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velvetvisionsaurora · 3 days ago

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Pairing: Hongjoong x reader, Seonghwa x reader, Yunho x reader, Mingi x reader, Wooyoung x reader.

Summary: Five eight-year-old boys aboard the slave ship Crimson Serpent form an unbreakable bond with five-year-old y/n. before she's sold at auction. Despite their failed rescue attempt, they swear a blood oath on her teddy bear to find her. Fifteen years later, now feared pirates leading the ATEEZ

Warnings: Slavery/Human Trafficking, Separation/Loss, Violence, Eventual Smut. SA(not by any main characters) y/n gets switched to a real name but it has a purpose., blood, injury. More warnings to be updated.

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‼️if you have read chapter 7 already please go back and make sure you have read the reunion part with Ella/Yeosang! It’s after the flash back scene! Something happened with posting and it got removed‼️

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Masterlist

Chapter 9

Breaking Walls

The first cannon shot shattered the morning stillness. Seconds later came the distinctive crack of a ball striking water near the ATEEZ's port side. A warning shot rather than a direct assault, meant to force compliance instead of inflicting damage—yet unmistakably hostile.

Ella stood frozen by her cabin's small porthole, knuckles white against the wooden frame as she strained to glimpse the approaching vessel. Through the limited opening, she could see little more than water and occasional flashes of movement as crew members raced across the deck above. The sounds told a clearer story—Seonghwa's precise commands carrying easily through the wooden bulkheads, followed by the coordinated responses of crew implementing well-rehearsed protocols.

Most unsettling was the transformation in tone that swept through the ship—the comfortable camaraderie of breakfast giving way to professional precision that forcefully reminded her of the ATEEZ's true nature. These men who had shown her consistent kindness were simultaneously the feared Compass Crew, whose efficiency against slave traders had become maritime legend.

A second boom echoed across the water, closer this time though still clearly a warning. The distinctive creak of gun ports opening followed immediately—Mingi's clever mechanisms deploying the concealed weaponry she had examined days earlier. The transition from merchant appearance to combat-ready vessel happened with a speed that spoke of countless previous engagements.

"Southern Trade Company vessel Meridian requests immediate compliance with inspection protocols," a voice bellowed across the water, amplified by speaking trumpet yet barely audible through Ella's closed door. "Heave to and prepare for boarding by authorized personnel."

The Meridian—Blackwell's personal flagship. Not merely a patrol vessel or standard escort, but his primary command ship typically reserved for high-value operations or personal travel. Its presence here, intercepting the ATEEZ in open water rather than protected harbor, suggested deliberate hunting rather than coincidental encounter.

"Curious timing," came Hongjoong's voice from above, pitched to carry across water. "Southern Trade Company suddenly developing interest in merchant vessels beyond established patrol routes."

His tone carried a carefully calibrated blend of casual observation and subtle warning—neither immediate aggression nor submissive compliance. Through years of navigating dangerous social contexts, Ella recognized the tactical approach: creating space for negotiation while simultaneously preparing for combat, revealing nothing of true intention while assessing the opponent's commitment.

"Your vessel matches description of pirate ship responsible for recent attacks against Southern Trade Company property," the Meridian's officer responded, formal terminology barely disguising accusatory intent. "Inspection required under maritime security protocols established by Regional Naval Authority."

The pretense of legitimate authority—using official terminology to disguise private vengeance—revealed Blackwell's typical methodology. Like his approach to slave trading, which disguised human trafficking beneath bureaucratic language of "labor acquisition" and "personnel management," this naval interception employed official-sounding justification for what amounted to personal vendetta.

"Our manifest and flag indicate legitimate commercial operation," Hongjoong countered, maintaining the performance despite obvious preparation for combat. "We carry no contraband requiring inspection. Your authority extends only to vessels demonstrably engaged in illicit activities."

The exchange continued in this manner—formal language disguising hostile intent, each side maintaining pretense of legitimate interaction while preparing for imminent violence. Through her limited vantage point, Ella could see only a fragment of the approaching vessel—naval design modified for commercial operation, its weathered hull suggesting extensive service despite relatively recent commissioning.

Most concerning was the visible naval cannon positioned on its foredeck—official armament that private vessels couldn't legally carry without special dispensation. The Southern Trade Company's influence with corrupt officials had clearly secured military-grade weaponry that exceeded standard merchant protection, creating combat advantage beyond typical pirate engagement.

The muffled sounds of preparation continued throughout the ATEEZ—feet moving with practiced efficiency, weapons being distributed according to established protocol, defensive positions being secured against potential boarding attempt. Unlike chaotic activity that might characterize less disciplined vessels, these movements flowed with coordinated purpose that reflected years of increasingly dangerous operations.

A sharp knock at her cabin door startled Ella from her observations. Before she could respond, the door opened to reveal a crew member she recognized from the galley—one of Wooyoung's assistants, now armed with short sword and grim expression that transformed his usually cheerful demeanor.

"Captain's orders," he stated without preamble. "All non-combat personnel to secure below central hold. Please come immediately."

His tone left no room for argument despite being phrased as a request. The ATEEZ's transition to combat operations had clearly shifted protocols—civilian guests no longer granted the autonomy that peaceful sailing permitted.

"What's happening?" she asked as she followed him into the corridor, where other non-combat crew members moved with purpose toward designated shelter.

"Southern Trade Company vessel initiating hostile engagement," he replied, his usual casual conversation replaced by professional brevity. "Standard protection protocols being implemented while officers assess specific threat level."

The explanation, delivered in language that mimicked official naval communication, revealed how thoroughly combat readiness had transformed the ATEEZ's internal culture. Even the cook's assistant now operated with military precision, personal characteristics temporarily subsumed beneath tactical necessity.

As they reached the central hold—a heavily reinforced compartment located deep within the ship's structure—Ella noted the methodical organization already in progress. Medical supplies had been strategically positioned near the entrance, while defensive armaments were distributed to personnel with secondary combat training. Unlike the chaos she had witnessed during previous naval encounters while in captivity, the ATEEZ operated with precision that suggested extensive preparation for exactly this scenario.

"Please remain here until all-clear signal," the crew member instructed, already turning toward his assigned position. "Doctor Yeosang will coordinate medical response if necessary."

Yeosang's presence registered immediately—her childhood friend positioned near the medical supplies, directing assistants with quiet efficiency while simultaneously preparing emergency treatment area. Their eyes met briefly across the crowded space, his expression revealing nothing to casual observers while communicating volumes to her alone: concern without panic, preparation without fatalism, confidence tempered by realistic assessment.

"Water secure?" he asked a passing crew member, his focus professional despite the chaos surrounding them.

"Six barrels," came the prompt response. "Plus emergency rations per protocol."

The exchange—brief yet revealing—demonstrated the ATEEZ's careful preparation for worst-case scenarios. Unlike vessels that prepared only for victory, Hongjoong's command had clearly established protocols for all potential outcomes, including situations where the secured hold might need to sustain crew for extended period.

Above them, cannon fire erupted with sudden violence—not warning shots but genuine engagement, multiple batteries discharged in coordinated sequence. The distinctive sound of the ATEEZ's guns answered immediately, Mingi's modified weapons systems delivering precise response that shook the entire vessel with their concussive force.

The battle had begun in earnest, pretense of inspection abandoned for naked hostility. Whatever diplomatic exchange Hongjoong had attempted had clearly failed—or perhaps had merely been tactical delay while combat preparations were completed. Either way, the feared Black Ship now engaged in the type of confrontation that had built its fearsome reputation throughout the maritime world.

"Damage assessment teams ready," Yeosang called, his voice carrying authority that transcended his usual reserved demeanor. "Protocols in effect if casualties reported."

Despite never having witnessed him in this context, Ella recognized Yeosang's natural transition to emergency authority—his medical expertise creating leadership role typically absent during normal ship operations. The crew responded to his directives with immediate compliance, revealing established trust that transcended traditional hierarchy.

"First wave, port side midship," someone called from near the communication tube that connected to upper decks. "Minimal structural damage. No casualties reported."

Yeosang nodded acknowledgment, continuing his preparations without visible relief or heightened concern. His clinical focus—assessing information without emotional response—reminded Ella of their shared childhood experience treating injuries within Blackwell's household, where maintaining calm often meant difference between successful intervention and dangerous exposure.

Another series of explosions rocked the ship, closer and more violent than the previous exchange. The distinctive cracking of wooden hull plates followed immediately, suggesting direct hit rather than near miss. Voices called through the communication tubes, reporting damage locations and severity with practiced efficiency that nonetheless carried underlying urgency.

"Starboard gun deck, positions three and four," came the report. "Hull breach contained but mounting platform compromised. Two wounded, non-critical."

Within moments, injured crew members were delivered to the hold, Yeosang directing their treatment with calm precision despite the chaos surrounding them. His movements were economical yet thorough, assessing damage while simultaneously instructing assistants regarding treatment protocol. Once again, Ella found herself struck by the transformation fifteen years had created—the frightened medical apprentice from Blackwell's household now commanding emergency response with absolute authority.

The battle continued above, cannon fire punctuated by smaller weapons discharge suggesting closer engagement. Through the communication tubes came fragmentary reports—boarding attempt repelled, rigging damaged but functional, gun crews maintaining coordinated response despite increasing pressure. Throughout, Yeosang continued directing medical operations while other shelter occupants prepared for potential escalation.

Then came the report that changed everything:

"Explosive round, forward gun deck. Primary mechanism compromised. Master Gunner down, condition unknown."

Mingi.

The simple designation—"Master Gunner"—created immediate shift in the hold's atmosphere. Even those unfamiliar with officer designations recognized the significance, the quiet gunner's critical role in the ATEEZ's defensive capability. Anxious murmurs spread through the compartment, concern evident despite continued professional response.

Yeosang's reaction proved most revealing—momentary stillness that broke his fluid efficiency, expression shifting briefly before professional mask reasserted control. Though he had never indicated particular connection to the taciturn officer during their private conversation, his response suggested deeper relationship than mere crew assignment.

"Prepare primary treatment station," he instructed, voice betraying no emotion despite the obvious significance. "Full trauma protocol, category unknown pending assessment."

The matter-of-fact response, delivered without panic despite the potential severity, demonstrated Yeosang's professional commitment transcending personal concern. Yet Ella, who knew him better than anyone aboard the ATEEZ, recognized the subtle tells that indicated deeper worry—slight tension around his eyes, fractionally altered breathing pattern, minimally increased movement efficiency.

Above them, the battle's intensity appeared to diminish—cannon fire becoming sporadic rather than continuous, orders shifting from defense to damage assessment. Whether the Meridian had been repelled or simply withdrawn to safer distance remained unclear, though the gradual reduction in violent motion suggested immediate threat had passed.

"Secure from general quarters," came the announcement through communication tubes. "Damage control teams to assigned stations. Medical personnel prepare for casualties."

The directive, delivered in Seonghwa's precise tone despite obvious strain, indicated transition from active combat to recovery operations. Throughout the hold, personnel shifted accordingly—some moving toward assigned damage control positions, others preparing to receive potential wounded, the remainder securing equipment that had been displaced during violent engagement.

Yeosang moved immediately toward the hold's exit, medical bag already in hand as he prepared to assess injuries above. As he passed Ella's position, his eyes met hers briefly—silent communication flowing between them without need for words. Unlike others aboard the ATEEZ, he understood exactly what this moment represented for her: first direct exposure to the violence that had defined these men's existence for fifteen years, practical demonstration of the fearsome reputation their childhood protectors had earned.

"Stay here," he directed, the simple instruction carrying multiple meanings beyond immediate safety concern. "Until we've assessed full situation."

Before she could respond, he was gone—professional responsibility carrying him toward whatever injuries the battle had created, personal connection temporarily subordinated to medical necessity. The hold began emptying as crew members returned to regular duties, combat threat apparently neutralized despite ongoing damage control operations.

For several long minutes, Ella remained in the designated shelter, processing the implications of what had just occurred. The ATEEZ—vessel that had seemed increasingly homelike during her days aboard—had transformed within moments from peaceful sailing ship to combat vessel of legendary efficiency. The men who had shown her consistent kindness had simultaneously demonstrated tactical brilliance that had earned their fearsome reputation throughout maritime waters.

Most significantly, somewhere above her position, Mingi had been injured defending the ship from Southern Trade Company attackers—the quiet boy who had once carved tiny wooden animals for comfort now wounded while operating weapons systems he had designed to protect his found family.

The truth hit her like a wave - something deeper than calculation or strategy. For fifteen years, she'd buried the emotional reality beneath layers of survival instinct, but she couldn't deny it anymore: these weren't just potential allies or tactical advantages. They were those five boys from The Crimson Serpent - the same ones who'd tried to protect her, whose failed rescue attempt had shaped all their lives for fifteen years.

Before she even realized what she was doing, Ella was moving toward the hold's exit, pulled by something stronger than caution. The careful composure she'd maintained through fifteen years of captivity, the calculated observation she'd practiced since coming aboard the ATEEZ - all of it cracked under the weight of something more powerful than strategic thinking.

The corridor outside looked surprisingly orderly considering they'd just been in combat. Damage control teams worked efficiently, fixing what they could, while the regular crew got back to their duties wherever possible. Despite damaged woodwork and equipment knocked out of place, the ship felt like it had weathered the fight well rather than taking a beating.

She headed for the medical bay, pulled by worry for Mingi and knowing Yeosang would be there treating the wounded. As she made her way through the passageways, she heard the growing noise before she saw anything - urgent voices and hurried footsteps that told her this wasn't routine medical work but an emergency.

Turning the final corner, she encountered scene that shattered her remaining composure.

Yunho and another crew member struggled to support Mingi's unconscious form, the gunner's powerful body limp between them as they navigated toward the medical bay. Blood soaked his right side, darkening his clothing and dripping onto the corridor's wooden planking despite pressure bandage hastily applied. His face appeared alarmingly pale beneath smudges of gunpowder, eyes closed and features slack in way that suggested severe injury rather than minor wound.

Behind them followed Hongjoong, his captain's coat torn and face streaked with smoke residue, his demeanor controlled despite evident concern.

"How's he holding up?" Hongjoong called forward, his voice tight with worry.

Yunho glanced back, still supporting Mingi's weight. "Bleeding's slowed, but he hasn't stirred. Yeosang needs to see him now."

"Faster," Hongjoong ordered, though they were already moving as quickly as Mingi's condition allowed.

Seonghwa moved alongside, supporting Wooyoung whose expression revealed uncharacteristic gravity—the usual theatrical animation replaced by focused determination.

"This isn't happening," Wooyoung muttered, his voice barely audible. "Not to him. Not to Mingi."

"Save your strength," Seonghwa replied quietly. "Focus on the task at hand."

"I'll focus on whatever I damn well please," Wooyoung snapped, though he kept moving in perfect sync with the others. "He took that blast protecting my station."

Hongjoong's hand landed on Wooyoung's shoulder. "And he'll hear you blame yourself when he wakes up. For now, get him to Yeosang."

The officers' presence spoke volumes - they'd abandoned ship management during critical recovery to accompany their wounded friend. These men weren't just a crew following military hierarchy; they were family. Their concern went far beyond professional duty, revealing the deep bonds between them.

As they approached the medical bay, Yeosang appeared in the doorway. His face, prepared for clinical work, momentarily dropped its mask when he saw Mingi's condition. Only someone who knew him as well as Ella did would catch that split-second of shock before he recovered - but she saw it clearly, and it told her this was worse than he'd expected.

"Get him on the table," Yeosang ordered, his voice steady despite the momentary lapse. "Now."

"How bad?" Hongjoong asked as they maneuvered Mingi through the doorway.

Yeosang's hands were already moving, cutting away blood-soaked fabric. "Bad enough. The shrapnel tore through muscle, possibly nicked an artery." His eyes flicked up to meet Hongjoong's. "I need room to work."

"We'll stay," Wooyoung insisted, his voice breaking slightly.

"You'll get out," Yeosang countered, not unkindly but with unmistakable authority. "All of you except whoever's strongest to help hold him if he wakes. I need space."

Hongjoong nodded. "Yunho stays. The rest of us wait outside." When Wooyoung opened his mouth to protest, Hongjoong cut him off. "That's an order, Wooyoung. Let Yeosang work."

"The main table," Yeosang directed, already moving to clear necessary space. "Keep firm pressure on the wound. Prepare the laudanum and clean cloths for when I examine him."

The measured instructions—delivered with detached efficiency despite obvious personal concern—demonstrated Yeosang's professional focus overriding emotional response. As Yunho and his assistant maneuvered Mingi's unconscious form into the medical bay, the doctor's hands moved with practiced precision, cutting away blood-soaked clothing with shears to expose the wound beneath.

Ella stood frozen in the corridor, watching the five men she'd known as children rally around their wounded friend. Calculation and self-preservation warred within her as they maneuvered Mingi's unconscious form through the medical bay doorway.

Then his head rolled to the side, and she saw his face clearly for the first time since the explosion. Despite the blood and soot, there was no mistaking those features—older now, but still unmistakably the quiet boy who had protected her aboard The Crimson Serpent.

Seonghwa glanced up and spotted her, concern immediately crossing his face. "You shouldn't be here," he said, stepping between her and the treatment area. "Doctor Yeosang needs room to work without distractions."

His words barely registered as she pushed forward, drawn by something stronger than caution or reason. As they placed Mingi on the table, his arm fell limply to the side, his sleeve riding up to reveal his wrist. There, barely visible beneath the blood and grime, was the faded scar of their childhood blood oath—the five-pointed star they'd all cut into their skin the night she was taken.

Something in her face must have alarmed Seonghwa - his normally composed expression gave way to genuine concern.

"Ella," he said more firmly, placing himself in her path, "this isn't the appropriate time for—"

Suddenly Mingi's body jerked on the table, a pain-filled sound escaping his lips though his eyes remained closed. Blood began flowing more freely from his wound, dark red against the pale fabric beneath him.

"He’s dropping," Yeosang called sharply. "I need someone to hold this compress while I prepare—"

The words faded into background noise as Ella watched Mingi's face contort in pain. The quiet boy who never cried out, even when injured aboard The Crimson Serpent. The one who communicated more with gentle touches than words. The one who'd taught her to be strong in silence.

Now in pain. Possibly dying.

"PUPPY!"

The name - that childhood nickname - burst from her throat with fifteen years of bottled emotion behind it. In that single word, y/n broke through Ella's careful disguise. The frightened five-year-old and the calculating twenty-year-old survivor merged into one authentic person.

Complete silence fell over the medical bay, despite the crisis of just moments before. Seonghwa stood motionless, his usually composed face transformed by shock. Behind him, Hongjoong turned slowly from Mingi's bedside, disbelief and dawning hope battling across his features.

Wooyoung gasped audibly, his hands flying to cover his mouth as tears immediately sprang to his eyes. Yunho straightened from his position helping Yeosang, his tall frame seeming to expand with sudden emotion.

Only Yeosang continued working without visible reaction, though his movements carried a new tension. His hands never paused in treating Mingi's wound, prioritizing immediate survival above the emotional revelation happening around him.

"Y/n," Hongjoong whispered, her name carrying fifteen years of searching in its sound. Not a question but a recognition, certainty rather than doubt, completion rather than inquiry.

The acknowledgment—simple name spoken with absolute conviction—broke the momentary paralysis that had gripped the medical bay. Seonghwa moved aside without conscious decision, his quartermaster's authority temporarily forgotten as emotional reality overwhelmed tactical consideration.

Ella—now fully y/n without qualification or disguise—moved directly to Mingi's bedside, ignoring protocol or propriety in wake of emotional imperative too powerful to suppress. She reached for his limp hand, covering it with both of hers as tears flowed freely down her face.

"Don't you dare leave," she whispered fiercely, words directed toward unconscious gunner rather than stunned observers. "Not when I've finally found you again. Not when we've all found each other."

Yeosang continued working with professional focus, though his eyes briefly met hers across Mingi's prone form—acknowledgment flowing between them without need for explanation. He had known her identity since their reunion in this same medical bay, had maintained her secret until she chose to reveal it herself. Now, as that revelation transformed the atmosphere around them, he simply nodded once—approval and support compressed into minimal gesture—before returning to critical treatment.

"Puppy," she repeated softly, using the childhood nickname that had emerged instinctively in moment of crisis. "Stay with us. Please."

Behind her, she heard Wooyoung's quiet sobbing, the theatrical cook's natural emotional expression flowing without restraint. Yunho's breathing had become audibly uneven, the gentle giant's composure fracturing beneath weight of confirmation. Seonghwa remained silent, though his typical precise control had given way to visible emotion despite habitual reserve.

Hongjoong approached slowly, his movements careful yet uncertain—the captain's authority temporarily set aside for simple human vulnerability. When he reached her, his hand hovered briefly above her shoulder before settling with a gentle touch that asked permission rather than demanded it.

"We thought..." his voice roughened with emotion. "We suspected, hoped, but to know for certain..." He shook his head slightly, as if still unable to believe the reality before him. "After fifteen years of searching..."

"Treasure," he whispered finally, the private nickname slipping out after fifteen years of careful silence.

The simple word—confirmation rather than question, recognition rather than inquiry—completed circuit of acknowledgment flowing through the medical bay. Five boys who had protected a little girl aboard The Crimson Serpent had been reunited with her at last, their fifteen-year search fulfilled in moment of crisis rather than calculated revelation.

"I knew it," Wooyoung managed through tears, his voice wavering yet carrying absolute certainty. "I knew! The way you broke the honey cakes, the way you watched everything, the way you moved. I knew it was you."

"We've been searching for so long," Yunho added softly, his gentle voice thick with emotion. "Every port, every auction house, every slave market."

"Fifteen years," Seonghwa confirmed, his typical precision giving way to uncharacteristic emotional openness. "Every decision, every voyage, every mission—all directed toward finding you."

Their collective recognition—five separate confirmations flowing from individual perspective rather than group assumption—created emotional resonance beyond simple identification. This wasn't merely correct person acknowledged, but specific individual recognized by five separate observers who had known her as child and now confirmed her as adult.

"I know," y/n whispered, tears flowing freely down her face as fifteen years of necessary caution gave way to authentic expression. "I've known since Wooyoung and told me about the lost girl. I just needed...time. Certainty."

Her free hand moved unconsciously to touch her collarbone, where the wooden wolf remained secured beneath her clothing—Mingi's tiny carving preserved through fifteen years of captivity, hidden companion during darkest moments. "I needed to be sure it was truly you, not coincidence or manipulation. That Joongie, Hwa, Woo, Yuyu, and Puppy had actually found me after all this time."

The childhood nicknames—spoken openly rather than whispered in private ritual—created visible impact throughout the room. Wooyoung's tears flowed faster, his typical animation transformed into profound stillness. Yunho's breathing caught audibly, the simple sound revealing deeper emotion than dramatic gesture could convey. Seonghwa's perfect posture faltered momentarily, shoulders dropping from their habitual precision as fifteen years of methodical searching reached unexpected fulfillment.

Most revealing was Hongjoong's reaction—the captain's hand moving unconsciously to the place where Mr. Hugs had traveled for fifteen years, the hidden pocket that had carried her teddy bear through countless dangers and disappointments. In that simple gesture, the feared pirate captain revealed the boy who had promised to find her again, who had carried physical reminder of that promise through fifteen increasingly dangerous years.

Beneath their collective focus, Mingi remained unconscious, though Yeosang's methodical treatment had begun showing results—bleeding controlled, wound cleaned and dressed with professional efficiency despite the emotionally charged atmosphere surrounding him. The doctor moved with careful precision, prioritizing medical necessity above the profound revelation transforming the space around him.

"Fragments from the explosion," he reported, breaking the emotional silence with practical assessment. "The flesh is badly torn, but thank goodness the larger blood vessels weren't severed. If we can keep infection away and prevent fever, he should recover in time."

The straightforward evaluation—delivered without emotional qualification despite the moment's significance—provided necessary grounding amid overwhelming recognition. Yeosang's focus remained on immediate survival rather than profound reunion, his practical priorities transcending even this long-awaited revelation.

"He needs rest and watchful care," he continued, medical authority evident despite his youth compared to other officers. "The immediate danger has passed, but recovery requires quiet surroundings and freedom from disturbance."

The instruction, while necessary, carried unfortunate timing given the emotional significance surrounding them. Yet before disappointment could register, Yeosang added unexpected modification to his directive:

"Familiar voices may help call his spirit back to strength. A few visitors can remain, so long as they don't interfere with the treatment."

The careful wording disguised compassionate exception—medical necessity balanced with human consideration, practical requirement tempered by emotional awareness. In this subtle compromise, Yeosang revealed understanding beyond mere treatment, acknowledging significance that transcended ordinary healing practices.

"He'll hear you," Yeosang added, his tone softening slightly as he addressed y/n directly. "Even in deepest sleep, the soul recognizes those it holds dear."

The assurance, delivered with both medical authority and personal understanding, created unexpected connection between past and present—the boy who had treated her childhood injuries now tending wounded man who had once carved tiny animals for comfort. Three separate paths converging in single location against impossible odds, fifteen years of separate survival culminating in unexpected reunion.

"We should move this conversation elsewhere," Seonghwa suggested, quartermaster's practical consideration reasserting itself despite emotional context. "The ship remains in recovery operations, and Mingi requires appropriate medical environment."

The reminder—delivered with characteristic precision despite uncharacteristic emotion—brought necessary perspective to overwhelming moment. Despite profound significance of their reunion, practical responsibilities remained: a damaged ship requiring attention, a wounded officer needing treatment, a crew depending on leadership despite personal revelation.

"Seonghwa's right," Hongjoong acknowledged, captain's responsibility temporarily displacing personal emotion. "We have duties that cannot wait despite..." he paused, words momentarily failing before concluding simply, "despite everything."

The brief hesitation—unusual for man whose strategic brilliance had created maritime legend—revealed emotional impact beneath professional exterior. For fifteen years, finding y/n had represented defining mission, driving purpose beyond mere survival or profit. Now, with that mission unexpectedly fulfilled during moment of crisis, adjustment required more than simple acknowledgment.

"Go," y/n urged, surprising herself with immediate understanding of their conflicted responsibilities. "The ship needs you. The crew needs you. Mingi needs proper medical attention without audience impeding treatment."

Her quick assessment—prioritizing collective welfare above personal comfort—demonstrated maturity beyond the child they had known aboard The Crimson Serpent. This wasn't merely grown version of five-year-old they remembered, but woman whose fifteen years of captivity had created both strategic thinking and genuine compassion despite systematic attempts to eliminate both.

"We'll need to talk," Hongjoong said, the simple statement containing multitudes beneath its surface. "When ship management allows appropriate space."

"I know," she replied, matching his direct approach with equal honesty. "There's much to discuss. But practical matters come first—they always have."

The acknowledgment—recognizing priority beyond emotional significance—revealed understanding that transcended simple reunion. Unlike potential expectation that childhood connection would immediately supersede all other considerations, y/n demonstrated awareness of broader responsibilities that defined these men's existence beyond their search for her.

"I'll stay with Mingi," she continued, her hand still covering the unconscious gunner's larger one. "If Doctor Yeosang permits."

The formal designation—professional title rather than childhood nickname—acknowledged Yeosang's current role rather than merely their shared past. Unlike potential claim based solely on emotional connection, she recognized hierarchy and expertise that transcended personal history.

"You may stay," Yeosang confirmed, professional demeanor maintained despite momentary softening around his eyes. "So long as you don't hinder the healing work."

"We'll return when ship operations permit," Hongjoong assured her, reluctance evident despite his captain's responsibilities. "Seonghwa will establish security detail to ensure your safety during transition period."

As the officers prepared to leave - ship duties temporarily outweighing personal connections - Wooyoung stood rooted in place, clearly torn between duty and desire to stay. His face contorted in an almost comical struggle as he tried to compose himself, dabbing frantically at his eyes.

"I'm fine," he insisted to no one in particular, his voice cracking as he straightened his uniform with trembling hands. "Completely professional. Just got some... ship dust... in my eyes."

He took three deliberate steps toward the door before spinning back around. "But you'll be here when we get back? You won't disappear? Because I have fifteen years of stories to tell you and at least seven new spice combinations you need to taste and I've been planning a celebration feast in my head for years just in case we ever—"

"Wooyoung," Seonghwa interrupted gently, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Right. Yes. Ship duties. Professional pirating to do." He nodded vigorously, backing toward the door while keeping his eyes fixed on y/n. "But later - celebrations! Music! Fifteen years of missed birthday cakes all at once!"

"The ship is still recovering from battle damage," Seonghwa reminded him, though with more patience than usual.

"Minor details!" Wooyoung waved dismissively, even as he allowed himself to be guided toward the exit. "Nothing stops a reunion feast! I've had recipes set aside for this day since—"

"Wooyoung," Hongjoong's voice held both amusement and authority. "We'll have time for all of that."

"Promise?" The simple question directed at both the captain and y/n contained a vulnerability beneath his theatrical presentation.

Y/n felt unexpected warmth at his childlike eagerness. "I'll be here," she promised, the simple words containing commitment beyond immediate circumstance. "When you return."

The assurance created a momentary pause in their departure. For fifteen years, these men had pursued a phantom possibility without guarantee of success. Now, with confirmation beyond doubt, the transition required adjustment beyond simple recognition.

Hongjoong nodded acknowledgment, emotion visible beneath his captain's authority. Seonghwa's precise movements carried unusual softness despite his continued efficiency. Yunho's gentle features revealed both joy and lingering concern as he glanced toward Mingi's unconscious form. Wooyoung, finally allowing himself to be guided out, kept turning back to look at her, as if afraid she might vanish if he took his eyes off her completely.

As they departed to address ship responsibilities, y/n remained beside Mingi's treatment table, her hand still covering his as Yeosang continued his methodical care.

"Just us now," she whispered to Mingi's unconscious form, words meant for him alone despite Yeosang's nearby presence. "Your little shadow still following after all these years."

The childhood private name Mingi had given her aboard The Crimson Serpent, emerged naturally after fifteen years of whispered remembrance. Unlike calculated disclosure or strategic revelation, this quiet acknowledgment flowed from authentic connection that had survived despite systematic attempts to eliminate all such bonds.

As she maintained gentle contact with the wounded gunner, y/n found unexpected peace settling within her consciousness. After fifteen years of necessary vigilance, of calculated survival through strategic isolation, she had found not merely individual ally but complete connection—five separate threads rejoining single weave against impossible odds.

Beyond the medical bay, the ATEEZ continued repairs after the battle. The ship's fearsome reputation had been built on something few would have guessed - a promise made by five children fifteen years ago. The feared Black Ship and its Compass Crew hadn't started as pirates for profit, but as boys determined to find someone they'd lost.

In the medical bay, y/n sat beside Mingi, her hand still covering his as Yeosang worked. The connection between them had survived fifteen years of separation. Whatever challenges would come from this revelation, they'd face them together - the foundation had been set.

Five boys from The Crimson Serpent had finally found the girl they'd sworn to protect. Their search had ended during a crisis rather than the careful, planned moment any of them might have imagined. And y/n, after fifteen years of hiding and calculating every move, could finally be herself again instead of just surviving.

For fifteen years, they'd all been guided by the same purpose. Now they'd need to figure out what came next.

As Yeosang continued his methodical work, y/n watched Mingi's steady breathing and realized something had changed inside her. After fifteen years of constant watchfulness, she could finally let her guard down, even if just a little. She wasn't alone anymore.

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moonlitcelestial · 3 days ago

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I read this forever ago and I say 'come and get me fix on mother fucker' every once in a while while writing my fic 😂 I love your writing

Poly! Ateez Texts: Post-Concert Edition

Pairing: Poly! Ateez x Fem! Reader

Genre: Smut (no actual sex scenes) and some fluff

Synopsis: Boys got a little too crazy at their Europe tour ‘cause they knew you were in the crowd. They’re about to face the consequences. (a.k.a Whores edition).

Warnings: mxm, poor attempts at humor, lots of cursing and name calling, mentions of punishments, kinda dom!reader so as usual ⚠️MDNI⚠️ If I missed anything let me know.

A/N: I’m actually so sick of Ateez and their slutty behavior. I just had to write this 💀 I made this in like an hour lol I was that rilled up. Anyways hope you guys enjoy as always!!!

Tagging: @stay-tiny-things @jaerisdiction @bee-gremlin @gae-ping-boosay @xh01bri @nuggiesnuggetdog04 @buttercup0024 @bigarinotthelilone @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @puppyminnnie (Join my Taglist here!)

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

#ateez #ateez fic #ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #poly ateez

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yungistiny · 7 hours ago

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GAMEBOY ═ chapter one

[ J. Yunho ]

chapter one: his little ticks

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summary: yunho has no idea that his neighbor across the hall, the same one he’s had a crush on, was his arch nemesis behind a headset

warning: dom yunho, bratty/sub reader, slight orgothumophilia, masturbation, unprotected sex, spanking, choking, degradation, overstimulation, oral, more will be added

pairing: gamer yunho x gamer afab reader

genre: smut, romance, angst, drama

word count: 2.1k

chapter two coming soon

masterlist

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“You streaming tonight?”

Yunho didn’t bother to look up at Wooyoung, mouth full of ramen, slurping the noodles up loudly, the juice and seasoning spicy and hot on his tongue. He nodded his head, letting out a satisfied moan at his food. Yunho had already been streaming all night, now one of the top streamers on Twitch. It was just now past 6:00 am, his roommate Wooyoung up and early to head into work at the ER.

“Dude, at least get some sleep.” Wooyoung grabbed his bag, heading towards the front door of the apartment. “You’re starting to get dark circles under your eyes.” Yunho had been streaming for almost two days straight, getting maybe six hours of sleep in those two days and it was starting to show.

Yunho finished his noodles, chugging the rest of the redbull he had been drinking. He had a Valorant stream later with San and the bane of his existence but viewers apparently loved when Yunho bickered back and forth with Juniper. Juniper was another popular streamer that he had come across a few months ago. San, his neighbor across the hall and fellow streamer, had introduced Yunho to her.

Yunho has never seen her face, no one has except maybe San. She’s always kept her face cut out of the shot of her stream, the only thing visible being her gaming setup and her from the chest down. Which was always very distracting for Yunho but he would never let her know that.

Ever since they first streamed together, Juniper managed to get under his skin. She was such a brat. She was also the only real competition Yunho had. And she loved to remind him of it. He just knew she was gonna drive him crazy during the stream, she always does. And he would never admit how much it turned him on. How when she would taunt, Yunho would have to clench his jaw, bite his tongue to keep from saying something that would get him banned from the streaming platform.

He’s tried to get San to tell him who she is, he was just curious about the girl behind the screen that seemed to love to piss him off but San would just brush him off, “it’s not my place to tell you.” is what he would always say.

It was getting close to 6:30 am, if Yunho went to sleep now he could maybe get in about nine hours of sleep, something he really needed because he was extra cranky, more prone to snap when he was sleep deprived. He sat an alarm on his phone to wake himself up around 4:00 pm. It would give him time to get up, eat, shower and get ready for a long stream.

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San watched his roommate in amusement, they had both just woken up from a long night of streaming, sleeping half the day away. Y/N was on the phone, voice sickly sweet, so inviting and flirty as she asked Yunho if he wanted to come over and help them eat the Chinese food they ordered, lying that they ordered too much when in reality, y/n purposely ordered all his favorites.

“You know he’s eventually going to find out.” San once again reminded her. It was only a matter of time before Yunho discovered she was Juniper. “He already pesters me about it all the time.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, helping San display all the takeout containers on the small kitchen table they had. She liked Yunho from the moment San introduced them. Yunho was tall. He was big. His voice had a way of making her weak, especially when it would drop an octave deeper than it already was when Yunho would get annoyed, when she would manage to piss him off.

He was also funny, sweet and always made sure to get y/n her favorite coffee order when he went out to get his own. She would be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t been falling for him. She knew it. San certainly knew and loved to tease her about it. There was only one problem.

Yunho couldn’t stand her other persona. The streamer version of herself. The brat she was deep down. It put a delay in y/n making an actual move on him. How could she try and date him when he despised that side of her? “I’ll tell him.” Lie. She was so lying. “Eventually.”

San clearly didn’t believe her as a knock came from their front door. “You might want to shut that.” He pointed towards y/n open bedroom door that gave a perfect view of her gaming setup. One look inside and it wouldn’t take long for Yunho to put two and two together. “Shit!” She ran across the room to slam it shut just as San let Yunho inside.

Yunho arched a brow at y/n who stood in front of her bedroom door, face flushed, hand on the doorknob. He’s never been in her room, never seen even the slightest glimpse, but he wanted to. Yunho was down so bad for his neighbor it was a bit pathetic. Well, Wooyoung’s words, not his.

Y/N could ask Yunho to do her laundry and he’d do it. Has done it. Offered once when he had to do his own. Might of lingered his hands on a pair of her lacy black panties a little too long when he was folding her freshly clean clothes back into her basket. Wooyoung called him a pervert before laughing at his flushed face after walking in on him.

He’s tried asking her out on multiple occasions but always got too nervous. Too scared. Y/N was way out of his league. He knew that the moment San introduced them. It was a couple of years ago at their shared friend Seonghwa’s birthday party.

Yunho could still remember what she was wearing. The little red dress had him tongue tied. Choking on his own words. He even memorized her scent, the smell of her perfume. It’s his favorite smell now. Jasmine and vanilla. His crush only seemed to get worse over the years, especially after y/n moved in with San. Having her across the hall was like dangerous temptation.

Y/N smiled at Yunho, ignoring how good he looked in his baggy gray sweatpants. His dyed sandy brown hair was damp, the roots much darker, freshly washed from the shower. His favorite brown hoodie was on, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He left his shoes across the hall in his own apartment, feet warm in a pair of Spiderman socks.

“Hope you’re hungry.” Y/N brushed past him, his scent lingering. Cedar and juniper berries. She could have fucking moaned. The three of them all filled themselves a plate full, squishing together on the couch and eating while watching some kdrama San had been into lately, y/n paying no attention whatsoever. She was too distracted by Yunho’s hands.

Fuck! His hands. They were so big. Both her own could be held in one of his own. She knows this because it happened once. Yunho was helping her repaint the kitchen a few weeks after she had first moved in, y/n had stumbled, almost crashed to the floor after tripping over an empty paint bucket, but Yunho caught her. Both her hands snatched into one of his own, pulling her against his chest….

“Y/N, are you listening?” San’s voice snapped her out of her daze, her best friend shaking his head, trying hard not to laugh because she had been caught. Her eyes had been locked on Yunho’s hands for like the last ten minutes. Yunho himself was the first one to notice she was no longer joining in their small talk while eating. And surely he was mistaken?

Because Y/N was certainly not staring at him like that? Right? Like the way he knows he stares at her when she’s not looking. Of course she wasn’t. But…. If she was…. Yunho felt his heart start racing and he was suddenly thankful San changed the subject. “We should hurry up, it’s after 6:30, stream starts at 7:30.”

“Yeah,” Yunho groaned, leaning back against the couch, closing his eyes with a sigh. “She’s gonna drive me crazy tonight.” Neither San or y/n needed to ask who she was. The she in question was right there, sat snugly in between San and Yunho, though Yunho of course was unaware of that fact.

Y/N frowned. Maybe she took her taunting and teasing a little far? Instead of riling Yunho up, she ended up just making him hate her, well, Juniper. He had no idea. Y/N was careful not letting anyone know her identity, there was weirdos online and she never liked having her face in the spotlight. She even had a setting on her mic that helped disguise her voice, only slightly, making it more heavy, much more sultry. Not that much different than her own voice when she was…. turned on. Horny.

Her voice when she’d imagine Yunho splitting her open, taking out that pent up frustration from gaming on her, not aggressively just…. fuck her until she was a shaking, incoherent mess. Everything she would imagine while desperately fucking herself with her own too small fingers or a vibrator. Because Yunho was so damn hot when he was mad. The way he’d shake his head, clench his jaw, bite his bottom lip. The way he’d smirk, laughing unamused. He would always try so hard not to snap and those little ticks would only make y/n want to piss him off more.

She wanted him to fucking ruin her but, he wouldn’t. Not Yunho. He proved that every time he’d brush her snide remarks and bratty attitude while streaming off. His little ticks the closest she’s ever gonna get to seeing him snapping. Yunho just wasn’t the yelling, cursing, bending you over his lap and spanking you type. At least, y/n didn’t think so. “You know, sometimes I feel like you’re over exaggerating about this girl.”

Yunho scoffed at y/n teasing words. “No I’m not. It’s like she makes it her mission every time to piss me off.” And it was starting to get harder and harder to not snap, to not shut her up. Too hard to not tell her how bad he wanted to gag her mouth so she couldn’t say another word. Have her choking on his fingers while he bent her over his lap and… Yunho shook his head. That was a problem. He liked y/n. Really, really liked y/n. But he also knew, deep down, he also liked Juniper, the faceless gamer girl that was driving him crazy.

San was giving a pointed look at y/n, Yunho really had no idea. He was starting to feel bad. San knew Yunho had a crush on y/n, it was almost painfully obvious. It was so painfully obvious, Yunho’s ex girlfriend dumped him for it. Given, Yunho and his ex were already on the verge of a breakup before he had met y/n, but San’s best friend certainly was the final nail in the coffin for the relationship. That was a year ago.

“Maybe she thinks you’re hot when you’re mad.” Y/N shrugged, playing it off as a joke but Yunho froze. Her words like a slap to the face. Because what if she was right? What if that’s why Juniper was always so hell bent on pissing him off? There’s no way…. right? “I should go get ready.” Yunho helped San and y/n put the leftovers away, tossing the paper plates and takeout containers in the trash.

“I’m sure you two will be streaming all night.” Y/N followed him to the door, pouting. “Now I’m stuck to scroll Netflix by myself.” She leaned in the doorframe as Yunho walked across the hall, opening his own door. “I don’t have a stream Wednesday, Yellowjackets?”

Y/N bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. Yellowjackets was a new series they started watching together. They had finished the first season a couple of weeks ago but hadn’t had the time to start the second season just yet. “Yellowjackets and soju it is.”

Yunho chewed at the inside of his cheek, poking it with his tongue to keep himself from smiling too enthusiastically. His gaze lingered for a second, maybe a second too long, on y/n exposed legs in the short black pajama shorts she had on. He waited until she cleared her throat, told him goodnight and closed her apartment door before going inside his own.

“Maybe she thinks you’re hot when you’re mad.”

Yunho had two days before Wednesday and for the time being, he wanted to test y/n words out.

He wanted to see if he could turn the tables.

He wanted to make Juniper frustrated and a riled up mess tonight instead.

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permanent tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @dejatiny @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @maddycline @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world

#yunho #jeong yunho #yunho smut #yunho x y/n #yunho x reader #ateez #ateez fic #ateez fanfic

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bananayuyu · 1 day ago

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just friends (4) - first bloom

pairing: san x f reader

genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff

word count: 10.5k

summary: could you really call this a friendship anymore? what was it really, when you spent nights curled up in the sheets with him, days fighting till your blood ran cold? this was more than anything you'd had with anyone; but what it was, you didn't know. you'd fight to keep it alive, for it held you together; but how much more of this could San take before he breaks?

warnings: MDNI, smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex

a/n: I hope y'all are enjoying, pls lmk your thoughts if you have any <3

<- previous part | next part -> | series masterlist | read it on ao3

10 Months Ago

It was shocking how easily the routine fell into place.

It was Friday and Saturday nights that you saw him; occasionally a Sunday, but rarely at first. You had tried your best to maintain your desire; no nights slept over, no goodbye kisses, no confessions of feelings or desires for more. You'd barely needed to discuss your sexual preferences; he seemed to know exactly what you wanted, knew just how to make you come undone in every possible way. And the knowledge of his obvious experience made your head spin; you couldn't decide if you found it unbelievably hot, or if the jealous streak inside of you couldn't bare it. You didn't really know where that experience came from; all you knew was that he had come here from Korea for college, and had been here ever since. Were there girls all the way back from high school that had taught him all this? Was there a perfect little Korean beauty walking the streets of Seoul who he wished was somehow here with him?

Your first love, that's who he made you think of, and it almost made you laugh, for they looked so unalike it was comical. But the feelings were all the same, the comfortability, the way he read your body so easily, and it made your heart sing much more than it should have given that he still was, as you'd wanted, just your friend. You couldn't stop imagining him in high school, how adorable he must have looked in his school uniform, how darling those dimples would have been on a young, small face. He was far too sweet for his giant frame and sharp features; it was almost embarrassing how he kept meeting you down in his lobby even after you knew your way around and could have easily come up yourself, or how he'd put a hand on your back when you exited the elevator and hold his other arm out straight against the door, just on the off chance that it might unpredictably close on you.

It was beginning to feel so light, so airy; it had been scary at first, the weeks sliding by as you waited and waited for him to ask you to be his girlfriend. But it never happened; he'd kept his word, and when it came up randomly in conversation he never wavered from his answer, always telling you he was totally fine with the agreement you had in place. It always felt too good to be true, but then again, he just did in general. You'd never expected a guy who looked like him would like you, much less meet you down in his lobby in front of anyone who may be there, introduce you to the sweet old lady who lived a door down the hall, or sing your praises to all who asked about you, even when you weren't there to hear it.

Above all, you'd never expected a man who looked like him to be so damn good in bed. Men like him didn't have to try; they had the world handed to them on a platter, could get away with the bare minimum. They didn't have to care about their partner's needs, about their partner's feelings, anyone's feelings, and yet he did, more than even you did, sometimes. Your sex was like the rest of your relationship; you getting everything you could ever want, and San feeling satisfied with whatever you threw his way.

It didn't seem so backwards, so unbalanced, then. He was loving it just as much as you were, this casual thing; work had been a pain in the ass lately, and he had been trying for months to transition to a different company, one that was smaller and run by a man he'd known for years. He actually trusted than man, unlike his current boss, and with all the waiting he'd been forced to endure, his massive backlog of patience and positivity was wearing thin. It looked like just another month of frustration and he'd be out of there, able to start fresh at the new company. But as he continued to endure those trying weeks, putting on a fake smile at work and pretending he wasn't about to leave without notice, he found the knowledge that he'd be seeing you on Friday a guiding star in it all.

Get to Friday, and I can fuck her brains out. That was the thought he had more often than he'd like to admit; he was feeling strung out, at the gym more than ever, needing any bit of release he could find. The relief he felt with you was unlike anything he could have dreamed of; from the moment he saw you up on that stage he was mesmerized, so jealous and in awe of your talent, his neglected artistic side jumping at the chance to talk to you when you'd made your way over with the table's drinks. As much as you couldn't believe his interest, he couldn't believe yours ten-fold; he'd spent his time in the States since freshman year of college knowing that a certain type of person wanted him, and would do just about anything to make him know. He'd been told countless times, that girl over there wants you, my friend wants to know if you like boys, that TA was totally making eyes at you. If he caught sight of these people in school or at parties they never looked remarkable to him; they were always beautiful, obviously confident, but there was rarely anything that really piqued his interest. He'd tried dating a few of them, because he'd wanted love; in the end it had always felt empty and unsatisfying, and at a certain point he'd given up the notion that he'd ever meet someone like that one girl he once knew.

It was in his theater classes, when girls were far more artistically intelligent than him, that he felt his whole body affected. It was people like you, people deep in the desire for true artistic expression, that really got him. Those girls never liked him back, though, never gave him a chance; they wrote him off as too pretty, as obviously in over his head. And they'd been right; he'd changed his major, done exactly what his dad did, what his brother did, what everyone had expected. His parents had rejoiced and so had his future bank account, but some little part of his ego was hurt by the fact that no one in those freshman year theater classes took him seriously or ever asked for his opinion. You were the first to engage him in conversations about musicals; at that party the two of you were lost in each other, stuttering and stumbling over words because you were speaking so fast. You took the time to talk to him and actually listen, you seemed to genuinely care to hear this thoughts and know his opinions.

Maybe being in the States had been a bit lonely; he was used to it, had always been comfortable moving about the world on his own, and liked his independence too much to ever want a massive group of friends or chaos they often came with. He liked his routines; the gym, eating right, and maybe a drink or two on the weekends to wind down and enjoy himself. He played games with his brother online when they could; he still called and talked to Antin a lot, texted with him almost daily, keeping up even though they now lived states apart. He talked to his Mom every weekend; she usually put his Dad on the phone too, and he always asked for updates about work. It was through his Dad that he knew the man he wanted to work for; it felt a little wrong that he knew he'd be getting this position because of the connection, but that was just how things worked in his world. He was thankful for his job, even if it had been a predictable choice; he was paid well, found the work reasonably interesting, and even at this huge company he wanted to leave he had found the beginnings of friendship with two of his coworkers, two that would be trying to jump ship to his new company just after he did.

It was you, though, that made his choice to stay in this city suddenly seem worth it. He'd loved this place when his family had lived here for a year in his youth; he'd been twelve, and totally dazed by the dry, flat desert, amazed by the volcanoes just outside of the city that he hiked with his Mom. The landscape was all at once rough and peaceful; just to the north were the hot springs, and around those many little spas and hotels had cropped up, offering a range of tiny to extremely expensive rooms one could stay in. The mountains to the East were steep and dry too, until one hiked about halfway up; then the forest would envelop you, countless species of birds and squirrels and bugs busy as they rushed about their little lives, calling to each other, ignoring any human who passed.

The city wasn't ludicrously huge, which he liked; the area around wasn't overly developed, wasn't so horrendously packed with people as Seoul had been, and the deep breaths he could get on the mountains or at the springs were breaths of space, of solitude, of true relaxation. There'd been no question in his mind all of high school that he'd go here for college; he knew leaving behind his whole family would be tough, and knew that despite how good his English was, he'd be stepping into a social world he knew nothing about. But it had always been worth it to him, even if it was trying at times; worth it all the more when you stepped into his life, when he finally discovered just how much theater and live entertainment this city had to offer, when he finally felt seen and understood and just simply enamored by this girl he'd stumbled upon so by chance.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" you'd said one Saturday, the two of you half naked and sweaty from all that had just transpired, your shoes still on. It felt wrong having them here on his living room carpet; you held your legs up awkwardly to avoid touching it.

"Of course," he replied with a chuckle, coming to grab them from your feet and put them away in his front closet, after stuffing himself back into his pants and throwing off his unbuttoned and creased shirt.

"Your friend Antin, I know you said he does drag, is he gay?" you asked.

"Yeah, he is," he answered, walking back to you on the couch. "Why do you ask?"

"I just was curious, I don't know much about Ukrainian culture or even drag culture, to be honest, but what I do know from working at the bar, it's not very common for a straight man to do drag. Though it does happen," you said. "Was he like, open with you about it right away? Or did it take him a while to come out to you?"

"He was open right away, Antin's that way. He doesn't hide that part of himself," he answered, sitting against the arm of the couch and stretching out his legs in your direction.

"Did you feel any type of way about it when he told you?" you asked, and he cocked his head to the side a bit, a look of confusion on his face. "Like did it shock you, did you feel in any way negative about it?"

"Not negative, no," he answered quickly, shaking his head. "It did surprise me, because I'd never known any gay person in my life before. Well, I knew there were gay people out there, but I'd never met someone who openly admitted it. There were these two girls at my high school that we all knew were dating, but they tried to hide it and..." he pulled his hands behind his head and sighed. "One time one of the boys told the head teacher for our grade that they were together, and then they denied it and started never sitting by each other anymore, and never walking together. It was such a stark change that we all wondered if we were reading the situation wrong."

"Oh shit, that's really sad," you said.

"Yeah, that boy was basically our school bully, he just did that to cause a problem that day," he said, and you frowned, silence hanging in the air a moment.

"I- I asked that earlier about Antin cause the first person I ever dated was a girl," you said, eyes snapping to San's, not sure why this was the moment you felt such a need to say it.

"Oh, really?" he asked back, his eyes a bit wide.

"Yeah. I just wanted to say something, in case it was something you had a problem with, I know I should have said that a long time ago given how important it is to me that you're accepting..." Your eyes left his as you trailed off, feeling momentarily self conscious.

"What was her name?" San asked with a small smile on his face, and your eyes moved to his face again.

"No, I don't want to tell you that," you said, your cheeks heating in embarrassment and tension.

"Why, did it end badly?" he asked, looking fondly at you.

"No, it ended cause she was going to college across the country and we just, couldn't fathom doing long distance," you said.

"That's exactly why my high school relationship ended too," he said, eyes wide in thought.

"Really?" you asked.

"Yeah, because I was coming here for college, she ended things with me," he answered, and there it was, confirmation that what you suspected was true. You looked across at him, his sharp jaw and glasses, and something hot and fiery shot through your gut, a need to know, a need to somehow claim your territory.

"What was her name?" you ventured.

"It's pronounced Gae-hwa," he said, surprising you.

"Pretty," you almost whispered, and it suddenly felt hard to take a breath.

"It means like flowering or blooming in Korean," he added, and your stomach just about flipped over.

"Do you still talk to her?" you asked, swallowing hard and trying not to show how affected you were.

"Oh no, she cut off all communication with me after I left. Then about two years later she reached out, but by that time my life had changed so much and I had moved on. And I was upset that she'd waited that long to say anything. It clearly just wasn't meant to be," he said, sighing slightly.

"Do you still think of her?" you asked, voice still low.

"No, I did back then, but that last time we talked I was twenty so, it was six years ago? A lot of time has passed," he answered you.

"I forget you're old sometimes," you joked, and he laughed and rolled his eyes.

"You know, you kind of remind me of her," he said crossing his arms in front of him.

"Oh my god, shut up," you laughed, shaking your head. "How the fuck do I remind you of a what, seventeen year old Korean girl? I'm sure she was so tiny and sweet and perfect, and I'm like mildly abrasive, a hot mess, definitely not tiny-"

"She wasn't tiny, she was your size," he said, and unmistakably his eyes roamed up and down your body.

"Oh, so you like girls with a little meat on their bones then, is that what you're saying?" you giggled, waggling your eyebrows at him. Your body had always been strong because of dance and the gymnastics classes you took growing up; your shoulder muscles were probably larger than most girls would want theirs to be, and puberty had brought on more weight in all the typical areas. It was not a body type you figured was common in Korea, but then again, you didn't really know anything about the country.

"I don't like people based on their bodies," he answered you, but you saw his lips turn up just the smallest amount in the corners, and his cheeks flush ever so slightly pink.

"It's okay if you do San, I'd be flattered to know I'm your type," you laughed, your own eyes snaking over his bare torso, his shiny watch and dark blue slacks making him look professional still, even with no shirt on.

He'd always prided himself on that; that he didn't judge people on their looks, that he tried with all his might to see the person inside, not just the body or face he was feeling or kissing. But there was one other way that your body reminded him exactly of hers; he'd been utterly shocked as a teenager the first time they'd had sex, just how good it felt to be buried inside her. Her parents had gone out for the night with no clear return time stated; maybe the ecstasy of it had been heightened by that, or by the fact it was his first time, his first girl, the first person he'd ever come inside of. That's what he'd thought for all these years since; never again had a cunt felt so good, so perfect. Until he had been buried deep inside you, and his brain nearly short-circuited, and he couldn't fucking believe his mind. There that feeling was again, so perfect and intense, even better than he'd remembered it being. Were you somehow even more perfect for him? He'd been baffled those two days you'd spent together, and if he was honest, since then, being buried inside of you was all he wanted to be doing.

That night he'd been at a work dinner; only the second of this kind he'd ever been to, one with a special invite, one that didn't involve the whole company. It wasn't hosted at the office, or at a restaurant nearby; instead he was at his boss's house, the East Heights mini mansion of anyone's dreams, complete with a pool and tennis courts as every house was in the area. He'd been at the company almost three years by then and was finally up for a promotion, just as he was working to leave; the irony wasn't lost on him at all. He had passed the line into the latter half of his twenties, and with that it seemed he was finally a seen as a man, seen as worthy. He'd had to dress up in his nicest work clothes this Saturday; a suit, the most expensive that he owned, and his glasses in tow, he tried his best to put on the perfect performance. Schmoozing with his boss's wife, with the managers of the company and with the two other men up for promotions as well, he'd made it through. He'd wanted to pull his hair out the whole time, wanted to be anywhere else but that massive dining room with its terrifying chandelier. He kept imagining it falling and smashing the table and guests to pieces; he kept imagining you, kept imagining what you'd think of his face all marked up and bloody from his attempts to escape the crash.

He'd called you as soon as he left, not able to wait a moment more; he needed to see you, needed to touch you, to feel you, to wrap himself in you and forget about the whole night. He'd realized something that felt a bit devastating that night; he couldn't just leave this job the moment he wanted to now, because leaving after a promotion so suddenly would so spectacularly burn this bridge that his career would inevitably suffer. The city wasn't huge, he liked that; but that also meant that there weren't that many tech companies, and with a small community his reputation as a worker mattered. He would have to endure a few more months of this, then come up with a good excuse as to why the new company appealed to him, knowing that it would still be possible he'd see this old boss around at events and meetings. He felt like he'd been using up every reserve he had this past month; now he realized he'd be running on fumes for the months to come.

But you, that was all he needed, and he could forget it all. You hadn't answered that call; you were still at work, your phone still in your locker, and he smacked his forehead in frustration at not remembering that. The dinner had run late but it was only eleven, and he'd have to survive the next hour and a half without you by his side. He busied himself at home with tidying his place, obsessively reorganizing his linen cupboard and the shelf he kept his cups and mugs on, both of which didn't really need the treatment. He was looking for anything to do; he couldn't look at his phone, couldn't bare to see the time passing so achingly slowly. He paced his apartment for a bit; he thought about hitting the gym, but he hated the crowd that was in there this time of night. Miraculously the time passed; his phone ringing harshly from the spot on the counter he'd set it made him jump.

"Hey," he answered.

"Hey, everything okay?" you asked, the sounds of traffic and laughter wafting in behind you.

"Yeah sorry, I totally forgot you don't have your phone on you at work," he said, standing with a hip against his kitchen counter, his entire suit still on except his shoes and jacket.

"It's all good, did something come up?" you asked, walking with Sasha and Bibi as they were making their way to another bar to cap off the night.

"No, I just wanted to see you," he said, and his voice sounded almost strained coming through the phone.

"Couldn't wait?" you asked, chuckling.

"Maybe," he answered, chuckling back, already feeling his pants growing uncomfortably tight. God, you'd truly wrecked his brain, and now that sweet laugh of yours would practically make him hard on the spot. It had been agony this last hour waiting for relief, and now that the relief felt so close that agony was only growing.

"I'll be there soon, have some patience," you joked again, saying goodbye, hanging up the call. You walked with your friends until they reached the club they were destined for; you hugged them both goodbye, then turned down the street towards San's place, your dress blowing in the gentle breeze of the blooming spring. It was getting so warm now that you didn't need anything over it; and now that you regularly wore no bra or panties when you went to meet him, your dress was the only piece of clothing adorning your body, the riskyness of potentially showing more skin than intended making you feel all at once grown up and so very stupidly young.

There he was in his lobby, as always; but this time he was hanging back by the elevators, his hands clasped in front of his crotch in a way you'd never seen as he chatted with the man at the desk. It sounded like he was teaching him how to say something in Korean, but as soon as he saw you his attention was on you, his body opening up, and you made quick work of crossing the room until you were next to him in front of the elevators. When you got on you saw why he was holding his hands that way; he was obviously hard, and unfortunately for him, his size made it pretty obvious to anyone looking. You laughed when you saw it, the two of you breaking into giggles of embarrassment, trying to calm your faces when an older man got on at the third floor. You stood awkwardly apart; he was exiting to floor ten too, so you both let him walk off first, then scooted behind him quietly and didn't say a word until San had opened his door and you both were safely inside his apartment.

"Hi, how are you," you laughed as you swung your purse off your arm, expecting more laughter from him, expecting him to take it from you like he always did. But you were met with a different San that night; as soon as the door was locked behind you his lips were on yours, and he pushed you up against it roughly, holding your face and your body as close to him as he could while he all but devoured you. Your reaction was instantaneous; your body was buzzing with need for him, overwhelmed by his forward nature. You didn't fight for a second when he moved the two of you slowly towards his couch, your purse slipping off your arm onto the floor out of sight, your shoes squeaking along the newly cleaned hardwood floors. He turned you around and bent you over the plush arm, your forearms resting on the cushion as he pulled up your dress without a second thought, parting your legs a bit and diving in, licking a fat stripe up your slit and making you shiver and moan into him. He wasn't holding back for a second tonight; you'd had enough of the talk for him to know this was fine. No butt stuff, and nothing violent without telling him first, that's what you'd said. That's all that you'd said. Everything else was fair game if he wanted it; he'd never been allowed to be so in control, so spontaneous and sometimes domineering.

It was alighting something inside him, there was no question; bent to his knees he was lapping at you, your taste more intoxicating than he could explain, the soft flesh of your thighs and ass against his cheeks driving him crazier. He wanted to devour every bit of you, to get so lost in it that he forgot every reason he was stressed; you were his relief, his solace from the reality of his less than perfect work life. You couldn't have come into his life at a better time; that was not lost on him one bit as he swiped his tongue in quick circles over your clit, making you squirm and whimper at the sensation, your head buried in the soft cushion beneath your arms.

He couldn't wait that night to make you come on his tongue; he was too pent up, way to hard to be able to stand it. He stood fast and slapped a hand against your right cheek, the ripples of the smack moving through the fat on your thigh, making his mouth water. You yelped in surprise, but your breath hitched with a moan; he let out a chuckle as he desperately undid his belt, slinging it to the floor without a care, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants in record time. He lined himself up with you, not even bothering to swipe the tip through your folds and tease you; you were already soaking from his spit and your own arousal, and he sheathed himself hard and fast, another slap landing on your ass as he bottomed out. You nearly came in an instant; the combined sensations twisted together in your core and threatened to send you over the edge, San hitting your cervix repeatedly as he unloaded all his frustration from the day on you, fucking you hard and fast, just how he liked it.

It wasn't long and you were spasming around him; he landed another slap on your ass and it was over, your climax hitting you, ripping through you so fast you couldn't quite believe it. Soon San followed you, tipping over his own edge; filling you fast with his warm cum, unable to take his eyes off the image of your cunt sucking him in over and over again, his cock glistening with your slick.

It was over and done with faster than it had ever been with him; you came up for air dazed, but it was a good sort of feeling, one of wonder and awe and amazement. You felt almost like you'd been used, and it felt good, that was the weird part; you looked back over your shoulder and felt like you were seeing a different person, San rapidly unbuttoning his shirt to give him some air, his chest flushed with all the heat he'd just created. The muscles of his chest and stomach rippled in the soft light of his living room; you nearly slipped from your position as you stared at him, genuinely gawking as you took it all in. It still hadn't sunk in yet that this man liked you; he was perfectly built, too perfect to be real, and confidence buzzed through your veins as you took in the fact that someone that gorgeous had been so desperate to see you tonight. It was so intoxicating, that amazement you felt, but just like all the other early feelings soon it would be dwindling, and leaving you shocked that it somehow started to feel close to normal.

A few minutes later, once you'd admitted everything about your past and your sexuality, it felt like a wall had come down. Suddenly you'd forgotten all your rules you'd made, suddenly you wanted to stay and spend the evening with him, to tell him all about your day and week and every thought on your mind. Not that you hadn't been doing that already. But you deluded yourself that you hadn't been; leaving right after your several rounds of fucking made it more believable in your head, but now as you sat and chatted, as you finally curled your feet underneath you on his couch, you knew something was changing. The session earlier had been too short, that was the excuse you wished you could use, but even you knew that wasn't the reason you said it.

"Do you wanna watch Oklahoma?" Your conversation had gotten too serious, it was bringing up too many emotions. Especially with the mention of San's ex, you were looking for any excuse to change the subject. You had been talking about the musical with him last week, singing 'I Cain't Say No' a thousand times over, and he'd mentioned wanting to watch it. Somehow he'd never seen it, even with being so interested in musicals himself.

"Okay," he nodded, smiling softly, moving over to grab his remote and turn on his TV. It took a while to find it, with it not being on a single streaming platform; he paid for it without a second thought, your eyes going a bit wide at his lack of hesitation, sitting himself back against the arm of the couch again and beckoning you to him.

It was your first taste of this, the calm and easy nature of just laying with him, the pure joy of singing songs to him and making his face light up in admiration. Now you wished you'd done this earlier; the perfect end to the week, pure fun making your head feel heavy with relaxation, your yawns coming much sooner than they normally did. Slack against him, you nearly fell asleep; you'd never been one to fall asleep during movies, you barely even noticed it happening, not until he shifted underneath you and you opened your eyes to the strange dream sequence playing on the screen, the absurd colors and lack of dialogue making you unsure if you really were awake again.

"This is so weird," he whispered in your ear, and you chuckled softly, murmuring your agreement. It was a strange sequence, one that had totally caught you off guard the first time you watched it; you knew none of the modern musicals he'd watched contained anything similar, and it was unbelievably fun to crane your neck up to watch his face contorting in every way, his reaction to the drawn out and strange scene more enjoyable than the movie itself.

Once it finished though, you were out like a light, and as San sat and breathed in the moment, his own body desperately craving sleep, he didn't know what to do. He knew you had your little rules, could tell immediately you had made a choice not to stay over, after that crazy first two days; but you'd never said those exact words to him, never outlined any exact feelings on the subject. It had been nearly two months now of your little arrangement, and as he looked down at your peaceful face and curled up body, his own brain exhausted from his stressful night, he knew he'd have to say something.

"Baby," he murmured, nudging you in the side.

"Hmm?" you mumbled, shifting a bit in his lap and trying to roll yourself back to sleep.

"Do you want to sleep here?" he asked, kissing your forehead.

"Sleep, sleepy," you mumbled with a nod, grasping onto his arm as he tried to move the two of you.

"I know, do you want to sleep here?" he asked again, but all he got was an incomprehensible word in response; he tried to move again, but this time you gripped onto him hard, groaning in clear frustration.

"I need... sleep," you murmured, trying to rest your head on him again, shifting your legs around under you.

"Here?" he asked, trying to move his leg out from under you.

"Stop moving," you cried finally, nearly climbing on top of him, not thinking for a second what it might be feeling like for him.

"Okay, okay," he sighed, looking around him. She's a lucky girl, he thought as he used his TV remote to turn off his lights, grabbing the blanket slung over the back of his couch and wrapping it around the two of you. He shifted you both down enough for him to be comfortable, shoving the closest pillow under his head, holding you close. He could tell you were already out again, even with his movement; it was only a few more minutes and he was out himself, totally exhausted, completely wrecked, not sure what you'd say in the morning but not having the energy to care.

"You awake?"

San's voice wafted through your thoughts, the end of your dream swirling to a close, everything feeling hazy. Suddenly it hit you; you were here still, and it was either the middle of the night or the next day, your groggy mind making it hard to tell.

"What time is it?" you croaked, your throat dry. You coughed, rubbing your hands over your face, your eyes itchy and watering with the allergies that spring always brought with it. You'd missed taking your pill last night since you weren't home.

"It's 11:15," he answered you, running a hand through your hair.

"Early," you croaked and he laughed, but turned his head as you coughed again.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Just my allergies, my throat is really dry," you groaned as you pushed yourself up, brushing your bird's nest of hair off your face, sitting up against the back of the couch. Your neck ached a bit but you had a feeling that was the allergies too; before you could blink a cetirizine pill and a glass of water were in your hands and you swallowed without thinking, sighing at the relief of the water.

"Thank you," you said, smiling up at him, the water finally waking you up a bit.

"You want some coffee?" he asked.

"No, I can't drink it," you answered.

"Oh yeah, sorry I forgot. I could make you some tea? And some toast and eggs too, if you'd like?" he ventured, squatting down in front of you.

"Really?" you asked, finally opening your eyes more and getting a good look at him. He already looked put together, had probably been up for hours at this point; this morning felt different, very different from the first time you slept over here, the weeks of getting to know him turning this into something heavy and significant, memories of your conversation from last night peeking through your brain now.

"Of course," he answered, nodding. You nodded in response, a short okay leaving your lips, and immediately he was off to the kitchen, everything being prepared so meticulously, it was like he'd done it for you your whole life. Hie eggs were somehow better than the ones you prepared for yourself; you looked at him with disbelief as you ate them, his face bright with a genuine smile.

"I just added some butter to them," he said, going to the fridge to grab the brand and show you.

"Oh, you have that nice butter," you laughed, seeing the label that always called your name in the store, the one that didn't seem worth the price to you even if so many people claimed it was more than delicious. Now it seemed they all were very right, and looking at him your guts swirled with jealousy, with satisfaction, with obsession and admiration, with so many other things you couldn't name.

You pounced on him once you'd finished, not caring what your breath smelled like; you pulled him onto the couch with you, straddled him and pulled at his pants until his cock sprang free, wrapped your mouth around it and worked it up and down, making him gasp in shock and pleasure. You worked him for a second before pulling up and straddling him again, lining yourself up; this was what you were really after, and your lack of underwear and by now completely crumped dress made it all too easy. You sank down, just rocking back and forth at first; the changes in pressure felt delicious in your core, and you pushed and pulled agianst his shoulders as you started to ride him harder, using your thighs to pick up your hips and move up and down too.

"Fuck, baby," he grunted in your ear, holding onto your hips for dear life as you rode him. It'd only ever been him in control up to this point, and though you weren't exactly dominating him right now, your desperation was making you do things you might not normally, your level of comfortability with him already so through the roof that you didn't care what he'd think.

"You only made me come once last night," you huffed through your moans, his cock repeatedly hitting deeper and deeper within you, your whole body exhausted from your movements.

"Not enough for you, was it?" he chuckled, his own breath labored as he tried not to come undone before you did; he could control it well when he had the energy, energy that he was sorely lacking last night, but energy that he had now.

"Nuh-uh," you shook your head, gripping hard on his shoulders as you smashed your mouths together again; the feeling of his tongue on yours added deliciously to the deep feelings in your cunt, and soon you were spasming hard around him, breaking the kiss to breath through the feeling, your head resting slack against his shoulder as you rode it out.

"That better?" he joked, stroking a hand through your hair, rubbing his thumb over your ear and making you shiver.

"Still not enough," you pouted as you still moved your hips slowly, the ghost of your orgasm still riding through your body, the potential to build another one obviously there.

"Give yourself another then," he said, and all your thoughts stopped for a moment, your brain completely focused on what he'd just said. It had layers, and you could feel them; it was obvious that that one little conversation about you wanting him to be in control had planted a seed in his mind, and you weren't sure if he'd read up on dominant and submissive relationships or if it just came naturally, but either way, he was playing it so well.

"I have to do it? You won't give me one?" you pouted as you rolled your head to the side, looking at him.

"You do it," he shook his head, eyes wide with confidence, his face completely self assured.

"Fuck," you muttered into his chest, his command making you start to flutter around him already; it was nothing huge, nothing huge at all, but something about his gentle nature turning more domineering was too much to handle, and immediately you started riding him again, pouting and pretending you were hating every minute of this while secretly your pussy was having the time of her life.

It wasn't much of a secret for long, though; you came again, twice, burning out your thighs to the point that you knew you'd be struggling to walk up stairs the next two days, but you didn't care. Once you'd all but worn yourself out he'd taken pity on you; a reward, it seemed, he flipped you over and fucked you until your both came hard, his mouth on your neck as he did, holding you down against the cushions of the couch and not letting you move until he wanted to. You were slack, shaky as you stood; you were grateful for his help, grateful that he took you to the bathroom and undressed you, set you in his huge shower on the small bench inside, washed you with ease and his fragrant shampoo.

Calm, too calm, you felt all too perfect as he helped you dry your hair, but this was relationship stuff, this was too much; your mind began to whir, never able to give you even a ten minute break break from your constant worrying. Your anxiety was always bad this time of year; something about the rushed time between late winter and early spring always had you on edge, and you knew that, but it was just so normal to you, your anxiety by this point a close friend. She was too strong of a voice in your head back then; you gave her way too much control in making decisions, in running your life. You dressed in a hurry and checked your phone like you were expecting terrible news; your obvious shift in mood was not lost on San, but he didn't know what it was about.

"Hey, can we talk for a moment?" he said as he noticed you buried in your phone, your purse slug over your shoulder, your mind clearly elsewhere.

"I really gotta go, I'm sorry," you said, looking him over, eyes snapping back and forth between him and the missed messages you needed to get back to.

"It would just take a few minut-"

"I know I'm sorry, I just realized I totally forgot I was supposed to be somewhere...." you trailed off, the terrible excuse tasting sour as it ran over your tongue, as you made your way to his front closet and grabbed your shoes. The past few hours had felt too much like something you'd been trying to avoid; somehow it was nearly four in the afternoon, the time making you feel unreasonably unsteady.

"No worries," he said as he followed you, watching you shove your feet into your shoes, the tongue of your left sneaker obviously scrunched up uncomfortably.

"I'll text you," you said as you unlocked the door, pushing it open.

"Can I walk you home?" he blurted, making you turn your head, take in his face again.

"No." It came out so fast, so harsh, it even shocked you a bit. He looked almost offended, and immediately you were scrambling. "I'm sorry if that sounded mean, I appreciate you offering, it's very nice, I just don't need that, I walk by myself all the time and I like it, and-"

Your words hung in the air, the two of you silent.

"I don't think it's safe," he finally said, like he'd been thinking it for weeks.

"Please don't worry about me San, I have been walking by myself at night around this city for years already, nothing's ever happened, I know what I'm doing," you said, voice snappier than you realized, your body shaking.

"You-" San stopped himself, sighing.

"What?"

"Nothing, just, will you text me when you're home?" he asked.

"San," you sighed, stepping further into the hall.

"I go crazy worrying about you," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"Don't say that," you sulked, turning your face away, your heart clenching.

You felt more confused than you had so far walking home, thoughts roiling back and forth between bliss and agony, your anxiety so bad even you could recognize what it was. You needed time to think, to reason with yourself, or something, you couldn't tell; how the fuck were you supposed to process all that had just transpired, the way you'd swayed between total calm and complete panic in the hours you'd spent with him?

You questioned it your whole walk, frantically texting Tina, smacking into a street sign two separate times on your way to her place. It was a lie, but you still typed it anyway. Got home safe, you said to him. He didn't need to know you were at your friend's apartment, didn't need to know that you'd be walking yourself back home for real later, in the dead darkness of that Sunday night. You were putting a wall up, just as one had come down less than twenty hours ago; you were good at this, good at keeping space between you and others when you needed to, good at keeping your peace. That was how you justified it, though you felt a little sick on your walk home. What if something did happen to me tonight? you wondered. But even still, it didn't feel like it should be his business; you'd told him no relationship, and he'd agreed, and that was that. He'd tried his luck at pushing back against your obvious boundaries, but you were too strong with them; it was how you'd always survived, never letting people in on the secrets of your life unless you really felt they deserved it. You and San weren't there yet, and you frankly hoped you'd never be; but you also knew something had changed that night, sleeping over on his couch, his soft hands scrubbing circles in your back in the shower, your skin smelling just like him for the next several days.

Present

It was 1:30pm when you finally woke, your body stiff and aching in every possible way, your head pounding, feeling like a knife had been stabbed through you, ear to ear. You audibly groaned as you rolled over, trying to find your phone; it wasn't on your charger like it usually would be and you groaned again out of frustration. What time you were up to last night, you had no idea; editing and rewriting the one song you both felt iffy about took you on a spree of creative invention last night, and by the time you'd sent everything over to your agent and curled yourself under your sheets, your nose was running and eyes were watering. It was too early for your allergies to be here, and it all seemed so strange; it made a lot more sense as you took in your completely stuffed nose, your forehead hot to the touch, your aching limbs.

You'd caught whatever Tina and Maya had and it was finally hitting you, your fever more discomforting the more you awoke, your increased awareness only making it more clear just how awful you felt. You scrambled around your bed to find your phone but couldn't; enough sudden worry coursed through you that you managed to sit up, stumbling your way over to your desk to find it on top of your computer. As you walked back to your bed you felt your legs trying to give out from under you; your right hip suddenly started to buckle, and you caught yourself just in time, collapsing half on your bed, half on the floor.

You sighed into your comforter, crumpling it up under your head like a pillow. You had a nagging feeling at the back of your brain that you were forgetting something important, but the aching in your bones and joints was making it hard to really think at all. You sighed deeply as you sat yourself down fully, leaning sideways against your bed now; it had been so long since you'd been sick like this, you truly felt panicked at how bad it was, at how hot your face and neck felt, how high your fever must be. You steadied yourself enough to pull up your phone, now seeing the time, seeing the missed call from your twin and several unread texts that always greeted you in the morning.

"Hello?" Micah's voice was strong as she answered, but it had the muffled quality it always did when you were on speaker.

"Hey," you croaked, coughing hard, the mucus in your sinuses making it's way down your throat.

"Oh god, are you sick?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess I caught what Tina had," you sighed, sniffling in an attempt to clear your nose, your head still pounding.

"You have everything you need?" she asked, the distinct sounds of clinking dishes in the background.

"Yeah I'm fine, I've got meds somewhere. I was just returning your call from this morning," you said, running your free hand under your nose and wiping away the snot it collected.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, our call last night ended quite abruptly," she sighed, water running and muffling the last word a bit.

"I'm sorry about that," you groaned, running a hand through your hair. It snagged on a tangle towards the back of your head and you pulled it out, wincing.

"Are you okay? You don't seem very okay these days," she replied, biting back another deep sigh.

"You're always so blunt with me," you mumbled, your eyes getting teary, but Micah just chuckled.

"Do you have a boyfriend you haven't told me about?" she bit out, another dish clanking after she did so, as if to emphasize her frustration.

"No, he's not-" you cut yourself off with a sigh, rolling onto the floor into a ball. "He's not really my boyfriend, but yes I've been seeing someone," you finished, sighing again, deeply.

"So you cut off a conversation with me to talk to this guy you've been seeing?" she asked, her voice coming through more clearly now, sounding like you weren't on speaker anymore.

"I'm sorry, I'm fucking sorry, okay? Things are weird right now, they're so weird-"

"They're always weird with you," she cut you off.

"I'm sorry I'm so stressful to love," you bit back.

"No, that's not why I'm saying that-" she cut herself off this time, letting go a sharp breath out. "I fucking love you and I hate that you're all the way out there where I can't see you-" she chocked back a sob, a small whimper escaping her lips.

"Hey, wait, where is this coming from?" you asked, momentarily forgetting about the pain in your limbs and head, your twin's tears so utterly unexpected. This wasn't like her, wasn't like her at all; gears were shifting in your head, you could feel them clunking clumsily, but something more resolute was happening, something solid was starting to build itself.

"I'm sorry, it's hard with you gone. And with Dad in the state he's in. He's doing bad, I know Mom and I never tell you that but he'd doing so bad and I wish you were here instead of where you are. And I'm sorry, I know you don't want to hear that," she spewed, sniffling at the end as she caught her breath.

"I- I'm sorry," you stuttered, sighing. Your eyes were squeezed shut, every little part of you locked up in inflammation and agony. But even so you felt some lightness building inside you, like being sick was making you see life from a new perspective, as silly and pathetic as that seemed. Was this how your dad felt every day, his joints and muscles aching constantly? And how had being away made you so able to forget everything? You'd been there, seen his sickness progress all of middle and high school. You'd seen his body start to shut down, to lock up, seen the looks of agony on his face. It had only been five years away and somehow it all felt like part of the past to you; it wasn't your life anymore, you'd moved away for a reason, as shitty as that was. Of course you'd moved to pursue your dream, and you could always use that as your explanation to people without receiving an ounce of doubt; but really you'd been running away from the pain, trying to get as far away from the reminder of your potential future as you could.

If one day you couldn't dance because your body was breaking down, you weren't sure you could survive it.

"I promise you, once I'm over this sickness and I can plan it, I will come visit," you told her, voice steady even with your stuffy nose.

"How soon do you think you can come?" she sighed, but this time it sounded like relief more than anything.

"Probably late this month, or honestly, probably early March I can come. I'll try to swing it around work, I'll come on a Sunday and head back Wednesday, something like that."

"Okay, that sounds good," she said, breathing more steadily.

"I'm sorry about everything, I know I've fucked up our relationship in a lot of ways," you said suddenly, more tears coming.

"It's not all your fault," Micah sighed. "I just wish things were like they used to be, I miss it," she said, silent tears snaking their way down her cheeks.

"I know, me too," you answered. "But I keep changing so much, I don't even know who I am anymore."

"Someone who hides her boyfriend from her twin?" she asked, making you chuckle.

"He's not my boyfriend," you reminded her.

"Is he leading you on but not willing to make things official?" she asked.

"No, it's- I think I'm the one who's doing that, honestly," you answered, and suddenly a sob wracked through you, the guilt of a thousand unfair nights with him crashing down on you all at once.

"You really have changed," she sighed through the phone, just listening for a moment. "If you feel so bad, why don't you stop doing it and just date him?"

"Get out of my damn head," you bit out through your tears, making her laugh loudly.

"I can't wait to see you, I'll make you your favorite rolls when you're here," she said.

"Stop, I don't deserve that from you. I'll do whatever you want, I can bring you those gummy candies from the German bakery," you said.

"Oh, yes please," she replied, making a noise of contentment. "Thank you for calling me back, I'm sorry you're sick. Rest up, feel better, I love you and I miss you."

"I love you and I miss you too," you croaked before ending the call, coughing hard after you did, then sneezing, a gross clump of snot falling onto your arm. You stood quickly in search of a tissue but nearly collapsed again; light headed you stood against the wall, waiting what felt like an eternity for your head to stop spinning, finally able to wipe your arm and blow your nose in earnest, the pressure relieving and painful all at once. Your conversation with your twin had you feeling better, at least a little; still, something nagged at you, and as you reached into your drawer of pills and grabbed your Tylenol, you desperately tried to figure out what it was. You checked that you'd actually sent the email to your agent; you had, nothing to worry about there, and suddenly realized your bladder was about to explode, so you quickly made your way to the bathroom. The apartment was dead quiet with your roommates all at work, Tuesdays always a day of solitary rest if you wanted them to be. It seemed relatively perfect timing given how sick you were feeling, and when you wiped you felt even more thankful for their absence, as you'd just started your period too.

As if on command your cramps started; why they hadn't hit earlier, you had no idea, for you had already been bleeding and had stained your panties and sweats quite badly. You'd already taken the Tylenol, but had to wait for it to kick in; you threw your stained clothes in the sink, grabbed a pad and made for your room, pulling out one of your already stained pairs of underwear and throwing them on, pad in tow. Just as you went to reach for some new sweats you heard the sound of knocking at the front door; it didn't happen often at your place, and immediately you ran to the peep hole, taking a look.

The last thing you expected was San's sharp face, his black hair, his sad eyes. In a flash you remembered what you'd been trying to all morning; tears threatened to come again, but you ran to your room, quickly found your phone and pulled up his contact, and hit call.

"Hello?" he answered as you walked back across your living room, his voice on the phone an echo of what you were already hearing through he door. Opening it, you saw his eyes widen, his hand not leaving his ear, just like yours wasn't.

"I was supposed to call you, and I forgot," you sobbed, a messy snotty mess falling from your nose, your bare legs shivering against the cool air from the hallway. Slowly you took your phone away from your hear, ending the call; you stood staring at him, a wall of confusion and hope and longing. "I'm really sick, I don't know if you wanna be near me right now," you finally said, stepping back to allow him in, now seeing his hands were both full with bags.

"I'm not losing you," he said after setting them on your coffee table, dirty dishes littering it and the kitchen sink, the messy state of your place feeling exposing, like it represented how you lived your whole life, messy and disorderly and without much care.

"What do you mean?" you asked, standing far away form him still, your exhaustion starting to hit you again.

"Come here," he said, holding his hands out, and you tried to walk towards him even as your knees threatened to buckle, using the couch as a support.

"I'm sick," you sighed, walking right into his open arms and curling yourself into him.

"I thought you might be, I brought you some Pho," he said, squeezing you into him.

"Sannie, you're too nice," you whimpered.

"Baby, I love you. I want to bring you your favorite things," he sighed, and the words hung in the air as your breath caught in your chest, your whole being frozen.

"Yes I just said that," he said, breaking the silence. "And I know you love me too, you don't have to fucking say it," he sighed, rocking you slightly from side to side.

"I can't believe you just said that," you whispered, eyes blinking as you still tried to process those three words.

"Be my girlfriend, officially," he continued, shocking you.

"Sannie-"

"You can only call me Sannie if you're my girlfriend," he said, looking down at you sternly.

"You call me baby all the fucking time!" you responded, mouth agape with shock.

"Yeah, because you don't see that as significant, but Sannie is significant to me," he said, holding your gaze, his face not faltering.

"I- I can't believe you just came here without even telling me-"

"You promised you'd call me," he cut you off.

"I only woke up like thirty minutes ago," you sighed, shaking your head.

"Was I the first person you called?" he asked, and anger roiled up inside you, enough that you pushed him away.

"No, it was Micah, and guess what? She told me to date you for real, almost like you two are conspiring behind my back or something!" you snapped, wiping more of the disgusting snot that was again pouring from your nose, your face no doubt a sticky, flushed mess.

"If I ever meet her, I'll have to thank her," he joked, letting you stand a foot away from him, not pushing you.

"Why did you do this?" you asked suddenly, sitting roughly down on the couch, folding your legs under your and putting your face in your hands.

"It was the only way I'd be able to have this talk with you," he said, crouching down in front of your covered face.

"But I'm fucking sick, this is bad timing," you replied.

"It's never a good time with you, baby, you never want to talk," he said, stroking a hand comfortingly through your hair, his actions juxtaposed with his words. "Frankly I don't care if it's the right time for you today, it's the right time for me, and things between us never get to be on my schedule."

"That's why I wanted things to be casual," you said, sniffling hard. "I'm not built for relationships."

"You basically spent all of January in my bed," he said, sighing, pulling your hands from your face. "You are built for this, you just don't want to admit it."

With a heavy breath you finally looked up at him again, his eyes swimming with thought, face contorted in worry. It had been the strangest hour; the strangest few days, now that you thought about it, and in no way was your mind able to keep up, able to make sense of anything. San, your boyfriend. Was that really something that you wanted? That you could handle? The words sounded terrible even rattling around in just your head, and you dreaded the sound of them coming out of your mouth; your obvious distain would be impossible to hide, even to a stranger.

"Do you really want to be done with me?" he asked, your stoic, hard face staring at him far longer than he wanted it to.

"You're giving me an ultimatum?" you asked, letting him hold your hands but not holding his back.

"Yes, I am. I'm done with this being casual. I'm your boyfriend in every way except title, and I'm tired of you saying we're just friends. We're not, we've never been. You know that, you know this was love from the first fucking day we met."

You sat completely frozen, your eyes locked on his, not an ounce of wavering or unassuredness in his tone. Tears snaked their way down your cheeks but you didn't sob; it was like it was impossible to move, impossible to look away from his face.

You had no fucking clue what to say to him.

"Sannie-"

He cut you off with a shake of his head, reminding you of what he'd said earlier about the special nickname.

"Answer my question. Are you ready to be done with me?"

But you couldn't answer it, so frozen your brain was, caught somewhere between panic and relief, his words gnawing at some deep part of you that you couldn't quite sense at all.

Curled up on your bed, a musical playing on the shitty screen of your laptop, you finally said it.

"Okay," you said, sighing.

"Huh?" he asked you, turning his head to the side to look at your face.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said, voice wavering, eyes blinking. You weren't sure how you sounded; you weren't sure you were doing the right thing, saying it. But the look on San's face assuaged you; he pulled you to him, planted a kiss on your lips and then your cheek, and sighed with the deep relief you had hoped your answer would give him. It almost felt like you were giving in, and there was some relief in that; but where things were headed you had no idea, and no question your brain was scrambled eggs now that you'd caught the flu, every hour passing like it was only a minute, your life feeling less and less real as the night closed in on you.

It was being in his arms that made the answer come more easily; this, the sitting and just being, you couldn't lose it. Whether you could actually be a good girlfriend, you had no idea; it seemed that was for the future to decide.

next part ->

taglist: @pyeongstarr @hwaromi @hi00000234567 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starhwa1024

@completelyjae @midnightrebel1028 @pautiny27

<33333333333

#ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #san x reader #san smut #san x y/n #ateez x y/n #choi san smut #choi san x reader

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dvrktvnnel · 3 days ago

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whiskey lullaby- j.y.

genre — cowboy/sheriff

pairing — sheriff Yunho x reader

word count — 1.6k

warnings — blood, alcohol/drinking, classic cowboy stuff not too bad really

summary — whiskey lullaby inspired fic </3

Its been months now. You had broken up with Yunho, and he still didn’t understand why. No, he knew why. You were the best thing to ever happen to him, and he took you for granted. He’d leave for days and always expected you to be waiting for him.

You were there for him when he needed you, but he was never there when you needed him.

He downed another glass of whiskey. He’d lost count of how many he had, but he still remembered how many times he left you.

A big hand rested on his shoulder and the deep voice of his lifelong friend spoke softly, but he didn’t register a word. He just threw another bill on the table for another glass.

The bartender looked concerned, and he busied himself with another customer instead. Mingis muffled voice echoed again, but Yunho didn’t listen. He felt his friend lift him off the barstool and he blacked out.

He woke up in his bed the next morning, his boots still on. He groaned and rubbed his race, a searing headache throbbing intensely. He sat up too quickly and rushed to the bathroom to get sick.

He washed his hands and splashed water on his face before staring at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t shaved in weeks and he reeked of alcohol. He stumbled back to his room and flopped onto the bed.

His gaze fell on the broken frame that held your picture, and he couldn’t stop himself from sobbing. He cried until his throat hurt, until his nose burned. He cried so hard It felt like his lungs collapsed.

His stomach was sore from drinking himself sick then crying until he fell asleep over and over again. The days became a blur of pain. His self neglect only made him feel worse.

A knock on the front door woke him back up. His eyes were still puffy and red, his lips swollen and his nose plugged. He pushed himself to answer the door.

It was Mingi again. He didn’t say anything, the two old friends staring at each other.

“You can’t just fade away,” Mingi finally said. “You have to keep going.”

Yunho didnt respond. He’s heard this shit from everyone in town. he didn’t need to hear it again. couldn’t they see that he was nothing without you in his life?

“I’m fine,” he said.

“No, youre not. that’s why I’m taking you with me.”

“What?”

Mingi didnt give Yunho time to protest, shoving his hat into his hands and stomping down the stairs.

Yunho didnt want to follow him, but he did. Mingi already had both horses saddled and ready. He stared at the man atop his red steed, waiting for his friend to join him.

“Get on,” Mingi said.

Yunho numbly grabbed the reins and pulled himself up. He swayed for a moment, but years of riding saved him from falling off. A cowboy never forgets how to ride a horse, and the memories of teaching you how to ride flooded his mind.

Mingi kicked his foot and lead the way, Yunho’s mare following him without command.

“Even your horse knows you need this.”

Mingi smiled in hopes of cheering him up, but it was pointless. Yunho felt as if hed never smile again without you, so whats the point?

The two rode on, to where Yunho had no idea. Mingi made several jokes, tried to start a conversation, anything to get his friend to say something, but Yunho only gave him grunts and head nods. They rode through the town and past the gates. The dry desert heat was harsh, but it was nothing compared to life without you.

They rode for a few hours until the sun started to set, finally Yunho spoke up.

“Where are taking me?” he asked.

Mingi’s body rocked with the beat of his horse’s steps, keeping his narrow eyes on the invisible path in front of them. He didnt answer.

Yunho gave his horse a small kick, speeding up to stop in front of Mingi.

“It’s getting dark, where are you taking me?” he asked again.

“Away from her before you kill yourself,” Mingi answered.

Yunho furrowed his brows and shook his head. How could he do this? Didnt mingi have any idea how much he still needed you?

“No, no I cant leave her.”

He kicked his horse and rode back to the town, Mingi spinning around and gaining on him quickly. It only took half the time to get back, and once the soft glow of the town was in sight Mingi pulled in front of Yunho’s horse.

Before Yunho could protest, Mingi jumped down and pulled yunho onto the ground. He fell with a thud as dust clouded around him.

“I’m not going to watch you do this to yourself,” Mingi said stubbornly.

“Will you let me be?” Yunho said, dusting himself off.

“No! Im not going to just stand idly by while you do this to yourself!”

“It’s not your place to interfere!”

“I dont give a damn, you’re my partner, my brother. Whether you like it or not im going to keep pestering you until you get your shit together.”

Yunho didnt have the time to argue before the gunshot echoed through the air.

yn!

Yunho and Mingi jumped back on their horses, galloping towards the town. The townspeople were in a panic. A group of burly men atop sleek black horses were making a mess of the town, firing their guns and busting through the shops’ wooden doors.

Yunho frantically searched you amidst the chaos, but he couldnt see you. Maybe you were inside, and safe. He redirected his focus on the criminals, reaching for his gun. But it wasn’t there, he must have left it home.

Mingi stayed close, skillfully shooting at the riders. With each man that fell, the horse would go wild. These were wild horses, barely tamed and dangerous.

“Mingi! Get the horses out of here!” Yunho shouted over the firing shots.

Mingi nodded and fired one last time before wrangling up the wild horses. In that split second, a man already shot off his horse aimed his gun at Mingi, shooting him off his own horse.

“Mingi!” Yunho shouted, rearing his horse around.

Before he could reach him, an ear piercing scream made his blood run cold. It was you, and you were in danger.

“Go, I got Mingi!” said a voice from behind.

Hongjoong ran to Mingi with San right behind him. Yunho tipped his hat and rode towards your cry. He jumped off and busted through the door. This was his house.

A rukus upstairs told him where you were. He climbed the stairs two sometimes three steps a time. The door was hanging off its hinges, you were cornered by a man with a bloody shoulder.

“Yunho no!” you shrieked.

But it was too late, Yunho barged in and a second man hit him behind his head with his gun, knocking him out.

When he came to, he was tied up in the corner with a gag in his mouth. Everything was blurry for a minute, he could taste blood in his mouth and the sweat burned his wounds. You were unconscious next to him, he couldnt see your face but you didnt look injured.

He could see out the window, watching from above. The townspeople had retreated to vacant porches, watching with terror. The men who had been attacking were gathered and tied in the middle of the dirt road. The wild horses were rounded out of the town.

Yunho tried to avoid the bodies of his people on the ground for now. He had to get you out of here.

A sharp kick in his chest made him cough up blood, turning his attention to the two men in front of him. did The others not know these guys were still here?

“You should’ve minded your own business sheriff,” said one of the men. “You just had to come be a hero.”

The two men blocked Yunho’s view of the window, muttering their plan to escape.

“We just gotta stay up here till those bastards finish their little gathering. We can sneak out when it’s a little darker and quieter.”

“We’ll take the bitch with us, just shoot the sheriff.”

With a final burst of adrenaline, Yunho lunged towards the men. He knocked him with his shoulder through the window, the other man was quick with his gun and shot him in the back.

Yunho grunted and bit down on the gag, running to the second man and pinning him against the wall. His arms were still tied behind his back, but he used his bigger frame to keep the man from running away.

The man shot him again with the last bullet, the empty barrel clicking rapidly against his wound. Yunho pushed the man harder against the wall, and finally someone had come to help.

Hongjoong shot the man once and he went still, falling to the ground when Yunho backed off. Hongjoong caught Yunho when he swayed, and leaned him against the wall.

As soon as the gag was out of his mouth, Yunho gasped.

“yn, is she okay.”

Hongjoong went over to your still body, rolling you onto your back. Yunho watched with heavy deep breaths. Hongjoong placed his fingers against your neck and sighed.

“She’s breathing,” he said.

Yunho smiled and closed his eyes. You were safe, you would be okay.

i’m already almost done with part two i’ll post it soon🙏

taglist: @vampzity @scarfac3 @h4untedgrl @losrpark @dollywoo @jjongibears @velvetmoonlght

#—❥dvrktvnnel #—❥lixi’s nightmares #jeong yunho #yunho #ateez atiny #ateez yunho #ateez fic #yunho x reader #sheriff au #cowboy au #angst #part one #whiskey lullaby

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from-izzy · 2 days ago

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thank you for 400+ interactions!!

[00:35] | ateez choi san

“And if I do?”

pairing » ateez choi san x fem!reader

trope/au » established relationship au, non-idol au

genre » very fluffy, falling asleep during studying and boyfriend san who is worried for you because you don't take the greatest care of yourself, (it really was supposed to be fluff all through the end) turns suggestive towards the last quarter of the story, reader is a bit playful, san is very in love with you, of course you are super in love with him too

word count; estimated reading time » 1032; ~4 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » quite suggestive at the end, indeed...a suggestive sentence at the very end, san lifts the reader up, reader wears glasses, reader implied to be smaller than san, san restrains reader's hands, pet names (bubs, baby girl)

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 ateez masterlist 🤍 the boyz lee juyeon ver.

my ateez debut! here it is @jaehunnyy !! i really wanted to post smth for your bday so please take this as a late bday present 😭 thanks for proofreading a bit of this one and finding the pictures for the banners 🥰 you saved me a bunch of tears fr 😀 have fun with the second one (even though it's the same...😭)

It’s not an unusual occurrence for you to be staying up late at night and for San to find you draped over your books and worksheets when he gets home. In fact, it’s becoming such a usual occurrence that San is making it a habit to open the front door with such gentleness that the click of the door opening would be too loud for his liking. In reality, your study desk at your shared apartment is quite a distance from the entrance of the apartment, so if San wanted to, he could enter in the same way as if you were awake.

But he didn’t want to.

In the rare case that you decide to snooze off on the couch, he doesn’t want to be the one to ruin your precious, peaceful sleeping time. Unfortunately for him, he would still be needing to do it one way or another if he ever finds you asleep on the couch or anywhere but your shared bed. The victorious smile from closing the front door quietly soon turns upside down, frowning at the sight of your head lying on your stack of handouts in the study room. The stack acted as your pillow, your arms around the rectangular pile. You look like you have been resting your body for some time now, given that San’s soft head pat didn’t faze you at all. With a slightly heavy sigh, San makes his way to the other side of the desk to get a better look at your face. He kneels on the floor, content with being more at eye level with you.

He’s surprised to see that you must’ve been so exhausted that taking your glasses off might have been too much effort for you. The side frame completely rests on the paper, the nose pad of the glasses no longer resting properly on your nose. San hisses at how the hard plastic pushes against your nose, already imagining the pain when you wake up and realise tomorrow.

“Bubs,” he tests your consciousness with a whisper. “Your whole body is going to hurt when you wake up, you know?” Your breathing is still as even as before, and the no response from you deepens his frown. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to move you, okay?”

San rises to his feet once again, grabbing the blanket drapped on your study desk that he has prepared. He’s told you multiple times to at least cover your body if you don’t plan to take a nap on the bed, but he should have known that when tiredness kicks in, all a person wants to do is to close their eyes. San spreads the light cotton across your back, kissing the side of your head and humming sweet melodies to avoid surprising you too much with his movement.

“San?” You slur sleepily, still unable to fully wake up. San clicks your desk light off and soon sees your content smile at his little gesture. “When did you get home?”

“Just a few seconds ago. When did you fall asleep?”

“Just a few minutes ago.” A raised eyebrow from your boyfriend is what prompts you to tell him the truth. “A little longer than that.”

San tuts disapprovingly, “You can’t keep slouching off on the table. It’s not good for your body. And this,” he takes your glasses off by the hinges, “it’s not comfortable for you.”

You hum at his loving lecture for you, beginning to straighten your back from the long nap. Truthfully, if San weren’t beside you right now, you would be sending complaints to your past self for dozing off at the table, your back cramping and sore. But Choi San knows you too well, and the creases between your eyebrows tell him everything.

“See?” He reprimands.

You’re not given another chance to rebut when he swivels the chair around for you to face him. In a second, you’re in his arms, the back of your knee and back supported securely with his arms, and your shoulder pressed against his chest. San looks down at you, pressing a quick kiss on your forehead that you respond to by pressing yours along his jawline. Along the short walk to the adjacent room, you plant kisses all over his face, giggling at the way his cheeks grow red with every second.

Just a few seconds before San would rest you gently on the mattress, you steal a kiss from his plump lips, arms wrapped around his nape and threading your fingers into the strands of his hair. San almost stumbles but soon regains balance when he registers the way you delicately take his lips. Along with the giggles and fabric rustling against each other in the small room, it’s not long until your head properly lays on a pillow. San doesn’t let you breathe after, climbing on top of your figure with his palms beside your head to support himself. His knees sink to the mattress beside your thighs, and you’re left breathless with the man before you. The remnants of his cologne are clearer now, and the proximity leaves you curling up a side of your lips.

Your boyfriend knows the meaning of your expression well from experience. “Don’t rile me up, baby girl…”

Just like he did a second ago, your eyebrow rises. Your pointer traces along the center of his exposed neck, feeling the gulp and his intense stare on you. You glide across his skin, tracing along his collarbones slowly, making sure that your touch lingers on his skin. When your finger slides down to the neckline of his fabric, it curls around his shirt to pull his tense expression closer to you. A quick touch of your lips is all you spare him before regaining eye contact with him.

“And if I do?”

Those words are enough for San to lose control, pulling the sheets to his palms as he fists them tightly. One hand leaves the bed, restraining both your wrists under his hold above your head. He dives closer to the crook of your neck, ragged breathing and warm breath against your skin.

“I’ll make sure you’ll sleep peacefully for days.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 ateez masterlist 🤍 the boyz lee juyeon ver.

tags: @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @kstrucknet @blossomnet

@haneul-and-clouds @jaehunnyy @mars101

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yunholic-jongholic · 3 days ago

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Bound to the Bosses [Part 9] | C.JH x Reader x J.YH

SUMMARY | At the age of 20, you surrendered your freedom to a former mafia gang in exchange for a secure life and all your needs met. You pledged your existence to two of the members, Choi Jongho and Jeong Yunho, who managed the leading underground strip club and took you under their wing. They both permit you to perform on weekend nights, but once the lights go out and the workday ends, you belong solely to both of them.

PAIRINGS | Jongho x Fem!Reader x Yunho

RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS | Mean Dom!Jongho, Mean Dom!Yunho, Strip Club Setting, NSFW, SMUT, Explicit Content, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Alcohol Consumption, Drunk!Jongho, Threesome, Dry Humping, Squirting, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Denial, Intoxicated Sex (Consensual), Unprotected Sex (Don't Do That), Cursing, Ranting/Venting, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Teasing, Foreplay, Fingering, Finger Sucking, Bondage Kink, Creampie, 2 Dicks in 1 Hole, Degrading, Praising, Dumbification (Idk the term), (So much, I might be missing some, Sorry If I am!)

WORD COUNT | 7.1k

AUTHOR NOTE | Crazy ass chapter. 2HO Threesome Smut. A LOT OF HORNY. Also Next chapter will have INTENSE angst. Bring your tissues tomorrow! <3

TAG LIST | @mingisleftnipple @yusalterego @galaxycatdrawz

•

You woke up the next evening. You got ready for work and grabbed a snack from your kitchen. You decided to go off to work.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before stepping inside.

The moment you walked in, you could feel their eyes on you.

Yunho.

Standing in the corner upstairs, his arms crossed, his gaze burning into you.

Jongho.

Sitting at the bar, casually chatting with Wooyoung, but you could see it—

The way his shoulders tensed slightly, the way his eyes flickered toward you just for a second too long.

They both noticed you.

And even though they were doing their own thing, you knew—

They were waiting.

Waiting for you to look their way.

Waiting for you to acknowledge them.

Waiting for you to choose where you’d go first.

And that was the part that annoyed you the most.

Because after everything—

After they pushed you away, after they let Hongjoong rip you from them—

Now they wanted to act like they couldn’t take their eyes off you?

You sighed, forcing yourself to keep your composure, and walked straight to the bar, pretending you didn’t notice Yunho watching your every move.

"Busy night?" you asked casually, sliding onto a barstool next to Jongho.

Jongho turned to you, his expression unreadable, but Wooyoung?

Wooyoung smirked immediately.

"Oh, well look who decided to show up," Wooyoung teased, winking at you as he poured a drink. "And here I thought Jongho and Yunho were gonna start a war fighting over who gets to say hi first."

Jongho shot him a sharp glare, but you just rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

"Don’t start, Woo."

"What? It’s entertaining."

Jongho sighed, turning his attention back to you, his voice low but firm.

"Did you sleep well?"

It was such a simple question, but it held so much weight.

Because what he was really asking was—

"Did you miss me?"

"Did you think about me?"

"Are you still mad at me?"

And the worst part?

You didn’t know how to answer.

Yunho’s presence was immediate—his body close, his energy unmistakable.

You felt the shift before you even turned your head, the warmth of him, the subtle tension thickening between the three of you.

Jongho noticed it too.

His soft gaze hardened slightly, his fingers twitching against his glass, but he didn’t say anything.

And Yunho?

He just smirked, his eyes flickering between you and Jongho before settling on you.

"You didn’t come see me first."

His tone was casual, but you knew better.

Knew that underneath it, he wasn’t just stating a fact—

He was challenging you.

Jongho exhaled sharply, lifting his drink to his lips like he was trying to ignore the tension Yunho had just brought with him.

But you?

You just smiled, turning your head to look at Yunho directly.

"Did you expect me to?"

His smirk faltered slightly, but only for a second before he leaned in, his voice dropping lower.

"I always expect you to."

A shiver ran down your spine, but you refused to let him see how much he still affected you.

Jongho rolled his eyes, finally setting his drink down before glancing at you.

"She can talk to whoever she wants, Yunho."

"Oh, I know." Yunho leaned back against the bar, tilting his head. "But we both also know who she actually wants."

Jongho’s jaw tensed, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Wooyoung, still behind the bar, snorted, pouring another drink for himself.

"Damn, this is better than the shows we put on stage."

You shot him a glare, but he just grinned, leaning his chin on his palm.

"So, what’s it gonna be, sweetheart?" Yunho’s voice was low, teasing, but his eyes held something real.

Something challenging.

Something possessive.

And Jongho, silent but watching you intensely, was waiting too.

Both of them, sitting on either side of you—

Both waiting for your answer.

You soon heard you name get called up and felt your body relief as you stood up and went on stage.

"You are so addicted to her." Jongho spoke to Yunho as they both watched you go on stage.

Yunho let out a low chuckle, his fingers tapping against his glass as he watched you step onto the stage, the dim lighting casting a golden glow on your skin.

"And you’re not?" he shot back, barely sparing Jongho a glance.

Jongho sighed, shaking his head, his jaw clenching slightly.

"I don’t need to control her."

Yunho smirked, his eyes never leaving you.

"No. But you still want her to be yours."

Jongho didn’t respond immediately.

Instead, he just took another slow sip of his drink, his gaze following the way you moved, the way you captivated the room effortlessly.

The way you owned their attention without even trying.

Including theirs.

"I don’t have to claim her." Jongho finally spoke, his tone calm, controlled. "She already knows how much I care about her."

Yunho scoffed, finally turning to look at him.

"And yet, here we both are—watching her. Fighting over her. Wanting her."

Jongho’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t deny it.

Because they both knew the truth.

It didn’t matter how much they tried to play it off.

Tried to act like they weren’t drowning in her.

Because the reality was—

They were both already addicted.

And neither of them knew how to let go.

After finishing your set on stage, you made your way back to the bar, grabbing another drink from Wooyoung. You could feel the tension radiating from both Yunho and Jongho, their gazes lingering on you, though neither said a word.

Just as you took a sip, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the staircase. Instinctively, you straightened up, quickly taking your drink and slipping over to a man sitting alone.

Your eyes flickered toward the entrance just in time to see Hongjoong walk in.

Your body tensed, a chill running down your spine as you forced yourself to focus on the conversation in front of you, pretending to be engaged.

You prayed he hadn’t noticed.

Prayed he hadn’t seen you with Yunho and Jongho just moments ago.

But the weight of his presence alone made it hard to breathe.

"So, I heard from the other girls you offer VIP services…" The man gave you a suggestive look.

You offered the man a small, polite smile, nodding slightly at his words.

"That’s right," you hummed, swirling your drink casually, though your attention was anything but on him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hongjoong standing beside the bar, engaged in conversation with Wooyoung and Jongho.

But it wasn’t Hongjoong that had your nerves on edge.

It was Yunho.

You could feel his gaze, sharp and burning into you from across the room.

Watching. Waiting.

And you knew exactly what was coming next.

You knew that look—the one that meant he was fighting his possessiveness, struggling to stay in control.

But would he actually do something about it?

Would he dare?

Especially with Hongjoong right there?

Your lips curled slightly, curiosity flickering inside you.

Part of you wondered—

Would Yunho play by the rules tonight?

Or would he make it known, once again, that no other man was allowed to touch you?

"Would you like one?" You smirked, keeping your tone light and confident. "I don’t charge much."

You played it off smoothly, hoping—just this once—Yunho wouldn’t interfere.

The man chuckled, his eyes scanning you with interest before leaning back in his seat.

"Maybe later, sweetheart." He smirked.

You gave him a charming smile, nodding in acknowledgment before gracefully slipping away, making your way toward another table to chat with other men.

"Yunho."

Hongjoong’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade.

Yunho blinked, finally snapping out of his trance, tearing his gaze away from you.

Hongjoong sighed, exasperated, his patience wearing thin.

"You need to get over her."

His tone was firm, unforgiving, and when Yunho didn’t immediately respond, Hongjoong’s glare hardened.

Yunho clenched his jaw, his fingers curling into fists at his sides, but he didn’t argue.

Instead, he looked away, muttering a quiet apology.

You felt the weight of the conversation behind you, but you refused to acknowledge it.

Refused to give Yunho the satisfaction of knowing you noticed.

Instead, you kept your focus on the men in front of you, forcing a charming smile, even as your heart pounded inside your chest.

Jongho remained at the bar, still chatting casually with Wooyoung, his drink in hand, seemingly unbothered by the tension lingering in the air.

Meanwhile, Yunho stood abruptly, saying something low to Hongjoong before walking off, his expression unreadable.

You tried not to watch him, but it was impossible to ignore the way he moved—calm, deliberate, determined.

He made his way toward the VIP room, slipping inside effortlessly.

And then—

He waited.

His back leaned against the doorframe, his eyes locked onto you, silently commanding your attention.

The moment you met his gaze, he lifted a hand, subtly waving you over.

A silent invitation.

Or maybe, more like a challenge.

Your pulse quickened as you glanced around, checking if anyone—Hongjoong, Jongho, Wooyoung—had noticed.

Jongho was still at the bar, lost in conversation.

Hongjoong was occupied, distracted.

For now.

You exhaled slowly, gripping your drink a little tighter.

You knew you shouldn’t follow him.

But when it came to Yunho…

When had you ever been able to resist?

You went over to Yunho and snuck into the VIP room with him.

As soon as you stepped inside, the door clicked shut behind you, sealing the two of you away from prying eyes.

"You know you could get us in a lot of trouble."

Your voice was a whispered warning, but it didn’t matter—not to Yunho.

He didn’t even let you finish before his lips were on yours, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him.

Desperate. Needy. Possessive.

Like he had been starving for you, and now that he had you alone, he wasn’t going to waste a second.

"Yunho..."

You breathed his name, but he wasn’t slowing down—wasn’t giving you a chance to catch your breath, to think, to resist.

Because you knew you should resist.

Hongjoong was right outside.

Shit.

But God, why did he have to be so addictive?

Why did he have to make it so damn hard to say no?

Yunho's phone buzzed suddenly, breaking the heated moment. He let out a frustrated curse, reluctantly pulling away before answering.

"What." His voice was low, raspy, still thick with the intensity of your kiss.

On the other end, Mingi’s voice came through.

"Hongjoong needs us for a task."

Yunho let out a deep groan, rolling his eyes.

"Can it wait? I'm a little... occupied right now." He smirked, his gaze dropping to yours, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"No... not really." Mingi sighed, clearly unimpressed.

You just stood there listening.

"Fine. I'll be outside in two minutes."

Yunho’s voice was laced with frustration as he hung up, his jaw tensing with irritation.

He looked annoyed now, his mood shifting instantly.

But before you could step away, his hand snatched your wrist, yanking you close one last time.

"Don't give in to any men while I'm gone." His tone was low, dark—almost threatening.

You barely had time to react before his fingers tilted your chin up, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Wooyoung will be watching you. If I catch you with someone else…" he exhaled sharply, his grip tightening slightly, "I won’t be so nice. To you. Or to him."

You shivered under his possessive gaze, heart racing, lips parting to respond—

But before you could, his lips crashed into yours one last time.

It was fast, deep, demanding, like he was staking his claim before walking away.

And then—

Just as quickly as he had pulled you in, he let go.

Without another word, Yunho turned and strode out of the VIP room, leaving you standing there—dazed, breathless, and completely rattled.

Your fingers touched your kiss-swollen lips, your mind still spinning.

What the hell just happened?

You stepped out of the VIP room, trying to steady your breath, pushing away the lingering heat of Yunho’s touch.

Your eyes scanned the room, quickly noting that Hongjoong was no longer at the bar—he must have gone back upstairs.

Jongho, however, was still there, now sitting alone with Wooyoung.

Without hesitation, you slid into the seat beside him, trying to ground yourself, trying to erase the dazed feeling Yunho had left behind.

"Busy night?" You asked casually, picking up a drink, hoping neither of them could read the mess of thoughts running through your head.

Jongho glanced at you, his sharp eyes assessing, as if he already knew something was off.

Wooyoung, on the other hand, smirked, his gaze flicking between you and the VIP room you had just stepped out of.

"Should I even ask where you disappeared to?" He teased, leaning on the bar, clearly entertained.

Jongho’s jaw tightened slightly, his fingers wrapping around his glass.

You just sighed, taking a sip of your drink, doing your best to ignore the tension settling between the three of you.

You hummed softly looking around and Jongho finally spoke.

Wooyoung snickered, lazily wiping down the counter as he spoke.

"Yunho just gave me the message. Try not to piss him off while he's gone, huh? But then again..." He smirked, flicking his gaze between you and Jongho. "I already know you two will be ‘occupied’ at some point, so I don’t really need to keep an eye on you, do I?"

His tone was mocking, teasing, but it held a hint of truth.

You shot him a sharp glare, but he only grinned, clearly enjoying himself.

With a sigh, you turned your attention to Jongho—

Who was very clearly drunk.

His glass was nearly empty, his movements a little too slow, a little too loose, and his eyes, though usually sharp, were glazed over slightly.

"Jongho..." You murmured, leaning closer.

He blinked, looking at you a little too long, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something.

Wooyoung snorted.

"Yeah, good luck with that one. He’s been drinking since before you even walked in."

Your stomach twisted slightly, worry creeping in.

Jongho was usually in control, composed—but right now?

Right now, he looked like he was drowning in something deeper than just alcohol.

Jongho groaned, slumping forward as he motioned for another drink.

You immediately shot Wooyoung a look, your concern overtaking everything else.

"Wait… don’t give him anymore."

Wooyoung paused mid-pour, raising a brow at you but ultimately shrugging as he put the bottle back down.

"Your call." He smirked but didn’t argue.

Jongho, however, wasn’t as accepting.

"What the fuck?" he slurred, his voice uneven, his frustration clear.

You turned to him, your hands gently wrapping around his arms, trying to steady him, trying to reach through the drunken haze.

"I’m taking you to bed."

He blinked slowly, his gaze unfocused, his lips parting like he wanted to protest—

But you didn’t give him the chance.

"You need anything but alcohol right now, Jongho."

Your tone was firm but soft, the weight of concern heavy in your words.

You exhaled sharply, shifting his arm over your shoulder as you helped him stand.

Jongho was heavy, his frame solid against yours, but you didn’t care.

He needed someone to take care of him.

And right now, that someone was you.

You immediately took off upstairs with Jongho forgetting about the rules right now Hongjoong set on all you three.

You pushed open Jongho’s door, carefully guiding him inside. His body was heavy against yours, his steps unsteady, but you managed to get him to the bed without much trouble.

As you eased him down onto the mattress, you sighed, brushing a hand through your hair.

"What is happening with you, Jongho?"

You searched his glazed-over eyes, looking for some kind of answer—some kind of reason for why he was like this tonight.

But instead of responding seriously, he just chuckled, his lips curling into a lazy smirk.

"You’re pretty..." His voice was deep, slow, almost teasing as his lidded eyes trailed over you.

You rolled your eyes.

"Jongho—"

Before you could finish, he clung onto you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you down onto the bed with him.

"Are you here to tuck me in?" he murmured against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.

You froze for a second, his grip strong despite how drunk he was.

Your heart stuttered at the proximity, the weight of his body pressing into yours, the scent of him mixed with alcohol and something undeniably Jongho.

"Jongho..." You sighed, not sure whether to scold him or melt into his hold.

Because even in his drunken state—

He still felt like home.

You just sat there, thinking.

Jongho let out a low, bitter laugh, his head tilting back against the pillow.

"God, I am so stupid…"

His voice was thick with something deeper than just alcohol—regret, frustration, something you couldn’t quite place.

You furrowed your brows, watching him carefully.

"No, you’re not, Jongho…" you murmured, concern lacing your voice. "I’m just worried about you right now. Your health—"

Before you could finish, he let out another quiet laugh, shaking his head.

"No… I…"

His words trailed off, barely audible, and then—

Suddenly, you were on his lap.

A startled squeak left your lips as he effortlessly pulled you into him, your hands instinctively gripping onto his arms to steady yourself.

Your heartbeat picked up instantly, your body now pressed against his, straddling his lap.

Jongho’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his fingertips pressing into your skin as his hazy eyes locked onto yours.

"Jongho…" You whispered, unsure of what to do.

Because this—this was dangerous.

Not just because he was drunk.

But because you felt it.

The way his body melted against yours.

The way his words carried a weight he wasn’t ready to admit.

And the way your heart responded to it anyway.

Jongho laughed again, but this time, there was something raw in it—something unsteady.

His grip on your waist tightened, and when he spoke next, his voice was lower, rougher, more vulnerable than you'd ever heard before.

"I’m serious. I feel so stupid..." he muttered, shaking his head as if he was angry at himself.

Then he looked at you—really looked at you.

"I am so deeply in love with you, and you are driving me crazy."

Your breath hitched.

Your heart pounded so violently you swore he could hear it.

"Jongho…"

You barely got his name out, your face suddenly burning at his confession.

He said it.

He actually said it.

Not through teasing, not through silence, not through the way he touched you or the way he kept you close—

But out loud.

Like he didn’t even care if it ruined everything.

Like he just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

You didn’t know what to say—what to do—

Because God, you wanted to say it back.

But would it even matter?

Would it change anything?

Jongho let out another breathy laugh, though this one was tinged with frustration, desperation.

"See?" he exhaled, his forehead dropping against your shoulder. "I told you. You’re making me lose my mind."

Jongho let out a frustrated groan, his hands gripping your waist as if trying to ground himself—trying to keep his emotions from completely spilling over.

"I have a feeling you love Yunho more than me…" he muttered, his voice strained, his gaze glazed yet piercing.

His next words came quieter, but they hit you like a storm.

"I keep falling deeper in love with you every moment we spend together. It’s fucking hurting me..."

You felt your chest tighten.

He leaned forward, his forehead nearly pressing into yours, his voice dropping even lower.

"I don’t even care what Hongjoong will do. I will protect you and just keep you safe."

Your breath hitched.

His words were too raw, too full of something dangerous—something he shouldn’t be saying.

You searched his dazed expression, wondering if it was just the alcohol talking.

Maybe it wasn’t real.

Maybe it was just his emotions clouded by whiskey and regret.

But… what if he meant it?

What if this was everything he had been holding back?

Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

"I love you and Yunho both equally…" you hummed, trying to soothe him, trying to calm the storm brewing in his eyes.

Jongho, however, let out a sharp breath, his jaw clenching.

"Then why did you let him touch and kiss you all in that room…" he huffed, his frustration leaking through, his hands gripping your hips tighter.

His gaze burned into yours, his jealousy, his pain—everything he had been bottling up—on full display.

"…while I was left alone, drinking with Wooyoung?"

Your stomach dropped.

Because you knew this wasn’t just drunken rambling.

This was real.

This was him finally breaking.

"I'm sorry..." you breathed out, your voice soft, almost fragile.

You laid your hands gently on his chest, feeling the way his heartbeat pounded beneath your fingertips—fast, uneven, aching.

Slowly, you eased him back down onto the bed, your body curling into his as if it could somehow shield him from his own pain.

Jongho let out a shaky breath, his arms wrapping around you—tight, desperate, like he needed to hold onto something real.

"I hate this feeling," he whispered, his voice strained, full of frustration, longing, and something deeper—something breaking.

You felt his chest rise and fall beneath you, his grip trembling slightly.

"I hate how I’m so in love with you, and I can’t escape it. I can’t stop it. I can’t do anything I want to do."

His voice cracked, his fingers gripping the fabric of your clothes like it was the only thing keeping him together.

"I’m just stuck here."

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words press down on you.

He wasn’t just talking about Hongjoong.

He wasn’t just talking about Yunho.

He was talking about you.

How he was trapped in this love for you—one he couldn’t run from, couldn’t fix, couldn’t control.

And God, it hurt to hear.

"I'm sorry, Jongho..." you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Laying there with him, feeling the warmth of his body wrapped around you, you wanted time to stop.

You wanted to stay like this forever.

No chaos. No Hongjoong. No rules.

Just you and him.

Your fingers brushed against his cheek, your heart aching as you looked into his tired, conflicted eyes.

"Me and Yunho didn’t do anything serious..." you murmured, trying—needing—to ease his pain. "We kissed, but... he was pulled away before anything else happened."

Jongho’s eyes searched yours, uncertain, hesitant, but full of something deeper.

For a moment, he was silent.

Then, he let out a rough sigh, his hand running through his hair, tugging slightly at the strands as if trying to relieve some of the pressure in his head.

"Don’t be sorry," he muttered, his tone bitter but self-aware.

"I chose this life for myself... I put myself in this mess."

His jaw clenched, his body tensing beneath you, as if the weight of everything was finally settling on his shoulders.

You searched for something—anything to pull him out of the storm raging inside him.

A way to ease his pain, to ground him, to make him forget—just for now.

Slowly, you shifted, crawling onto his lap, your movements deliberate, careful.

Jongho stilled beneath you, his breath hitching slightly as his gaze flickered up to yours.

His lips parted, but no words came out.

For the first time since this conversation started, he was silent.

Just watching you.

You placed your hands on his chest, clinging onto his shirt, feeling the way his heartbeat thundered beneath your palms.

His fingers twitched at his sides, as if he wanted to touch you—

But was holding himself back.

"Jongho..." You whispered, your voice soft, barely audible.

His eyes darkened, filled with something unspoken.

Something dangerous.

Something vulnerable.

Something that told you—

He needed this just as much as you did.

You started moving against him, slowly grinding yourself against his lap. He groans and places his hands over your waist.

"Jongho..." you accidentally moan out. You started feeling a wet spot form underneath you.

"Fuck." He cursed. You immediately felt him grow underneath you, causing another moan to slip out. He was enjoying the view. seeing you pleasure yourself against him.

"Please..." Your lips parted as you kept moving, you bit onto your lip to control yourself and he started helping you move, sliding your hips back and forth with his hands. He groaned at the feeling bucking his hips up into you, wanting more than just the teasing and dry humping.

You both notice the wet spot on his crotch getting larger as you kept moving. He sat up and placed his lips over your neck kissing and biting on the skin softly. You felt his hands travel up and remove your bra and start immediately squeezing and massaging your breasts. You moaned even louder throwing your head back, letting him have more access to your neck.

You soon felt his bulge graze over your clothed clit causing you to feel a wave of pleasure surge through you, making you squirt on him. You moan out feeling your legs tremble in over pleasure and he holds you to his chest. You heavily breath out trying to calm yourself. Jongho exhales, looking deep into your eyes.

"That was so fucking hot..." he breathed out pressing his lips against yours. You moan into the kiss and taste the bitter sweetness of the alcohol he had drank before.

"Fuck... Baby, I need more..." He attached his lips back to your neck immediately taking his clothes off. You were unsure if you could do another round as that hit to insanely hard.

"What if Hongjoong catches us...?" you whispered, your breath uneven as Jongho’s lips brushed against your neck.

His low groan sent shivers through you, his grip on your waist tightening just slightly.

"He can watch me fuck you..." he murmured, his voice laced with both teasing and something far darker.

Your heart stuttered, but you immediately pushed him back against the mattress, trying to clear the haze between you both.

"I’m serious, Jongho..." you whispered, searching his half-lidded gaze for something real—something more than just drunken impulse.

But he only smirked, tilting his head as he watched you carefully.

"And you don’t think I am?" His voice was low, unreadable, but his eyes held a challenge.

And God, you knew he meant it.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, shaking your head.

"Wow... You are really drunk." you hummed, shifting to climb off his lap.

But the second you tried—

His hands snapped back around your waist, pulling you down onto him again.

You let out a small gasp, your hands catching on his chest for balance.

His breath was warm against your skin, his grip firm but careful.

"Where do you think you’re going?" he muttered, his gaze locking onto yours.

And just like that—

You were trapped in his orbit again.

"I need to go back to work..." you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction.

Jongho’s smirk deepened, his grip on your waist tightening just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"I am your boss," he murmured, his voice low, intoxicating.

His fingers dug into your hips, making you let out a small whimper as you instinctively shifted against him.

His breath fanned against your lips, his eyes dark with possession, desire, something unrelenting.

"And as your boss..." he continued, dragging his nails along your skin, marking you with his touch.

"I want you right here. Under me. Screaming my name."

A deep growl rumbled in his chest as he pulled you impossibly closer.

Your body betrayed you, heat pooling in your core as your breath hitched.

"Jongho..." you whispered, fingers trembling against his chest.

You now felt his tip poke against you.

Your heart pounded as the sudden knock on the door sent a wave of panic through you.

Shit.

You scrambled off Jongho, grabbing the covers and tossing them over him as you frantically searched for a place to hide.

But before you could even take a step—

Jongho's hands shot out, gripping your wrist, yanking you right back onto his lap.

"Jongho—" you whimpered, fear creeping into your voice.

The door handle clicked.

Your stomach dropped.

Your eyes widened as the door slowly swung open—

And they're stood Yunho.

Smirking.

His gaze flickered from you, flushed and breathless, to Jongho, looking entirely too satisfied despite the obvious interruption.

A low chuckle rumbled from Yunho’s throat as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes full of amusement.

"Well, well..." he drawled, taking his time looking between the two of you.

"Looks like you two were having fun without me."

"Yunho, you almost scared me..." you shivered, still perched on top of Jongho, your heart still racing from the sudden intrusion.

But Yunho?

He only smirked wider, his dark eyes scanning you—taking in every little detail of your flushed, trembling form.

"Wooyoung told me you and Jongho were in here."

His voice was low, amused, but there was something possessive lurking beneath it.

He stepped inside, closing the door with a soft click—but the moment you heard the lock turn, your breath hitched.

Yunho shrugged off his coat, his fingers slowly working down the buttons of his shirt before sliding it off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

His muscles tensed slightly, his gaze never leaving you.

Jongho, still beneath you, let out a soft hiccup, his arms tightening around your waist.

"She needs to be punished," he muttered, his voice huskier now, laced with drunken frustration.

Yunho raised a brow, smirking.

"Oh?" He stepped closer, tilting his head.

Jongho let out a low groan, his fingers digging into your hips.

"She isn’t giving me what I want."

Your breath caught in your throat.

Jongho’s words lingered in the air, thick with implication.

And Yunho?

Yunho grinned—slow, wicked, and entirely too entertained by the situation.

"Then, sweetheart," he murmured, his hand trailing up your arm as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

"Are you going to behave for us?"

You felt a shiver in your spine traveling all over your body.

Your breath hitched, your body tensing as Yunho’s grip tightened around your chin, forcing you to meet his piercing gaze.

"I... I’m worried Hongjoong will find us," you tried to say, your voice barely above a whisper—your words nearly stumbling over themselves as you avoided Yunho’s sharp eyes.

But Yunho only chuckled darkly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

"Oh, we will keep you quiet."

Your stomach flipped, a mixture of fear, anticipation, and something else entirely twisting deep inside you.

You swallowed hard, turning slightly in Jongho’s lap, desperate for some kind of escape—for some kind of control.

"Jongho is drunk out of his mind..." you huffed, trying to shift the focus.

But Yunho only tsk-ed, shaking his head slowly.

"Don't put the blame on your other owner."

Your eyes flicked back up to his, the weight of his words pressing down on you.

"He had a rough discussion... I had to help him... But it was only to distract him..." you muttered, fidgeting slightly on Jongho’s lap, feeling the heat of both their gazes burning into you.

"I didn’t want to have a whole session with him—"

Yunho cut you off instantly, his hand gripping the base of your throat, his eyes dark and unforgiving.

"You never—NEVER—turn away from your owners when they need you."

His voice was low, but it held a warning—a dangerous one.

Behind you, Jongho smirked, his hands tightening around your waist.

"He’s right, sweetheart..." Jongho purred, his lips grazing your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

"You belong to us." Jongho nips at your earlobe. You whimpered.

Your breath hitched, your body trembling as you tried once more to plead your case.

"I feel sensitive too… I don’t think I could have done another round," you whispered, your voice barely steady.

You hoped—prayed—they’d understand.

But Yunho only smirked.

"Well… that’s unfortunate," he murmured, his fingers tilting your chin up, his lips brushing over yours before biting down softly on your bottom lip.

You whimpered, your hands gripping at his chest instinctively.

Behind you, Jongho chuckled, his voice deep and laced with amusement.

"You can go first with her," Jongho spoke, his words holding something unspoken—something possessive.

Yunho’s eyes locked onto yours, his expression dark and filled with intent.

"Oh, I’ll make sure she gets exactly what she deserves."

Before you could process it, a sharp tug pulled you forward, and in a swift motion, you found yourself sprawled over Yunho’s lap.

A small gasp escaped your lips as your stomach pressed harshly against him, your hands gripping onto his thighs for balance.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, your mind racing, pulse hammering in your ears.

From behind you, Jongho let out a low hum, as if fully enjoying the sight before him.

And Yunho?

Yunho traced slow, deliberate circles along your spine, letting the tension build.

"Now, sweetheart…" he mused, his tone mockingly sweet, but his grip firm, unwavering.

"Let’s see if you’re really as sensitive as you say you are."

You soon felt his hand slide down your back and you felt two fingers slide deep inside you causing you to gasp.

"Yunho!" You cried out feeling the overstimulation pool inside you.

"She is completely wet..." Yunho smirked. You cried out and Yunho bit his bottom lip looking down at you.

"Sensitive my ass. You are enjoying this." Yunho growls. You moan out helplessly feeling your insides pulse.

"Only if you could see yourself. You are practically begging to be dicked down." Yunho spits. You try to cross your legs but immediately felt a slap against your wet cunt. You gasp at the feeling and

"Please!" You cry out, Yunho ignores you and shoves his other two fingers down your throat causing you to gag. You moaned as your tongue swirled around his fingers.

You suck on them lightly causing him to groan and remove his fingers, gripping your neck. A string of saliva connects from your tongue to his fingers, and you moan out.

"Fuck..." He curses as his fingers slide in and out of wet cunt. You soon felt another release coming and you whimpered gripping tightly onto his thighs.

"Are you close?" He asked. You nod softly and he smirks pulling his fingers out. You whine at the loss, and he just throws you down onto your knees as he smirks at you.

"Please Yunho!" You cry out feeling completely unstable.

"So desperate." Yunho’s voice dripped with mocking amusement, his gaze bearing down on you, unwavering and filled with something dangerous.

You looked up at him, searching his face, then turned your eyes toward Jongho, your chest rising and falling rapidly as heat curled in your stomach.

"I need you both so bad..." you breathed out, your voice barely above a plea, trembling with unspoken desire.

Yunho let out a low chuckle, his fingers tilting your chin up, forcing you to hold his gaze.

"Sure you do…" he mused, his tone teasing as his thumb slowly traced your bottom lip, his eyes never leaving yours.

The moment stretched, thick with anticipation.

Your breath hitched as you turned your gaze toward Jongho, your eyes softening, lips parting as his name fell from your lips.

"Jongho, please..."

Jongho’s smirk faltered, his expression darkening, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric beneath him.

His jaw clenched.

You knew that look.

He was holding back.

And it was only a matter of time before he snapped.

"We are going to keep having fun with you until we think you are good enough to get what you want." Jongho speaks.

"Now bring her onto the bed." Jongho sits up and makes space for you to lay down. Yunho grabs your wrists and throws you on the bed as he pins your wrists down.

"Get my tie." Yunho commands Jongho who gets up and grabs the tie off the floor. You look at them terrified of what will be next.

"She is shivering..." Yunho scoffed.

Jongho immediately tied your wrists onto the headboard as you were forced to lay there and not move or they would discipline you.

Yunho lifted your legs up spreading them out. He caressed your inner thighs causing you to shiver.

Jongho on the other hand watched him as he lowered his head and started kissing your inner thighs, until you felt him bite down on a spot. You cried out feeling the stinging pain.

"Please..." You tried to cross your thighs back closing them, but Yunho smacked your thighs this time keeping them open.

Jongho on the other hand, went and hovered his face over your chest, you felt his tongue trail around your chest as he finally went to one of your breasts and flicked his tongue over your nipple. You let out a soft moan.

"I am afraid to get caught..." You breath out squirming underneath them both.

"Mhm..." Yunho hummed before biting on your thigh again. He kissed it softly right after and his lips traveled to your cunt. He did one lick over your folds causing you to moan out again.

"Please... Both of you... I can't..." You cry out and they just both ignore you. Yunho keeps his face lowered and starts licking and sucking on your clit. You moan helplessly trying to pull against your restraints.

"Oh my god!" You yell grinding your hips up until Yunho's face, Jongho's tongue still works against one nipple now biting it softly.

"Please! I promise I will be good. I only need you both. Please!" You cry out feeling the intensity surge all inside your body.

"Not enough..." Jongho smirks against your chest before biting again.

"Please! I only belong to both of you... I need you both so bad right now..." You felt your body shaking and Jongho smirks.

"We should let her go..." Jongho mumbles against your skin. Yunho lets go and looks at him.

"Fine..." Yunho huffs. You feel Jongho take your restrains off and he slides you on top of him, but your back facing him.

Yunho gets in front of you and unzips his pants, taking them off.

Yunho groaned shoving his cock deep into you. Jongho soon followed after Yunho as they both tried to fit themselves in the same hole. You moaned and bit your lip, digging you nails into Yunho's back as you felt them both try to squeeze in.

"Fuck." Jongho cursed attaching his lips to your neck and shoulder kissing you.

They both started to thrust in and out of you. You lowered your head back onto Jonghos shoulder moaning.

"She can barely fit us..." Jongho groaned against your neck. Yunho huffed out slamming himself in and out of you.

"She is doing an amazing job though." Yunho smirked gripping your waist. Jonghos hands cupped your breasts squeezing and holding onto them.

"I… Seriously can’t…" you mumbled, your words barely forming, your breath shaky as your body trembled beneath their presence.

Yunho didn’t give you a second longer to think.

He crashed his lips against yours, rough and unrelenting, swallowing any hesitation you had left.

A small whimper escaped you as his breathing was heavy. They both thrust into you. Yunho deepening the kiss with a hunger that made your head spin.

Your fingers curled into his bare shoulders, your body melting into him despite the overwhelming intensity.

He pulled back only slightly, his lips still brushing against yours as he spoke, his voice a low, teasing whisper.

"Can’t what, baby?"

His smirk was lazy, smug, his breath warm against your swollen lips.

"Use your words."

You shivered, your mind clouded, completely trapped in their orbit.

And the worst part?

You weren’t sure you wanted to escape.

You looked down for a second seeing they are completely inside you now as they continue slamming into you.

"Oh my god!" You moaned loudly, feeling another strong wave of pleasure hit you inside and soon once again you squirted on both of them. Both of them watch you heavily breathing and groaning.

Yunho smirks and grips your chin for a second.

"You are so perfect for us." He groans. You felt your legs tremble as they went back continuing to fuck you.

"Yunho! Jongho..." You moan out feeling now extremely sensitive. But neither of them cared. They were now only trying to reach their highs. It wasn't long till they both came inside you and pulled out. You laid flat on Jongho panting and trembling.

Yunho let out a low chuckle, his fingers brushing against your flushed skin as he watched your body grow limp with exhaustion.

"Is our sweetheart tired?" he teased, amusement lacing his tone as he trailed his fingertips down your spine, sending a soft shiver through you.

Jongho only hummed against you, his hands lazily caressing your body, his touch warm and grounding.

Your eyelids grew heavier, the world blurring at the edges as you slowly slid off to the side, curling up next to Jongho, clinging to his arm as your body settled against him.

Jongho’s warmth wrapped around you like a protective shield, his heartbeat steady beneath your touch.

Yunho sighed, shaking his head with a soft laugh.

"Sweetheart, we need to take you home. Don't fall asleep yet..."

His voice was teasing, but there was an edge of tenderness beneath it.

Before you could respond, Jongho tightened his grip around you, his deep voice rumbling softly against your ear.

"Actually… she can sleep here with me."

Yunho raised a brow, watching as Jongho pulled the covers over you, his arm securing you possessively against him.

"I can keep my door locked from Hongjoong."

There was a finality in his voice, a silent challenge.

Yunho only smirked.

"Fine. But if she’s still asleep in the morning, I’m stealing her back."

Jongho let out a low chuckle, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple as you finally gave in to the sleep pulling you under.

And in that moment—wrapped in Jongho’s arms, Yunho watching over you—

You felt safe and for once, back to normal.

•

A/N: 2 Chapters in one day. Next one is pure angst. Y'all will hate me (or love me.) ;)

E/N: I cried next chapter. I am still editing, maybe tomorrow.

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moanz111 · 1 day ago

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✩°⋆｡ system error ⋆｡°✩ - 48

chapter 48 ✧ be square

< previous ✧ m.list ✧ next >

synopsis ✧ you've always dreamt of having your fantasy-like love story. naturally, hearing the sweet melodic ring of your love alarm was what you wanted the most, right? until it actually happened. four times.

pairing ✧ uni student! choi san x fem! uni student! reader

warnings/tags ✧ timestamps/numbers don't mean anything, swearing

note ✧ final 2 (or 3) chapters will be posted next week so enjoy the ride while it lasts :( (typing this through imaginary tears because icb it'll be over soon, system error is like my baby) i'm down to make bonus chapters so if there is something you wish to see, i'm open to suggestions!

i hope you enjoyed this chapter! as always feedback, comments and reblogs are appreciated! my inbox is always open too so feel free to leave something in there even if it's not related to system error <3

taglist ✧ @flamingi @huachengsbestie01 @minihong99 @staytinyluv @luvpeachkes @gh9sty @dawn-iscozy @zaraxnid @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @m-ray-72 @leesalts @hyunnjiin @xeirisarax

#✩°⋆｡ system error smau #ateez fake texts #ateez smau #ateez social media au #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #san x reader #choi san smau

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blue5ummer · 12 hours ago

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This series of Mingi is a must read!!! well written, nice plot, definitely GOOD✨💞

strangers by nature | masterlist

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever.

Taglist Signup

chapter i ⋆ chapter ii ⋆ chapter iii ⋆ chapter iv ⋆ chapter v ⋆ chapter vi ⋆ chapter vii ⋆ chapter viii ⋆ chapter ix ⋆ chapter x ⋆ chapter xi ⋆ chapter xii

#song mingi #ateez mingi #mingi x reader #ateez #ateez fic #enemies to lovers #mingi x you #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez imagines

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nyx-y · 19 hours ago

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⭑.ᐟ WATCH YOUR BACK

II: GOOD LUCK, LITTLE ONE

Pairing: BadBoys!Ateez OT8 x Reader

WC: 6.6k

Synopsis| After your first encounter with Ateez, you are now their new target. Now, you don't tend to break easily... well depending on the situation of course. So, what will Ateez have do to just to see that bold facade of yours fall...hm?

TW!|18+, Bullying, Smut, Stalking, Angst, Cursing, Death threats, Violence (physical, domestic), Assault, Sexual assault, Abuse( emotional, verbal, physical, psychological), Drug use, Drinking (underage), Depictions of Disordered eating, Depictions of panic attacks, Mental illness (depression, PTSD), Self-harm, and Unhealthy coping mechanisms.

DISCLAIMER!|This series is not a representation of the idols as individuals and is to not be taken seriously. If you’re uncomfortable with the content in the series or on my page, then feel free to click off at any moment.

🐈‍⬛ ྀི

"Y/n, oh my gosh you need to hide right now!" Yuji came running up to you as soon as you arrived to your locker as she gave you a scared look. "Um, why do I have to hide Yuji?" You asked as you gave Yuji a confused look. All of a sudden you and Yuji heard girls squealing, which only meant one thing, ATEEZ had just arrived at the school.

"Y/n, you need to go hide right now! " Yuji begged as she shook your shoulders. "Yuji listen, I'm not scared of those assholes alright, I can handle myself okay." You tried to reassure Yuji. "Y/n no please I'm begging you, you are in danger, you need to hide." Yuji whined.

"Yuji, trust me I'm fine, I will be fine, and I'll always be fine okay, stop worrying." You really to convince Yuji, but she didn't seem so convinced by your words.

"Y/n, look around." Yuji ordered. You look around and see that some people who were in the hallway were looking at you with hatred and some with disgusted expressions.

"See Y/n, after you pissed off ATEEZ, everyone in this god forsaken school now hates you, next thing you know, it's gonna be the while damn town!" You blinked a couple of times completely taken back because of what Yuji said.

Everyone hating you wasn't something you were new to, you knew it, you just hated hearing the words said to you, it hurt the scared love-craving little girl inside of you, but you didn't want to show it.

"Yuji, being hated by is not new to me okay, you have nothing to worry about, now come on let's go everyone to class." You grabbed Yuji's arm as you two began walking to class with everyone's eyes fixed on you.

🐈‍⬛ ྀི

You just finish writing notes in your notebook and decided to ask to go to the bathroom to kill time until lunch. "Uhm, Mr. Chan can I go to the bathroom please?" You asked as your raised hand. "Did you your notes, Ms. Choi, If you didn't finish your notes then you can't go."

"Yes, I just finished them." you said with an irritated tone. "Alright then, you can go" your teacher nodded "Thanks." You got up and walked out of the classroom and into the hallway. And as you were walking into the hallway you felt people watching you.

You turned around to see if anyone was there, but there was no one there. But, when you turned around you found yourself being surrounded by Yunho, Yeosang, Mingi, Wooyoung & Jongho. "My fucking god, what in the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that, what the fuck do you idiots want?" You asked while crossing your arms.

"See, it's only been like 5 seconds and I already wanna punch her in her damn the mouth." Yunho spat while looking at you with disgust. "I would love to see you try, dumbass." You groaned while putting your hands on your hips. "The fuck did you just call me?" Yunho growled while walking up to you.

" My goodness, if you were fucking listening to me the first time, then maybe you wouldn't have asked me to repeat what I said." You grumbled rolling your eyes. "Grab this bitch." you were about to run until Jongho grabbed very tightly causing intense pain in your arm.

"Ow you dick, could you be a little more gentle please?" But calling Jongho a dick only cause him to hold you even tighter. "Where in the are you taking me anyway, Disney Land"? You asked with a mix of sass and sarcasm. "School basement so we can fuck you up". Yeosang snarled without looking at you.

"The fuck me up to do you mean like beat me to death or actually fu-" you teased "The first one now shut up." Yunho interrupted you. "Okay chill out bitch , I was just asking because if it was the case you could've at least given me a minute to get ready." "Why do you talk so fucking much"? Mingi groaned.

"Why do you think everyone in this school is scared of you" you argued "Because they are and you should be too if you wanna breathe for the rest of your life". Wooyoung sneered."I'm not scared so I guess I won't breathe for the rest of my life then" you joked "You'll be scared eventually, I promise you". Jongho reassured as smirked down at you.

"Yeah, I fucking doubt it, so you can just take back your promise". You cackled. "That's what you're saying now, but just wait" Yeosang then grabbed your chin and brought his face to yours making you look him in the eye "Just you wait." Yeosang chuckled. "Well good luck with that." You replied nonchalantly.

"We don't need luck baby, we know what were doing trust me." Wooyoung asserted. "We're gonna beat your ass down believe that, sooner and later you're gonna be crying and saying that you're sorry." Yunho smirked. "I doubt that, so don't try to raise your ego's by doing thinking that I will."

You rolled your eyes. "Trust me bitch, you will." Jongho growled. "You wish you dumb piece of shit" you nagged. "If you say so" Jongho replied while tightening his grip. "Jongho, the basement is down the hall and to your right, everyone is already waiting for us there." Yeosang reported.

You noticed that Jongho loosen his grip when listening to Mingi which gave you a chance to run, so you yanked your arm away and started running. You pushed the others out of the way so they wouldn't grab you. "Come on, let's grab her." Yunho roared as he and the others ran after you.

You ran as fast you could until you saw an empty dark classroom that you could run to, but as you were running to it you hear footsteps.

You turned only to see Jongho running towards you, so you ran into and tried to shut the door but Jongho got in before you could shut the door.

You tried to run around him and out the door but quickly close it came towards you, but when you tried to run away Jongho grabbed you and pushed you up against the wall.

"Let me go asshole." You whined while hitting his arms."Who in the hell do you think you are running from us huh?" Jongho grabbed by your shirt and holding you up against the wall. "Choi Y/N bitch now let me go" You yelled hitting Jongho's arms even harder. "Not a fucking chance" Jongho hissed "Everyone fucking hates you bitch." Jongho roared.

Your squirming came to halt when you heard the words that came out of Jongho's mouth."W-what did you just say?" You stuttered as you looked at Jongho trying to fight the tears that were forming in your eyes preparing to fall down your face.

Jongho on the other hand, notice right away and quickly smirked. "Awe poor baby, did I hurt your feelings." Jongho whispered as he leaned closer your right ear.

All you could was stare at him with tears in your eyes. Again you hated hearing those combinations of words said you, you hated them more since they were true.

Hearing those words coming out of the mouths of family members from both of your mothers side and your fathers side of the family, classmates, teachers, past school board officials gathered up in conference rooms with both you and your mother discussing your behavior and soon expulsion, not hesitating to say the words even though your mother is in the room.

Your father, The evil excuse of a man. The main source to your problems. The one who introduced you to those words and more. Those words that stuck with you your entire life, and will forever stick with you til the day you die. Everyone hates you.

"Hey, earth to bitch." Jongho's laughter brought you back to your senses as he snapped his fingers in your face."There she is, where did you go babygirl" Yunho chuckled teasingly "You left us for a second, did Jongho hurt your feelings little one, hm?" Yunho laughed as he walked up to and began playing with your hair.

"You know, it's a shame that you have such a pretty face." Yunho sighed. "Yeah, if you didn't act the way you do, hell I would have maybe considered going out with you." Wooyoung chimed. "Right with you Woo, kinda sad actually." Mingi added sucking his teeth.

As soon as Mingi finished his sentence, the rest of ATEEZ walking into the classroom you were being held captive in. "The hell is taking you guys so long, huh?" Hongjoong being the last one to enter walked in and immediately knew what was going on. "Oh poor thing, let me guess, you tried to run away and failed." Hongjoong pouted at you teasingly as he walked up to you and the rest of the boys.

You started squirming again, attempting to get out of Jongho's grip but again it was no use, Jongho was strong as hell even you hate to admit it. "Let me go you stupid son of a bitch!" You demanded. "After the choice of words you decided to use, no I don't think Jongho will do that now." Seonghwa replied sucking his teeth.

You started to get irritated and thought of the only way you could get Jongho to let go of you, but you had to be fast. You hastily swung your leg up as it connected with Jongho's crotch, immediately letting go of you Jongho fell to his knees and groaned in pain.

"You stupid little-." San roared as his tried to grab you, you swiftly dodged him grabbing a stapler off of the teacher's desk and swung, hitting San on the side of his head.

San winced in pain as he held his face with his hands. "Son of a bitch!" San shouted as rubbed his hand up against the side of his head, only to feel a staple and wetness running down his face. ATEEZ quickly coming to both Jongho's and San's aid gave you a chance to run as fast as you could out of the classroom.

You didn't turn to look behind you, only focusing on getting away from ATEEZ. You eventually made it to the bathroom and once you got in, you shut the door behind you.

Tears streaming down your face, you felt your own heartbeat through your ears, a painful sting in your chest that you couldn't even stop from the outside of your body by holding your hand up to your chest, it's as if you had just ran a marathon. Your mouth felt dry as if you had been in a left stranded in a desert for days, as for your throat in which felt like sandpaper.

You felt like you were being choked by an invisible force, it felt like air refused to come in and out of your body. Everything in your vision looked like as if you were looking through a fish-eyed lens, everything then look so blurry, you couldn't focus on anything even if you tried.

You began to shiver as chills ran throughout your body, as if you were outside in the winter without the proper gear to keep you warm, all you could do was hold yourself tightly in response. You felt tingles all over your body, pin and needles from head to toe.

You didn't notice that someone had walked into the bathroom. As you were trying to catch you breath, you heard the bathroom door open. "Y/n the teacher Is waiting for- Y/n what's wrong? What happened? Is everything okay?" Yuji asked while she runs up to you. You looked at Yuji and gave her a fake smile.

"Yea I'm fine just thought about something that's all " you replied with a smile still painted on your face. what happened? "Yuji squats down and outs her hands on your shoulder, while looking at you with a worried and slightly concerned face.

"Nothing Important, come on let's go to class I didn't have to pee anyway just wanted to walk around honestly." You answered obviously lying. "Something tells me that you are lying , but I'll believe you, for now" Yuji squinted her eyes at you.

"Yuji, I promise you I'm fine" you smiled at Yuji while laughing at her squinting her eyes at you. "Are you sure that you're "fine" Y/N? " Yuji questioned as she looked at you with a kind smile plastered on her face.

"Yes I'm fine" You reassured at Yuji. "Okay then, well let's get back to class before Mr. Chan sends another person out to get us next" Yuji giggles as she helps you up off the bathroom floor.

🐈‍⬛ ྀི

"I can't believe he gave you detention for having a moment in the bathroom, that's so ridiculous fucking" Yuji complained. "I know, he could've at least show sympathy for me or something" You and Yuji walked into the cafeteria when everyone turned and look at you.

"Why is everyone staring at me?" You asked with a confused expression on your face. "The incident that happened yesterday with the boys remember?" Yuji replied. You looked over and saw people looking at you with hatred and other with disgust.

"Oh yeah that, well I'm hungry let's go in the line." You say setting your stuff down at a table in the back of the cafeteria. You and Yuji get into the lunch line to get your food, when you notice that everyone including the lunch ladies were staring at you and whispering.

"Let me guess the teachers and staff know about the Incident yesterday to huh?" You asked clearly annoyed. "Everyone does Y/n, no teachers or staff can help you either." Yuji responded. "Uhm, why is that?" You raised an eyebrow, "Y/n, everyone is so terrified of them and so no one intervenes In situations involving them and any student that crosses them. "

"Well that's messed up and stupid, people in this school are fucking babies." You and Yuji got your lunches and went to go sit down. "Y/n, everyone is staring at you" Yuji whispered. "I know, but honestly I couldn't care less, I got other things to not worry about."

You shrugged until the cafeteria went silent so you and Yuji looked and saw ATEEZ waking into the cafeteria. "Oh just fucking great." You exaggerated. "Woah what happened to San's face?" Yuji questioned.

"Oh nothing, I just bitch slapped him on the side of his head with a stapler." You giggled, smirking at Yuji who in returned looked at you with a horrified. "What, Are you crazy Y/n, why would you do that?" She loudly whispered while looking at you in a panic like state.

"Well, he tried to attacked me so I defended myself ." you shrugged while playing with your food and taking glances at the boys who also happen to be looking at you. "But enough with the unimportant shit, what are you doing after school? Because if you're not doing anything then maybe we could possibly hang out or something." You stared at Yuji waiting for an answer.

"Well actually I have dance practice on weekdays and weekends." Yuji answered while twirling her fork in her noodles. "Wait, you take dance classes?" your eyes widened as you looked at Yuji who then started giggling at you.

"Yea" Yuji giggled, "I've been dancing for year's actually, I meant to tell you this yesterday but I didn't get to because of well... you know." Yuji tilted her head slightly toward ATEEZ's direction. "Well, now I know and I also know why you bring a duffle bag to school now." you laughed.

"Yeah, after school I got straight to dance practice, you can come to watch me dance after school if you want." Yuji gave you a cheeky smile "You can ride with me there, after my dance practice, we can go to the mall or something." Yuji looked at you with excitement.

"Of course, I'll come, Yuji, I wanna see what moves you can do." you smiled at Yuji. "Oh trust me, I can do a lot," Yuji replied giving you a sly smile. You and Yuji laughed, but you slowly stopped when you felt ATEEZ looking at you again.

I mean you weren't scared or anything but you just felt uncomfortable with all of them glaring at you while you were trying to converse to Yuji. So you decided to do something stupid and risky considering your current situation between you and them.

You thought that since you weren't gonna eat your food anyway, you thought that maybe they might... want it, if you know what I mean. I know right, too risky, but you were an unstoppable risk taker and badass, so why not do something that could... No... will get you in even more trouble with them.

You took your milk carton and poured in your rice and then grabbed your fruit and poured that in after, then mixed it until it looked like straight-up puke. While you were doing so, Yuji was watching the whole process while wondering what suspicious acts you were up to this time.

You looked at Yuji who then looked at you and you gave her a wink and picked up the disgusting combination mess you've made and slowly walking to the table where the groups were all sitting at.

Realization hit Yuji one she quickly figured out what you were doing and fearfully watched as you started your leaning arm back, getting ready to throw that abomination your created on your lunch tray at ATEEZ.

Yuji, who was trying protect you, attempted to run up and stop you, hoping to save you from a potential beat down but it was already too late, you threw your beautiful art work directly at ATEEZ.

Everyone in the cafeteria looked at you in surprise considering what you had done. And Yuji looked at you with so much worry but the only thing she could do for you was to say..."Y/n... run...now... GO!"

You looked at Yuji then back at ATEEZ who were now speed walking towards you, So you then took off running into the hallway which caused them to then start running after you. You ran in the hallway turning corners and sharp turns while looking for a room to hide out in.

You then notice the gym ahead of you and began running towards the doors, opening them and running inside. You were greeted by the dim lights and a huge space...Well, not that empty considering that there were bleachers at every corner of the gym.

You heard the gym doors burst open followed by multiple loud footsteps. The boys all started sprinting towards you causing you to run to the girl's locker room, but just your luck...you were grabbed by Hongjoong and Seonghwa, and then you were picked up and carried in forcefully into a huge gym storage closet.

"Put me down assholes!" you shouted at Jongho while hitting his back. " Shut up." Both Hongjoong and Seonghwa shouted in unison. They put you down and pushed you to the floor causing you to hit your butt on the hard floor. The groups all hovered over you with angry faces and your art project on their clothes and faces.

"Hey, I like the designs on your clothes, who did it?" you chuckled. " You think this is fucking funny?" Hongjoong growled while walking up to you angrily. "Yes, yes I do think this is funny." You nodding, smiling stupidly at the boys. San walked up to you and grabbed you by your shirt, pulling you towards him. "I'll show you what's funny bitch" San said angrily and rises his fist and punched you straight in the face.

You fell back on the ground holding your face while watching as the was blood dripping from your mouth."Goddammit, I wasn't ready asshole!" you yelped as you tried to wipe the wine colored liquid from your mouth. "Awe, well then you can be ready for this one then." Wooyoung hissed as he instantly walked up to you.

He was about to punch you; when suddenly you had a chance to stop him. So, you kicked him in his chest and with that he grunted in pain as he fell down on the floor holding his hands up onto his chest while also trying to breath; that gave you time to get up and run out of the gym.

"You guys go get her, I got Woo." Yeosang shouted while kneeling down next to Wooyoung instructing him to breathe slowly in order to get the air fully into his lungs. You ran as you heard Hongjoong shouting. "San, Yunho and Mingi you guys go this way okay? The rest of us will go the other way!"

You were running through the halls trying to find a room the hide in when you saw Ateez coming down the hall you were in. You quickly ran into a huge empty classroom and attempted to shut the door, Ateez busted in knocked you back up against a huge desk in the front of the classroom.

Ateez moves from in front of the door the let Ateez in. "Gotcha bitch." Yeosang walks up to you and tried to grab you push him back using all of your strength.

Luckily for you, it was a good amount because Yeosang went stumbling backward eventually falling and hitting his head on the edge of the huge desk. Jongho walked in and saw Yeosang struggling to get back on his feet as blood trickled down from his forehead.

"You dumb fucking bitch" Jongho gently helped Yeosang up before quickly walked up to you, but before you could attempt to defend yourself, the rest of ATEEZ came in the room.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong grabbed and held you in place while Jeno threw his first two punches at you stomach then at your face. You fell on the floor hard causing you to yelp in pain. Jongho then walked up to you and started kicking you in your stomach multiple times.

Every kick was also a lack of air you received into your lungs. You mouth hung open but no air came in or out, the only thing that came out of your mouth was blood.

Your eyes widened at the sight. You remembered. You hated it. You didn't want to remember It again. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop it. Your body went numb, you're trying to catch your breath, but everything at that this very moment was in slow motion. But everything had soon gone back to its regular pace when you felt a pair of hands gripping at your hair proceeding to yank your head up to face who ever wanted your attention.

"I hope you learn your lesson you little bitch" San stared straight into your eyes which hatred and satisfaction as he watched blood ooze from your face. "Hey San" you looked at him then chuckled "Eat shit asshole" your bloody mouth then formed a smirk. San looked at you with shock and anger, they all did.

They wondering how could you stay so calm after what they had done. How are you not begging for mercy or crying in agony? Seonghwa then grabbed you, lifted you up, and pinned up against the wall.

"What the fuck is wrong you huh? What in the fuck is your problem?" Seonghwa looked straight into your eyes. He was furious, you hurt one of his younger and disrespect his friends, his family, but you couldn't care less.

You gave a sly smirk to Seonghwa "Like I said, it's gonna take a lot more than a couple of ass whoopings to get me to kneel down to bow to you dumb fucks" you laughed "But if you idiot are willing to go so low to get me there you motherfuckers must really love having power over people huh? " you continued to laugh as you pushed out of Seonghwa's grip.

"You all can beat me up, break all my limbs ,or even murder me, but at the end of the day, I won't bow down to you, I won't giving the fucking satisfaction you fuckers deeply crave. So, you can do as you please with me but know this... I don't give a fuck!" You start to laugh uncontrollably.

"And yes I might've cried because of what that muscular bear said earlier back in that classroom but guess what-" you clasped you hands together" I still doesn't change that fact that I just don't give a fuck." You chuckled.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go to the bathroom and washed my face, can't wait to see what you guys do to me next" you turn around about to walked out the door before turning around again to say one last thing.

"I'll be waiting" you winked and ATEEZ in the classroom.They boys looked at each other in amusement as you walked out the door and down the hall.

"Man she's hot." Mingi chuckled as he licked his lips thinking about what just happened, and in return receiving glares from his friends. "Look at me like that all you want, you're all thinking the exact same thing." Mingi teased while looking back at his friend who were now smiling at each other, silently admitting that they thought the same.

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You were sitting in an empty classroom serving your detention, playing with your jacket strings when suddenly you heard the classroom door open. You thought it was the teacher so you turned around, but when you did , you were greeted by someone totally different.

"Aish, what the hell do you want?" You rolled your eyes at the sight of Hongjoong entering the classroom." Just shut the hell up and just my questions, I don't have time for your shit right now." Hongjoong came and sat on your desk, his eyes refusing to leave yours.

"What questions are you about to ask me idiot because I'm really not in the mood" you slouched in your chair and staring out the window. Hongjoong sighed and you then heard a click, so looked and saw a pocket knife in Hongjoong's hands.

"Ahhh, oh my god don't kill me please." You sarcastically replied slightly waving your arms. "Just shut up and answer my damn questions." he demanded while pointing the knife at you.

"Is that supposed to scare m-" Hongjoong cut your sentence by grabbing you by the shirt and holding the knife at your neck. "Shut. Up. Now." His face was now closer to yours " Now, first question, who is your father?" You quickly turned your head in response to Hongjoong's question.

"Wouldn't you like to fucking know?" You chuckled. "What is your goddamn name?" Hongjoong looked at you slightly annoyed. "Choi Jaewun, why?" you looked at him irritated. "Well, a little birdy told me that he's in jail, well... was in jail, he's out now, did you know that sweetheart?" You looked up at Hongjoong who instantly began smirking.

"Oh, you didn't know? Yeah, he's out now." You looked away from Hongjoong, but he grabbed your chin making you look at him again. "Aren't you happy? You get to see your dad again, I bet he's gonna be really happy to see you, don't you think?" In an attempt to snatch your face away from Hongjoong, he then gripped your neck firmly bring you close to his face, leaving no space between the two of you.

"Stop snatching away from me." Hongjoong gritted teeth. He stared at you for a moment, admiring your features. He couldn't help but laugh and shake his head. In return you did the same, admiring his long eyelashes, mysterious dark brown eyes, his pointed nose, and his small plump lips, it's a shame he's such an asshole.

"You know, that little show you put on earlier in that empty classroom was quite entertaining." Hongjoong admitted as he admired your busted lip. Gently rubbing his thumb across your lips, looking repeatedly at your eyes and lips. "The fuck are you looking at?" You spat, "A bitch." Hongjoong responded still looking at your lips.

Hongjoong let his urges get the best of him, there was just something about you. He despised you, yet he couldn't help but wonder what your lips would feel like on his. Hongjoong grabbed your face, roughly connecting his lips to yours, you pulled your face away staring at him surprised.

Hongjoong, obviously not ashamed, smirked at you, " What's wrong love, you surprised?" He tilted his head, as he giggled sinisterly at your face. "You know, the boys and I were talking about you earlier and-" Hongjoong wasn't able to finish his sentence because you cut him off.

"Yeah that's great or whatever, are you done?" Hongjoong a little taken back from your words began to chuckle as he let you go and stepping back and looking at you. "Oh how fun it's gonna be watching you and your father have a nice little family reunion" Hongjoong signed with an evil grin on his face.

"Well that seems nice, let me know when you find him then." You sarcastically smile then start playing with your jacket strings again. Meanwhile Hongjoong was looking at you with shock. "Are you gonna leave or are you just gonna keep looking me like some stupid little five year old?" You looked up at him whilst still playing with your jacket strings.

Hongjoong scoffed and came close to your ear. "Oh Y/n." He then whispers in your ear, "You have no fucking idea what you're getting yourself into, baby." He moves away from your ear and stands up from off the desk then proceeds to walk to the door, but then stops in his tracks.

"I'm really looking forward to seeing you suffer Y/n." he winks at you, about to walk out of the classroom until you responded to his words. "Me too." you replied looking at Hongjoong with a small smile, he stared at you for a moment before chuckling and leaving you alone in the classroom.

🐈‍⬛ ྀི

Detention is over, and school now is closed for the day. You walked out of the school getting ready to head home. It hasn't even been 5 minutes yet, but you felt like you were being watched. You felt multiple eyes on you, and you knew exactly whose they were, so you stop in your tracks.

"So, you guys are watching me walk home now, it's giving very much stalker?" you turned only to see ATEEZ who were walking now all standing behind you, staring at you with smirks plastered on their faces. "We just wanna make sure you got home safely." Seonghwa paused for a moment, "For your protection, you know."

Seonghwa smiled innocently, but you knew it was bullshit. "Oh really, and what might you all be so eager to protect me from huh?" you looked at the boys clearly with a sarcastic . "Oh now Y/n, you and I both know that the world is a dangerous place."

San smiled, "You never know a person could just grab you, pull you into a back alley or an abandoned building and just beat you to death." You saw the shift in San's demeanor, if the darkness in his eyes weren't there before, it's sure was there now.

"Oh, alrighty then." You smiled sarcastically, rolling your eyes you turned back around to continue walking again until you heard foot steps behind you. You felt someone grab you and push you up against the wall, you looked up and saw that it was Seonghwa, looking down at you with disgust.

"Dammit, why do you motherfuckers keep pushing me up against walls?" you look at them in annoyance. "Because, it's fun looking at you all weak and defenseless that's why." Yeosang smiled stupidly while squeezing your cheeks with his hands, which gave you a chance to bite him, "Ah, you fucking bitch" Yeosang hollered as he fanned his hand around in pain.

"Keep your nasty little sausage fingers outta my face asshole." You demanded, "Listen bitch, you keep running your mouth like that, it's gonna get you fucked up you little b-" you cut off Yunho in his sentence, "Oh for crying out loud, you guys say that shit, but then you don't do a damn thing about it.

So far all you did was chase me around the school like a bunch of animals, and then when you caught me , all you did punch me a couple of times, threaten me, and left." You chuckled, "Like come on, you guys are pathetic."

"Guys, she's right" Wooyoung sucked his teeth. The read of ATEEZ looked at him with both shock and confusion written on their faces. "We've been going to easy on her guys, we gave her couple of punch to the face and she still won't learn, I say we do more." Wooyoung smiled at the groups who finally understood what he meant.

Agreed , I want this bitch to see what it feels like to have something be smacked up against her head, but instead of a stapler, I want it to be with a brick" San stares you down. "Ah Im so scared" you sarcastically. "Look whatever you're gonna make it quick alright I really don't wanna be here with you guys anymore" you replied blankly.

" We want everyone to see what happens when you constantly fuck with us, including your little friend, Yuji." he chuckled. " Yea, well I mean she did try to warn you, but you just didn't listen, did you?" Wooyoung shook his head at you then chuckled. " Well, I'm not the type to listen to a persons warnings, mkay?" You sassed. "I don't care about the consequences."

You laughed while shrugging your shoulders. San then walked up to you, placing his hand on your chin, making you look up at him. "If only you knew what that mouth of yours can get you into." San smirked while shaking his head, you on the other yanked your chin away from San's grip.

" Oh my goodness, I honestly don't care, at this point in my life, I honestly don't care if I live or die." You shrugged, " So, hurt me all you want I don't care, you can beat me up, torture me, I mean shit you guys can even kill me if that's what you want, do whatever I couldn't care less." Hongjoong raised his eyebrows at you and grinned.

"Now again I say, let me go, so I can go home a sleep." You ordered. "You're a little fucked up in the head aren't you." Hongjoong replied walking up to you. Hongjoong did a shoo-ing hand motion toward Seonghwa, letting him know to step away, Seonghwa nodded in response and walked over to the rest of Ateez.

"Fuck you." sweetheart." Hongjoong chuckled, "But you pushed me away and the only thing I managed to get was a kiss, it's a shame." Hongjoong moved away from your ear and was now looking into your eyes, "You would've had the best time of your life in there with me." And with that Hongjoong winked and moving away from your face.

They all looked at you skeptically as they think about what you just said. But then they all look at each other, then nodded and signaled Seonghwa unpinned you from the wall.

Seonghwa hesitated but then sighed as he began unpinning you, huffing in irritation clearly upset that he didn't get to do anything to you as San put his arm around his shoulder.

"So with that being, since you don't care what we do to you, I guess all we can say before we let you go is..." Hongjoong came close to your face and said, "Good luck, little one." he looked at you with a smirk on his face.

"You're the little one." You then stuck out your tongue and spit at him cause some spit to get on Hongjoong's face. Hongjoong took deep breath before charging at you until Seonghwa stopped him midway. "Calm down and wait til tomorrow, she'll get what she deserves" Seonghwa eyed you up and down.

Seonghwa then signaled Hongjoong to walk away from you, but while Seonghwa began walking away, you noticed that Hongjoong was standing still in front of you, eyeing you up and down before he chuckled and proceeded go back to his group. And you watch as ATEEZ and began walking away fading into the darkness of the street in front of you." Assholes" you mumbled as you turned around and began walking home.

🐈‍⬛ ྀི

You got dress after you got out of the shower and began climbing onto your bed when you got a phone call from Yuji.

You: "Hey Yuji, wassup."

Yuji: "OMG Y/n are you alright, I saw what happened to you.

Y/N: "Wait how did you see what happened to me."

Yuji: "Some guy recorded it and posted it, he also sent it to everyone in the school."

You: "Of course he did, but yeah I'm good, I guess."

Yuji: " Y/n seriously I think you should just leave them be or apologize because I'm getting really worried for you and I really don't wanna see you get hurt."

You: " Yuji, chill out I'm fine okay I don't care about what they do to me."

Yuji: "Well, I do and I really want you to see that."

You: " Yuji, you're really over reacting about this whole situation."

Yuji: " Overreacting, I care about you Y/n and I don't want to see you get hurt by them anymore."

You: " How could you possibly care for me Yuji? You've only known me for two whole straight days, it just doesn't make sense to me."

Yuji: " Y/n I think you need to realize that there are people who care about you, like your mom, me, and your family."

You: "My family doesn't give a damn about me, my mom honestly just tolerates me, you're just in my life temporarily here."

Yuji: "Temporarily, What is that supposed to mean?"

You: " Well, yeah. I mean who would honestly want to be friends with me, huh?"

Yuji: " Me, I would want to be friends with you. Do you not think that anyone would wont to?"

You: " Yeah actually, everyone fucking hates me Yuji. Why do you even want to be friends with me huh?"

Yuji: "Because Y/n, you're a cool person. When I saw you, your hair, and your style, I immediately thought, holy shit, this girl looks badass as fuck, I need to be friends with her."

You: " Yuji you don't know what you're talking about and you're making a fool of yourself for hanging out with me and wanting to be friends with me?"

Yuji: "Well, then I guess I'll be a fool."

You: " Yuji, you can be serious right now, Ugh whatever, something tells me that you're not gonna let up that easily so, are you sure you wanna be friends with me?"

Yuji: "Yeah, dude I wanna be friends with you Y/n, look, you need to be more positive, okay? Everyone is not gonna hate you, unless you make them, and well, I guess you kinda already did that."

You: " Ha, yeah I kinda did, huh? Well, Mingi was being a jerk and clearly scared the kid to death."

Yuji: "Yeah I know, but what about when you trash talked them yesterday, hit one of them today with a stapler, and then threw food on all of them during lunch, huh?"

You: "Yeah okay, I guess that was all my doing. But, anyways it's to late to turn back now so, might as well just along with whatever is gonna happen to me for the school year anyways."

Yuji: "But, Y/n you-."

You: "Yuji, I'll be fine trust me alright. I'm not scared okay, i got this, i'm ready."

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