gesturing for her to look to her side.

If it weren't for how she would be transfixed on him, taking in his every gesture, reading him like her favourite book, morning, noon and night, she would've missed the little quiver of his bottom lip or the way his breathing had turned frantic and uneven. Turning her head to the side her gaze caught the reason of the current position of her boyfriend.

"Hongjoong."

"Y/N."

"How long… have you been…here?"

The man who was sitting cross-legged on the gaming chair shrugged at her before glaring at his bandmate who was now staring at the ground, somewhat afraid to make eye contact with his captain, only for her to step in front of him and block the view.

She stood there in front of him, hand on her hips, "Okay, what do you want?"

"Me?" he pointed at himself before gesturing to their surroundings, "Should I not be asking you the same thing?"

"Hyung it's not her fault- she didn't know- I…this was a surprise." he stood up, standing tall behind her, yet the fear of uncertainty painted all over his face. If Hongjoong wasn't in one of his moods, he would've found the scene to be extremely cute, with a giant man standing behind his best friend like that.

"What's with the table…" finally taking in the room she noticed the petals and the small table with silverware, a plate with a box, "Sannie, did you- wait, I didn't get you anything." she turned around frowning up at him, only for him to gaze down at her, in surprise. This was it, how she'd make it seem like no one else existed in the world but them, even at such a moment, she was more concerned about the lack of gift on her part.

"Excuse Me?! Sannie? " Hongjoong finally broke character, whining as he stood up and pointed at her, "How could you not tell me?!"

Turning her head to glance at him she snorted, "Seems to me you're the bad captain who didn't notice this" gesturing between herself and San, "has been going on for months."

"BAD CAPTAIN?" he yelled, now looking up at San, "You hid this from me too? Why? Do you think I would have disapproved, why would have I disapproved ??"

San nodded in return, not sure if he should confess, not sure if he should read out the list of insecurities and weaknesses that he held within. What if upon hearing the list he'd actually tell them to break it off, or worse, what if she leaves him?

Licking his chapped lips, he slowly nodded at Hongjoong, ready to give his little monologue, but the words caught in his throat when her fingers laced with his, he glanced at her to spot her smiling at him then turning to Hongjoong, "He didn't tell you because I told him not to, because you're a psycho."

"You know what." placing his hands on his hips he frowned at her, "I wouldn't have let my Sannie date you because you're insane!"

"YOU'RE SANNIE?"

"Well." smirking at her he glanced at San who was looking between the two who were arguing, "I did know him before you knew him."

"GET OUT!"

"This is my dorm."

"THIS IS MY BOYFRIEND'S ROOM."

"YOUR BOYFRIEND IS MY CLOSEST FRIEND AND COLLEGUE FIRST."

"I GOT US COUPLE BRACELETS" his interjection brought silence with it before Hongjoong chuckled and shook his head, walking out of the room, not after patting San's arm, leaving the two together.

Hearing the door shut he turned to her, placing his hands on her shoulders he smiled down at her, the same smile that would have her heart doing backflips, with his eyes turning into bright crescents and dimples adorning his cheeks, "Guess I can officially call you my lucky charm now, huh?"

.

"Ew, are you guys gonna do something weird now?"

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he let his hands fall off her waist, not before pecking her forehead. Turning to face the intruder with a fake smile, "Hey, hyung, what brings you here?"

"This one." he stated as a matter of fact, placing down a paper bag, "thought of making you a surprise birthday cake but forgot to get flour."

San chuckled, glancing at her who was whining and complaining, "Hongjoong for once can you not be yourself?"

"You mean be perfect?"

"Will you be staying for dinner hyung?" he stopped the two before they could begin arguing.

"I'd rather not, she'd poison my food." he snorted earning a very loud "I would have." from her, as he waved at them, making sure to lock the main door behind him, shoving the spare key back because pocket.

Alone once again, he smirked down at her, wrapping his arms around her waist, a hand grabbing a handful of her butt, squeezing it, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

In return, however, he received a kick on his shin causing him to bounce back, leaning down to rub the sore spot, "What was that for!?"

"For coming home early and giving that idiot the spare key to our apartment." she huffed walking past him and grabbing the flour, "Now go sit there like a good boy and let me bake for you."

Snorting he stood up straight, stretching his arms over his head to make him look even bigger, "My birthday was in July, you are aware of that right?"

"I know." sighing she cracked an egg, "But you were on tour and… I couldn't be with you, so I thought heck, why not just surprise you now…." grabbing another egg she stared at it, mumbling to herself as she pouted, "Guess I messed it up though…should've gotten everything earlier."

Her little sulk session was interrupted when he gently gripped her chin, turning her head to face him, tilting it up as he smiled down at her. If it weren't for his manly pride, the need of wanting to be tough and strong for her, he would've sobbed in pure joy. Little things like these, these gestures and ideas of hers always made his heart flutter, ever so caring for him, ever so present. He was glad she couldn't see through him, otherwise, she'd see how his heart had melted into a puddle of very gooey feelings, feelings for her.

"You never mess up, love" Leaning closer he brushed his lips over hers, his other hand reaching to grab hers, thumb brushing against the cool metallic bracelet she wore with pride, just like the one he'd wear when he'd feel it was safe enough to pass off as anything hut suspicious- though it never bothered her for she had told him how the thought of knowing both have one is enough for her.

"You're my lucky charm, remember?”

[pocketjoong-reads]

Invisible Strings Masterlist

Character Profiles: Prismatic Chaos | Stray Kids | Ateez

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten

[pocketjoong-reads]

Bubblegum Bitch

Summary: The pink-glittered "bubblegum bitch" named Hongjoong thinks he runs the school with his pretty mini skirts and cute crop-tops. He picks on the wrong guy and up biting off more than he can chew, or rather, swallow.

Characters/Pairing(s): Sub!Brat!Hongjoong x Mean Dom!Male!Reader

Genre: Smut, Crack

AUs/Trope info: Highschool!AU (They are legal adults), Mean Girls!AU, Bully/Victim to lovers

Word Count: 2,470

Warnings: mentions of bullying, feminization (sorta), calling hongjoong's chest "tits" or "boobs", hongjoong has nipple piercings

Rating: 18+

A/N: Banner by @kwanisms, smut warnings under the cut, MDNI istfg

Smut Warnings: dacryphilia, anal, oral (reader receiving), hongjoong being a fuckin BRAT, hair pulling, face fucking, unprotected sex, degradation, small dick hongjoong, creampie (this tag will make sense later)

You sat there in shock as the ice-cold americano ran down you hair and face, staining your shirt and sending chills throughout your body. Hongjoong stood behind you, holding the now empty Starbucks cup over your head, perfectly manicured nails digging into the plastic as a scowl mixed with a smirk carved into his pretty face.

Gasps could be heard from throughout the cafeteria, Hongjoong was pissed and he needed to do something about it, and it just so happened that you were the closest "nerd" in his vicinity.

"Oops, sorry. You looked like the trashcan." He said in this shrilly, forced giggle. The giggle still felt chillier than the ice stuck in your hair as he proceeded to throw the cup at your head. Walking away after he didn't get the reaction he wanted out of you.

He turns to leave the cafeteria, hips swaying that made his pink skirt swish as his heels clacked on the tile floor.

Your friend, Seonghwa, turned to check on you, "Are you okay? I didn't expect him to take that out on you." he says with genuine concern.

"No, I'm fine. He's just a bitch and that's nothing new." You finally found your voice, picking the ice from your hair and dropping them down on your food tray.

"I don't think we should go to that party tonight, Hongjoong's gonna be there and I'd rather not be around him for a while." Seonghwa said, He wasn't really the party, or the Hongjoong liker type, so this suggestion didn't really surprise you.

"Nah, this doesn't bother me. I be drunk anyways." You say, shrugging off your jacket and patting yourself dry with some tissues.

"Whatever man, I'm staying out of this one." He says, standing up to get you more tissues.

The day was uneventful after that, a few of your classmates came to check up on you, but other than that, nothing much happened for the rest of the day.

Okay, maybe Seonghwa had the right idea of not going to this party.

Not only did the alcohol already run out by the second hour, but the place was way too crowded even to enjoy the dancing. You just opted to camp out in one of the spare bedrooms to take a nap, luckily, you found one that wasn't occupied and you went in immediately.

Sitting down on the bed, you let your back hit it as you exhale, throwing your arm over your eyes in an attempt to calm the raging headache that you're experiencing.

You hear the door swing open, the loud music from downstairs spilling into the room as someone entered, it seems they had the same idea as you.

"Oh sorry, I didn't know someone was here- you?!" Hongjoong said with a shriek, his face laced with pure horror as he realized who was in the room with him.

"Oh shut the fuck up Hongjoong, I came here to take a nap. Don't get your panties in a twist." You say, pinching your nose and rolling over onto your back, burying your face in the pillow.

You hear Hongjoong shifting uncomfortably where he stood, he wanted to leave but he didn't want to show his face outside after people started throwing up downstairs.

He sighs, and you hear him walking towards you as you feel the bed dip, "Scoot over." He pushes you slightly, making room for himself. "This is so degrading, sharing a bed with you." He mumbles, mostly to himself.

"Yeah, whatever." You say, slightly muffled by the pillow, just as you are about to drift off you feel Hongjoong poking your side, "Entertain me, I'm bored."

You raise your head to look at him, the single lamp behind his head making a halo around his blonde hair, he's wearing a graphic tee with his signature pleated skirt and fishnets, heavy boots that end just below his kneecap, and finishing silver jewelry. He looks amazing, as usual.

"Do I look like a fucking clown to you? Entertain yourself." Still, he's getting on your last nerves, no matter how pretty he is all you feel is distaste for the blonde next to you.

"Since when were you hot?" Hongjoong blurts out suddenly, shifting in his sitting position to straighten his back. Horror ran across his face as the weight of what he said sank down on him.

"Oh?" This piqued your interest, and rolling over onto your back again, "You're not bad yourself, but you know that already, you don't dress like a slut and not know it."

Degradation, nobody has ever degraded Hongjoong in the way that you were doing right now, it was hot. His face flushes, running a hand through his blonde hair, "Oh, that's..." his train of thought stops there, the room suddenly becoming too hot for him.

"What? Don't tell me you're into that?" You say degradingly, his face gets redder, a pout forming on his lips, the gloss on his lips catching the soft glow of the lamp.

He clears his throat, ripping his eyes away from you. “Oh fuck off I’m not into that shit”  he grumbles shifting his body so that his back was facing you. You raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure about that?" You say, propping yourself up onto your elbows to face him, admiring the view.

"I'm sure." He says, his back still facing you.

"You don't sound so sure." You drag the word out, a hand trailing down your body, "You're lying." Your fingers brushed the hem of his panties he was wearing a pair of bubble pink panties, a comfy pair of cotton.

"What the fuck would I be lying about?" He says, a hint of worry in his voice.

"Your lil kink," You say, your fingers brushing under his skirt, a gasp escaped his lips and his face flushed pink.

"Stop talking, you're pulling shit out of your ass." He said in a sharp tone, though, the way he leans back into your touch betrays his outward aversion.

"I don't think I will. after all the slut asked me to entertain him" You lay back down on the bed, your eyes staring at the ceiling, you hear him sigh, and turn his head to face you.

"What the hell are you up to? You know that you'd lose everything if everyone found out about any of this." He says, his face still flushed with pink.

"Then no one has to know." You say, your cock twitches at your own words.

"Fuck." He says, biting his lip, and turning to face you. "You know, you're a damn cunt for being so convincing," he says, eyeing the tent in your jeans with a lust that wasn't there before.

"It's not my fault you're a needy slut." You say, sitting up fully, Hongjoong groans at this, crawling up the bed to straddle you.

"Yeah I'm a slut, I would've slept with you already if you weren't a fucking nerd." He said, sitting directly on your tent, his weight on your crotch made you throw your head back with a moan.

"What changed now?" You asked, grabbing onto the fabric of his skirt as he continued to not-so-subtly grind down on you.

"Oh you know," he started, already breathless, "didn't know you had that mouth to you." Placing a hand on your stomach. You smirk condescendingly at him, holding his hips down while you thrust up once, pressing your hard-on to his crotch.

You flip his skirt up, finding a small wet patch on his panties, his cock pressing against the thin fabric to get your attention. “Well, there’s more that my mouth could do,” you said as your eyes met his again, opting to grab the back of his neck to pull him into a searing kiss, he let out a muffled whimper as you pushed your tongue into his mouth, small hands holding onto your shirt.

You grip the hair behind his head, forcefully pulling him off your face. You watch as the string of saliva that connected you breaks, Hongjoong looks dazed, he is just recovering from the shock of that kiss. “But I’d rather see what yours could do.” 

You push him off of you and onto his back, his frame bouncing slightly at the impact, he lets out a gasp. You crawl towards him, taking only a moment to undo your belt and jeans. Hongjoong finally gets a good look at your cock as you take it out of your boxers. Stroking your cock, you say, “Y’know, I don’t think you deserve this.” Hongjoong’s eyes widened at the thought, his eyes glazing over with a desperate mist, “But you can let me fuck your face and I’ll think about letting you hop on this dick.”

Almost immediately, Hongjoong opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out whining and moaning followed after, “Aw, at the end of the day you are just a cock-hungry whore.” You say condescendingly, pushing your cock into his mouth with a grunt, holding his head down by his hair.

Hongjoong’s eyes roll to the back of his head, mascara running down his face as he lets you fuck it. Perfect lipgloss smearing on his cheeks makes him look more fucked out than he actually was, but nevertheless, his head is pleasantly empty.

“What? Anything to say to me now?” You laugh at the state of the boy under you, struggling to take your cock down his throat as he tries to speak, but obviously fails, this strokes your ego even more, having this much power over your tormenter. His muffles and whines send vibrations through your cock, and your grip on his hair tightens as you fuck his throat faster, his mascara stopped running down his face on account that it ran out, now replaced with a stream of clear tears wetting his cheeks.

You were close, but you didn’t want this to end just yet. You grab his hair, pulling him off your cock, he takes in big gulps of air, “Stop pulling my hair you ass.” He said, his voice hoarse from the rough usage of his throat, the string of saliva connecting his lips and your cock breaking from his snarky words.

“I would if you weren’t so into it, you’re damn near cumming in your panties babygirl.” You tug on his hair again to add insult to injury. 

You hold his hips, hands slipping under his skirt to pull down his panties. After taking it off him, you hold up the article of clothing in front of his face, “Look, you soaked this tiny thing.” You say before stuffing the pair into his mouth, “I like you better when you shut the fuck up.”

Flipping his skirt up, you can't help but chuckle a little at the sight before you. “Is this how you get away with these slutty outfits you got going on? Tiny, useless cock. You were made to take it, weren’t you? Whore.” His response was muffled by the panties in his mouth, his hands gripping the sheets below him. You flip his crop-top over his tits, seeing shiny silver on them, you take this as an opportunity to suck and pull on them, his sensitive nipples wending more pre-cum to his cute cock.

“You say that you hate me, but you’re under me, taking everything I give you.” You say, licking stripes onto his chest, “You hate me, but you want me so badly, you talk so much shit but as soon as I fight back you’re showing this cute hole to me.”

“This is mine now, I’m gonna fuck the mean out of you until you’re just an empty-headed cockslut, just for me.” Hongjoong’s eyes rolled back, cumming untouched just by your words, he was shaking, whining, and moaning into the fabric gagging him as he sobbed from the intense pleasure.

“If you think I’m done with you, you’re so fucking wrong.” You gripped his small cock, stroking him, Hongjoong started cringing in overstimulation, squirming into the sheets as you continued to milk him for his worth. You collect some of his cum, rubbing your fingers together to coat them with it. You head towards his puckering hole, rubbing the slick onto the hole before pushing one finger in.

“Gotta open you up for my big cock, you need to take everything I give you, it’s the least you could do after disturbing what was supposed to be my nap.” Hongjoong let out a muffled moan, nodding in agreement with you. For every thrust of your finger, he lets out a squeal of a moan, back arching off the bed with the creek of the springs protesting under his weight.

You add another finger, the pair of panties falling out of Hongjoong’s mouth with how wide he opened them, “Oh god! Don’t stop, please, fuck!” he writhed, hips bucking up to meet your fingers, them hitting just the spot that made Hongjoong delirious, “Fuck, fuck, fuck me!” 

Panting heavily, he says, “Fuck, just give me your cock, I want it, I need it, I need to cum from your cock, please!” Hongjoong says in desperation, too far gone to realize half the words he said were senseless babbles.

“Fuck, yeah, you want my cock? You’ll get it.” Taking your fingers out of him, stroking your cock with your still wet fingers while he lifts his hips up to present his hole to you, stretched out and ready for you, you take your cock and line it up with his hole, slowly pushing in with little resistance.

“Fuck! M’so full, fuck me pleasepleaseplease-” He’s practically drunk at this point, you start to thrust at a steady pace, Hongjoong’s tongue sticking out from his head being pleasantly empty, moans freely spill from his lips, much like the fact that he’s also drooling at the moment.

He’s so tight, squeezing your cock like he was just asking to get filled, the look on Hongjoong’s fucked-out face demanded that you stuff him full of your cum, and you know what? Who are you to deny him?

Skin slapping on skin, wet shlucking noises, and Hongjoong’s high-pitched whining made it incredibly obvious what was happening in the room to people outside, “Mmfuck! M’gonna cum m’gonna cum m’gonna cum-” Hongjoong chanted, your name left his lips like a mantra, a prayer, even, as he came all over his skirt and your jeans for the second time tonight.

The image of Hongjoong’s fucked out face was enough to send you over the edge, hips stilling flush against his as you spill your seed in his inviting hole.

Both of you try to catch your breath, a silence only accompanied by heavy breathing before Hongjoong breaks it. “Give me your number, I’m gonna need this dick for weeks.”

Tags: @kwanisms, @yoonguurt, @shinestarhwaa, @stardragongalaxy, @wooyoungmybelovedhusband, @anyamaris, @dimpledsatan, @haosweater, @starlitmark, @seongwin, @midnxght-sky, @nebulousbookshelf, @piratequeen-queenofgames, @northerngalxy, @yourfatherlucifer, @twisted-tales-of-all, @seumiley, @pocketsky

Network Tags: @cultofdionysusnet, @wonderlandnet, @kflixnet, @sandsofire

Strikethrough: couldn't tag

[pocketjoong-reads]

Werewolf Yunho

Pair: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Genre: Headcannons, Fluff, Smut, Werewolf!

W/C: 1021

a/n: Hi! I had planned a whole thing for October....and then had a breakdown....like a bad one. So I've been writing this for a while. I hope you guys like it, feel free to reblog it with feedback, comment on it, and reblog in general. Or don't I can't stop ya. MINORS DNI.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

SFW

You met at a 7/11 getting ice cream late at night

He thought you smelled like fresh laundry and pine. His two favorite scents

You thought you could see his tail wag when you pulled out a spiderman phone case

You both reach for the same flavor, you’re mostly just checking it out in search of a new one to try.

He asks for your number and pays for your ice cream because his mom always taught him to be a good boy. She actually said gentleman but….

Your first date is to the Han River because he read somewhere it was a good place to go for first dates

He bumps hands with you a few times and he can hear your heart rate increase so he ends up holding onto it, probably lacing your fingers together too.

You get ramen and sit out by the river under the fairy lights.

You share a bowl hoping to be romantic

His spice tolerance is crazy high

You end up in tears from how spicy it is

You’re also a little crazy and end up loving the pain so you’re laughing and crying

He’s concerned until you smile, your lips are probably red and maybe swollen.

He thinks you look best with a smile

Wolf by EXO

He loves howling, he’s scary good at it you think

Does he know how to tell you he’s a werewolf? No

Does part of you expect it? Yeah…look at him…he’s an absolute dog.

He gets nervous since he likes you.

Hands sweaty

Voice crack

He might faint since he probably didn’t eat since he was rehearsing what to say to you

When he wakes up and you’re over him worried….. he’ll be bright red ears first then his whole face

Of course, you wouldn’t be sure what dating a werewolf is like.

What can’t he hear?

Does he smell if you’re nervous?

How many of your inner thoughts can he hear?

Can he throw you around? Mmmhmm

You do research to make sure if you have him over nothing can hurt him. 

Look up sigils

Herbs

Maybe get into a little Magick…

Yunho falls fast. Maybe it’s his nature but he can’t help but fall for you instantly.

He’s scared to see you during full moons, usually, he can’t because of clan matters.

He usually comes back to your place when he’s stressed, he likes being surrounded by you.

He comes back and smells another dog. Immediately on guard.

Oh it’s an actual dog

One Golden Boi meets another

Nuri (dog) is on guard at all times.

Yunho and him have a standoff the first few times they meet. 

Nuri doesn’t understand this man who smells like a dog

Yunho doesn’t like the way he’s looking at him

“Okay you two enough with the standoff.” you say exasperated by the pair

“He started it.” Yunho says

*Bark*

“No, I didn’t!” Yunho defends to the dog

Yes he can “speak dog”

Are they best friends the second Yunho takes Nuri on a run? Yeah.

Nuri gets a long run with “Dad” in the morning and an evening walk with “Mom and Dad” at night.

Yunho became Dad quickly.

Especially if you can’t work from home so he needs to be good while you’re gone.

“Yunho you don’t have to also tug the toy in your mouth.”

“Nuri says this is how you do it.”

Buy. New. Dog Toys.

Yunho wants to introduce you to the pack, especially since he sees forever with you.

He has to petition them and get at least a majority vote to bring you into their circle.

If the pack approves then he can ask you to move in, and you can be with him, he won’t be worried about you walking at night or anything.

If the pack approves he can also pursue you as his lifelong partner. Silly wolf traditions.

Your first clan meeting is nerve-wracking

No Shoes Allowed, you must be one with nature.

You stay with the other partners and some of the new mothers while the boys go out hunting.

“Promise you’ll be safe?” you ask and put your forehead to his, a ritual you had seen in a wolf documentary. Research.

“I promise.” he smiles and kisses your forehead and you hand him a little charm you made

Good luck charm…made from nature.

Picked out all the herbs that would keep him safe.

He puts it around his neck.

After the first meeting they had decided they liked you, but they had to play the part so they didn’t tell Yunho until after the fourth meeting that they accepted you.

NSFW

Mating

This man wouldn’t be able to keep his hands paws off you

Sure you’ve hooked up and slept together but this is different

This is his claim on you.

You’re his and He’s yours

He was yours the second you reached for the same ice cream

His mark on you was that spot between your neck and shoulder, he always put his nose there before you let him mark you.

He won’t keep his hands off you for at least a week.

You’re not leaving the bedroom for at least 3 days.

If he’s coming up on a full moon… POSSESSIVE YUYU

He’s growled at Nuri before for distracting you. (no Yuyu he needs to go outside.)

Usually, he’s soft and sweet with you, not if he’s in a rut. 

Manhandling

Hope you like it rough your hips are gonna be sore as hell

Prepare to not walk the next day

Anniversary?= Camping in the woods so he can fuck you outside close to nature.

Probably breeding kink

His hands are so big and strong

When he’s soft, he won’t stop kissing you, telling you he loves you

“I’d kiss you after you ate garlic.”

“Good because I just ate some kimchijeon from the fridge.”

“No wonder you smell like home.”

Big Soft Boi

Tail Wag 

He’s in Love.

“Don’t ever leave.” he says tracing your hips.

“Wasn’t planning on it big guy.” you chuckle and throw your legs over him again.

[pocketjoong-reads]

dancing in the rain with ateez - hyung line

SUMMARY: what it's like to dance in the rain with ateez's hyung line, and how it happens. PAIRING(S): ateez hyung line x gn!reader GENRE: fluff! AU/TROPE INFO: implied idol!au, dancing in the rain, established relationship WORD COUNT: 1.7k WARNINGS: mild language RATING: g A/N: i've had these thoughts rolling around in my head for an absurd amount of time. what better time to get them out than the teezer 5 year anniversary? maknae line coming soon. and a huge shout out to my twinnie @pocketjoong for the beta, mwah. NET PINGS: @wonderlandnet

hongjoong (wc: 422)

it’s a near torrential downpour when the two of you finally emerge from his studio. you were deaf to it in the soundproofed walls of hongjoong’s second home, but in the halls of the kq building, the pounding rain echoes clear as day. his eyes widen and you sigh. 

“we could stay and see if it passes?” your boyfriend suggests, and you roll your eyes.

“joongie, it’s three in the morning. we need to get some sleep tonight. and besides, i told you to bring an umbrella. this is just karma.”

resolutely, you start for the door, and you hear hongjoong groan behind you. his footsteps pick up again a moment later.

“i just don’t want you to get soaked, sweetheart, i—”

you reach the door and turn, quirking an eyebrow and smirking at him. “are you sure you're not more worried about your hair?” you tease, reaching up to ruffle the freshly dyed shock of blue.

he rolled his eyes  and batted your hand away, pink tinting his ears. "that, too."

grinning, you take his hand. before he can react, you yank him through the doors and onto the sidewalk. your laughter and the roar of the sheets of rain are not enough to drown out his squawk of protest as you're both doused. 

when you turn to face him, there's an exasperated grin on his face. he tugs you back to him, your own surprised shout leaving you as you collide with his firm chest. 

his arms lace around your waist as your hands settle on his shoulders, and he slowly starts to sway to whatever tune is playing in his head. a soft smile overtakes your features and you reach a hand up, carding your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

you both sigh as your lips meet and you melt into each other, the rain muffling the sounds of the city and wrapping you up in your own little world.

you're still swaying when you part, eyes closed as you press into each other, fighting off the chill sinking into your bones with each other's body heat. 

hongjoong pulls back when a shiver lights down your spine, and you reluctantly let your hand drop back to his shoulder. 

a shock of color catches your eye before you can meet his adoring gaze, and you bark a laugh at the pale blue tinting your fingertips and under your nails.

“maybe you were right about your hair,” you hummed, waving your stained hand between you.

“karma.”

seonghwa (wc: 357)

you’re on a quiet stroll through your favorite park, one hand wrapped around your favorite drink and the other laced with seonghwa’s. clouds have hung in the air all morning, the smell of petrichor lingering in the air. but they’ve been there for longer than just today, so neither of you are particularly worried about it.

until, that is, you feel seonghwa startle next to you. he looks up with a furrowed brow, patting the top of his silky hair. 

you tilt your head at him, curious and questioning. “what’s the matter?”

he frowns, reaching an open palm out and shaking his head. “nothing, i guess. i thought i felt rain.”

you frown, reaching out a hand and looking up. nothing. still, you turn your attention back to your boyfriend. “we can head back home, if you’d prefer.”

to your surprise and delight, he huffed a sigh and pouted, shaking his head and tugging you back along the path you had been following before. “no. i’m enjoying this too much.”

it only takes a few minutes before you’re both regretting that suggestion, diving for cover underneath the branches of the trees around you as the rain starts to patter to the ground.

you’re both laughing as you run a hand through your hair. “maybe we should have gone,” you sigh, blinking up at him.

seonghwa hums thoughtfully, a soft smile playing at his lips. “or maybe it’s a good thing we stayed.” 

he stepped toward you, one strong arm wrapping around your waist. he pulls you into his chest and you can feel the warmth radiating from him as you offer him a confused smile, resting your open hand and your near-empty drink on his shoulder.

slowly, he steps back out into the rain, giving you ample time to protest before you’re getting doused too. for a moment, you flinch, but as he starts to sway, you relax in his arms again. 

sighing, you match his rhythm and press your lips against his own. “maybe it is a good thing we stayed.” 

your hopeless romantic of a boyfriend beams, pulling you closer and kissing you once again.

yunho (wc: 409)

you’ve found yourself like this countless times, leaning back against yunho’s warm chest as you both watch the rain fall in curtains against the window. for as long as you’ve been together, rainy days have been for curling up together and keeping dry, but today a certain romanticism tugs at your heartstrings.

“what are you thinking?” he murmurs against your temple, ever-aware of the smallest shifts in your mood.

“just being wistful and dreamy again,” you sigh, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “nothing bad, i promise.”

“okay,” he sighs, a curious lilt in his voice. “then what is it?”

“thinking about dancing in the rain, like we’re in a music video or something.” 

you saw him brighten in the reflection, his sunshiney grin warming your heart. “let’s go, then. let’s do it.” 

you turn in his arms, blinking back at him in confusion. “are you… are you serious? we don’t have to; it’s just one of those dumb little romantic tropes—”

he nods eagerly, releasing his hold around you to take your hand instead, tugging you toward your front door. you follow him in a bit of a daze, a disbelieving smile plastered on your face.

he barely stops to grab your keys and doesn’t give you time to put your shoes on before he’s dragging you out front and into the grass. you squeak at the chill, startled, but follow him as he tugs on your hand, spinning you back into his arms.

the look in his eyes is one you can only describe as “pure adoration” as your open hand lands firm on his shoulder, and he hums softly as he sways with you.

“is it everything you thought it would be?” he teases, eyes twinkling down at you.

“all that and more, yuyu,” you giggle, leaning up to catch his lips in a chaste kiss.

a flash of mischief glints behind his eye, and before you can process the movement, he’s dipping you back toward the ground and locking your lips, kissing you deeper than he had all night.

he swallows the gasp that leaves you and you melt into him, finding yourself completely breathless as he pulls you back up to your feet.

“so much more,” you sigh, giggling against his lips as you trade smaller, sweeter kisses, completely lost in each other as you sway to nothing but the sound of your own breaths and the water falling around you.

yeosang (wc: 527)

“how are you entirely out of batteries?” you groan, flopping back against your boyfriend’s bed. “you’re a gamer, aren’t you supposed to be well-stoked in these things?”

somewhere on the other side of the bedroom, you hear him grunt, huffing an annoyed sigh as you realize the sound was likely accompanied by a noncommittal shrug. “most of my stuff is rechargeable or hardwired. and if i need a flashlight, i usually use my phone.”

“well, maybe you shouldn’t have let it die, then!”

“like you’re any better. i saw you playing pocket camp until yours died, too.”

he’s right and you know it, so you don’t press the issue any further. you can already feel boredom sinking under your skin, though, and you breathe another sigh. outside, lightning flashes and thunder rolls, briefly silhouetting your boyfriend against the window.

“it looks like the convenience store on the corner has power. we could go grab snacks and batteries, then come back and play board games? or maybe the power will be back on by then.”

you join him, huffing an annoyed sigh as he’s proven right. “so the shady corner store has a backup generator and your top-of-the-line dorm doesn’t?”

“there are more fridges in there.” you shudder at the thought of his own fridge. “c’mon, let’s beat the rush, just in case.”

it isn’t until the front door of the building clicks shut behind you, the familiar electronic buzz of the door’s lock glaringly missing that you realize your mistake, “yeo, we can’t card in.” 

he stops in his tracks, blinking with his head half-turned to face you. “shit, you’re right.”

heart dropping, you reach for the door handle, groaning when it doesn’t budge. you try again, tugging harder and harder, panic rising in your throat—

until a warm hand envelopes your own, gently prying your fingers from the metal before pressing a kiss to the tip of each one. you look up at your boyfriend, an apologetic smile on his face, and let yourself slump against him. he hums quietly, the low rumble entwining in his chest with the beating of his heart, and you feel the tension slowly drain from your body as he rocks you gently from side to side. 

“we can still go get snacks, if you want,” he murmurs after a time. “then we can just… hang out until the power’s back on.” 

“not like we have much choice,” you grumble, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

he hums once in affirmation before picking his tune up again, shifting in a small circle as he sways with you. you feel his sigh more than you hear it, his lungs expanding for a moment before he lets his eyes slide closed.

“besides, isn’t dancing in the rain with the love of your life supposed to be romantic?”

you’re silent for too long, and when he opens his eyes, he’s relieved to find you grinning up at him, all wide-eyed innocence. “am i the love of your life, sangie?” 

his eyes go wide, cheeks and ears blossoming pink as he realizes what he said. well, there was no going back now.

“yes. you are.” 

TAGLISTS: (open, send an ask to join) permanent: @justhere4kpop @tastymintchocolate @soul-jae @ad0rechuu @seonghwaddict @thatonenoonaateez: @pyeonghongrie-main

© October 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my work.

[pocketjoong-reads]

ateez as signs of love (relationship hcs)

(masterlist) (perma-taglist)

8️⃣ pairing: bf!ateez x gn!reader 8️⃣ genre: headcanons, fluff, established long-term relationships 8️⃣ summary: the lessons, the comfort that love teaches and gives you, in a series of 8 headcanons with each of these beautiful souls 8️⃣ wordcount: 2.4k total 8️⃣ warnings/tags: not edited, drabble-style hcs, enamoured simping activated, soft and focused on subtle signs of love, energies that people give 8️⃣ taglist: at the bottom of the hcs 8️⃣ a/n: this anniversary holds a lot of significance to me, and i want to celebrate ateez together. i am forever grateful that they are in my life, and are a source of joy and hope. happy ateez day everyone. much love~

hongjoong

matching outfits, both in subtle and in louder ways - sharing accessories like earrings and rings, or colour coordinating for events you are attending together - a quiet signal that even if you are not loud about it, you two belong together and are on the same wavelength

lyrics dedicated to you and to what you have been through as a couple - how you have evolved and what you have seen and experienced; evolution through musical genre and through musical complexity - nods to travels, movies, conversations…

adoring glances across the room, wide smiles and hearty laughter at the silliest jokes simply because they are inside jokes in the language you two invented

challenging one another, proposing new viewpoints and debating on creative projects and ways forward in a healthy manner, while being each other’s number one fans and supporters; you can count on one another’s honest opinion, open arms and mind

late night calls, or calls that run through the entire night where you two either work remotely, or first connect under the pretense of sharing something but end up updating, chatting away, calming your hearts

becoming the second voice of reason, counting on the other to support and be the clarity when one is feeling distressed or unable to make a quick call of judgement or decision

encouraging freedom - two people with their own dreams and goals, respectful of space and time and working to maintain this even in a relationship; a powerful dynamic where the sky's the limit, and even then, you find a way to go above and beyond

having clear priorities and plans that span years, facing the future side by side and mapping it out against both individual and couple variables

seonghwa

feeling comfortable and safe to discuss feelings, fears, hopes, dreams, curled up on the couch together, drama left frozen on the television screen; bodies intertwined, hearts beating steadily, calmly, in a world built for two; deep conversations turning into pivotal moments, not being afraid to reveal and expose yourself to the other, being accepted and facing inner turmoil no longer alone

exploring and introducing each other to your interests and passions, learning and growing together, and in turn forming an even stronger connection through shared references, media, jokes; knowing each other's preferences and orders by heart, wordlessly sharing any meal with smiles on your faces and knowing what to send to one another when physically apart

order in a comfortable silence when doing chores or walking side by side in places you both love and cherish, wonderful chaos when both of you let go and play like kids again; reconnecting with all versions of yourselves and finding each one precious

encouraging each other to accept yourselves but also to expand horizons and to love both the world and the small things - operating by the “no harm in trying” principle

seeing each person as a universe, and other people, things, interests and events in their life as stars that form beautiful constellations - linking what is previously seen as disparate and making a new direction to develop into

making playlists for different moods, activities to suit the season, planning evenings days and mornings and then living through them with a serene enjoyment; reevaluating and rebuilding habits, finding fun in frustrations

returning home be it to an actual house or through the phone, talking about everything and nothing, and encouraging one another to try your best while maintaining a healthy balance

a safe space, because you are each other's home and no matter what you will be there to listen, to speak, to write the next lines in the poem of life together

yunho

reading each other's emotions and wordlessly showing support, be it through a touch of the hand or through the offering of a favourite snack or a kind word

playful competition, racing one another to the front door of your home, laughter ringing in the air; seeing the brighter side of the world together, and reminding one another that it exists when the going gets tough

spontaneous getaway to a beloved holiday destination, healing and relaxing together away from commotion and chaos - finding peace in quiet conversation and taking flights or drives as an opportunity to reflect, to free oneself and to simply focus on the journey itself

walking in nature, holding hands and listening to birdsong and shrill cries of cicadas - valuing the process of grounding oneself and listening to inner thoughts, beliefs and feelings

road trips and long walks, exploring new sights and making every place a shared new memory and a precious moment; moving beyond a set “base” when it comes to home, and treating the world like your home to find the place that you both truly belong to

remembering even the smallest events and details from years ago and holding them as invaluable, celebrating anniversaries by revisiting representations of said memories

quoting your favourite lines from films or video games, re-enacting scenes together and crafting impromptu performances in the living room before collapsing in adorable giggles

finding the world in one another’s eyes, catching each other off guard in the best way with sweet comments and with absent-minded touches of the hand, reassurance that even when your mind is elsewhere, you have an anchor, you have a person who you are racing… not against, but with

yeosang

perseverance - in times where you face trouble, a hurdle, a tumble downwards, you reach out to help the other to stand up again, and take pride in having gone through so much and now having that special someone with whom nothing is as scary

surrounding yourselves with kindness and positive energy - having a home that is safe, secure and reflects both of you perfectly; gradually and subtly learning about each other’s hidden parts, adoring them all the same

learning to accept help, and leaning on one another when difficulties arise; openly communicating and being able to voice concerns and questions - feeling comfortable to do so

playful banter and witticisms, knowing when to humble one another but also when to lift one another up; being able to non-verbally communicate when in larger groups

appreciating one another’s efforts and valuing improvements, hard work, acts of service that have been done discreetly

walking huddled under a large umbrella to your favourite cafe, ordering ice cream and drifting to the seats that have become yours and his; speaking quietly, recollecting the happenings of the day, calmly making puzzle pieces connect into a bigger picture

finding comfort in routine; one that starts as a schedule and slowly becomes automatic; you two moving in one space like in a fluid dance, clockwork from one task to another

playing not to win but for the sake of spending time together - becoming an unbeatable duo in matches and subconsciously knowing each other’s style and approach when it comes to both communication and video games

san

reading excerpts from books and poetry aloud to one another in the late evening, bundled up together in a warm throw blanket

learning your favourite songs, humming or singing them to you as you slow dance in the kitchen - monologues and confessions said through music and little gestures of affection, though in a private space, the words spill and you are wrapped in reassurance

hand on the small of your back, a subtle reminder of how even in the busiest spaces, in places where you feel like you are fading away, there is always someone beside you, ready to support you and someone who cares

recounting stories from childhood, talking about home together and building a new one, first through conversation, then in reality; seeing the picture of you and him as clear as day

headpats, nuzzling, ruffling of the hair, sleepy embraces in the early morning that transition into a hand on the thigh, a soft brush of the upper arm, a move of a strand of hair from your face, a stolen kiss, or simply sitting so close that you almost become one

learning to set up healthy boundaries, barriers and principles, and respecting each other’s - having unspoken unbreakable rules that lead to healthy communication and mutual support, and supporting one another in finding limits externally and enforcing them for the wellbeing of oneself

living passionately, and taking each day into the heart to experience it fully; taking the time to evaluate all of its elements and taking what serves you best while still appreciating things that might not be as valuable

remembering your roots and loving your origins, being proud of your individuality and of what an who you represent; finding or strengthening the connections with who you are and who you want to be, separately and together

mingi

waiting to watch a movie or a show together - watching it twice because you were analysing every moment and chatted away, intrigued by one another’s minds

dispelling each other’s concerns and worries when it comes to perception, communication and achievement - being able to whittle down to exact doubts and unravelling them until a smile forms on your beloved’s face

checking in on each other’s emotional capacity and learning to ask for signs when the other might overflow - encouraging minimising the bottling up of emotions and dedicating time to talk things through

spending time getting lost in history and in innovation, expanding intellectual horizons by visiting events, exhibitions, talks to see all that the creatives and innovators of the world are conjuring - pondering all you have witnessed together

giving each other courage, hyping each other up and loving every colour - inventing cheers and chants, secret handshakes, signals, making up songs about random things on the spot and their recital becoming a tradition

admiring differences, and studying them with a beautiful curiosity; not fearing to ask the ‘why’, the ‘how’ continuously because there is no limit to wonder

comfort in introspection and self-discovery; encouraging exploration of the self and of own interests, but always reconnecting, forming a network of possibility between thought, learnings, ideas

going with the flow, and bringing the flow to each other - sometimes, transition into a new landscape or environment is easy, other times, you need a helping hand; both of you are ready to lead the other into a new world and will wait for as long as necessary

wooyoung

family, the feeling of belonging - “you are my person and I will fight for you”; strong circle of trusted people, a network that you can rely on and of course, the strong bond between you

even when alone, you are not lonely; the feeling that even when you have to be apart for some time, you are still there with and for one another, one call away; even though you would be playful, you are always emotionally available, and past the teasing is boundless love

adventures to places far away, still home because it is the two of you travelling; exploring with an open mind and daring one another to step outside of comfort zones, to take the leap, to bloom

candlelit dinners after a cooking turned jam session - dancing with spatulas in hand, yelling out the lyrics to any and all songs, learning them on the fly; long stares and cheeky jokes exchanged across the table, dressing up for no reason except to impress each other

love that expands past the two of you - your friend groups, your families, pets… the social landscape is boundless and you trust each other to navigate it smoothly - permanent plus one, double trouble, partners in crime, the best team

gentle scolding to take care of yourselves, prioritising each other’s health and wellbeing, keeping each other out of harm’s way while retaining a fiery spirit

healing from past insecurities through words and actions - nurturing beauty that is both internal and external, and giving each other hope in every tomorrow through warm smiles and even warmer hugs

not being afraid to stand up for one another, for what you believe in, for the greater good - lover and fighter do go hand in hand after all, and lead to a respectful relationship where adventure and a blazing passion are still very much alive

jongho

evenings spent at a noraebang you now frequent, singing songs that have grown to describe your relationship, the months, years you have known one another; serenades you dedicate, classics you belt in a duet

retaining the air of pleasant mystery until both of you break into a grin and melt into a soft laughter; knowing glint in the eyes, you do not need to say much, for your actions speak volumes

being considerate, making space and in this way, turning home into an ideal, stable equilibrium where company feels natural, essential, even if all you do during the day is sit in different rooms - there is bliss in knowing that in that other room is the one you love and the one who loves you

walks in the park, stopping to sit on a bench in a particularly scenic spot overlooking a pond, under the trees - reminding each other to pause and to look around you, enjoying the moment and appreciating how much has changed, and for the better

beauty and love in order - from how you like your coffee, to what you prefer to wear and how, to how you carry yourself and to what side of your loved one you prefer to walk, these small points all make you who you are and are details that make your story

praising and joining in a little bit of mischief - you know you have to act a certain way, but sometimes, nothing feels better than letting go and playing a cute prank or a game

noticing the tiniest changes in one another, and either raising them as a question, or complimenting them depending on what it is - well-attuned, responsive, kind, attentive

sometimes, you might support different teams, or do so simply for harmless fun, but at the end of the day you find the same goals to score, the same game to place, and will always back each other up and assist towards great successes

8️⃣ taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @ssaboala @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @lightinyreads @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @alyszaen @archivesummer @little-angel-k @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy

[pocketjoong-reads]

Black Ocean

Black Ocean is a series of 8 connected oneshots happening in the same universe. Are you ready to dive in the lives of eight notorious Pirates known as Ateez?

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Ateez members x female readers

Status: on-going

A/N: I will start a taglist, so if you're interested, please comment on this post! Because this is a multi-chaptered series of oneshots, the female readers will be given names which will be used only if they get mentioned in a different members oneshot. You can read them as stand-alones, however, some happenings from previous oneshots will be mentioned here and there, so everything will be connected still. (divider)

1.Park Seonghwa

◆Compass of our hearts

Summary: Park Seonghwa was an orphan. The day Captain Kim found him on the shore the only thing he had with himself in the little basket was a golden compass, his mother's name craved inside it. Seonghwa cherished it dearly and worked hard to find out where he belonged to. However, as a pirate, you make a lot of enemies and you decided to make Seonghwa yours the day you stole his compass. It was your first mistake, you messed with a feared pirate. Your second mistake was not realizing that Seonghwa would find you, and take his compass back as well. (Reader is called Kim Bora in the following oneshots.)

2.Choi Jongho

◆Lullaby of the seas

Summary: Choi Jongho could be described as a dreamer; he loved folklore and fairytales. His father was a sailor and often brought his son out on the sea with himself, thus they lived off of selling fish and pearls. Jongho was well raised and always kind, a very hard-working son, therefore it came as no surprise that he accepted the job offer of a mysterious pirate when his father's house got destroyed by a storm. Jongho was quiet and didn’t bother others, did his job very well and secretly fantasized about meeting a mermaid one day. There was one tiny problem though, the seas they sailed had no mermaids in them, only vicious sirens out for the blood of unassuming pirates and sailors. (Reader is called Sunmi in the following oneshots.)

3.Choi San

◆An Imprisoned Nightingale

Summary: Choi San was everything you needed him to be. A hunter? He’d hunt down anything for you. An assassin? You wanted someone dead, he’d do it. An inside man? That information you needed; he’d bring it to you. He was a mercenary. Ruthless, fearless, uncaring, unfeeling. All he dreamed of was money and power. Everyone who heard his name feared him, people stepped aside on a busy road for him, women never approached him out of fear of being captured and then sold by him. You loved singing, despite working as a waitress, you dreamed of performing on a stage one day. Your whole life you've worked hard, knowing that one day you'll be discovered and your life would change; you'd become a performer for the wealthy. And your life did change, but instead, you became a prisoner, soon to be sold off by nobody else than Choi San. (Reader is called Im Ara in the following oneshots.)

4.Kim Hongjoong

◆The Nightfury

Summary: When Captain Kim died Hongjoong was only fifteen years old. He couldn't let his father's name go in vain, he took over the ship and became the next Captain Kim, better known as The Slayer. Everyone feared Hongjoong and his crew, Ateez. Everyone except you. You met in an Inn when you both were younger and tricked him into threatening an innocent man, and then you robbed him. You thought it was funny how such a powerful and feared man was so easy to play with, so you started your little game of sabotaging Hongjoong's affairs, unknowing that you were playing with fire. Would The Nightfury or The Slayer win once their swords clashed against each other? (Reader is called Lee Yuri in the following oneshots.)

5.Jeong Yunho

◆Irrevocable Love

Summary: Jeong Yunho was always protective of what was his. After his mother's death he stopped living a happy life, his father an alcoholic, his best friend was his only hope. The two of you had grown up together and you couldn't imagine living your life without Yunho, so when he tried to sneak onto the Pirate ship and leave without you, you were beyond hurt. Yunho only wanted to protect you, but he wasn't going anywhere without you. And so, the two of you joined Ateez on their adventures, starting your own love story at the same time. (Reader is called Bae Taeri in the following oneshots.)

6.Kang Yeosang

◆Salty tears, agog whispers

Summary: Kang Yeosang was forced to flee from his once very familiar life as he killed his father. He didn't mean to do it, but he harmed his mother and Yeosang just couldn't sit and watch anymore. You have never had an easy life. You were sold off at a young age, then bought, then sold, then bought again and sold again. It was a neverending cycle. You were just a toy for men to use and then disregard of; you wanted to disappear. And one man almost granted your wish, he killed you, or so he thought...and so did you. But an angel, a kind-hearted man, saved you from your terrible fate. You found a family, just like he did so many years ago. Yeosang was your angel. (Reader is called Jung Hana in the following oneshots.)

7.Jung Wooyoung

◆Heavy is the head that wears the crown

Summary: Jung Wooyoung was a prince. Raised to be a King one day. Except that nobody asked him if he wanted to become one, it was his duty. Wooyoung thought he'd be able to travel the world, sail out and go on adventures, however that is just not how his story was written. So, one day, when he was only thirteen years old, he decided to take the pen in his own hands and change his own story. He became a Pirate. You, you were also a princess, soon to become Queen. Your groom disappeared when the two of you were thirteen and you figured you wouldn't get married now, so there was no reason to stay at your castle and live a boring life. You ran away, living quietly and humbly. That is, until Wooyoung came stumbling through your living room door. (Reader is called Oh Haneul in the following oneshots.)

8.Song Mingi

◆Fine Line Of Our Worlds

Summary: Song Mingi didn't choose to become a Pirate, but after getting saved by the crew, he decided to stay. Nobody at home would miss him, they didn't like him much. However, he would miss his riches dearly, teeth always aching for gold and money. He was a little kleptomaniac, it's mostly why he was punished so often back at home. But here, with Ateez, he was free to do whatever and he loved the idea. You were also rich, very rich. You had ties to the royal family, but never said much about it since it was due to your mother's bloodline, who died giving birth to you. You were daddy's little girl, always getting whatever you wanted, never reprimanded for anything. But your life was boring, you were closed inside your mansion's walls all day long and the only people you could torment to have fun were your maids, who grew tired of your antics. Let's not forget the fact that you also loved stealing. It started out as a little talent of yours when you were just a child, but growing up you realized it became a very unconscious habit. And one night, Mingi seemed to come into your life just at the right moment, sweeping your off your feet, quite literally, and taking you onto a Pirate ship, your fates interlacing forever. (Reader is called Yoon Areum in the following oneshots.)

[pocketjoong-reads]

First things first, thank you so much for writing this beauty 😭😭😭😭 KSHKJHDJKS STAR CODED??? I WILL SOB!!!🫶🫶 Second, let’s talk about the header for a sec??? THE PICTURES YOU CHOSE OF SEONGJOONG??? AKUSDGBSANJSD *Alexa play inception* I’m in love oooooo ooooo~

This is so soft?! Like… idk i am imagining those really wholesome art pieces that show wholesome nighttime scenes and this fic reminds me of those! Also, I love how the little timestamps show us snapshots of the relationship between them T^T I’m just very asdfghjk rn fr~ Their cheeks are warm. You love them. And what if I sob rn? What then???? STARGAZING???? AKJSHGDBSNHJK????

Seonghwa takes a seat in the middle, and taps the two spaces either side of him excitedly. I totally did not imagine a smiley-hwa wrapped up in a fluffy jacket excitedly gesturing for joong and yn to join him AJSHNA WHY SO CUTE????!!! 

This is so beautiful. Seriously. So sweet and soft and just so domestic?!!! Thank you for writing this seriously T^T I wish I could articulate how much I love this better, but you’ll have to make do with keyboard smashes skjdhgbnsmsjhdgbsnjhdgbxnhbfgvcbxnjdhgfv

of record players and things we said after midnight | k.hj, p.sh

× minors/ageless/empty blogs dni. you will be blocked. ×

× main masterlist ×

pairing: kim hongjoong x park seonghwa x gn!reader

genre: slice of life, romance

warnings: established poly relationship, fluff, allusions to sex, alcohol/food/eating, references to rough work schedules and strict sleeping routines, stargazing

word count: 1.1k

a/n: for the wonderful sky, aka @pocketjoong. i really hope you enjoy this short sweet one-shot (and perhaps it is an extremely belated birthday present!) p.s: i don't know if you've seen that poll going round - "is the person you reblogged this from sun/moon etc. coded" - but while of course you are sky coded, you are very star coded to me: much like a star, whenever you pop up, a smile comes on my face 🫶🫶

00:03. Hongjoong has a plethora of records.

You and Seonghwa know he’d been steadily growing his collection for the last three years. A well-paying job and months of saving paid for his hobby.

Of course, the most expensive thing he needed to buy was a record player to play said discs. Hongjoong had said for the longest time that the vinyls were just aesthetic, and yet he never took his eyes off them when trawling websites into the early hours of the morning.

You and Seonghwa had pulled together enough resources to gift him one for his birthday last year, and it’s sat proudly on his desk in his studio ever since. He’ll never admit to the tears he shed and the two of you will never bring up the fact that you noticed him tucking them under his sleeve.

You both care too much to embarrass him.

-×-

00:27. Seonghwa can’t remember the last time he stayed up so late.

He thanks - or blames - his sleeping schedule for sending him to bed before the clock strikes twelve. It’s a price to pay when the workload is so rough it calls for a routine so strict.

He told himself he could let go this weekend. He’d had too many stresses and with a vacation week right around the corner, he knows he can let it go for a few days.

You let him rest his head on your lap even still, the fatigue catching up when he remembers how many hours he’s spent staring at screens. When you thread your fingers through his hair, it’s a lot softer than you ever remember it being.

A smile lands on your face. “You used the hair mask I bought you.”

Seonghwa’s eyes are closed and his breathing is so calm and even. The faint click-clack of Hongjoong messing around on his computer is briefly interrupted.

Seonghwa grins. “I hadn’t pampered myself in some time.”

Hongjoong’s heart swells, as does your own. It’s the kind of care you’re both happy Seonghwa gave himself.

-x-

00:54. You always meld into that one spot on the leather sofa.

Its wrinkles and creases understand your presence. It’s your home away from home, your favourite sweater; anytime Hongjoong finds you sitting there he becomes so overwhelmed, but hides it behind a mere dimpled grin. “That’s become your favourite spot,” he once remarked.

The acknowledgment made you shy. “It’s really nice to sit here.”

Hongjoong would later tell you exactly how that made him feel. He would show you too, breathing fanning on your neck, Seonghwa’s lips on your shoulder.

Seonghwa provides a demo over the track Hongjoong is playing around with; there’s no mic, it’s not being recorded anywhere, but you listen to his quiet humming regardless.

It ticks something in your brain and you throw in some light harmonies. Hongjoong wishes he could capture it but doesn’t move.

That’s a memory he can save for later.

-×-

01:13. The three of you don’t know when it clicked.

There were days you would stroll through the local grocery store as a trio, little fingers hooked together and it didn’t mean a thing. Still, it meant everything.

The simplicity of knowing, the beauty of feeling, it’s never needed any words to make sense of it.

The sense was in the making already.

Ice-cream aisles and mulling over which flavour to get knowing you all have different tastes. Reaching in your pockets and buying for each other because that’s what made you so connected.

It’s only a two-course meal tonight and Seonghwa’s cooking. Hongjoong stirs the pot and you dice the vegetables. Very few words are spoken but that’s how you know your dynamic is to die for.

You press a kiss on both of their cheeks. The three of you don’t know when it clicked.

Perhaps there was nothing to click. The foundation was there already. Their cheeks are warm. You love them.

-×-

01:28. Schedules never allowed for late night delivery.

You’re sitting in different places. No longer on the sofa, no longer resting on the lap, no longer glued to the mouse and keyboard.

But it’s a familiarity even still - you’re in a circle on the floor and Hongjoong is dishing out the meals. Seonghwa offers you some of his food, and you make sure Hongjoong has enough for himself, and Hongjoong fills Seonghwa’s water up so he stays hydrated.

“I should put a record on,” says Hongjoong.

Seonghwa smiles. “Play our favourite.”

-×-

01:42. It’s at times like these you remember why you love each other.

Hongjoong has been told twice to keep his voice down and you’re laughing your head off at a joke Seonghwa told. There’s a mess you have to clean but that can wait a little while.

Hongjoong takes your hand and pulls you close to him. You share a kiss as the low hum of a 70s record plays in the background. Seonghwa soon follows and he’s twirling Hongjoong around in an effort to get him to dance.

Grabbing the camera off the desk, you take so many pictures of this moment.

“What a miracle: Hongjoong’s dancing and Seonghwa isn’t it bed yet!” you chuckle.

They love you so much.

-×-

02:00. There’s a perfect spot outside the studio to look at the stars.

It dawns on all of you that it’s something you’ve never done before. Seonghwa is upset at this fact, and takes this as an opportunity to gather some blankets together and put them down on a grass verge.

When you step outside, it’s incredibly brisk, but one look up and you notice it’s a completely clear night.

As though the clouds knew you had a prior engagement with the stars.

Seonghwa takes a seat in the middle, and taps the two spaces either side of him excitedly.

Hongjoong left the door open slightly, and one of the records was still playing.

You had brought the three beer bottles that you’d ordered with your delivery, but hadn’t opened yet.

As though it was tradition, you open each other’s bottles and clink the necks together to make the most satisfying sound.

With a single sip, Hongjoong exhales. “I hope we can do this more often.”

Seonghwa’s eye catches Orion’s belt. “If it’s clear, perhaps we could do this every night next week.”

You rest your head on Seonghwa’s shoulder, and your hand reaches round to clasp fingers with Hongjoong.

“Let’s toast to a week of clear skies. Maybe the universe will listen.”

You make a toast, and the soft crackles of the record indicate the song is nearing its close.

Against the silence of night, you gaze up at the stars.

-×-

02:20.

Whenever it clicked, you’re glad it did.

× yoo-jeongneon ×

[pocketjoong-reads]

part one, CLEARING OUT : "𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞-𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞" 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 | park seonghwa x fem!reader x choi san

“Brother, can’t you see I’m doing this for you? Enjoy yourself.”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : Picking your own poison, if poison was given to you in form of bankrolls by venomous men with high demands.

In which Park Seonghwa had a plan and Choi San has ideas.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying her more than anything."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : noir, smut, angst | korean mafia/geondal!au | ceo/jaebeol!au

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 18.2k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : entitled rich people, workplace harassment, alcoholism, softdom ceo!seonghwa (headman park), half-drunk satoori-using dom mafiaboss!san (mr. choi), both are called by their names at some point, sub-leaning bratty switch servant!femreader, use of (pet-)names (missy, baby, princess), groping, thigh-riding, light choking, light hair-pulling, non-penetrative sex, voyeur!seonghwa, sex in the elevator, counts as mirror sex right, biting kink, manhandling!san, edging, breeding, cum-eating (m), cunnilingus; reader hates the rich except for when they are sexy, implied but not severe age gap, writer does not have daddy kink but mafiaboss!san does, gunshots and death, use of korean proverbs

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : this with the next part will be the origin story for reader, specifically the series synopsis’ first half :) originally, this has been a request, so please read this, if you desire to have a bit more insight to what the series actually is + translations of certain terms (mostly character dynamics) in this chapter !!

tl;dr: since it's all based around korean mafia/gangster/etc, there will be korean culture scattered between the lines. it is all translated, hopefully in an understandable way!!! (please hmu if there are difficulties) i let out honorifics/romanisation, except for "chaebol" since it's an actual word :) that being said, reader's ethnicity is not specified and won't be relevant to the series in any way !! 

smut comes after the second border, and uh,,, i had to shorten that shit (pls dont ask me where) but uh. you’re getting 8k words of smut so buckle up LMAO !!! i hope you enjoy as much as i did writing it !!! thank you for likes, reblogs and feedback xoxo (also this is NOT beta-read so pls dont hesitate to tell me about... like.... errors, tags and shit)

[ now playing : money ▸ pink floyd | listen to the playlist ]

It's getting repetitive. They are drinking their ninth bottle of expensive whiskey, smoking their third or fourth disgustingly pricey cigar— what the fuck, is this seriously what the upper men of your nation are doing at some stupid chairman’s dinner party?

“Missy!”

“Me, sir?”

No wonder the economy's fucking shit.

“Yeah, you, missy, give that gent over there one of our divine Denmarks!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Give him a kiss too, while you’re at it! What do you think? He’s still got it, no?”

Said ‘gent’, some old, scummy clown— winks at you, his gray eyelashes fluttering towards your direction.

“Yes, sir."

God, how bad you wish you had snuck your phone in to take a picture of these red, drunken, senseless faces, but you're a dutiful servant, abiding by the rules at all times, however difficult it may be. You’re holding in your puke professionally, not even doing something as to grit your teeth, just softly letting your jaw play along to your friendly smile.

“Does your willy even still work that way, old friend?", a cranky, yet humorous voice pitches in.

Agreeing to your supervisor’s offer to earn “big money” may have been a bad idea, but a good choice. Jongho said he’d seen you at your work, took special note of you— even though you weren’t sure where exactly he had observed you, since it’s only been a month of actually working as a servant in the lower tiers of the building— and wanted to give you a chance to swim with the big sharks. “I think you’re best suited for the job,” is what he said to make you giggle and think about your initial rejection of his proposition, “you have a talent for serving.”

Something you didn’t know you had, something you didn’t know someone would see in you ever in your life, “talent.” Sure, maybe you let yourself be persuaded a bit too fast, but it felt very touching that somebody saw you and saw potential, for whatever occasion it may be for. You don’t necessarily want to screw the rules of the hierarchical pyramid or what it was that kept you from being in the proximity of the chairman, but you really need the extra cash right now.

"What does a girl from the mountains look for in being a servant in the city?", had been the question you were asked by Lady Kim who gave you the leftovers of her restaurant at the end of the day, when you had just started with the training– poor, barely standing on your own feet. 

You remember how you explained to her that the buddhist monks who raised and send you here surrounded themselves with wells to remind everyone that water always returned, and you assumed it would work the same with wealth. You also remember how hard she tried to stay kind to you, showing you her sincerest sympathy by telling you that "the chaebol are no joke!" (at least not a joke, an innocent girl like you could laugh about, she later explained) and giving you an extra portion of her home-made dumplings to suit you up.

Her sharp, yet compassionate voice rings in your ears, as you reapply your red lipstick on the way to your target guest. Oh, Lady Kim, what a graceful woman– she put her all into her work for her restaurant to succeed, but had always made a place to share what she had for those who needed it. Such a lovable woman, she must have been well-liked by all around her.

You get it now, the way you had been so naive back then. Floating on the philosophical happy-go-lucky psyche of the city’s promise of prosperity, trying to live the Korean dream strangely enough as someone who was so sarcastically out of touch with it. If you had been in her position, you wouldn’t have been able to be as nice, no, would have warned yourself with a finger pointed upwards as if you were teaching a little kid about strangers, or how your monks said, ‘tigers in the woods’.

“After that cigar, his dick will turn to dust!”

Maybe things would have looked different, if you hadn’t taken that fund from the school’s superintendent, who slid you that card on your table with a smirk on his face. Oh dear, do you remember how excited you had been? You ran through the streets in your worn-out shoes with that plastic sheet in your hand, on your way to tell that the money on it was such a ridiculously high number that you could split— but Lady Kim had got to know it first, the ridiculousness of the rich, with the demolition of her restaurant-building.

“He’s got no cum in his nutsacks ‘no more anyway!”

No warning, no compensation, just everything crushed to pieces to make place for the big corporations; the fancy neon-signs she'd invested in, the ambition of her enthusiastic dreams, your only source of tender charity, shattered to a wreck. You have never seen her since, and can only laugh about how the fancy food of the chaebol—and you definitely know who they are now, those tasteless men gawking at you in the moment—doesn’t even look half as good as her low-cost black bean noodles you could more than afford now. 

The present day-you is less dreamy, but just as lost, forced to work off a debt you hadn’t been informed about when you lived off the favorable “fund”-money. No, Lady Kim, this is all a joke, you would tell her today. A really fucking bad one.

So, making room for another ha-ha in your life, you pulled your eyes up innocently, returning Jongho’s specious smiles. “Is it illegal to collect pocket-money from the rich?” It’s not like you had any doubts at that point, but 'they'll buy you out of prison if you’re good enough' was all you needed anyway to put your uniform on tightly at home.

"Can't even shoot his cum in missy to save his blood!"

Your more experienced co-workers are watching you work with a condescending frown, feeling both jealous you're getting all the men's attention, but also maliciously delighted you're being challenged as the new-coming servant who's obviously of erotic interest to these richlings. They want you to get a "taste of life" for you may be the most goody-goody fawning bitch they have ever seen; just a young birdbrain who has nothing to bring to the table except her body. Young thing won’t hold up, doesn't know who she's working with— though they are quite right about that part, you must admit, you frankly didn’t look up whose money you’re taking right now— she doesn’t know who the fuck she is.

"What? Did his son leave the company, too?"

It’s flattering to know that the other pretty servants look at you and only see some candy-coated muppet, but fairly, your ever-frozen smile on your face doesn’t give them much to work with. You’re simply an annoyance to their routine, and if you could, you would like to comfort them by saying none of the money you’re getting will stay in your hands– they’d be so happy to hear that you’re really worth nothing– but you must stay focused.

“Idiot, he’s only got a daughter!”

So yes, that being said, you’re glad nobody ever asks you about you. Everyone just assumes, judges from what they see, and if what they see is an opportunistic bimbo-girl chasing money, then so be it, right?

"You know, the one he married off to the governor?”

Right. Because you too have not a single second to think nor talk about your past. The present is scarce and the future is fragile, you know it the best. And you owe it to your old men to make the best out of their efforts, don't you? The air in this room may not be the one you inhaled in the mountains, but you still have to use it, breathe, be alive, despite how moldy and spoiled it simmers in your throat.

"Real mad! Anything to avoid that fee, huh, missy? Got no semen and no glory! You really want to give him that cigar?”

So, that taste of life? Fucking bitter, just like how that name 'missy' seeps and sweats on your tongue. You can’t loathe your co-workers for this reason, they're basically in the same wooden, shaky boat as you, but these asswipes here are floating on a fucking yacht. Of course they don't follow some type of code of human decency for you, they don't give two shits about the lowlifes, the poor. They watch them like a spectacle, and because they don't regard you as a human-being but rather a toy, they play with you on strings that are, on the other hand, binding together a big, fat bankroll.

Ka-Ching.

Eyes on the price, Y/N, eyes on the price. You may not own a lot, that's been more than established, but if there is something you have, it's dutifulness, commitment, and proficiency. It will remain difficult to keep inner peace and honor with a job of which "duty" it is to be a deferential, subservient doll, but at least you're alive and well, soon to leave this floor with more money to your name that these fuckers don't know anyway, right? Never let that smile drop, smart girl. You have a talent, just like your supervisor said. Just keep on serving.

“No children-makin' is better for the cheatin'— ha!”, the barren, that fruitless man who’s been made fun of whoops in to stand up for himself, and awaits his tobacco that's being driven to him by your cart.

You open up the wooden chest in which the cheroots, so unnecessarily gold-plated, sit and ridicule you with their rare existence. There are just thousands of dollars sitting in your hand right now, and as you fetch the thick roll with wary fingers, you think, fucking hell, this could feed so many people, and they're just smoking it away like it's nothing, assholes.

The other servants frown at you spitefully during the time you bow down. You're sensually placing the brown cylindrical object into his mouth, a match lighting held to his face to light it up. In addition to the experience, you hold one long stare with his washy eyes, because you assume it will ignite him.

And, oh, how excited he gets.

"Thank you, sir," you chuckle and flutter with your eyelashes, pursing up your lips like you’re an innocent little girl getting a piece of candy behind her parents’ back.

“Just mad! Missy's young enough to be your grandchild, fella!”

You’re aware of exactly what your dear co-workers are thinking, but being ordered to light their cigs and then ogled at is not "baby-treatment” or whatever they’re muttering under their breath, it's your subtle strategy to have that bankroll be slid between your thighs.

"Hey now, I still can get it on! Don't you think so too, missy?"

Dumb Y/N, only has money on her mind. Allows herself to be called "missy", like a dumb fucking slut. 

Hm, kind of has a ring to it, don't you think?

"Yes, sir."

Let them all think you're a dummy. Let them believe, believe each other's words in whatever they fucking want. You're almost too certain it's the secret reason Jongho offered you a place here anyway; "suited for the job", because he deems you dense enough to not understand any of the nonsense these twelve men are babbling, "big money", because he knows you will do anything for it. 

You’ll still take the talent, but if he really thinks the rest, then oh, sucks to be him.

Yes, you haven’t looked up the names of who the men here are for the same reasons they're not using yours, but the second you’re out of this whiny, weak testosterone-drowned room, you're going to write the most thorough blackmail, because you can not listen to their cheating, money-laundering, corrupted bullshit anymore. Getting involved with the handshakers is the last thing you should do if you want to live a silent, carefree life, and you know this too well, but they're not going to believe it was you anyway. They wouldn’t dream of their missy to do such a competent, smart thing. You even know what you're going to write under the letter so they have something to think about in their cells: 'birds listen to the words of day, mice to the words at night'— walls have ears, too.

Ah, the soft, sometimes very cryptic voice of your favorite old monk. Always there to teach you new things, remind you of how to live your life cheerfully. You still believe he would have rather kept you in the mountains and not drop you on a wild voyage into the unknown urban life, but your old man had his reincarnation coming. You should visit his grave again, it's been a while, hasn't it? Wouldn't he be so proud to see you? To see how much his little Y/N has grown and learnt, using his proverbs to restore justice? Well, for what you still can collect of your late mentor, he would probably make big eyes and use his whole body to keep your monetary gift away from him. "Teacher," you would ask, "don't you at least want to save?", and his answer would remain the same;

"Peace comes free."

You feel warm at the distant memory of the bald-headed man warming himself in his orange gown, teaching you about love, harmony and kindness, but that sweet veil of untainted innocence has long dropped from your eyes.

In front of you, you see tycoons continuing having a blast being their shitty selves, and as golden teeth blend your sight, they are entertaining each other by staring at your legs that are covered by your sheer black stockings, whispering their insight of how you'd look like under it, but the mini-skirt only leaves so much for imagination.

"Sweet missy!"

How could you not want to spit into their face? They have bought the war. They have bought the chaos. And why? Just because they can. It doesn't cost you anything to restore some peace, maybe that’s the thing your old man got right.

"Yes, sir?”

“Do you have any Cubans left, sweet missy?”

“A Cuban, coming right up, sir.”

“Hopefully someone’s gonna come after the party tonight!”

Are you humiliated? As someone who lived among the wisest, clearest heads, and was considered just as smart by them to be wished a ‘more fortunate life’ — No.

You couldn’t care less about their perversions. Especially now, when they seemingly don’t care enough to know your name you've introduced yourself with. You are here for one reason, and it's not to prove your worth to the world, it's to secure your place in it, get that parasitic debt off your shoulders.

And if anything, as long you are staying truthful to yourself, there’s nothing that could take away your spirit. That’s what you want to believe, at least. When you’re out of debt and continue with this job, you could spend every day downtown like the other servants, but for you, it's all going to the savings for the family you're going to feed with not one worry in life on the clear land in the mountains, not under a sky that's polluted by light even when the sun has set.

The clock has announced night long time ago. Outside the windows, there shines and roams a loud, restless city under a starless, foggy black blanket, inhabited by people like you who live day by day to make their living, like small flies forgathered in a hive of exhausting labor, buzzing their life away.

It’s what you think every time you peek down the glass room: Seoul has never looked so small. Across and around the ever-flowing Han-River, the metropole is the home of millions who are looking up with their heads far back their necks to the point right here, where you stand, at the center or peak of all the wealth gathered together, inside the highest building standing tall amidst of the tumult, on the 114th floor, towering over the world in a luxurious dining room decorated by exotic animals, marbled statues and most importantly the filthy glimmer of something they call ‘class’.

“Missy,” the chairman calls out for you, raising his hand, right after he’s made another infidelity joke and showed his luxurious wedding ring to the audience.

“Yes, sir?”, you call out, wearing your pristine servant-smile with your hands folded nicely in front of your stomach, voice not tainted by your disgust as to even one note, despite the other servants looking at you with hateful expressions. They wish you the worst; the worst treatment, the worst performance, anything to get you out of this place. 

Maybe they're driven by the same instincts and avarice that makes you hate the rich,  with them just thinking you're taking away their money, but it's free territory here with these predators; you just make for great prey.

It’s a challenge to all of the people involved and the contestants can only win. Will it be another pick-up line? You're going to pick on that with ease. Another joke about your age? That one is never going to get old. There, bring it on, you think, and feel proud of your confident spirit, ready to run with whatever they throw and stash it into your wallet.

“You see those youngsters back there? Get 'em some more ice."

“Yes, sir.”

“Chaps don't know how to drink the good stuff yet, what a waste! Next time, buy 'em the cheap soju from the mart! The ones for 5,000 Won, missy, you know those?”

“Yes, sir.” Your whole face flashes a smile, bowing to accept the task of refilling some ice, dragging your cart across the room, as male laughter rings in your ears. It's as if they don't realize they also drink cheap liquor, but you suppose that's forgettable when they are flushing the fanciest of meats down with it.

"Be careful, missy!"

Are you being too mild by saying you want to ram the green glass-bottles into their heads?

"They bite!”

Maybe choke them with their own money bills?

Yes, “Yes, sir.”

It's a fun exercise to fantasize about how to hurt them, so you thought you would be busy enough to ignore the chairman's warning, but as you are on your long way to the end of the even longer glass table to push your cart towards the men he is referring to, there's a growing feeling inside your guts that oh, the chairman may be ... 

Huh, right for the first time. The quizzical lump expands warmly as much as it is cold, with goosebumps running down your spine, your hands feeling hotter than ever over the metal cart. Your whole body is trying to signal you that something is off on the other side of the table, but you don’t know whether to ignore it or run.

The annoying, empty-minded, impertinent elders, who have been belly-laughing at the chairman's joke a second ago stop with their chatting and only exhale huffs, and prolong them nervously, that’s off. The servants gulping, loosening their crossed arms– that’s off, too. 

“So, uhh… Where was the, uh– food from?”

“Oh, lad, good topic, yes– the delicious food…”

It seems that everyone in the room is trying to fill in the silence with the fakest of laughter, so the chairman can move on from the topic, but you're well over your way there, uninformed to what you're going to be hit with once you halt.

Tycoons like them usually don't need back-checking. You know how to deal with ill-willed imbeciles that only use their estate as a weapon. Their bodies and brains have passed prime an eternity ago. Left behind are only their numbed minds that seek shelter in lust, ecstasy and aphrodisia because nothing else excites them anymore. They’re what you probably would have been if you hadn’t spent your teens brewing tea and listening to the leaves rustle, not experiencing all euphoria and more at a too early age– they’re washed out, just swimming in money they haven't worked a day for, are lazy, weary sloths.

However, opposed to the cloudiness in their class that's only getting more foggier through the many years of monopoly, these two men that are waiting in front of you, and you understand why your lungs are pinging now, they are potent.

Money is power, but twist it around and there is them, with that; a certain force that the rich ooze out by just acting and looking a certain way, and oh, Y/N, how they are, how they are looking at you right now, best believe you have to hold onto your strength like it's a small purse.

'Youngsters', he said— 'they bite', he said.

They have been rarely reacting to the chairman’s words, notwithstanding being the ones to be the most respectful in this meeting for their young age, just looking at each other with unamused eyes. Even the director who is older than the chairman lets out his best holler every time, but these two have not laughed once at his jokes, not the slightest chuckle has left their mouths to flatter or satisfy the chairman.

Interesting.

Both black-haired, the one you get to first has his mane gelled back, a cigarette hanging out his scarred mouth, as you approach his seat with your cart walking carefully practiced steps. His white shirt is opened up to where chains, most importantly a silver cross, hang from his collarbones to his chest that’s covered with scars and scratches you can’t quite identify how they got there. This man looks gigantic, muscular, dangerous. Shoulders terrifyingly broad popping out his black vest, he sits on his seat with widened legs, thighs flattened in his also black pants, fastened by a leather belt, and with his white sleeves pulled back to his elbows, his slightly tanned forearms only appear more huge after the rather average-looking wristwatch catches your eye, just when you stop with your cart in front of him.

“That old geezer just can’t keep his mouth shut, can he?”, he chuckles, the Gyeongsang-provincial dialect rolling so naturally off his tongue. Everyone else in the room has been faking their speech to cosplay a charm they didn’t possess, but even the slight lisp and lull from the drunkenness are not hiding how deeply masculine and sincere this man’s voice sounds. It’s a mixture of the sarcasm you've gotten used to by now, but also a brashness that the older men lack, and you’re a bit embarrassed to say it’s working you up a bit. "Empty carts rattle loudest, I say."

A wintry breeze goes through your breast and you feel your eyebrows flinch. You haven't heard that grandmotherly expression in so long, that it does feel somehow refreshing to reconcile with it, but maybe the whisk you sense shouldn’t feel as comforting given the way the man is looking up to you brazenly with a bit of atrocity in his appearance. He is far away from the serene sketch you drew to save the vision as you left the village, he is what you felt when you took your first train, asphyxiated by the big masses of people who you would never see again— an unhomely, yet intimate feeling of... adventure.

He glances through you smoking his cigarette with no hands attached, and it moves at the corner of his lip as he talks. Wait, cigarette? Missy, did you forget to bring him a cigar?

"Let's see when he runs out of words."

“It’s alright, sir,” you answer, suppressing a slight chuckle because yes, you too have been wishing the chairman would finally shut the fuck up, but haven't expected anyone to say it out loud that boldly. You watch the male in front of you take out the slim roll from his mouth with his thick fingers that are covered with silver rings that all look different and not matching each other, blowing out the smoke whilst maintaining eye contact with you. “If you require, I can bring you a cigar, sir," you say, but he waves his hand to brush off your offer.

“Ah, they give me bad breath.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please," the man progresses instantaneously, scratching over the vertical scar at his lip-corner with his thumb, his ciggy continues to burn, "Do be so kind and give brother his ice," then smiles, "he needs to preserve his cold head.”

“You are one to talk about keeping mouths shut,” the ‘brother’ answers, voice velvety and adequate despite dissing the man that’s sunken unmannerly into his seat, while he, on the other hand, is sitting up straight, his black suit buttoned up, tie set cleanly under his ironed pearl-white collars, elegantly decorated by a golden pin. A Greek "π" is chiseled into it, and you recognize it so well for you’ve seen it written all over the tall buildings you drove by on your way here. His hair is combed evenly to the sides and the more you look at him, he’s just— wow, flawless, prestigious, expensive. Everything about him is crystal clear; his rich voice, his unblemished skin, his eyes, oh god, you just noticed those eyes, how does such a shameful man have such pure eyes?

Orbs— and they're not innocent as much as you can't say they're not guilty— are looking at you with a defiance that is suffocating, as if you ought to do everything perfectly, not miss a single twitch of his eyebrows to understand whether he's enjoying or disapproving of the situation.

Well, is he enjoying you or disapproving of the way you're listening to his partner's order to refill his ice?

Huh. No fucking idea. He probably doesn't, but you must do it still— must still serve.

It feels irrationally sheep-headed, but hey, being a sheep is your job, is it not? Being in this herd is keeping you alive, and even in this situation, where you are following the orders of the blackest of sheep, no, wolves that can't be covered by any fluffy wool— you must mow your best.

"Ohh, brother, it's been a while since I heard you talk! Feels lonely droppin' all the good sayings by myself."

You’re serving Choi San and CEO of PARA-conglomerate, headman Park Seonghwa.

Sat right across the chairman, the percentage this couple holds of his company-share is more than most of the attending seniors combined, which makes them stand at the top of the guest-list. You couldn’t have missed their names, even if you’ve made the attempt to, and the other information you’re getting is just your co-workers whispering hurried words to each other, and it seems to you that you may be more in need of them than ever.

You already eavesdropped on them a little, and to be honest, you didn’t need any real confirmation that everyone in this room was unlawful and corrupt, but it is good to know you really don’t have to feel guilty stashing those bankrolls into your purse.

The man that is licking the tail of his scar at his lip, rolling his neck, clicking with his mouth and tapping his fingers onto the table, he is rumored to be the boss of the Choi-Clan, the infamous ‘Mad Dog of Namhae’, whose face had been unknown. The chairman has made a drunken joke about allegedly trying to sell him off to the government— “everybody act like you don’t know, okay?”— and nobody had taken him seriously, but once the supposed mafiaboss had entered the room, an hour later than everyone else, and sat down comfortably like nothing was strange about his heavy breath and slightly purple knuckles, nobody dared to say something else.

If you’d heard beforehand that you would be meeting a CEO and a mafiaboss today, you don’t know if you would have acted any differently. Thinking, here comes the chairman, his jesters, the mafia-guy, the chaebol; ah, all the motherfuckers aligned, let’s get to work, shall we? 

But this does challenge you a bit, indeed. If they just weren’t so young and intimidatingly good-looking, fuck, you could have treated them in the same cookie-cutter way you’d been at perfectly.

Maybe a bit of change-up won’t hurt, you were starting to get a bit too irritated anyway.

"Control yourself."

“You wanna see him dead too, brother,” the smoking male sneers— you’ll call him ‘Mr. Choi’ for now— pointing at his companion to accuse him of being a yawner, his cigarette stuck between his fingers.

Headman Park smirks with a short twitch of his lips that makes you think you just imagined it, but none of his extremities has moved since you came here: Every single action he takes seems so... calculated, thought through, measured, planned out. He is the only one to have brought a briefcase to the dinner, and looks a little bit out of place with his sober expressions which seem to you as if he was observing the whole room in its possible entirety, not leaving out a corner in his sight uncovered.

"Want," he parrots, face dropped to a neutral visage, highlighting the only word that seems to be bothering the CEO regarding his vis-à-vis' statement, eyes darting down  to Mr. Choi having his fingertips pointed towards him.

"Don't you become pushy with the words now, brother," the mafiaboss teases him, and tugs his sleeves up to his elbows again, eyeing you up and down while you're passing him with your cart. You discern his interest in the pockets of your skirt, or what is there underneath, instantly, but before you can think that the man may be just the same as the others, he cracks his knuckles. “Old geezer might die on his own at this point, look at how he's smoking his raisin-lungs away."

"Poetic."

So much for hearing government and company secrets, here are these two joking about the chairman’s death. You need the chairman a little bit longer if you want to earn money, but the idea of him dying soon isn’t too bothersome.

"You gotta get used to my Korean way of speaking, brother! Then we can communicate correctly!”

With your ears sharpened, but your face presenting unconcerned, you devote yourself to headman Park to refill his bucket, ice cubes jangling down the iron jar, whilst Mr. Choi stretches his arms behind his head, raising an eyebrow towards his elder who isn't hearing him out.

“Thank you,” headman Park says, very briefly and precisely. The tong you put in the bucket for him to use almost tips, and you don’t know whether he does it on purpose for he’s been frozen still all during the dinner, but with his reflexes, he prevents it from falling before you can, but if that wasn't surprising enough, he grazes your skin while returning.

Soft, uncalloused; not a single ounce of labor roughed up these hands, it seems. They tickled you featherly, and right now, you are looking for some type of confirmation in those black spheres of his to know that you're allowed to exhale and react to his touch, because you gasped slightly and have held your breath ever since.

Nothing. You are the first one to look— no, shy away from his stare, getting your hands in front of your abdomen again, your fingers searching for each other, fiddling around by themselves without your knowledge. 

Mr. Choi lets his wrist-watched hand fall between his lap, neck tilted slightly to the back, licking over his canine tooth with a grin, and it appears to you that he's either noticed his associate's small gesture or how headman Park is still staring at you. “You wanna do something, don’t you, brother?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

Mr. Choi shakes his head to irritate headman Park and make him explain himself.

“This is not business.”

Headman Park glances down his whiskey, droplets of water have formed around the brim of the cold glass. It is untouched. 

"I see you aren’t enjoying the whiskey, would you like something else to drink, sir?", you ask, trying to finish your job and get away from here before you get ideas that don’t include money between your thighs.

"The Fillico, please," the male answers, not having glanced away from your eyes once to inspect your cart, where the black, long bottle, donning a crown and wings adorned with Swarovski-crystals, awaits you to be grabbed.

"A glass of cold Fillico Black King!", you exclaim, your surprise of the particularity that anyone would drink water at the chairman's dinner can’t be hidden, and then hum, "Coming right up, sir."

“You’re really something, brother,” Mr. Choi wheezes, taking the last pull of his cigarette, watching you fill up a new glass for his unrelated brother with the finest mineral that can be bought to-date, pricing around 6 Billion Won, or 4500 US Dollars per bottle. “Wouldn’t you say it’s difficult to not be smokin’ or drinkin’ in this business, Y/N?”

Sure, whatever ‘business’ a man like him is talking about. “Yes, sir." Wait, hold on, did Mr. Choi just say your name? 

“You don’t look too impressed,” the male grins, seeing how you’ve narrowed your eyes in confusion.

"Pardon me, I was just– how do you know my name, sir?”

Mr. Choi shrugs as if to say ‘I dunno’ and presses his cigarette out on the table. It sizzles out, like your head is also slowly deteriorating. He throws the bud into the CEO's ice-bucket— headman Park is not even minorly irritated by it— and then, with his ringed fingers, goes through his hair, setting it loose behind his head. He’s picking on you, and you surely feel picked out, that's all you can think. It's so unusual to be hearing your name, not because it hasn't been said during the dinner, but because—

"Y/N Y/L/N, a pretty name for a pretty servant like you, huh?"

Your heart somehow flutters. A stalwart man like him taking your name into his mouth is nothing you hear on the daily. Deep, manly. It's not flattering, no, it sounds wrong, feels so dangerous for a guy like him to be taking something so personal and turning it into his possession, like you're slowly going to lose yourself in the words he speaks in a lax manner. Your name is precious to you, and it just drops off his tongue like it's candy. Where on earth does a man like him get your full name from?

"Sir," you insist, dipping your fingertip under your fingernail, fidgeting.

“Oh, don’t tell me ya prefer that stupid name ‘missy’,” Mr. Choi chuckles and fetches headman Park’s full glass of whiskey, his dialect draping out his mouth.

“Or do you secretly enjoy it," he grins, and with his eyebrows raised, Mr. Choi drinks up his acquaintance's booze in one big gulp, letting the glass fall down on the table with a thump, breathing out, "missy?”

People drink whiskey neatly, you know that. The guests have been doing it all evening, but that's for two ounces. Headman Park had a glass full of the oak-colored sherry liquid with an uncommonly high alcohol percentage placed in front of him. A taunt from the chairman maybe, to subtly scorn them about their apparent boyhoodish inexperience, but Mr. Choi makes it look so adept: The strong alcohol flows down his throat smooth and speedy, even though he did misplace the rim by an inch.

There's whiskey dripping down his chin as he glances over to his side, smirking at his neighbor who's blinking frozen, as well as the other guests, who are seemingly just as irritated that the mafiaboss got you as flustered as you look like.

You’re left with your mouth slightly open, shotting down a glass of whiskey shouldn't have looked as barbarous as Mr. Choi made it appear. Like a striking attack, baring his claws, he growls out the herby aftertaste. "'Scuse me, 'got really thirsty there."

The mafiaboss goes over his lips with his tongue, watching your hand play with the seam of your skirt, where he knows a handkerchief is buried in your pocket.

“Aw, shit, I got wet,” he wails over-dramatically, looking down on himself and then again locking his eyes into yours.

“Wanna clean me up, baby?”

“Pardon?”

Much to your continued bafflement, Mr. Choi smiles, and as he sees you taking a second to confirm what he said, he continues talking to you like you’re a hooker.

“Don't like that one, Y/N?” Again, with the name! Where does he get the name?!

“Sir, how—“

“You have introduced yourself to us,” headman Park finally reveals in the high Seoul tongue, perchance by pity, and you inhale, a bit embarrassed that you didn’t come to think of it earlier. What is happening to you? Is it because you’re finally away from those sleazes, that you’re being so light-headed? Lack of training? Sexual attraction? God, that’s a rookie’s mistake, Y/N, think about them as targets, not objectives. The objective is to not end up in a bed with them, remember? That’s like, rule number one. Even though nobody told you about the Mafia while you were at training, that’s a valid argument.

Don't let your guard down, you’re in a room with the men of men, no maybe the men. The most influential men you could be meeting in Seoul right now, aside from how little is known about them.

Whether he's a real chaebol or not, PARA-CEO Park Seonghwa is definitely the nephew of good ol’ chairman over there, just leeching off his money even if today is the first time the man is visiting his distant uncle who is definitely a bit sour about the fact he took so long to connect with him. Money has its sources and sometimes, most of the time, it’s nepotism. There you go, the explanation of his wealth and why the male is so well-mannered sitting on his seat. He’s woven into the conglomerate-family, been made CEO to keep him that way and all in all, you could care less about him, if he just wasn’t the only person that was kind of nice to you. Just thinking about his eyes makes you a bit dizzy, but you can get that fixed by turning your eyes to the mafiaboss.

Mafia and chaebol don't usually associate, for reasons that are rather obvious. Mafia’s rule the underworld with the overworld’s laws, and the chaebol rule over what laws the overworld decides on, digging their hands into the government like it’s soot, planting and pulling crops wherever they can profit from it. Money.

It’s sickening every time you think about it. How many people in this room could pay for your whole life? No, how many can’t pay for your whole life and beyond? You can count them with one hand and they’re all wearing the same clothes as you. 

Money knows where it belongs; that’s a phrase you made up the day you were told about the crippling debt by the letter and the bank declining your card. It sounds similar to your monks' sayings of water's ever-flowing life, but if water returns, money drifts. It wanders across the citizens, but follows a direction it's always bound to end up. Just like today, with you getting bankrolls to graze the inner space of your legs, only to know it’s going to end up in the same fingers that gave it to you.

So, where do headman Park and Mr. Choi get a say in this? Do they get a say in this?

“I did introduce myself, how could I forget? I’m sorry, sir,” you admit and let out a laugh that is half intended to sound as nervous as it did, and half regrettably filled with authentic uneasiness.

Old chairman, what does he know? Have those teeth really ever sunk into flesh? You can’t play with your fate here, but by hook or crook they intrigue you so much. You haven’t expected guests that aren't ass-kissers of the chairman, and apparently your talent only goes so far. You have no idea what to do with them to satisfy them except letting out your real thoughts and you can’t do that, definitely not in front of the man.

But you feel so connected to them. The caution everyone has, it confuses you just as much you're amazed by it, and you want that, you want that kind of safety. Every guest here has money, but not every guest has their authority.

“It’s alright, everybody makes mistakes, baby,” Mr. Choi smirks and musters you again, rubbing the liquid away from the corner of his lip with his thumb and kissing the remaining alcohol away, savoring every droplet of whiskey, but also savoring you by keeping his thumb leaned into his opened mouth, eyes looking sultrily at you, you might as well just—

“Mistakes, San. Beware of them,” headman Park falls in and his companion finally sways his eyes away from you, hand backing down. “Talkative drunkard.“

“Brother,” Mr. Choi sighs and grabs the glass from his neighbor that's filled with ice cubes to murmur, “I’m not that drunk," swinging it around with concise flicks of his wrist to enunciate his words.

With the couple bantering, you think you can calm down. Maybe you were overreacting. Bootlicking some birdbrains is a way easier life than to follow these two.

"Hey, baby?”, but there's another call of the bird of prey.

“Yes, sir?”, you answer, fingers letting go of your skirt that has thrashed your skin by how you abused it. You don’t even know when you started to react to the name 'baby', but truth be told it’s better than ‘missy’ by miles. Being over here is better than being over there by miles, that is unchangeable.

“Could you get me clean? This is kinda sticky."

With two fingers, he grabs the collar of his shirt and flails it softly, ice clinking in his glass, as he shows you his indeed quite syrupy breast.

"Yes, sir."

You nod towards the crevice that is the space where his muscles meet, and before your eyes can get lost in the plump thews, you collect yourself so you can do what you were asked for; getting your hands on his body.

“Please.”

“Ahh, I liked you more when you were quiet, brother! I don’t wanna call you a party-pooper, but c'mon! It’s your plan, and I’m just— doin’ my part.”

Mr. Choi twists his upper body a bit so he’s still able to hold the empty glass behind your back, though it feels more caging in than it should, when you lean forwards to softly tap his skin with your handkerchief. His arm hovers next to your hip and his upper body is extended wide around you.

“What do you say, baby?”, the male asks, and you harrumph to take your mind elsewhere from how rock-hard the mafiaboss feels under your hand, how his cologne smells so rich and inviting, and how— “Wanna be bitten?”

“Pardon?”, you ask, not understanding the context of Mr. Choi’s question, but without fail grasping the intentions of it.

The male grins, and you’re unsure as to how he got his hand on the bottle of whiskey from your tray as quickly as he did, but it’s there, in the hand that’s across your hip, and from then on, everything you do seems risky. His bicep is curled around your thigh so he can fill himself another glass, and if you take a step back, your ass will be pushed against his arm, but if you step forward, you’ll land on top of him; a straining dilemma that only inflames your guts the more you think about it.

“San,” headman Park grumbles quietly, seeing you struggle to stand on your feet.

“Agh, come on, brother, 's all going well! Live a little for me, will ya? Watch me and follow,” Mr. Choi nags with a juvenile pout and takes a disgruntled sip from his drink, making your imaginations reality by pushing you with his forearm with no forewarning. You trip closer to him and his arms raise, as you have to find safety on his shoulders to not fall into his crotch.

“Oops, ‘scuse me, baby,” he grins, feline eyes glancing up to you, your bust in his view. The other men are grumbling, fussy, yammering— if they knew, they would have done that with you a long time ago!— and in your head, you don't know whether you should be doing this at the chairman's dinner and not somewhere in a stripclub or just, god, anywhere else.

“It’s okay, sir,” is what you answer, and the short silence would be the perfect opportunity to scuffle back to your original stance, but you saw his ever-growing, throbbing bulge in his black suit-pants and it is staring you down.

Everything about him is so big…

“Really, baby?”, Mr. Choi asks, eyebrows pushed together, lips formed into a pout, feigning an expression of worry.

“Yes, sir,” you say, the big question of 'what is the goal here?' unnerving you, but with the quick, harsh movement of his leg against the back of your knee, you're—

“Sir!”

Sat on his thigh, your butt is bouncing on the hard flesh, fingers dug into his shoulders deeper due to the shock, ribcage moving up and down as you’re breathing fast and anxiously. At this point, you’ve gathered the attention of many who are seemingly more excited about the situation than you are, silencing all around, while the chairman continues to crack drunk jokes on the other side.

Mr. Choi chuckles at your nervousness and puts his glass down. “Aww, look at you, baby,” he coos, his rough, calloused fingers trailing between the inner space of your thighs that’s pushed into his leg. “Need a little break?”

As you sit there— securing yourself on the table, feeling his hand sit between your legs, you become lighter with each passing second, tingles being sent down your abdomen. Could Mr. Choi please stop smirking like that? It’s going to make you lose your mind, lose every thought of what you were trying to achieve at this table tonight.

“The chairman doesn’t allow breaks, sir,” you murmur, trying to cling onto the last sense of service you have, “I have to stay here.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper for the CEO in front of you to become curious, but loud enough for the mafiaboss to scoff and massage his hand deeper into your flesh.

“Sir, I really—“, you try to protest, but Mr. Choi uses his other finger to signal you to come closer to his face. You do as you’re told, his warm breath hitting your ear after you lean backwards.

“Baby,” he cackles, and his lips touch your earlobe, the smell of the smoke fading out his mouth.

“I practically own that wimp,” and Mr. Choi lets out a chuckle before his voice lowers an octave, “Let me own you, too.”

His tongue grazes over your sensitive skin as if he was a snake trying to convince you of eating the strange fruit, and you shudder forwards in surprise, his growl still vibrating in your ears.

You should get yourself together— yeah, that sounds like a good idea, if it just wasn't for the fact that this is exactly how you've been presenting yourself the whole evening. You're cornered, and not only by him, but your actions and it's, oh, old man, it's something. It's something that broadens the playground that was set out in front of you, something that gives you more to play, no, more to be played with.

The other guests are gawking already, forgetting about their prejudices when it comes to the 'youngsters', just happy to be seeing their missy in action.

The mafiaboss sighs, breaking his whispering and speaking louder than before. “But if you cherish so much about that old geezer, he’ll be taken care of, no? Maybe even better than before, or am I wrong here, brother?”

He clicks with his mouth— is it a habit?— and looks at headman Park, who rolls his eyes, as if they’re sharing some secret you’re not a part of. But before you can fall into further confusion, your legs tighten around Mr. Choi’s wristwatch, as his thumb strokes the surface under your skirt one time, right across your cunt which has been heating up since the first time you saw the reflection of yourself in his silver cross. A pant leaves your mouth and you have to grind your ass over so you can somehow clench your legs together.

“You like that?”, Mr. Choi sneers, chuckling into your ear, as he continues to move his thick finger against your clit. "Of course you do. Let me hear more of those cute sounds, baby.”

You grab his bicep, heat crawling up your abdomen against his forearm, your crotch feeling more and more buzzed as the male works his fingertip into you. Nobody says anything, just murmuring insignificant sentences to keep up the chatty mood.

Headman Park in the meanwhile, crosses his arms, catching the attention of the mafiaboss.

“Brother, can’t you see I’m doing this for you? Enjoy yourself.”

Mr. Choi flashes an eye-smile and keeps groping your cunt, you melting more and more into his lap and under the heated gazes of the crowd. Your servant-colleagues don’t know what to do, or no, maybe they knew exactly that this would happen and think you deserve all of this shame, just in general not helping you escape the touch of the mafiaboss.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying her more than anything,” headman Park says, looking indifferent, but his words don’t cross out the possibility that inside his pants, his cock isn’t growing too, how his arms are crossed, clenched around each other.

“Come on, baby,” Mr. Choi growls into your ear, “give that fucking bore a show, won’t you?”

You’re split open. He’s strong, oh gosh, so strong, taking not more than one push to grab you by your thigh and spread your legs, make you slip on his crotch, as he closes his knees together to support you from down under.

“San,” headman Park warns, but his mouth stays slightly open, tongue pressed against the surface of his upper teeth, suppressing a grin.

You flatten your back against Mr. Choi’s torso as an attempt to hide your face behind his neck, and breathe heavily against his freckled skin, the cold exterior of his pearly accessory grazes your chin.

“What?”, the male asks, taking his glass, his arm slithering under your armpit and his chin resting on your shoulder as he sips from it, not to forget the hand that is still pushed into the now moist fabric between your legs, moving in circular motion.

Headman Park doesn’t answer and folds his hands together, placing his elbows on the table, fingers touching his lower lip.

“Geez, brother, you should feel this cunt right now,” the mafiaboss wheezes, almost hiccuping from his excitement, “so fucking hot, you won’t believe.”

“Make her louder.”

Even Mr. Choi was surprised to hear that come out of the reserved CEO's mouth, and as he chuckles and takes the last sip from his whiskey, he puts down his glass once in for all to accept headman Park’s order.

With a slight lean forward, his free hand wraps around your neck and you gasp for air. Mr. Choi’s legs are spread so when you have to tuck in your pelvis, you can feel his bulge under your cunt. At this point, you don’t care for the piercing gazes anymore, and the chairman might as well give you a nice tip for the sight of you grinding your wet pussy into his biggest investor’s clothed cock. You’re such a master profiteer, Y/N, Jongho was right.

“Fuck, missy,” Mr. Choi grunts and he’s so frustrated he can’t take off more of your clothes, but it doesn’t prevent him from following the order when headman Park mutters, “grab her breasts.”

It is one shameless show.

You becoming needy and whiny on Choi San’s lap, the mafiaboss grinning, as CEO Park Seonghwa’s eyes are unmoving from your sullen, aroused expressions— it has persuaded the audience to want their own slice of fun, but even with hands wrapped around their no-use cocks, everybody in the room has their eyes sealed on the young servant whose only job was to refill some ice.

Mr. Choi can feel it; what a slut you are on top of him, how eagerly you’re grinding your cunt over his bulge, and how jealous the others are watching— and this includes all the blokes that are watching with cigars in their mouths, but also the servants that would have gladly taken your seat and not rub their hands over old, moist, wrinkly skin.

“Sir,” you whimper, as Mr. Choi knobs your breasts, his tough hands cupping each tit, just like headman Park commanded him.

Fuck, how he wishes to be able to see your face as well as well as headman Park does, but the sobby whines might as well do.

“So noisy on my cock,” Mr. Choi snarls, “you’re practically begging for attention, missy.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you hiss and the mafiaboss inhales sharply, gasping, his cock jumping, very turned on by your sudden spunky tone. Bingo.

“Did you hear that, brother?”, he whales, tempting the headman to interact with him more as the main viewer of his performance, but the man to his friend is only raising an eyebrow. “Baby's got some zest in her. You like that, don’t you?”

Mr. Choi continues to coo headman Park into defeat, “You like ‘em feisty, brother. I know you, chief execution officer, sir. You wanna ram your cock into this little missy's pretty mouth, just admit it.”

Little missy's pretty mouth. "Say that again, shitbag," you hiss, but Mr. Choi grins and pries into your bust, working folds into your freshly-ironed shirt. "Listen, brother," he breathes, "It gets your cock fucking going, doesn't it?"

The mafiaboss chuckles and adds, so only you can hear it, "Definitely gets my cock going, baby."

Headman Park scans the room, and you can see how he shakes his head, and looks at Mr. Choi with a slight distaste. “You may leave soon.” 

“Really?”, Mr. Choi grins, beaming, grabbing your hips forcefully in the joy of it, and while the CEO’s words leave you misled, you sigh into the pressure of being pressed down deep into his muscled thigh, your cunt pulsating through his flesh.

“Change of plans.”

“Alright," he murmurs, just as offended as you are by his lack of reactions, but quickly catching up on his lust to hear, see, feel you more. "But not before I make this baby come."

“Punster,” headman Park jeers and it does occur to you that you’re hearing more of his soft voice than before, but when he looks at his wristwatch, you suppose you’re not doing well enough for him. Look at me, you rich-ass prude, you think and whine, being moved across Mr. Choi’s thigh by his own hands. Your clit feels hot, like it is seriously going to burn and fall off, but you, fuck, feel so good; the sounds just keep leaving your mouth, your high approaching very soon.

“How long were you thinking, brother?”, Mr. Choi asks and is nibbling at your neck, as he rams you over his thigh, fighting with the pace you're breathing wispy and digging your nails more and more into the glass-table until your fingertips turn white.

"Five.”

“Five? Make it ten.”

“You only last ten?”

“You can be such a bully, brother,” Mr. Choi fleers, and you have no fucking idea what they’re talking about, since you are feeling your orgasm coming in less than a minute, stars appearing in front of your eyes. “Make it ten.”

The male takes note of how you're bucking in your pelvis and uses his canine teeth to make your neck flame on, his hand placed roughly around your throat, as you become more sensitive to every move. "Sir," you whisper, a knot forming in your stomach.

Your clit is begging you for mercy at this point, demanding you to get the clothes off your legs so your slick has some way to escape, but you're drenching Mr. Choi's suit-pants in your wetness with stuttered heaving, ready to moan loudly in any second now if you could just find that one fucking spot—

"Are you gonna cum, baby? Right in front of everyone?", he murmurs against your neck and you nod repeatedly, raving your clothed clit on his thick, pillowy muscle, desperately chasing your high. "Come on," he snickers, "Show them what kind of slut missy is, huh? Such a good fucking slut for us, aren't you?"

"Yesyesyes," you whine, not caring for anything than your release, and Mr. Choi is being so kind as to continue breathing heavily into your ear to make you melt into bliss, but nothing gets you on more than the gentle smile that headman Park is sending your way, head slightly tilted to the back— is he nodding? Is he finally approving? Oh, fuck, you think, and you're doing the best job darting your hips non-stop to continue feeling your cunt be stroked by Mr. Choi's flesh, pursuing the CEO's praising acknowledgment. "Good fucking slut on my lap," the mafiaboss cackles, "come for daddy."

"You fucking weirdo," you falter, not wanting to call him "I'm never gonna call you—

Mmmuh!" Mr. Choi grabs you by your hair and tugs it harshly, making your back arch and your head rotate to his side. In the open mouth, his tongue plunges into your throat, the taste of woody herbs and bitter alcohol are flooding your tastebuds. Smearing all of your lipstick, his mouth is pressed against yours like he's sealing yours shut. You convulse your lower body in surprise of the sudden act and holy shit, get that one spot over your clit that's also stroking your gaping entrance, your body releasing all of its heat into one blaring, roaring zap, with your eyes rolling back your head, your stirred voice screaming, "FUCK!"

There is a gasp heard through the dining hall and you're not sure whether it was the chairman, a servant, or headman Park in front of you, but as you are spasming on Mr. Choi's thigh and your back arches to his chest, you feel like the world is expanding on you, peeping, intrusive onlookers cramming out their money to thank you for the show they got, white trickling through the linen of their underwear. 

Coming down from your high, weakened and all the while more aroused by the mafiaboss whispering the words "good girl" into your ear, you try to open your eyelids to catch headman Park putting on some black leather-gloves he got from his briefcase, muttering something under his breath to the mafiaboss.

“Go."

What the fuck?

Mr. Choi hooks his arm under your legs while he re-applies his lips to yours, and lifts you up like the pretty princess you are to most of the gawkers that don't stop watching, when he stands up.

Everybody has their eyes on the kiss the mafiaboss and servant missy are sharing, but headman Park doesn’t even look at you, when his partner starts carrying you to the elevator that's waiting for you at the wall about in the middle of the dining table, and just retrieves his open briefcase from the floor. Has he had enough of you already?

“Where are we—“, you breathe, but Mr. Choi kisses you silent, tongue forcing its entry, preventing you from figuring out what's happening, after the mafiaboss puts you down in front of the door and pushes you against the frame roughly. Cheering and hooting encourages him to continue rubbing his thumb over your skin as the other ringed fingers are holding your thigh, and you're pressed against his leg, virtually fenced in by Mr. Choi while he pushes the button for the lift to come.

His eyes are squinting to the side while he works his lips against you, in a way confirming that all of the guests (except the CEO) are begrudgingly anticipating the next actions of the mafiaboss, not caring how the headman is slowly pushing his seat away from the table to get more leg-space, which you seem to be the only person noticing it.

The golden door opens with a bell dinging the elevator’s arrival, and Mr. Choi grabs you by your ass, leading the way inside it. You can't see it correctly with your eyes closed, can only feel his big arms push into your frame, but he even makes for a show-like exit, burlesquely saluting the audience with two fingers, clicking with his mouth. It must really be a habit, you think, and giggle into the kiss.

The men attempt to throw bankrolls into your space and some succeed, some don't, but while you're glad your plan worked out, you aren't too sure what you've just done with, or for the mafiaboss.

Your heated kiss continues and because you want to feel him, you unbutton his shirt that doesn’t need that much working, three buttons being pushed open by your jellylike hands. Before you can unclothe him though, Mr. Choi pushes his arm against the mirror next to your head, stopping you to take a look at his wristwatch. He strokes his hair to the back with the other hand, revealing some of his meaty abs, and once he’s reached the backside of his head, he slides his fingers down his neck and around his Adam's apple to scratch it, announcing, “Ten minutes on the clock. Shit, brother's dick must be fucking exploding in his pants right now."

“Sir?”, you ask, overwhelmed by the words that are not making sense in your head, but also distracted by his hand that’s around your tie.

“Given he really could've finished in five but,” he yanks you towards his face. “I wanted to have you a bit more for myself, missy.”

He smiles, very arrogantly like the patronizing fuck he is, like he knows how strong he is, what a dominating aura he possesses, but at this point, in between the mirrors and on this black, marbled floor, you are not at the chairman’s dinner anymore, aren’t a servant anymore– you aren’t bound to any authority, are you?

“If you fucking call me ‘missy’ again, I’ll bite your fucking dick off.”

Except for the moment that you’re talking to him, a mafiaboss, whose breast is marked by— and you can see it very clearly now for it fits perfectly into yours— hands that have shared the same, if not a similar experience with you.

“How’d you know I was into biting, baby?”

And holy fuck, his back looks even crazier.

“God, sir,” you breathe out in awe and a little bit of fear. You can count the lines of red scratches on his back and as you finally let his shirt fall from his shoulders, the reflection of his muscles, how they relax under your touch. You become starstruck. Everything about him is so scarring, but fuck, how it attracts you, the wildness, the savagery— there’s something so free about him.

"What, baby? You like what you're seeing? How naughty..."

Ten minutes aren’t a lot, but Mr. Choi makes his best attempt to hurry over the trivial parts of fucking you. He steps closer, your ass hitting the handrail, legs crossing together, and your buttons pop in one rip, as his two hands rupture your blouse open. He lets his shirt drop to the floor, all the while his lips clash against the nook of your neck, making you sigh under the luminous lights of the elevator and grab his neck. You’re getting hazy, horny; damn, it’s been so long you’ve had a good fuck. Satisfactory sex is another luxury you were postponing for later.

With his lips sewn on your shoulder, kissing and forcing his tongue against a spot he deems especially tasty, the half-naked male unzips your skirt to finally reveal the black pantyhose that looks soaked in your slick. After he chuckles at the sight of it, Mr. Choi licks over his lips and cups your jaw with his hand, drawing a trail of insatiable kisses across your skin.

“Still wanna bite my dick off?”, he asks with a sly smirk, breathy, having caught your aroused look locked on his silver chains, his jacked upper body inviting you to get your mouth in there until it’s molded around your teeth.

“Come on, baby,” the male provokes you, “You think I’m gonna fuck you just like this? Think I’m gonna ram myself inside your cute fucking cunt ‘cause I’m such a big scary fucking man?”

You inhale sharply. “N- no, I…”, you breathe out, letting your tongue run over your teeth.

“Aw, baby, am I making you shy?”, Mr. Choi hoots, “I didn’t think you were a shy one. You were pretty noisy on my thigh for your cunt, weren’t you? Getting all the sounds out for brother to hear them… You really served a show there, baby.”

Your mouth only lets out stammered gibberish– you have never learnt how to talk dirty, but Mr. Choi uses your opened lips to ram his tongue into it again anyway, and you're almost proud to say you've gotten used to it.

He breathes rashly through his nose, and he tastes less of bourbon but more of dulcet desire, mixed in with the red of your lipstick sitting on his lip. Your knee strokes his erection while he gets his hands behind your back to get your bra off, lips clashing and raving against each other. “Letting your body talk for you?”, Mr. Choi husks, panting at having his overstrained cock touched. He relieves you from the pressure around the bust and continues to ramble. "I knew I could have a lot of fun with you the second I laid my eyes on you.” You pant and reunite your lips with his. "Little missy, such a whore for the rich."

He’s overconfident he’s seeing right through you, it infuriates you. Mr. Choi massages his hands into your breasts, the cold rings grazing sharply into your warm flesh, and as your knee is still between his crotch, you huff. You can be a whore for the rich when you’re earning money, but right now, you’re doing things for your own pleasure.

“Are you going to have a lot of fun with me?”, you sing-song in a high-pitched female voice to the mafiaboss that’s immediately taken aback, and you know the word 'missy' is on top of his tongue again, when you interrupt him with a quick jab of your knee into his groin. "Shit-eating fat-cat."

Mr. Choi grunts, head tilting down. His feline eyes meet your foxy ones, and while you weren't preparing for a staredown, the mafiaboss smirks and bites his lip. 

He has a lot to say, you can see it. There’s something glimmering under the lust-drunken layer behind his eyes, and it’s deep, goes deeper, but for some reason, the mafiaboss, who just so despicably couldn’t hold his mouth, doesn’t let out the words that’s crossing his mind.

“Sir–” 

Wrong deduction.

Mr. Choi scowls in laughter, and you guess he meant to joke with you, but he means to play with you much more, when he, once again, lifts you up, by your waist this time, and balances you on the handrail.

Resting his forearm on your thighs to stabilize you, Mr. Choi digs in his pocket to fetch his cigarette box, looking at himself through the mirror and shaking some strands out of his face. "Shit-eating fat-cat," he repeats with a lisp, pulling out one of the slim rolls with the corner of his mouth, and he continues to chuckle, as he glances at you through his eyelashes, "you should've said that to the old geezer when you had the chance to, baby."

"The chairman?"

No answer. Mr. Choi lights his cigarette with a zippo, and keeps it lit in his mouth, as he, with no forewarning, tears open your pantyhose from your crotch with both of his hands, spreading your legs wide. You have to get your hands around his head to be able to keep yourself on the handrail.

“Why do you look so scared? Think I’m gonna fuck you?”, he lisps. “I’m just taking a good look, baby. What a pretty cunt you got there, baby.”

You gulp. Mr. Choi slides his index finger across your heated folds through the fabric and your cunt clenches together, wanting to be filled up. “Sir,” you sigh, and the mafiaboss pulls in smoke from his cig, raising an eyebrow.

“What, baby? ‘You need something?”, he asks, “You’re not a fucking servant anymore, or do you need to be ordered around, missy?”

You try to look angry, but Mr. Choi only pouts and presses his finger through your panties, soaking them in your slick that’s gathered at your entrance. “Desperate to please the money-man? So wet for him…”

“Fuck you,” you mewl, but Mr. Choi knows what he’s doing when he thumbs your clit and exhales smoke into your face, hiding his face for a short second which gives you confidence. “I need you… to fuck me.”

“What did you say, baby? I couldn’t hear.”

“Please, sir, just… fuck me, please…”

“Louder.”

“God! Just fuck me! Didn’t you say we have ten minutes? Make them fucking count!”

“There we go, baby. My slutty little missy. Oh, baby, you’re growing on me, brother’s gonna hate that.” 

You huff and Mr. Choi slides your panties off your legs, taking a short glimpse at his wristwatch. “Damn, ten’s really a short time.”

How many minutes have passed? Ten already? You know you said it, but you mentioned it only because it made sense, if you’re honest, you have no clue what the time is worth for. Aren't these the men who have time for gold?

The biting smell of tobacco enters your nose, making you cough out loud. Is smoking even allowed in the elevator? Wait, wait, wait, no, maybe you should worry about other things, for example what you're going to do when those ten minutes are over, when all of this is over. They clearly have some type of plan and thing they are carrying out right now, but you don’t know how much you’re invited in there. 

Mr. Choi finishes his quick break, inhaling one last puff and keeping his cig between his lips again, and his hands unbuckle his belt in silence, while you contemplate.

Clanking, ruttling, and steps begin to thump behind the door— have any of you two even pressed a button? The mafiaboss looks concentrated, fixed on your cunt, taking out his throbbing, panging cock out his underwear, stroking it a few times to god, fuck, finally get to touch it after having been dry-humped hot.

Squelching, huffing, and voices echo through the floor— is that the chairman you hear? You can only yelp, when Mr. Choi drags off your panties and slathering his thick fingers across your folds in one, then penetrating with another forceful movement.

"Fuck!", you hiss out, grabbing the handrail next to your hips, trying to balance yourself on it still. The mafiaboss snickers into your ear, and tours through your cunt, all the while it appears that all hell is breaking loose outside.

BANG!

"Sir, what—!"

"Shhh, baby," Mr. Choi hushes you, and takes out his cig with the fingers that are now glistening with your wetness, placing it on top of his lips vertically to the scar that is accompanying his smug smirk.

BANG!

"You got nothin' to worry 'bout, baby," he lulls, "we're just eatin' the pheasant and the egg here," and exhales smoke into your face out his mouth-hole, which distracts you from the third, fourth—

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Another proverb, pheasant and the egg— 'two birds with one stone'. Mr. Choi unfolds his hand as if he was counting the minutes, or the shots— wait, yes, shots! Fuck, those are gun-shots, right? You've never heard something so loud ever in your life, where does someone get guns from in South Korea? What even would they need guns for? Why would they use them? What the fuck is happening outside?!

"Oh, fuck!", you moan out, before fear and realization can crawl up your scalp and take away your lusting for the male, Mr. Choi has jerked his hip up, his cock gliding into you smoothly as if your cunt was made for him, the length and girth perfectly curling inside. Your back arches, at least as far as you can arch it, and he grins bemusedly at your jolted reaction.

BANG!

With every blast that follows, Mr. Choi is thrusting into you, first slowly, but then adding more speed and vigor as he goes, or as the blasting goes, making you shakily watch yourself be wrecked by the broad man through the reflection on the other side, your legs dangling with his rough movement.

You don't know how he's fucking you through your tightness, because with each ducking of his hips it feels like your inner walls are expanding more and ungodly more, as if he was piercing you in half.

Small puffs of smoke leave Mr. Choi's mouth each time he pants out raspy "oh baby"s and loud claps of him slapping your ass overtone the screaming, scrambling noises outside, as you two work your lower bodies against and into each other, growing more passionate, throbbing feverishly.

"Fuck, baby," Mr. Choi hisses, cigarette tilting in his mouth, as his face frowns together. "So fucking good for daddy, aren't you? So fucking tight and wet, such a good fucking girl—"

The screams outside are dying down, but the mafiaboss and you are getting louder, breathier, lustier; with your head falling backwards, hitting the mirror, the twisting feeling of fear and the ecstasy to be bouncing on Mr. Choi's big cock mix up like one hellish drink, boiling and churning inside of you.

Smashing both his hands on each of you ass-cheeks to dig his fingers into them and get more stability to ram into you so fast, and oh boy, it's so fucking fast, you're going to spiral— Mr. Choi sputters, "Are you gonna come? Are you going to come for daddy, baby? Greedy baby gonna take daddy's huge fucking load?"

The male is unraveling, his once low, stable voice turning into a whiny, hoarse, cracked mess just like you, practically urging, begging you to finally take the name ‘daddy’ into your mouth.

"Come on baby, say it for me, huh? Feels good to be my slut?", he disentangles, "Be a good slut for daddy, baby."

"I'm not gonna call you— that, fuckhead!", you moan, though your insides are curdling together to finally be released, the knot tightening with each drop of sweat that is forming on your boiling face.

"Really? Think you can afford to misbehave, baby?", Mr. Choi snickers and spits his cig on the floor, your ass being handled at an insane speed, his cock slipping in and out of you with rough ease. He takes it upon himself to dig his teeth into the nook of your neck, biting you heftily, your pulse knocking against your throat, as you feel his cock run in and out of your cunt. Your head goes light and dazed, but before you can gasp out your high from being fucked, bitten, sent to bliss, the male sinks you deep into his cock fully, it does not give you the last thrust you would need to—

"Fuckfuckfuck, I'm gonna cum," you whimper, needing to tremble, but unable to move because his hands are restricting you from any movement, and you continue to bring out a string of weak "pleasepleaseplease" that bounces back from the mafiaboss, who is raising an eyebrow, waiting for the magic word to be spoken out of your wet lips. Tears have formed at the corner of your eye and he thumbs it away, grinning coyly.

"Fuck you, I'mnotgonna fucking, ugh—!", you sob, "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

"Aww, you wanna hate daddy so bad, don’t you?”

“Fuuuck you!” Whines leave your mouth, wanting to cum, wanting to move, wanting for Mr. Choi to continue fucking into you and not wipe away your tears.

“Just say you love me, baby,” he heaves and returns his hand to your hip.

Thrusting into you once with a clap against your groin, to make your cunt clench around him, and then twice with the last blood-curdling BANG! from outside, his cock is deep inside you. He feels you tighten, pulsate, craving to be released, but Mr. Choi will not move again to your liking until you finally let go of yourself, which riles you up with no hope.

"F— Fuuuck, okay!", you scream out, annoyed, angry, wanting to fucking cum; "Daddy!", you sob and Mr. Choi smirks, instantly getting to work to toast the adieu of your pride. Thumb on your clit, he circles around your sensitive bud to double the tension you feel through all of your body, while you gutter, "fuck me, daddy, please, make me cum, please, daddy, please—"

He laughs, no, howls— elated, animated, drunk, and then, with his strong, buff fucking arms, pounds you into his cock like a punching bag, your ass hitting his pelvis so many times until you have to use his gelled hair as a last resort to hold yourself up and not push yourself from the handrail with your head against the mirror, but he holds you, holds you steadily in his grip.

"Good god, good fucking missy, such a good fucking slut for me, cum all over my cock–   all over my fucking cock, baby," Mr. Choi grunts, and the string that was keeping you balanced snaps, your orgasm hitting you like that makes your insides tighten around the mafiaboss and his throbbing girth, your whole body being flushed by an overwhelming wave of pleasure which you drink up whole. His cockhead rubs against your sweetspot, you riding out the high while seeing nothing but bliss.

"Holy fuck," you breathe, and your fingers grip into the thick skin of his back, and with Mr. Choi's hips not stopping to hit your pelvis, there are additional, injuring, deep red marks on there with every thrust. You’re scratching him like a beast wanting to tear up its prey, but the beast is fucking into you like there’s no tomorrow. His cock does not stop grazing against your deepest spot, tears rolling down your heated cheek, and your mouth is unable to get out the words you want it to when you get the feeling that he's going to cum soon.

"O- out," you warn him, but the mafiaboss makes a disappointed face, “I– I really can’t afford a child, p-please pull out–!”

He draws his eyebrows in, scoffs and looks you deep in the eyes, his muscular body tucked in, murmuring, rambling out his whiskey-painted throat, “Is that really your only problem, baby? That you don’t have enough money?” His forehead leans against yours and your eyelids flutter open– you are being a mitt around his dick– and he pouts in pity, his iron cross hanging from his chest, as he talks to you.

Mr. Choi gets his hand flat on your lower belly and presses down on it, feeling himself bulge inside you. He moves his hips slowly, his cockhead dragging across your sweetspot, while he gutters, “you’d look so sexy as a mother, don’t you think, baby? With the tummy and all.”

“S- sir, please I–”

"Come on, do you think I don’t have enough money to pay for a fucking kid? God, how fucking annoying– I’m not that kind of man, baby,” Mr Choi growls, his voice vibrating against your cheek, as he charges his forehead deeper against yours, “I still got some honor.”

You shake your head, unsure whether there are pills for after in the pharmacies, or whether the mafiaboss will really be there to be with you as he promises, but Mr. Choi continues to beg in his low breathy, guttery voice. “Baby,” he rumbles, pressing even harder on your abdomen, your ass being pushed into the handrail that you’re sure it’s going to leave one red straight mark, and his cock is almost exploding from the edge, “Let me, no, let daddy cum into your tight cunt, baby, please.”

God, he wants you. He wants you so bad, doesn’t he?

"Y- you should see yourself," you chuckle, stroking over Mr. Choi's gelled hair, and his head tilts up a little bit as your fingers get tangled in his black locks, the white of his eyes making him look like a wild dog waiting for its treat. "F-fucking do it, you fucking slut."

"Fuck, baby," he laughs, out of breath, "You’re really a price."

Mr. Choi hammers his hips into you, until the stars in front of you all look like wishes falling from the sky. Both of you feel it, how his cock just feels so right, fits in like your cunt is a fucking glove which is full and getting even fuller.

"God, fuck," Mr. Choi grunts from the bottom of his throat, his hot cum lading into you, and it's like your lower body is melting with it, becoming heavier with every drop he's unloading inside.

"Take all of my fucking cum," he husks and your faces clash together for one finishing wild kiss. Mr. Choi sucks on your lower lip, as he fucks his ejaculation deeper and deeper into your hole with slow thrusts, until he bucks up his pelvis the last time and moans out a raspy, “perfect fucking missy with a perfect fucking cunt..."

Ding!

For a man that uses his mouth so sparingly, his tongue surely works wonders.

"Sir, are you—"

Headman Park has entered the elevator without a word, pulling off his leather gloves, and with Mr. Choi stepping away, he has all the place he requires to get on his knees and throw your leg over his shoulder, his wet and warm muscle delving into your throbbing cunt. You've been bereaved of the time to inspect what was behind or around him when the door closed, but maybe that's irrelevant anyways. What is relevant, is how impatient, but also how careful the CEO remains, and how he still tries his best to slowly sift his tongue into your folds, feeling every inch of your wetness. He’s been dying to do this.

"Fuck, sir!"

"Please," the CEO chuckles, hastily pulling the black leathery from his hands to put it back in his briefcase that he's been carrying, but he doesn't miss your cunt once, purling over your clit and glancing at you. "Call me Seonghwa, princess."

You could cum right here and there, just at the sight of this pretty man looking up to you, who has laid out his first name and put it into yours, scream it out loud until everyone hears what a princess you've been made of.

Princess. You knew his eyes were different, but you didn’t know they saw the world differently too. Oh, how you wish you could see more of his world.

"Aww, what? That's why you're still a foreigner in our country, brother! 'Can't be dropping our titles," Mr. Choi huffs and lights himself a second cigarette, filling the elevator with smoke and tobacco. How his breath really doesn't smell is questionable to you.

Just like you, the CEO, or how you're allowed to call him now— Seonghwa, ignores his partner's words, laps over your clit with his tongue, gently easing into your cunt with his clean fingers, and your soft sighs are like a reward for him, for whatever he's done outside.

"Respect, brother, 's all about respect..."

You tighten your thighs around Seonghwa's neck. The charcoal-haired has closed his eyes, sighing into the taste of you, and you are flawlessly overlooking the loud mafiaboss, just completely concentrating on the commitment the CEO is eating you out with. His head fits magically between your legs, he works his fingers so flawlessly into you, this must be fate— and if it's not, you're going to make it your future in any which way possible. You're falling. No, flying; never coming down.

"Seonghwa," you whine, and your hand glides over the hooked male's forehead, his hair feeling smooth under your touch as he presses his tongue slowly— in circular motion— against your clit to keep you on the high, but not in a way that would make you trip over.

"Mmf," the mafiaboss in front of you huffs, clearly attracted, enticed by the way you've exhaled the other male’s first name, scratching his temple with the fingers that are holding his cigarette.

"Whether you wanna call me San or 'daddy', baby," the scarred male, no, San, the fucker grins, "I'm gonna be hearing both either way."

"Fuck—", you moan out, having to take a breath because of how Seonghwa has curled his fingers into you with his tongue ready to shovel anything into his mouth that comes out, "you, fuckhead!"

The CEO is giggling a bit, finding your tone very amusing— and he tries to tell you this by looking up and slanting his eyes a friendly way, no, a way that you've never even conjured up the fantasy to perceive him, the cold-faced Park Seonghwa who hasn't drunk a drop of alcohol tonight. What pureness in a man...

"I liked 'fat-cat' better,” San snickers and goes through his hair that definitely needs combing, turning around and looking at himself through the mirror, though his eyes squint towards Seonghwa's reflection on the other side, now again lost in your cunt, taking off his jacket and folding it in half behind his back.

"Brother, you're eating my cum, by the way," the mafiaboss jabs, puffing out smoke while he's decidedly getting hard again in his trousers. San really can't hide his emotions on his face, can he? His lips are pursed, eyebrows slightly pulled in— how obvious. The man is jealous and doesn't want to admit it, you're sure of it.

"Shut up," you hiss, having become a bit comfortable with teasing the frustrated, outwitted mafiaboss. Ten minutes were definitely too little for him, but you've already rid his thigh, let him cum inside, and Seonghwa is simply too good with his tongue right now.

"Fuuuck," you whisper, and feel every drowsy twirl of his finger inside you, but it's slow, so slow, Seonghwa is swerving around every sponginess inside you, savoring the contraction of your inner space, and how your muscles tighten, when he licks over your clit, he enjoys this; enjoys you.

And so it continues, Park Seonghwa exploring every detail of your cunt as if he's a sommelier tasting the rarest of fluids, appreciating every drop that lands on his tongue, his fingers making sure that they don't go to waste.

"Shit," San comments, "I should've eaten her out, too."

The CEO is not cocky about it, about the way you are grabbing into his hair and squirming, how he has to slightly lift you up so you don't fall from your position. And then, when Seonghwa thinks your taste has perfectly coated his palate, speeds up.

"Fuck, sir," and the title slips out of you, like a habit you can't change for good when you feel so small. The CEO between your legs doesn't mind it though, at least doesn't say anything on it and just lets his fingers hit your sweet spot until there is a distinctive "Seonghwa" leaving sighed out your lips.

"I'm going to—", you announce, but the male has been long aware of it, preparing himself more access by bending his upper body to angle himself across your cunt, giving his partner a better view on how you glisten in arousal.

San in front of you is standing frozen, with his cigarette slowly burning out in his mouth, and you recompense the lack of his cock in your cunt by moaning louder, so your voice can vibrate around his erection. He grins and gets a tongue to his canine tooth, naked upper body still glowing in sweat, muscles shining, cock twitching every time he hears you breathe, and breathe more intensely, "make me cum, Seonghwa, please!"

"I knew you would taste delicious," Seonghwa murmurs, silently, rather for himself, and this must be how he sounds when he's drunk, because he is so high on your taste, "but this is ambrosial, princess."

You curl up your pelvis, and Seonghwa holds you by your hips, as his tongue picks up in speed, drawing out every word he hasn't spoken tonight on your labia, stamping them into your clit, all the while his fingers row in more and every last drop.

"C- coming~", you purr, and your eyes close down, your hands deep in Seonghwa's scalp, exhaling the weight of your worries, that flushes down into the man who seems to have none in his life, and he breathes into your hot cunt through his nose, not letting go of it until he's made sure that your hips tremble around his head. "P- please, f- fuck, fuck, feels so good—"

Pumping the remaining come into you, Seonghwa licks up your cunt and kisses your clit until you go completely flaccid, your arms giving in, but Seonghwa catches you by your hand, kissing your thigh with his swollen pink lips.

With your body relaxed, your ass feels a bite sore, having been prodded into the iron rail for so long. You grab into Seonghwa's hand and try to push yourself up, but ultimately fail at getting yourself into a more comfortable position.

"San, hold her."

"Huh?", he asks, "'Need something more snuggly, baby? Or what did you call her again, brother?"

"Princess," the CEO answers immediately and you have to suppress a girly giggle, as Seonghwa turns his head around, lips still pressed against your thigh. He presumably sends San an admonitory look to hurry up, and gets up from his knees.

The mafiaboss shrugs, not offended by being ordered around. He puts out the cigarette against the mirror and cracks his neck by rolling his head around, his thick neck dousing into your sight as he does so. He's so intimidating, you think, but he's on his way to coast those monster-arms behind your back, hands down to each of your hamstrings to, "up you go," pick you up like real royalty. The giggle escapes your mouth but you don't feel the slightest embarrassed nor do you have a reason to be. You are sunken deep into San’s cushiony arms— his muscles make for a great seat, and hovering, air hitting your hot cunt, as your legs spread for the CEO in front of you when you fall into the elbows. You yelp, but the giggles just keep coming, making San in the mirror in front of you wink at you, cackling, "you like that, princess?"

Seonghwa smiles, satisfied by your enjoyment of this position and approaches you once more. "I have yet to kiss you, Y/N," he says with his sweet voice, and his gentle hands find your chin and waist, your eyes blossoming open for him to stare into.

Even San shuts up now, and you suppose he is too taking part in the beauty that is the embrace of you and Seonghwa; two sets of lips, crazing each other, meeting for one flowery affair, breathing out small vapors of life. You can taste yourself, which means that Seonghwa is fully consumed by your aroma.

God, you think again, your cunt tingling at how Seonghwa tugs at his tie, pulling it side to side as he kisses you— the golden 'π'-pin clanks shrill to the floor— everything about Seonghwa is so...

Clean?

You are inhaling the mellow smell of his satiny skin, and the CEO unbuttons his shirt with proficient, skilfull flicks of his fingers. He is so handsome, handsomely pretty, and even when it’s drenched in your fluids, his skin shines on its own, like Seonghwa has a light shining within. Once you can see his bare chest and get lost on the smooth surface, your eyes dive down, admiring his slim, yet very muscular physique.

Seonghwa gets his tie and drags off his shirt by tugging at one sleeve with his hand, the white fabric revealing the rest of body with one clean pull that matches one of the curtains.

"W-", and you have to jump back with your head to get the full spectacle that's presented in front of you, exhaling in awe— "Wow.."

"Not so blank, our brother, is he?", San chuckles from behind of you and lowers his head to press his chin against your temple, surveying the same sight.

Two colossal, monstrous dragons, red and black, are colliding, looped, entangled all around Seonghwa's right arm, fighting for dominance on his skin. The raven hydra has its jaw wide open where Seonghwa looks to his shoulder with a rather shy smile once he sees your reaction, baring its teeth towards his heart, while the crimson dragon ends at the CEO's wrist, sitting on top of his pulse.

"Would you believe me it was brother's idea, baby?"

"As if," Seonghwa murmurs, folding his shirt into a square.

San chuckles again, re-shuffling himself and pressing your back close to his stomach, granting the back of your head to rest at his collarbone. "I asked her if she would believe, brother."

You watch the delicate lines, the elegant strokes of tint meeting on his skin, but while your first impression made you believe they carried a certain viciousness with their svelte bodies, the second sight presents you a different image of two forces maneuvering into each other as a reminder that they both co-exist as supreme. It's not one another they're reviling against, it's the bearer of the both who is threatened by their fangs. Their existence is a warning reminder, but also a sign of pride.

"I believe it's... beautiful."

“Aw, you’re so sweet, baby.”

You haven't seen many tattoos in your life, none in the mountains, and even in the city the only observable tattoos were those of the sleazy guys in alleys that wait when you're done with your job to gape at your uniform. They got tigers and other animals roaring on their bodies to hide the fact they don't have the fighting skills to keep up, but for Seonghwa, a CEO, to have this amount of ink under his skin is a commitment and to imagine he’s hiding that under his ironed shirt and black jacket, no, that you are seeing it right now, it’s… You’re overwrought, steamed up, aflame.

"Wanna touch it, baby?", San asks, and you nod eagerly. Seonghwa chuckles, “Go for it.”

You let your fingertip ghost over the dragons' scales, tailing their curvature. Goosebumps form on Seonghwa's arm and his hand finds its way to your head, stroking your cheek, as you meet the red beast's eyes.

The mafiaboss whispers, almost sentimentally, "No blood or tears."

Another expression, which proves to you that the tattoo was undoubtedly his idea, but you see it, the romance that is spoken from the male's skin, regardless of the little insight you have on both of them. Loyalty, reverence, creed, a belief and a duty, and before you know it, you want Seonghwa to enwrap you with his arms and never let you go, which he does.

His slender hand cloaks the left side of your head, and he pulls himself into a kiss, while he unbuckles his belt with his other hand.

You don't know how much you understand of this situation, no, you don't know how much you want to understand of this situation.

You've been on your own. That's all you ever had after you left home: Your body and soul, the windstorms of the mountains pushing you from the back to keep going, and you've lived your best life living for yourself that way, in bliss, in ignorance— in peace, but what is peace in a place where you can't move by yourself? In a world that’s maimed by the rich, and sure, it may be that you’ve chosen your path, but you were never walking a road that was yours, always trailing behind something.

Nameless, that’s what you thought you would need to be.

Your monks wanted to be called their title like everyone else, it would have been disrespectful to ask Lady Kim for hers which you now regret, and not even as a secret did your old man tell you his name, but you— you, Y/N, you have a name and you want to scream it, live it as loud as you can, hear it echo back with a volume that feels stronger when it rings back.

You could have settled on being acknowledged by your supervisor to earn some good money, but this is what you’re here for, aren’t you? Why you trusted your gut to stick to the scary men? Why you walked to them with confident steps, even when a nervous knot was forming together inside you? Did you go as what, an act of defiance? One of independence? To prove yourself that you were still standing on your own feet?

"Speaking of, brother..."

Yes, with no shame.

"You really enjoyed yourself back there, didn’t you?”, San asks. “Didn’t expect that from you.”

Seonghwa is kissing you down your breast, observing closely how you breathlessly react to his tongue twirling around your nipple.

"You left me no other chance," the older male hums, coating your circular buds with his saliva, bringing out your heavenly sighs every chance he gets, stroking himself to the sounds of your pleasure.

"Well, I would have made sure you still fucked her, brother."

“Sure,” Seonghwa lisps and positions his cockhead at your entrance. 

You try to grab San's shoulder behind you, as the male pushes himself inside, and your torso rotates to the side with your eyebrows pulling together, your cunt being spread apart.  “F-fuck,” you exhale, and Seonghwa kisses the corner of your lip to soothe you. Your cunt squelches around his cock and your hips roll by themselves, wanting to take more of his length.

"Shit, look at her go," the mafiaboss woos, "Fuck yourself out, brother."

"Think you’ll miss this?", Seonghwa snickers and it must be the first question he has asked today. “Y- yeah, you will!”, you snap, feeling eager to be acknowledged for how good your cunt wraps around his throbbing heat. 

“Oh, princess,” the CEO laughs, and your stomach drops because of how pretty his laughter sounds, and he caresses your cheek, only making your confusion and desire to finally uncover what the two men have obviously been keeping from you grow bigger. You don’t want to say it abruptly, but you three are naked, in a confined space, skins pressed against each other, so you believe you’re worth some type of explanation– or are you not?

“C- can you tell me what’s going to happen?”, you whine, and Seonghwa moves his hips, grabbing you by your waist to get his whole length. “Are you, fuck, going to leave me?”

“I dunno, brother, you call it,” San mutters. “It was your plan.”

“D- don’t!”

“It’s barely my plan anymore,” Seonghwa breathes, bucking his pelvis in, his cockhead being sucked in by your sensitive cunt.

“Don’t leave me!”

“You needed a distraction, brother, I got you one.”

“No,” Seonghwa chuckles, but in his heat, he kisses you and glances up at San while his tongue brushes against your lip. “But I’ll admit she saved us some jail-time, San.”

They continue talking over your pleas, and though you would have loved to ask a second time how the night was going to end, your brain has started to give into the pleasure once San folds your legs together, holding you by your hamstrings, giving Seonghwa an easier angle to fuck you senseless. 

“F- fu-huuck,” you breathe out, and your eyes are disappearing behind your molten, droopy eyelids, with Seonghwa cumming for the second time on your abdomen and cleaning it up with his handkerchief, and you don’t even know when it was, that San crammed out his cock   again, but you can definitely feel the difference of his girth, when he re-enters your used cunt, your legs shakily landing on the floor. They feel wobbly, your thighs having gone loose, and the mafiaboss has to hold you by your arms behind your back to support you.

“Can’t take it anymore, baby?”, San whispers into your ear, and his voice is low, very low, you don’t know how much time has passed since you could make out any of his words, but it feels like you’re back here, in the elevator, and Seonghwa is putting on his belt again.

“I c- can!”, you manage to whine out, not wanting the night to end, not wanting to return to your small apartment, not wanting these two to be gone from your life. “I can!”, you repeat yourself, when San lets out a mockful cackle. “You’re not going to fucking leave me here, San!”

“Who said anything about leaving you here, baby?”, he asks you, and he does mean his confusion, but the sarcastic undertone makes you desperate grow desperate. San frowns. “What did I tell you, baby?”

“You aren’t telling me shit, San!”, you sob, and his cock running through you prevents you from finding a braver voice, his two hands find your wrists to bind them together in his grip. “Aren’t you such a smartie,” he growls into your ear, hot air hitting your dissolving ear.

“Brother,” San calls out, and the addressed man is busy opening up his briefcase, getting on his knee. “I’m still waiting on you, y’know.”

“If you had stuck to the plan, th–” Seonghwa murmurs, but the mafiaboss falls into his word. “Then we would have fuckin’ send the bitch to prison and someone else would have him killed him, but there! You know I didn’t come with the fucking patience for that, brother! Geezer was getting on my fucking nerves.”

Killed?

“And don’t you talk back now,” San warns, “It was you who killed all of ‘em, so you figure out how you’re going to carry that one out.”

Killed?

“You already know how I’m going to carry this out.” Seonghwa smirks. “But you’re stopping me, San.”

“Augh, brother, you’re too sober for your own sake!” San’s cock is too deep in your cunt and your body is too much in his control for you to stop moaning like a bitch, but in your head, you’re puzzling together tonight’s happenings.

Expensive whiskey. Ice cubes. Ten minutes, gunshots, black leather gloves– “killed.”

Oh, Y/N.

“What did you do with the chairman, Seonghwa?”, you moan out, feeling how the mafiaboss is ramming himself into you at a sloppy, greedy pace, prolonging how much he can be inside you before he comes again, and you don’t know whether his heavy breathing can cover up the silence that it takes for the CEO to react to your question.

Seonghwa is still kneeled on the floor, when he rotates his head, smiling, his eyebrows pushed up. “What do you think I did?” His second question of the day.

“I- I,” you stutter, but San shakes his head, and interrupts you with his voice still loose from the alcohol, “you really don’t know how to keep up a good mood, brother!”, grabbing you by your chin and yanking your head up. “Lemme make my baby cum first!”

You can’t see Seonghwa anymore. You can barely see anything anymore, you’re counting your fifth or sixth orgasm of the night, cunt growing hotter with each time San thrusts into it, and with your breath being cut off, you slowly feel your arms lose their responsibility, tingling up from where your wrists are crossed behind your back. His cockhead is flaying against your g-spot and your thighs tremble at how used you’re being, eyes falling in, throat feeling tied up.

“S- San,” you manage to cough out, back arching for your final cry of pleasure, and San grins, letting go of your wrists, which makes you immediately fall to the front, finding safety against the mirror with both of your hands. He smacks his hands against your ass and lunges into you until your whole breast is pushed against the cold wall. 

“Come on, baby, come for me,” San roars, and you wail, tired, exhausted, feeling the orgasm drown you like another wave in the ocean of bliss you’ve been swimming in, whining out, “coming, coming for you, San!”

The mafiaboss presses himself against your back, his silver cross being imprinted into your neck, as he unloads himself, his last drops of hot cum overflowing out of you. “Fucking slut… So fucking good…”

He kisses your jaw repeatedly and looks at how tiredly closed your eyes are in the mirror, cooing “aww, baby.” San strokes away a strand of hair and gets himself off your body, pulling out. “You look like you need some sleep, baby.”

You are trying to catch your breath, grabbing the handrail to hold yourself up, as it sounds like San is putting on his shirt again. They’re gonna fucking leave you here, aren’t they? Leave you here in the elevator with the– with the fucking bankrolls on the floor of the fucking men you fucking– Oh god… Keep breathing, Y/N. Keep on breathing.

“I mean all I’m saying… you know… lobsters and crabs are friends, pal.”

What the fuck is he on again…

“You’re making this hard on yourself.”

“I’m not doing anything, just sayin’ that she just grew on me, that’s all.”

Your legs tremble, as you try straightening them to stand up and see what the two are scheming again, but as you turn your body around, ass against the handrail again, you hear a very unfamiliar clicking in front of your forehead area which is not coming out of San’s mouth.

“You’ve grown soft. That’s what you did.”

“Ahhh, fuck you, brother.”

“Pathetic.”

You see a hole, and it also doesn’t take you long to see Seonghwa ready to pull the trigger, the mafiaboss leaning into the corner of the elevator, arms crossed, looking at you with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, pressing the button that leads to the lobby.

The night is over.

“A- are you going to– oh my g-god, are you going to kill me…?”

“Yes, princess.”

Your heart is going to burst, you could puke out so many words right now, but you don’t know what to do. You don’t want to die, not when you felt so fucking alive– you– fuck, you should feel sorry that your coworkers that they didn’t deserve to go the same way as the asswipes did, because you’ve long realised that the bangs were their skulls being crushed by the bullets, but at the same time you couldn’t care any fucking less about them right now. You just have to survive, that was the only thing that mattered since the very beginning. This is about your life. Your precious fucking life.

“Ah…”

Your body is too weak to hyperventilate, but your brain is working overtime. Do you run? Attack them? No…

Seonghwa hasn’t moved an inch away from your face, and you take it upon yourself to raise your hand and slowly push the cold, black gun to the side, so you can look him in his eyes, but he forces it back there.

“Please don’t kill me… I can do so much for you! I– I,” you stutter, trying to gather all the knowledge your monks have taught you. “I– I’ll do anything! You– you saw me, didn’t you? I have– I’ve been told I have a talent for serving! I– I can do anything, please, I beg you, just…”

You fall to your knees, and they burn on the glassy floor, your hands folded in front of your abdomen. 

“Just please, let me live…”

You’re not greedy. You’ve only taken what you were given, and tonight, you’ve been given so much. Too much? No, it couldn’t be…

“Brother.”

There are tears flowing down your eyes, and you feel so sorry for yourself. You miss your old monk, and hope that you may be reincarnated to a butterfly that he can admire, just so that he can look at you with his adoring eyes again. So someone can want the best for you once in your life–

“Brother?”

So anyone can finally love you for once in your life.

[pocketjoong-reads]

trapping thieves | circus | J.YH + S.MG

series masterlist // previous part // next part

genre »» hybrid au, non-idol au pairing »» yungi x reader warning »» mental health, mention of abuse word count »» 5.1k

y/n's perspective

“Wah!! This is so good!” Wooyoung said happily as we all ate dessert. Today was the anniversary of when I took San home with me after adopting Yeosang.

The two wanted to celebrate the day together. So the "official" day of adoption was now the day I took San home from the facility with Wooyoung. 

“In three months we’re gonna celebrate mine, right?” Yeosang asked -- I smiled and nodded. It's also been nine months since I've had Yeosang.

While it’s only been three months since I’ve had the tigers, everyone has improved so much.

Wooyoung is still the happy hybrid but he no longer goes through low episodes where he’d get insecure… he also trusted me that I'd never abandon him which made me happy that he didn’t have to change his personality. 

San has been getting better with going outside… bells no longer trigger him but do make him uncomfortable. He’s also comfortable around some of my friends which makes me happy he’s healing the old wounds from the ring.

Yeosang is no longer worried about misbehaving. He eats a lot more now and accepts gifts without doing things in return. He’s also no longer been going to any behavior specialist counseling from Kun.

While Seonghwa and Hongjoong were still adjusting. Seonghwa would be the most attentive hybrid, he takes care of everyone and makes sure we’re all okay. 

He confessed he would do that in the circus to make sure everyone was doing alright. Hongjoong has been taking leadership by scolding the other hybrids if doing something bad. Otherwise, they’ve all gotten along.

It made me happy they accepted each other and me. The apartment was no longer lonely. I’ve also rewritten the circus story with Hongjoong’s help.

“Stop eating like pigs!” Seonghwa scolded the panther and fox hybrid, who didn’t listen. “Seriously the two of you have chocolate all over you,” Hongjoong said and I laughed.  

“Here’s the receipt ma’m” I heard as I saw the waitress with my card. “Be careful while walking around here ma'am -- there have been pickpockets stealing wallets and cash around here,” she said and I nodded. 

The infamous Seoul pickpockets at the moment keep robbing people.

“Here you go, angel” I heard as I saw Yeosang offer to help me put on my coat. “Thanks, Sangie!” I said and he smiled. “Those two are happy,” he said as I saw Seonghwa now cleaning up San and Wooyoung. 

“Yeah… we’ll celebrate you too soon,” I said and she smiled. “Thank you, angel,” he said as we all walked outside now. 

San and Wooyoung were saying how next year they want an even bigger dinner… “Ooh, Hongjoong you know what we should do! Barbeque!” Seonghwa said while the tiger laughed. “Maybe we’ll do that for me,” Yeosang said while being glared at by Seonghwa and Hongjoong laughing beside him. 

“HEY COME BACK HERE!!” I heard a familiar boy running towards the alleyway… “Shotaro!” I yelled as I rushed towards him, my hybrids following me. “y/n? And all your hybrids wow…” he said shocked and I smiled shyly.

“I might just ask Yuta to hire a hybrid at the shop,” he said and I was confused. “What happened are you okay?” I asked and he nodded. 

“My wallet is gone,” he said and I sighed… “The Infamous thief strikes again,” I said and he nodded. 

“I smell a hybrid,” San said and I looked at him confused. “A hybrid robbed me? But hybrid control would’ve already gotten him if that's the case” Shotaro suggested and San shrugged. 

“There's a lot of hybrids who look human-like and pretend to be human.” Seonghwa explained “Or they hide their ears and tail with a hat or jacket” Yeosang suggested. 

“Then we should tell Kun. If the thief is a hybrid then hybrid control needs to be in charge of it” Shoatro said and I sighed. 

“y/n, didn’t you say the thief stole two hundred dollars from you?” Shotaro asked and I nodded. “What?! When?!” San and Wooyoung said and all of them looked surprised but Hongjoong already knew. 

“The first time was when I went to visit Seonghwa the first time and then the second when all of you were in the facility,” I said and they looked down. 

Those weren't fond memories for anyone...

“Go home, it's getting late. I’ll call Taeyong right now” he said and I nodded. “Protect her,” Shotaro said to my hybrids and I sighed. 

“Come on, we need to go home” 

yunho’s perspective

‘Woah! He had a hundred!” Mingi said happily and I smiled softly. “It's been a while since we found a hundred! Since that one girl!” he said and I sighed. 

I still felt guilty for robbing her… so we only took cash from her.

“I’ve been seeing her often with this tiger hybrid though,” Mingi said and I agreed. “She has five hybrids. Don’t steal from her okay?” I asked and he pouted but nodded.

I saw how many hybrids she had… they cared for her and would surely attack us for her. 

A panther, a fox, two tigers, and a doberman hybrid were always around her. 

“Maybe we can eat a good meal tomorrow!” Mingi suggested and I smiled. “What do you wanna eat?” I asked and he was thinking of an answer. 

“Ramyeon?” Mingi asked and I nodded. “Convenience Store tomorrow?” I asked and he nodded happily. 

We bought a few cheap snacks and the cheapest ramen they had when I saw her again. “Mingi don’t go there,” I said as I grabbed his wrist pulling him the opposite way of her. 

“Hey, she’s alone!” he said and I shook my head. “You can’t rob her” I whispered and he scoffed. “Come on, she doesn’t need it,” he whined and I sighed. 

“Thank you, y/n. When I get my paycheck I'll pay you back!” I heard… THAT WAS THE BOY WE ROBBED!

“Mingi, we need to… go” he was next to me… where did he go?! “Behind you” I heard and I was relieved… “Look what I got!” he said happily when I recognized that wallet… “No give it back” I whispered and he scoffed. 

“Huh? My wallets are gone!” I heard and I dropped out of the cart. “We have to leave,” I said and he shook his head. “We can pay and then leave” he suggested and I shook my head. 

“Sir, we need to check your pockets” I heard as I saw them check everyone trying to leave… “Mingi give it back,” I said and he soon panicked… “Yunho we have to run,” he said as he ran and I had to follow him. 

“Hey!! Capture them!” I heard the security say as we ran away in broad daylight. We made it to an alleyway where we caught our breaths. 

“Why would you do that?!” I yelled and he sighed. “I thought it wasn’t gonna be a big deal! We need money Yunho!” he yelled. 

“So stealing is the only option for hybrids like you?” I heard as I saw the familiar tiger… he was with the girl the other day. He’s one of her hybrids.

“Give it back,” he said and I looked at Mingi who didn’t budge. The wolf hybrid looked intimidating but he wasn’t… despite his size, he was the runt of his litter, and he couldn’t fight. I couldn’t either… but the tiger was so small. What harm could he do?

“I’m not gonna ask again,” he said as I saw his claws get bigger. 

“Yunho we can take him,” Mingi said but I wasn’t so sure. Something told me no… he was getting closer when I saw a familiar figure “Hongjoong!” she said as he seemed to calm down immediately.

“Hey! Thieves!!!” the boy we robbed yesterday yelled. 

“Huh? You’re the guy who would always comfort me…” she said almost in a disappointed tone… if it wasn’t for my hat I would’ve surely looked like a kicked puppy.

“He has your wallet,” Hongjoong told her and her eyes widened…

“Every time you talked to me wasn’t because you were comforting me… you stole from me each time” she said and I didn’t know what to say.

“You’d always say my wallet was on the floor…” she said and I saw her eyes become glassy. “I trusted you… You’re a stranger I guess I shouldn’t have” she muttered as I saw the tiger go to her side and rub her back.

“I want my wallet back!” the boy yelled and I looked at Mingi who looked frozen. “Give it back…” I muttered and he took out the two wallets. “Yunho I’m sorry, this was my fault” 

I wanted to hand her wallet back but the tiger got it instead.

“Kun is coming soon,” the boy said and I was confused… who was that?

“I'm sorry… I did try helping you” I ended up saying but she didn’t look at me. I was jealous of the tiger. She cares for her hybrids… I see her every time she walks down this street with a hybrid… Most people collected them but she didn’t seem to be doing that. She loved them… why wasn’t I that lucky?

“Why can’t we run?” Mingi whispered and I knew the two were waiting for whoever Kun was… “I don’t know… we’re caught red-handed Mingi. It’s over” I said and he shook his head.

“No, it can’t be,” Mingi said as he stood up. “Look we’re sorry… we need to leave now,” Mingi said but the tiger… Hongjoong growled at the wolf hybrid.

“Hongjoong don’t,” the girl said to her hybrid but the tiger scoffed. He went back to her side and before Mingi could do anything I heard sirens.

“Yunho? Hybrid control… I don’t wanna go back to them” he said and I shook my head. 

“I don’t either… I’m sorry Mingi I failed you”

y/n’s perspective

“He comforted me when my hybrids were in here… it feels a little bit like betrayal” I confessed and Kun nodded. “I know, both hybrids are code green. They have owners coming to pick them up soon,” he said and I nodded. 

“Why would they run away, though?” I asked and he shrugged. “If I find any type of mistreatment then I won’t allow them to take them. However, we can’t assume the worst” he said and I nodded.

“Kun, the owners are here” I heard Haechan say from the door. “Yah! You two are eating lunch without me?” he pouted and I chuckled

“Haechan you took a thirty-minute break already… also it's supposed to be fifteen.” he scolded and the young boy laughed it off “y/n you might also want to come,” he said as I followed him outside to see a couple and their two kids.

“Do tricks for us, tiger!” I heard the kids yell and I saw Hongjoong clearly uncomfortable… “Joong, come here,” I said as he was now behind me. 

Hongjoon definitely had some triggers, being told to do tricks was definitely one of them. Being recognized as a whole makes him quite anxious. 

“Oh, come on. Let the hybrid do some tricks” a woman asked and I chuckled awkwardly. “I’m sorry, but he doesn’t do this–” “I didn’t ask, darling. My kids want to play with him so I said let the hybrid do some tricks' ' she said rather rudely and I scoffed.

“And who are you to tell me what to do? May I remind you that your two hybrids ran away?! They robbed me!” I yelled and she scoffed. 

“What do you want? A Twenty?” she asked and I glared. “More like two hundred” I muttered and she laughed. “Two hundred is nothing here,” she said as she grabbed her husband’s wallet and handed me two hundred dollars and I scoffed. 

“I don’t want your pathetic money,” I said and she glared. She instead threw the money at me and laughed. “You look like you need it,” she said, and before I could say anything–

“Yuyu!!” I heard the children yell at the hybrid. I saw the golden retriever hybrid look at his owner fearfully and nervously. The wolf hybrid also stared at the ground…

“Are you okay?” I asked as I put my hands over Hong Joong's who gripped my hips. He nodded softly as he got closer and hugged me, trying to comfort himself.

“We only wanted, Yunho” I heard the lady say. “Please” I heard Yunho plead. “Who are you to ask for things? You ran away, you’ll be punished. Look doctor, Mingi is a violent hybrid he shouldn't even be a code green” she said making me scoff. 

I saw the kids pull on Yunho’s tail while the hybrid could only look at his companion. Was that why they ran away?

“You want to revoke ownership?” Kun asked and she nodded and soon looked at me. “How much for your tiger?” she asked and I scoffed.

“You aren’t getting him,” I said and she smiled. “Honey, don’t you think he’ll give the kids such a good time?” she asked as the husband now looked at Hongjoong who tried his best to hide behind me.

“I can offer a hundred thousand?” he asked and I scoffed. “No,” I said and the wife’s eyes widened. “Oh please. Don’t you need the money?” she asked and I scoffed. “Look at his collar?” I heard the man whisper and the lady rolled her eyes. 

“Why does a stupid tacky collar matter at this moment?”

“His collar is a custom design. It costs a hundred thousand.” I said and her eyes widened for a bit before rolling her eyes. “And how did you afford that? A kid like you can’t afford that without… sell–""My name is y/n l/n '' I said and their eyes widened.

“As in the CEO?” the husband asked and I smiled softly. “Yes, you wanna try again?” I asked and before the wife could say anything the man bowed. 

“I’m sorry, I didn–” “I want both of you to apologize to my hybrid,” I said and they looked at each other. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” the husband said while the wife refused. 

“I-I work with your parents you know?” he said and I laughed.

“Maybe I’ll tell him to stop, come on Hongjoong. Bye Kun I hope they don’t cause too much trouble, if they do you have my number” I said as I left Hongjoong.

“Thank you,” he said and I smiled. “I’d never let anyone treat any of you like that… I just feel bad for the two. They’re gonna be separated. You saw how desperate they were.” I said and he sighed. 

“I couldn’t imagine how I would feel if you decided to only adopt Seonghwa,” Hongjoong confessed and I smiled. 

“You’ll never be separated from him”

hongjoong's perspective

I felt pathetic hiding behind her… but she did defend me. I guess this is how Yeosang feels about his ex-owner. 

We finally went back to the apartment when I the familiar orange ears tackle y/n in a hug. “I missed you!! You said it’d be fast!! Why’d you take hours!” he yelled and pouted.

“Angel!” I heard as I saw the familiar pointy-eared hybrid. 

“Is everything okay?” I heard as I saw Seonghwa… he looked at me worriedly. “Hmm? What is the tiny tiger upset about?” San said and I looked down.

“Don’t tease him… Hongjoong don’t think about it too much okay? You did amazing today, thank you for saving me and my wallet” she said with a smile and I nodded.

“What happened?” “It's a long story”

y/n's perspective

“Maybe the two hybrids ran away because they were gonna be separated,” Wooyoung suggested and I think he was right.

I saw how Hongjoong was being comforted by Seonghwa. The two got told to do circus tricks often… 

“Or they had snobby owners” Yeosang muttered and I sighed. “Even if that’s the case I already called my dad to not work with them anymore and even told Chenle to spread the word” I said and Yeosang laughed.

“So what’ll happen to them?” San asked and I shrugged. “I guess they’ll retire early?” I said and the hybrids all laughed even though I did mean it.

I wasn’t gonna let them treat Hongjoong that way and get away with it.

“You should’ve taken the two hundred dollars back” Wooyoung suggested and I scoffed. 

“Trust me they'll need that money more than me” I said and he chuckled.

“Come on, we should eat before everything gets cold, '' Wooyoung said as everyone slowly went to the kitchen.

I looped my arm around Hongjoong's side who smiled softly at me.

“Don’t worry, okay? I know you all want to protect me and you did! You got my wallet back and in return I’ll protect you from people like that” I promised and I smiled and kissed my head.

“Thank you, I’m lucky you gave me a second chance”

mingi's perspective

How was I this unlucky?

I should’ve listened to Yunho… I shouldn’t have robbed her. She always had one of her hybrids around and of course, she had one yesterday.

“Hey, buddy. You’re done with the evaluation today. You're code green!” One of the workers said and I nodded.

He kept writing things on that clipboard of his…

“I wanna see Yunho,” I said and he sighed. “His owner took him. I doubt you’ll be able to see them unless they come here.” He said as he led me inside the facility again.

“What do you want? Money? Name your price!!” I heard as we went to the reception area.

“Mingi!” I heard as I saw Yunho. He came up and hugged me but I saw he winced a little bit.

“I’m sorry” I apologized and he chuckled. “It’s okay. We’ll be together soon” he said and I doubt that’ll ever happen.

“Miss, we can't give you her phone number because you asked. That’s a violation of privacy and security—“ ”I don’t care! That bitch made my husband fired!” She yelled.

“The girl is apparently a CEO's daughter and now he’s fired because of how she treated her yesterday,” Yunho said and I laughed. It was deserved. 

“I’ll pay you… a thousand dollars” she offered and I sighed. She’ll never change.

“Come on, Mingi” I heard as one of the worlds wanted to lead me away. “Huh? Please can I stay for a little?” I asked and he sighed but nodded. He was unleashing me when the receptionist came up.

“Chenle, can’t I just give her y/n’s phone number and get a thousand dollars?” the boy asked and I almost laughed. It was easy money and for a lot.

“Is it really worth it?” the other boy… Chenle asked. “Huh?! Of course, it is! I’m sorry you’re so rich you can afford anything like y/n” he pouted and I was interested. He was also rich?

“If you give her y/n’s phone number she’ll kill you” Chenle warned and the receptionist pouted. 

“She’ll understand,” he said and Chenle scoffed. “You’re playing with fire,” Chenle said and the receptionist shrugged. 

“I’m sorry but I have a business to attend to,” the doctor said as he left my previous owner…

“What are you doing here?” She asked while looking at me. “What if I call y/n to come here? That wouldn’t be a violation of privacy?” The receptionist offered and she smirked.

“Then do it,” she said but he put his hand out. She rolled her eyes and gave him a check of what I assumed to be a thousand.

“She’s gonna kill him, '' Chenle muttered. “Is she scary?” Yunho asked. “y/n? Kind of… I mean only when she’s angry and she already humiliated and insulted one of her hybrids so yeah she’ll be mad to be tricked by Haechan '' he explained and I realized she protected her hybrids.

She cared a lot for them.

“y/n!!” The receptionist said. “Idiot” Chenle muttered. “Kun wants to do a last-minute check on San. Hmm? No, it’s nothing serious but he wants to go over some lab results he missed from his last check up” the receptionist said. 

“Ok, thank you. See you see y/n” he said and told the devil herself to sit down.

“Easy!” He said to Chenle and the boy only scoffed. “Even if I was in debt like you, I wouldn’t mess with y/n. She got her husband fired, she can get you fired. You know how much Kun respects her” Chenle said and the boy chuckled. 

“But a thousand dollars!” He said and he rolled his eyes. “Haechan, you’re dead. Take care of Mingi, I actually have work to do unlike you” he said as he left me with Haechan.

“I heard you were code green. Congratulations!” He said and I smiled while looking at Yunho. “Is y/n a bad person?” Yunho asked and Haechan shook her head. 

“One of the best people. She’s just scary when mad, she is a CEO's daughter” he said and I sighed.

It didn’t take long until I saw the familiar girl but with her panther hybrid. Haechan approached her and I heard him apologize in advance.

“y/n right?” the she-devil said and the girl glared at the receptionist who was admiring his check. 

“Look, I want you to take back whatever kid behavior this is. You’re messing with people's lives honey and—“ 

“I don’t really care what you have to say. If you’re so worried about your lives you would've been nicer to others” she said and the devil scoffed.

“Oh come on! Just tell daddy that what you said was some joke and that—" "Why don’t you tell your husband for a divorce since I feel bad his career was ruined because of your mouth” she said and I felt my eyes widen. 

I looked at Yunho who had the same expression. The she-devil was gonna slap her but the hybrid seemed to react faster when he grabbed her hips and pushed her back. 

He growled at her for attempting to hit her. 

“What’s going on here?!” I heard as I saw the doctor. “Look, Miss, you need to leave before I call the police.” The doctor said. “You should call the police, she's crazy, '' y/n said and the devil incarnate grabbed Yunho's collar and took him with her. 

“Why’d you come?” The doctor asked and I was now alone. Yunho is gone again. 

“I don’t know. Haechan, why was I here again?” She asked and the boy smiled awkwardly.

“I’m gonna take my fifteen-minute break”

y/n's perpective

“Sorry y/n and San” Kun said and I shook my head. “It's not your fault and I can't blame Haechan too much, he is a student in debt,'' I said and he smiled softly while bowing.

“Can I ask how the situation is going?” I asked and he sighed. 

“Yunho and Mingi were both adopted at a young age from breeders. Yunho is a golden retriever hybrid, whilst Mingi is a wolf hybrid. However, he was the runt of the litter whilst Yunho was the only hybrid born from his mother. Their owner originally wanted to adopt only one hybrid but adopted the two” he explained.

“But why would she change her mind?” San asked and I could tell Kun was a bit stressed with how he started organizing his paperwork.

“They're a bonded pair -- almost like mates, but being separated is affecting Mingi's health. So it wasn't recommended to separate them when they were so young and it still isn’t” he explained and I felt bad for the wolf. 

“What’s the difference between the two then? She seems to prefer the dog?” San asked and Kun agreed. “She explained that she didn’t expect the hybrids to be so tall yet so big in size. She has kids and she even claimed that he attacked her kids, but he isn't remotely violent at all” he explained and I was assuming she lied about it to get rid of him easily. 

“I want him to apologize to you,” San said to me and I looked at him a little shocked. “San, he was doing it to survive-” “He still stole from you…” he said and Kun looked at me a little mischievously… “Why are you looking at me that way?” I asked and he chuckled softly.

“Here,” he said as he handed me a pamphlet for… fostering hybrids. 

“No–” I and San said but were both interrupted. “For now, so he can forget about Yunho, he’s going through depression and all of the green code hybrids have been transferred or can’t be with other hybrids. He is going through a dependent disorder, which I think can be broken by being with other hybrids” he said and I really felt bad and a little guilty ( even though I shouldn’t ).

“Just for a week” he begged and I sighed. Before I could deny he reminded me why I hate men. “You owe me for letting you adopt three orange hybrids even though you have no qualifications,” he said and I scoffed. 

“Fine,” I said knowing I couldn’t do anything with that card he pulled. “But he isn’t staying with us permanently right?” San asked and I shook my head.

Kun soon called in Jisung who was leading us to Mingi… “Another hybrid? Are you���” I interrupted him by showing him the pamphlet and he laughed. 

“You’re getting blackmailed by Kun?!” he let out and I rolled my eyes.

“Mingi, come on we want you to meet someone,” he said as he looked up at his sitting position to widen his eyes in shock and I could tell he was a little scared.

“I-I’m sorry! R-really I… I don't–” “Calm down, buddy. Deep breaths she isn't gonna do anything to you. She’s here to help, think of it as your treatment” he explained and the wolf nodded slowly not knowing what was happening. 

“Ok so the foster hybrid process is–”

mingi’s perspective

My treatment was under a foster hybrid program with y/n. The woman I stole from… the woman who I shouldn't have stolen or else I would’ve been with Yunho… a woman with five hybrids who will hate me.

I expect her to get back on me… maybe starve me? Or hit me?

I don’t know yet… Her hybrids seem pretty happy and healthy? I couldn’t assume though, she might be an awful person and abuse them… but Yunho said he didn’t think so.

“We’re here, you’ll be sharing with my tiger hybrid, Hongjoong,” she said and I think she meant the tiger that was with her the day we were caught. 

“y/n! Yeosang is being mean… ” I saw a fox hybrid happily approach her only to stop at the sight of me. “You started… it?” I soon saw a dog hybrid glare at me…

“This is Mingi… Kun asked me a favor and we’ll be fostering him for a week” she explained and the fox scoffed. “Fostering?” the dog said, confused. “It's a program where you can trial run a hybrid to see if they are a good fit for you” the fox explained and the dog glared. 

“No! The tigers are enough and now him! You didn’t even ask us!” he said angrily. 

“The doctor technically blackmailed her to take him. He won’t stay here for long… only a week” the panther glared at me.

I already didn’t feel wanted. 

The fox and dog glared at me. “Come on… don't be mean,” she said softly while approaching the fox hugging him. He hugged her back tight… She also smiled sweetly at the dog who caressed his head.

“Fine… but I'd rather stay with Seonghwa than a wolf,” the dog said and she smiled softly. ‘He’ll be with Hongjoong” she said and he laughed. 

“Tell him that, he literally locks himself in there,” he said and I think my roommate won’t like me already.

“Is y/n back?” I heard as I saw the two tigers who stopped at the sight of me. “YOU!” the orange tiger yelled and I panicked. “Why is he here?!” he yelled and I wanted to leave… 

“You know him?” the panther asked and he scoffed. 

“He’s the wolf hybrid who robbed y/n!” he said and then looked at me hatefully… this wasn’t a good idea.

“Come on… he did it to survive. Hongjoong don’t act like you never wanted to escape. All of you did besides Wooyoung” she scolded and they all looked away from her but the fox. 

“His friend was taken away from him. So be nice, he doesn’t have a home and he’s not as lucky as you guys” she said and they nodded. “Sorry y/n” they said. 

“Hongjoong, he’ll be sharing rooms with you– Only temporarily! Please?” she asked and he nodded even though I could tell he didn’t want to.

“Mingi, are you hungry?” she asked me and I was but I didn’t know if this was a trap… she didn’t seem bad. They all seemed like happy hybrids. I shook my head despite not eating today.

“Hongjoong show him your new room okay?” 

“I’m sorry for what she said to you by the way,” I said to the tiger who I saw froze for a second before shaking his head. “It’s not your fault… you should be apologizing to y/n for stealing from her. And for tricking her like the two of you did, she felt betrayed” he explained and I nodded. 

“Yunho really liked her…” I muttered and he didn't say anything. 

“I really like your hair,” I said and he smiled softly. “Thanks… y/n said I could get it done. I was overdue for a haircut,” he said and I smiled softly. 

“I’ve been to your show before,” I said and he sighed. “I’m sorry you went through that…” I added and he nodded. “Just don't mention it around me or Seonghwa… he's the other tiger hybrid,” he said and I nodded. 

“Anything else I should avoid?” I asked and he nodded. “Don’t get too close to San… he’ll attack you. He isn’t too good with new people, especially hybrids,” he explained and I was curious as to why…

“Also don’t show Wooyoung, you're annoyed with him. He’ll be upset. While staying away from Yeosang he’s very possessive of y/n '' he explained and I was overwhelmed. 

“What?” I asked and he chuckled. 

“You’re an intruder. y/n is our mate, while you're an unmated male in our territory. San will attack you if you're too close, Yeosang will talk badly about you to y/n, Seonghwa will likely avoid you, and I’m also cautious of you… Wooyoung is the best bet. If you befriend him the others will like you also. 

I needed to befriend Wooyoung… who was he again?

“I don’t know how much progress you’ll make in a week though”

don't be a silent reader, please like and reblog and comment / ask :)

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bolded tags are those I couldn't tag, if you wish to stop being in this series taglist ask / message me

[pocketjoong-reads]

Ghost!pirate!hongjoong who follows you around after you visited the museum his ship wreck ruins were being displayed at. He just follows you around and helps you when you need to, gets inside your dreams and eats you out till you have to get up but sometimes tells you stories about his crew and old times, who also really dislikes your bff who he sees as someone he should get rid off bc he just looks at you in a irritating way

He is just trying to protect you, dont try to stop him, you wont be able to anyways

🏷️ kim hongjoong x fem!reader. cw ; yandere!hongjoong, ghost!hongjoong, dub/noncon, somnophilia, oral (f), fingering, edging, possessive and other toxic yandere behavior ( 470 w. )

minors dni. for mature audiences only !

you're not sure where the pirate who keeps showing up in your dreams came from, but on some days you swear he almost feels real. you've got used to his presence (sometimes even looking forward to it) but even after all those months there's something about his lazy, calculating smile that makes your blood run cold.

at night you wake with his dark head of hair between your legs, tongue already parting your folds and your slick dripping down his chin. he never does any thing more than that: eats you out until your legs are shaking, then disappears into thin air, leaving you aching and empty. no matter how much you beg his shining eyes never change, never give in.

you like the tales about his old crew (where are they now? he doesn't tell and you don't dare ask), and the way his face lights up when he talks about his members almost makes him look human. 8 makes one team. the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. stories from another time, so vivid it's as if you're there with them. it's easy to get lost in him. you're going out less often these days, heading home after work as soon as you can because you know he might be waiting for you. his visits aren't limited to the nights any more, even though he's unreliable and flaky; sometimes he doesn't show up for days at a time, sometimes he stays with you for hours.

it only makes you more eager to stay home and wait for him. what if you go out and miss him? he might get angry again, it wouldn't be the first time, waking you with his fingers deep inside your cunt for seven nights straight — and removing them right before you could reach your peak. every time you fell asleep he'd wake you up, turning you into a begging mess. the dark circles under your eyes grew with each passing night. there was no point in fighting him; he'd pinned your hands above your head when you'd tried to relieve yourself, surprising strength in such a lithe body.

and on the seventh night, when he was finally satisfied with your sobs, he'd kissed you for the first time and told you the salt on your cheeks reminded him of the sea, his first love. he'd never thought he'd find someone as pretty as her until fate had brought you together.

"you're mine, and mine alone. don't you ever forget it." he'd reinforced his words by finally, finally letting the waves of sweet bliss overtake you.

slowly, hongjoong draws you away from your coworkers. your friends. your family. even your best friend. the only thing on your mind is him, the only one you need in life: your captain.

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

[pocketjoong-reads]

New Horizons (Park Seonghwa) (Ch. 2)

Chapter 2: Wishes

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Words: 3.2K+

Warning(s): Mentions of rude customers, MC is stressed(tm), use of time jumps

A/N: Chapter 2 is here! I hope you guys enjoy it. I think its my favorite of the four <3 Not much else to say other than tadaaa and thank you for the love for the first chapter.

Reader is implied to be living in the US bc uh TIMEZONES ARE FUCKY and i didnt realize how reliant i was on mine (PST) when looking up KST

Italicized is English, just an fyi

Summary: Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.

Series Masterlist | Navigation

You got out of your last class for the day in the afternoon and ready to get your shift done at the bookstore next. It was a warm Thursday but you were glad it was slowly starting to cool off. Shifting your bag your shoulder you pull out your phone and see you got a message while in class. You smile and press the kakaotalk app. Seonghwa had sent you a message.

'Good afternoon for you, (Y/N). I just woke up. I hope classes have been well.' Followed by a cute emote of a cat yawning in bed.

After inviting Seonghwa to your island to sell turnips and take Marshal, you two began playing together. This was initiated by him, saying that he wanted more Animal Crossing friends. You and him swapped gifts for a few days in the game when he asked if you'd like to message through kakaotalk and here you both were now. At first most of your conversations pertained to Animal Crossing but gradually it shifted to you two learning about each other and talking.

And not just over text either.

When Seonghwa learned you were learning Korean he offered to help you out with verbal conversations if you helped him with English. At first you wanted to decline since you knew he would be busy and the time zones would make it difficult. He talked you into it, however, saying on the weekend when he has a shorter practice day and on your Friday nights when you could stay up layer you'd both video chat to show the progress you've both made for the week. Though, soon that would lead to sporadic video chats when either of you had free time.

'Good morning to you. I just got done with classes and I'll be heading to work in an hour. :)'

You replied and a few moments later he responded.

'Want to have a quick video call before I need to leave for practice?'

'Sure, let me find a spot to sit at.' You quickly found a small picnic table in the shade under a tree and put in your earphones. You hit the video call button and wait for him to pick up.

The screen shifted and you see his face. He seems to be at his deak with his phone set up to perfectly capture his face. You could faintly hear his Animal Crossing game in the background. You couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"Hey, Seonghwa. How did you sleep?" You greeted.

"Hello, (Y/N). I slept good." He smiled. "Were classes good today?"

"A bit boring. We just did lectures today and got a good chunk of reading to do for homework. Did you have breakfast yet?"

"I grabbed something small." You watch as he reaches over off screen and he holds up a bowl of cereal in one hand and an apple in the other. "I'll pick up more food when we get to the building." He lightly chuckled.

"Ah, yeah. I was running behind so I didn't have much to eat this morning." You saw him give you a playful scold. "But I'll be sure to pick up something at the café by my job. I have some left overs from last night that my roommate made for us that I am looking forward to after my shift."

"Oh, Redd is at my island and the real artwork is one I already have, the beautiful statue, do you want it?"

"That would be great, Seonghwa. I am missing that one. Man, it seems like Redd really likes visiting your island. He rarely ever comes to mine."

"Well, you've been having the better turnip-"

"Hyung!" Three loud, distinctive voices cut him off and soon you're seeing San, Mingi, and Wooyoung bust in behind him. Seonghwa was clearly flustered as he stared at you then looked back at the three men in his room.

You haven't gotten to speak to the other Ateez members before, nor were you ever begging or asking to. You'd let your friend decide when you'd be introduced to them. Seonghwa frequently mentioned the antics Ateez gets up to and he's mentioned that he has brought you up to them before. You were curious to see how this video call would go.

"Is that (Y/N)?" You see Mingi bend down into frame, looking at the phone. Wooyoung and San crowd around the elder male, who's ears were turning red.

"She is pretty, hyung." Your faces flushes with warmth when you hear Wooyoung not so quietly say. You smile though when you hear his words.

"It's nice to meet you finally. Seonghwa-hyung is always talking about you." San smiled brightly next to a mortified looking Seonghwa.

You chuckle, "It's nice to meet you three too! I hope you've heard all good things."

"Only good things. Hyung never shuts up about you." Wooyoung said playfully, rolling his eyes.

"Want to swap KaTalks?" Mingi asked while already pulling his phone out. San and Wooyoung quickly follow suit.

"Hey-!" Seonghwa tried to speak but the youngest in the room cut him off.

"We want to talk to and get to know (Y/N) too, hyung. And she can help us with our English. Right, (Y/N)?" Woo smiled at you and you can see a hint of mischievousness in his expression.

"Will the schedule Seonghwa and I have for those work for-"

"Yes, it would." San interrupts. "So KaTalk?"

You simply chuckle and immediately exchange numbers with them. You start to see notifications pop up on your screen of them texting you their names and emotes as well.

"Let's be friends." Mingi excitedly said with San nodding along.

"I look forward to talking to you guys."

"I look forward to talking to hyung's pretty friend-"

"Okay, out you three." Seonghwa cut Woo off and glared at the three of them as he stood up from his chair. You watch him shoo San, Wooyoung, and Mingi away, who were all very vocal in wanting to stay in his room and talk to you. You heard the door close loudly and then see Seonghwa sit back down in front of his phone. His ears, cheeks, and the sides of his neck were blushing.

"They seem fun." You tease.

"Try living with them. I'd never get peace if Woo was living in the dorm too." He rolled his eyes but still kept a soft expression. "I do love them despite the teasing me."

"So you talk about me to them?"

"W-well, yeah. I consider you a friend and all-"

"Seonghwa!" Suddenly you heard Hongjoong's voice in the call. "Woo told us you were speaking to your game friend!"

You see Hongjoong and Yeosang flank Seonghwa and kneel on the ground while Jongho and Yuhno stand behind them, leaning down a bit to be in frame. The eldest male looked so embarrassed as they started to greet you and asking you to exchange numbers, making sure to tell you how much Hwa has mentioned you.

----------

It was late one Friday evening as you got home from work. You were feeling especially exhausted from dealing with rude customers and from staying up late the night before getting homework done. Your professors must be collaborating to make your homework levels as stressful as possible with all the assignments on top of the readings and the studying for finals next week.

And you swear customers must have planned to be the worst this week with their rudeness or staying in the store way past closing. Today alone you had a lady almost hit you with a book she tossed directed at your head and had a group of teens stay an hour past closing trying to see if they could stay in the store over night.

It hasn't been a good week. You've been so tired and drained, you've hardly been able to really communicate with Seonghwa or the rest of Ateez at all.

You slowly trudged to your room, saying hello and goodnight to your roommate on the way there. You wanted nothing more than to get into comfier clothes and sleep, but you knew your mind was too stressed to fall asleep immediately. Maybe some catching up on youtube or some Animal Crossing will help.

You close your room door and immediately toss your bag in the corner. You quickly grab some clothes to relax in before peeling off the outfit you'd been wearing all day. Almost instantly you felt some of the tension leave your body. You let out a sigh and roll your neck, stretching your limbs in hopes it'll help.

Your phone started ringing.

You look at the screen and see that it was Wooyoung wanting to video call.

Despite it two months since you got to officially meet the rest of Ateez, you were close with all the boys. Though, outside of Seonghwa, you talked with Wooyoung and San the most. Both were very sweet with you and you appreciated them and Seonghwa in integrating you into their friend group with ease.

You go and sit down at your desk and press answer, but didn't turn your camera on. You see Woo and San. They seemed to be outside somewhere, snacking on something. Both smiled.

"Ah, turn on your camera. We haven't seen or heard from you all week." Woo pouted. You really didn't want them to see how haggard you look, but you've come to learn you couldn't say no to him.

"Fine." You say, dragging out the word. You tap the button and see you are now on camera. Bother either could speak you sigh, "I know, I look like a mess. I just got home ten minutes ago."

"Weren't you supposed to get off an hour ago?" San's brows scrunch in concern.

"You look really tired, (Y/N). Are you taking care of yourself?" Woo's voice was gentle. "Have you eaten yet?"

"It's...been a hard week." You bite your bottom lip, feeling tears sting your eyes. "Just a lot of school work and then bullshit from customers. I'm just happy its the weekend tomorrow for me."

"Do you want to cancel the language catch-up lessons?" You felt your heart drop at Sannie's question. "Practice ended a few minutes ago, we just wanted a moment on the roof the relax. After we are done up here we are going back to the dorms soon, we can let the others know for you if that's the case."

"I'm sorry guys. I completely forgot." You couldn't help prevent the tears from finally spilling over.

"No, (Y/N), don't cry." Woo coos. You hastily wipe the tears and make sure to take steady, deep breaths.

"Don't worry about today, yeah? It's okay, we understand." San's kindness and his smile made you feel a little better. "The others will understand."

"Thank you both." You shakily say with a wet smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry-"

"Don't apologize for that." Wooyoung tsk'd. "I wish we were there, I would be giving you a big hug right now."

"Me too, (Y/N)." Sannie spoke, his tone and face exuding sweetness.

"I wish you all were here too."

"Now go eat something. We'll let the others know about tonight." The younger male smiled.

"And we won't tell everyone the details either. Just that it was a tiring week for you." San assures. "Take care of yourself, (Y/N), and remember all of us are here for you."

"You both take care too. Thank you again."

They both smile and wave. The call ended and you let out a soft sigh, feeling a little better. You sit at your desk a little longer just to further decompress from the day. You were mindlessly scrolling on social media for a bit, letting your brain shut off.

---

Wooyoung and San returned to the dance studio a few minutes after their call with you ended. When they walked through the door they saw the others lounging around on the ground, some looking at their phones while others chatted.

"Woo and Sannie are back!" Mingi grinned and got up from the floor. "Now we can head home and talk to (Y/N)."

The two glanced at each other and then back at the others, who were getting up and grabbing their things to leave.

"We actually talked to (Y/N) while we were up on the roof." Wooyoung started. Seonghwa perked up when he heard they spoke with you. He and the others haven't heard much from you this week, which had them a bit worried.

"Is she alright?" The eldest couldn't help but ask, stepping closer to them. Everyone else looked at each other with knowing looks at his concern.

"She can't do the usual language lessons today. She told us she hasn't had a good week so we suggested she just rest tonight." San said. Everyone pulled out their phones and sent various supportive messages to the group chat you were in.

"That's too bad. I hope she is fine." Hongjoong crooned.

"She will be. Like we said, it was just a rough week." Woo nodded, his lips quirked up in a smile. "She needs rest."

"Let's get back to the dorms then." Hongjoong clapped his hands together.

Everyone let out several spunds of acknowledgment and started making their way out of the dance room to the garage to go home. Seonghwa lingered a bit, still looking at his phone before following the others at the back of the group. Wooyoung decided to move to the back with him to walk along side him.

"Are you messaging her?" The younger male asked.

"Yeah, she and I are going to video call and play Animal Crossing when we get back to the dorm and after she eats dinner." Seonghwa hummed, typing a few more things before putting his phone in his pocket.

"You care for her, don't you, hyung?" Woo's voice got lower so the others couldn't hear them.

"I do." Hwa smiled sincerely.

"Do you like her?"

"Of course I do. She's been nothing but a good friend."

"No, I mean as in you have a crush on her." Seonghwa looked to the younger males face, trying to discern if he was teasing him but saw nothing of the sort.

"No, I don't, Woo." The older male said softly. Wooyoung eyed him, but decided not to speak further on the matter. He could recognize Hwa was telling some truth, but he also could tell his friend wasn't completely aware of his budding feelings.

Wooyoung wasn't stupid and neither were the others.

Everyone else began picking up small things that gave it away. Seonghwa has gotten very happywhenever you two texted or video called. Whenever they took breaks during rehearsal, he'd immediately check his phone for any messages. He'd often laugh and tell the others a funny story you told him about your day before you told any of the others. Overall, he just seemed very happy.

And they were happy for him.

The boys were obviously wary at first and had expressed this to Seonghwa. He assured them that you've been nothing but genuine to him. And after them getting to know you on their own they came to that same conclusion. They just hoped Hwa could come to terms with his underlying crush and Woo hoped you could as well.

Only Wooyoung knew you had feelings for his oldest hyung and he hoped the two of you wouldn't drive him crazy.

---

The second Seonghwa walked through the door to his dorm, he immediately rushed into his room to wash up. He grabbed some comfier clothes and walked back into the shared space were Mingi and San were.

"I'll shower first." He smiled to them and didn't wait for an answer as he went into the bathroom. Mingi and San looked at each other before smiling while shaking their heads.

Seonghwa took the quickest shower he has ever taken. He felt less sweaty, clean, and relaxed from practice. He rentered his room and booted up his switch before he unlocked his phone. He sent a quick text telling you to call him when you were ready then got his phone set up for the video call. He did some fishing and bug catching as he waited.

When he heard the ringtone he quickly answered it.

You seemed to be lying on your stomach with your phone propped up at an angle, your switch in your hands. Seonghwa could see exhaustion clear on your face and he could see some puffiness to your eyes. Concern immediately filled his being.

"Hello, (Y/N). I'm sorry the week hasn't been kind to you." He crooned.

"How much did Woo and Sannie tell you?" There was almost a hint of worry in your voice.

"Only that it was a tiring week and you needed some rest." He gently smiled. "If... you want to talk about it, I am here for you. Only if you want to of course, don't feel like you have to share."

"It wasn't anything major. I've just been assigned a lot of homework, finals are next week, and customers have been a nightmare to deal with." You exhale. "I think today, though, stole the show with rude customers."

"What happened?"

"A lady tossed a book at me because we wouldn't accept it as a return and then some teens made me stay an hour late after closing because they wanted to hide in the store over night." You snort at the absurdity of it.

"I am so sorry its been hard for you. At least your weekend starts now."

"At least I get to play Animal Crossing with you. My mind hasn't been able to relax yet- Oh! And there is a meteor shower happening on my island!" Your face lit up and Seonghwa attempted to ignore the flutter in his chest. "Let me open up the airport for you so you can get some wishes too."

Seonghwa quickly had his avatar fly over to your island.

"Enough about me. How have you been, Hwa?" You lead him to a good vantage point on your island to wish on stars.

"The week has been good. We are practicing a lot for the various performances coming up and we've all been working hard. Mingi almost started a fire in the kitchen." He smiled when he heard you chuckle at that. "I'm glad to see you again, (Y/N)."

"I'm glad too. Sorry for being inactive-"

"You don't have to apologize for that. Life gets busy, we all understand. I just hope things in your life get less stressful for you."

"I'm already feeling better talking and playing Animal Crossing with you, Hwa."

"Good."

"Anything else happen this week? I know you can't say specifics but any antics with the guys?"

Seonghwa smiled as he focused on making his avatar make wishes. "Well, Jongho's been progressing nicely with his vocal training and practice. You didn't hear this from me, but he's been wanting to do a video call with you to show you that. Wooyoung and I did a home-cooked dinner for everyone on Wednesday this week. We all wished you could have joined for that. Hongjoong, Mingi, Wooyoung, and Yeosang engaged in a brief prank war from Monday to Tuesday. I had to put an end to it when the rest of us became collateral. And then Yuhno and San put together everyone in teams for a small free style dance battle..."

He was about to continue on but when he glanced back up at his phone, he saw that you had fallen asleep. His features soften at how adorable you looked, one arm supporting your head while the other outstretched with your Switch still in your loose grasp. He could faintly hear soft snores from your parted lips.

Seonghwa felt a tightness in his chest. He could feel his face and ears flushing with warmth. These are things that he has experienced lately when talking with you. His mind suddenly went back to Wooyoung's earlier question, making his eyes widen.

Oh.

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