#Produce 48 Sorry Not Sorry

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

apologies in advance but my agenda now and henceforth will be getting as many people into The Wingfeather Saga as possible. I Will be the best publicity this show could ever want and if it results in restraining orders being taken against me, then at least I will know that I have done everything I could.

[necessiteez]

HONGJOONG SMUT FIC RECS LIBRARY

disclaimer: I do not own any of these works and they do not represent the real kim hongjoong. all rights belong to the respective writers who made them.

everything listed will be only hongjoong x reader (fem/male/gn) pairing and it will contain suggestive/smut themes. if it includes another member, I will also indicate it. fics will be categorized into aus so it will be easy to find.

I won't be including mtls, bullet lists, and other members' fics. if you are looking for recs with different members I'm sure other atinys have posted their own lists. These are all personal favorites and I'll only be including tropes/aus that I'm comfortable with (there won't be a/b/o, master kink, hybrid aus etc. sorry).

lastly, please let the writers know if you love their works so we can enjoy more of their content. have fun reading!

1. First Floor

˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬 you are here ໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

1.5 Secret Room

˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

2. Second Floor

˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

2.5 Banned Books

˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬 ???????? ໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

3. Third Floor

⚠︎UNDER CONSTRUCTION⚠︎

✶ - favorites

╔══ first♕floor ══╗

「 ✦ Vampire!Hongjoong ✦ 」

✶ Honey and Blood - @nateezfics (wc 8.6k)

In the Night feat. Seonghwa - @ja3hwa (wc 2.53k)

✶ People, Running poly, multi-chapter- themoonlightfae on ao3 (wc 50k+)

Sweet Trouble feat. Wooyoung - Atiny_DazzlingLight on ao3 (wc 6.2k)

vampire! hongjoong - @xuchiya

✶ Delicious feat. Seonghwa - @jagibangbangchan (wc 5k)

「 ✦ Friends with Benefits!Hongjoong ✦ 」

✶ I Wouldn’t Have It Any Other Way - @severetimetravelnerd (wc 9k+)

Leave Me With Nothing - @min-gis (wc 5.7k)

✶ Mine feat. Seonghwa - @smileysuh (wc 3.4k)

Naked Truth - @essenteez (wc 6.1k)

Late Night Rendezvous PART 1 - @sanjoongie (wc 1k)

Nightclub Affair PART 2 - sanjoongie (wc 3k)

Voicemail - TgemstoneT on ao3 (wc 3.4k)

「 ✦ Sugar Daddy!Hongjoong ✦ 」

✶ Wetting Your Lips - @k-hotchoisan

Avaritia - @hwaightme (wc 8.3k)

Baby Said feat. Seonghwa - @destiny-fics

Taken - @hwanchaesong (wc 8k)

Never Too Much - @iwannasuckyourmonstercock

「 ✦ Incubus/Demon!Hongjoong ✦ 」

✶ Say My Name - twinmoles on ao3 (wc 7.6k)

Incubus! Hongjoong - sanjoongie (wc 2k)

The King chapter from a series- @destiny-fics

The Library of Illusions - Restricted Section finale of a series - @kwanisms (wc 9.6k)

✶ Jealousy, Jealousy - destiny-fics

The King's Games series - @hanatiny

Their Pretty Pet feat. San, Seonghwa- @written-in-flowers (wc 7k)

The King of Rot chapter from a series - pearlypearlypearl on ao3 (wc 8k)

Demon Line feat. San, Seonghwa - HalaHollow on ao3 (wc 4.7k)

Day 1 - @ocean-ai (wc 2.8k)

✶ Wings and Thorns - @kitten4sannie (wc 3.4k)

Hotel California part 7 poly,multi-chapter - mint-yooxgi (wc 9.9k)

✶ Paradise Gardens part 15 (Hotel California 2nd volume) - mint-yooxgi (wc 23k)

Inferno - pyeonghongrie (wc 1.6k)

Fallen Angel feat. Yeosang- darkmulti

Devil Eyes part 1 - @hwashotcheeto (wc 2.3k)

Devil Eyes part 2 - hwashotcheeto (wc 1.8k)

All Hands on Me - k-hotchoisan

「 ✦ Hongjoong at the Studio ✦ 」

includes: Producer! Hongjoong, Idol! Hongjoong

✶ Sharing is Caring feat. Mingi - @byuntrash101 (wc 5.2k)

0:126am At His Studio - @sanflowerseeds

✶ Audio Angel - @marigold-doms

Make You Feel Better - @hongthoven (wc 3.2k)

Studio Sessions feat. Jongho - Atiny_DazzlingLight on ao3 (wc 5k)

To Make an Album - @bambikisss

✶ Make You Cry for Me (When I Put My Lips on You) - wonuha on ao3 (wc 5.7k)

Studio Time feat. Mingi - @yuta-senpai (wc 1.9k)

✶ Public/Recorded Sex feat. Wooyoung - @hongism (wc 4k)

Fragile - @ilwonuu

Attention feat. Seonghwa - @beginningofwonderland

22:48 - @beatteez

Two's Better Than One feat. Mingi - @ateezscupid

After Hours - nateezfics (wc 500)

「 ✦ Soft!Hongjoong ✦ 」

includes: Soft Dom! Hongjoong, Service Top! Hongjoong, Needy! Hongjoong, lots and lots and lots of praise my favorite

Morning Haze - nateezfics (wc 1.4k)

✶ All Mine - hongthoven (wc 2.6k)

✶ Oxygen - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 820)

✶ Addicted - @justaaveragereader (wc 1.8k)

HJ & Shibari - @mia-tiny (wc 729)

Precious - @latte-fairytaekwoon (wc 3k)

✶ Pretty Pink - nateezfics (wc 2k)

My Angel - @mirror-juliet

✶ You're My Desire - hongism (wc 1.3k)

Day 17: Body Worship - @ateezreactionsandscenarios (wc 1k)

Scream It Louder - atinywooyoung on a03

Keep Me Close - crimsonbubble

Early Mornings - ddeongsami on ao3 (wc 3.3k)

✶ Good Morning Captain - iguessireadfanficnow on a03 (wc 2k)

✶ Sleep Better - @tinyidle (wc 2k)

Need You - @luvryeo (wc 500)

✶ Untitled drabble- @atinycafe (wc 900)

Stay - atinycafe (wc 1.2k)

Be Hongjoong's cockslut - k-hotchoisan

Take It Easy gn!reader- ocean-ai (wc 700)

✶ Through It All feat. Mingi - @felixsramen

Glad You Came - @frenchkisstheabyss (wc 1.8k)

A Hazy Evening gn!, high sex- cheollipop (wc 1.8k)

Untitled drabble - byuntrash101

* First Time

Philoselene - @ncteez

Untitled drabble - k-hotchoisan

✶ First Time - whatudowhennooneseesyou (wc 2k)

「 ✦ Non-Human!Hongjoong ✦ 」

✶ Here Were Fairies fairy!hongoong - pearlypearlypearl on ao3 (wc 10k)

Ugly Dragon dragon!hongjoong- @thelargefrye (wc 2k)

✶ Shells mermaid!hongjoong - @last-words-ofashootingstar (multi-chapter)

Something Sinister feat. Seonghwa- @hansols-yoda-boxers (wc 5.2k)

Day 3: Mirror Sex Grim Reaper!Hongjoong - sanjoongie (wc 1.8k)

Project Omen dragon!Hongjoong feat. Wooyoung- @atzfilm (wc 40k)

Drowning in Pleasure siren!Hongjoong- @twisted-tales-of-all (wc 2.3k)

🆕✨ Gaze of Stone gorgon!Hongjoong - @ilovejeongintoo (wc 5k)

「 ✦ Bad Boy!Hongjoong ✦ 」

includes Goth, Emo, Punk dark aesthetic Hongjoong

✶ Ohmami - bambikisss

Dark Kiss part 1 - latte-fairytaekwoon (wc 5k)

Dark Kiss part 2 - latte-fairytaekwoon (wc 8.5k)

Ugh, As If - @ennysbookstore (wc 11k)

Ugh, As If bonus 1 - ennysbookstore (wc 5.4k)

Ugh, As If bonus 2 - ennysbookstore (wc 5.5k)

˖ ࣪⭑last updated 07/05/24 ˖ ࣪⭑

[ellecdc]

Hiiiiii! I love your work sm!

I was wondering you would please be able to write something where the reader has a lot of restless energy and only feels calm around James?

It could be just James any pairing with James that you feel like! Thank you so much for filling the world with your beautiful stories! <3

soooooo I asked Liz first before I did this, but I've changed the pairing a bit in hopes that it would help combat my writers block - it's taken me longer to complete but I hope I've done the request justice even if it's not with our sweet Jamie <3 <3

Sirius Black x Potter!reader who feels like she's too much

CW: a little bit of misogyny/internalized misogyny, hyperactivity/trouble focusing

You’d recited the eleventh step of brewing the felix felicis potion silently in your head when you realised you were being called upon in class. 

“Miss. Potter.” Professor McGonagall called out, causing your head to snap to attention from where you’d been gazing out the window. “Are the birds outside more interesting than my lecture of Transfiguration?”

Yes.

“No, Professor.” You answered quickly as a few students around you snickered.

“Then I should expect your attention to be at the front of the class, Miss. Potter.”

“Yes, Professor.” You mumbled quietly as you sank into your chair, pinning your gaze to the board in front of you as you zoned out.

It wasn’t McGonagall’s fault; but Transfiguration was boring, at least to you.

Discussing the ‘intricate spell work and wand movements’ required to transfigure a button into a butterfly was childs play when one was already an animagus. You could probably [and may very well] produce butterflies in your sleep.

But she didn’t know that, she couldn’t know that.

So now, your knee was bouncing underneath your desk and your brain wasn’t fairing much better.

Sitting here and listening to McGonagall drone on about stuff you already knew couldn’t hold your attention, and it wasn’t long before you were eavesdropping on the two Ravenclaws gossiping behind you.

“I thought she was seeing the older Black?”

“She is, but that’s what he said!”

“I think he’s lying.”

“Honestly, I don’t believe 75% of the things to come out of Lockharts mouth.” 

Oh yeah, there had been a rumour that you had 'snogged Gilderoy Lockhart’ in a broom closet last week. 

You and Sirius had laughed and laughed about that. 

James didn’t find it nearly as funny though and charmed Gilderoy’s hair Gryffindor red for 48 hours. 

That was pretty intricate charm work now that you were thinking about it - you’ll have to ask your brother to teach it to you.

Perhaps some of the wand work would look similar to Transfiguration spells so McGonagall wouldn’t know you’re not paying attention.

Shit. You weren’t paying attention. 

You moved your eyes back to McGonagall who was still droning on about…well, Transfiguration, likely, though she had her eyes trained on you.

Dammit. You’d been caught. 

Your brain had been working in overdrive to keep your eyes glued to the professor that by the time class had ended, you realised you had been clenching your fists so hard that you’d created crescent shape indents in the palm of your hands. 

“Miss. Potter, a word?”

Oh, Godric. 

You heard a few classmates snicker again as you moved towards the professor with your tail tucked between your legs.

“It appears I had a difficult time capturing your attention today?” She asked; eyes and tone holding her same intensity, but a small uptilt in the corner of her mouth.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I assure you it’s not you; I just-”

“You’re a bright girl, Y/N, and I am quite aware that this level of Transfiguration may very well be below your level of capabilities, but I cannot allow you to set a precedent for daydreaming in my class. I have a reputation to uphold, afterall.”

“Yes, Professor.” You agreed readily. 

“Just try to daydream less obviously, okay Miss. Potter?” She offered you gently with a soft smirk. 

“Of course, Professor. I’m sorry, thank you.” You sputtered before you were rushing out of the room with what felt like a furious blush at being so clearly transparent in your restlessness.

Professor McGonagall was being patient with you but you doubted she understood you at all; you doubted she’d ever been anything but the dutiful, attentive witch that she is today. Her knee probably ever bounced under the table, her nail beds were probably never shredded, she probably never had to be called on in class because her mind was so clearly elsewhere. 

A sense of shame surged through you at that; you weren’t doing enough yet you were still too much. 

You knew James had a similar experience to you but it was different for him.

It was different because he was the enthusiastic, charismatic Gryffindor quidditch captain who exuded joy and excitement.

It was different because boys were supposed to be energetic and boisterous. 

“You need to sit still, behta’; this is not lady like.” Your auntie had scolded you as you and James raced around cousin Aparna’s wedding ceremony. 

You had been having fun - both you and James - before then. Neither of you understood why the fun had to stop, least of all why it was okay for James but not for you.

It set a precedent. 

It coloured every area of your life growing up; laugh, but not as loudly as James. Joke, but not as often as James. Shine, but not as bright as James.

And despite all of that, you never blamed him; he never discouraged you from being anyone but yourself. 

You loved that about James, though, he seemed to have enough love for everybody, even if they had a hard time loving themselves. 

You wish you could be more like that.

Be more like James, but not as much as James.

Fuck, this was exhausting. 

You hadn’t realised how fast your mind had been racing until you were standing outside of the boys dormitory in Gryffindor tower chewing aggressively on your lips as you picked away the skin of your nail beds. 

You shouldn’t bother them; you were too much.

Too much, too much, too much. 

They already had James to deal with; James was enough.

He was a lot, but not like you.

He was a lot, but never too much. 

And he was there first; he was their friend first.

And maybe Sirius was having a good day? Maybe he’d been having a good day and then you’d be showing up and ruining it.

Ruining it by being too much.

No, you shouldn’t be here. Perhaps you should leave.

But you couldn’t bring your legs to move fast enough before the door was being yanked open and Peter nearly crashed into you. 

“Whoa, Y/N. I’m sorry! Merlin, you scared me.” 

“I’m sorry, Pete.” You offered quickly. “I was just leaving.”

“Oh, hey bug!” James called from the room, leaning over on his bed so he could see you around Peter’s frame. 

“Hey Jamie.” You called quietly, acquiescing to Peter’s extended arm as he invited you into the room. 

Sirius sat up at the sound of your arrival, putting his book beside him on his bed while he smiled at you.

His smile faltered a tad when he saw the state of you, however.

You shouldn’t be here.

“Hey gorgeous.” Sirius offered softly. “How was your day?”

You looked over at Remus who was looking at you sympathetically, and James who was looking at you worriedly. 

“It was okay, how about yours?”

“Better now that you’re here.” He responded salaciously, offering you a wink when you visibly flushed at the attention.

“Prongs, why don’t we go see what Lily’s up to?” Remus offered pointedly, standing to gather his homework and nudging James in the side. 

“Great idea! I’ve been wanting to try out this new charm I learned that turns everything around us the colour of her hair. It’s so gorgeous - her hair, that is - don’t you think? I’ve never seen anything like it, Moony. I want everything I own to be that same shade of auburn. Would I look good wearing auburn? You know what, don’t answer that; I don’t want to know. I was also thinking-” James’ voice trailed off as Remus and Peter shared a knowing look behind James’ back and followed him out the dormitory door before closing it behind them.

You turned back to see Sirius looking at you intently; his expression so soft that you weren’t sure any of his friends had seen the likes of it before.

“Can I have a hug?” Sirius asked, opening his arms in invitation which you readily accepted.

You had barely dropped your book bag before you were all but cradled in Sirius’ arms; the tension immediately oozing out of your bones as you melted into him. 

“Was today a Too Much day?” He asked as he pushed some hairs away from your face before moving his thumb to pull your bottom lip out from between your teeth.

“I was Too Much today.” You corrected, immediately embarrassed at the stinging in your eyes and sinuses.

Sirius quickly tsked in disapproval as he placed his free hand between your hands; his other which was supporting your weight sitting on your elbow as his thumb rubbed circles against your joint. “You’re never too much, my love.” 

You let out a heavy sigh as you turned your face towards his chest, bringing his hand up towards your mouth as you fiddled with the various rings on his finger.

“You know that, right?” He asked at your silence, pressing a gentle ‘boop’ with his finger to your chin. “You know you’re not too much?”

“I was too much in Transfiguration. I was too much for McGonagall.” 

“Did she say that to you?”

“It appears I had a difficult time capturing your attention today?” “I cannot allow you to set a precedent for daydreaming in my class. I have a reputation to uphold, afterall.” “Just try to daydream less obviously, okay Miss. Potter?”

“No…” You admitted quietly, brushing the pads of Sirius’ fingers against your lips as you thought back to class. 

“No.” Sirius agreed; knowing that had been true before he’d even asked. “Because if there was anyone who was Too Much for McGonagall, it’d be me.” 

You chuckled then, finally bringing your eyes to meet Sirius’ striking grey one’s as he looked down at you. 

“You’re not too much, baby; you’re perfect.”

“You’re perfect.” You countered.

“You’re a liar.”

You shook your head as you removed one of your hands from Sirius’ to place it on his jaw, relishing in the contented sigh that escaped his lips as he leaned into your touch.

“Perfect.” You reiterated.

He smiled and looked to be fighting against an eye roll before leaning down to press a kiss to your hairline. 

“We’re perfect for each other, yeah?” He conceded.

“Yeah.” You agreed readily.

“And girlfriend or not, I will fight you for the title of McGonagall’s Too Much, got it? I’ve put years of blood, sweat, and tears into that honour and I will not let you take that from me.”

You let out a boisterous laugh as you took a deep stretch, feeling the last tendrils of tension seep from your body before turning back towards Sirius. “Fine, but I want to keep the title of Flitwick’s Too Much.”

“Deal.”

“Great.” You smiled.

“Perfect.” Sirius whispered.

Yes… yes he was.

[0cta9on]

Can you do a fluffy smut fic of IVE's Wonyoung? In the fic, she is madly in love with her older manager whom has been by her side since her trainee days and loved her like his own little sister. Then she heard about his decision to transfer to another agency and began to panic. She begged him not to leave and confessed to him. However, OC rejected her due to the fear of destroying their close bond. WY eventually succeed in reassuring him of her love and both of them ended up making out.(OC is 5-6 years older than WY, hence the brother-sister dynamic relationship)

For the past three years, you served as the manager for the girl group sensation IVE, and you’ve loved every single second of it. The girls are cute and almost immediately started treating you like an older brother, which you gladly accepted. You’ve been a shoulder for them to cry on when things get tough and thanks to the pretty decent Starship Entertainment check, you often bought them little treats to tide them over in between schedules. They were like your little family - six little sisters that you love like they’re your own blood. Unfortunately, you might be saying bye to your little family soon.

Your footsteps echo along the corridor of Starship’s building as you pace nervously back and forth. As your contract with the company runs out, others have been reaching out and offering manager positions to you. Nothing has interested you so far, mainly just offers from small companies looking for an experienced manager to take care of their rookie groups. That is, until this morning, when you received a ludicrous offer from a larger company that would set you up for the rest of your life. You would be a fool not to take it - but that would also mean leaving behind the girls you have cared for all these years. 

A sudden jab to the side of the ribs makes you jump. “Jesus Christ, what th-” You turn around to face the perpetrator, only to see Wonyoung laughing at you.

“You should see your face oppa, that was hilarious!” She exclaims. Normally, you would laugh along and scold her playfully, but the thought of having to break the news about your potential departure fills you with an overwhelming sense of dread.

“What’s wrong, oppa?” Wonyoung asks, noticing your uncharacteristically serious expression.

Out of all the girls, Wonyoung is the one you’ve known the longest. You first met her when she was preparing for Produce 48, and you watched her grow and mature ever since. To outsiders, she is the epitome of success, but you know better than anyone just how much pain she’s experienced to get to this level. With how strong your bond is, you can’t even imagine how much it would crush her to tell her that you’re leaving.

You relinquish a heavy sigh deep within your lungs. “L-look, I-” The words struggle to make themselves known, writhing inside your gut as you stare deep into Wonyoung’s concerned eyes. Without another thought, you pull her into a tight embrace, more for yourself than for her.

“Hey, it’s okay, oppa,” she soothes, rubbing your back. “You can tell me.”

You instinctively tighten your grip on her, afraid that this’ll be the last time you get to hold her like this. “I got an offer this morning… from another company. The salary they’re offering would help me out a lot, so I-”

“You’re leaving?!” Wonyoung pulls away slightly to look you in the eyes. It feels like a knife stabs you in the heart as you stare back at her teary gaze.

“Y-yeah, I am…” You utter regretfully. She fights back a sob as she hits your chest, hurting your soul more than it does your actual body.

“B-but you can’t leave!”

“I’m sorry, Wonyoung, but Starship-”

“Screw Starship! What about IVE? What about me?” Tears begin to flow uncontrollably down her cheeks. All those years of consoling her and being by her side, yet the one time she needs you the most is when you’re about to leave her. Being the cause of her tears hurts you more than you’ll ever know.

“Wonyoung, I-”

“I love you!” She exclaims, glaring through her misty eyes.

“I love you guys too, but-”

“NO!” Her voice echoes loudly through the corridor, pushing you back a few steps. Always the epitome of prim and proper, you have never seen Wonyoung scream like this. A deep, unspoken ache reflects in her eyes as you start putting the pieces together. 

“I-I… I love you… Like, really love you… I want to be with you a-and hold you tightly… I want to kiss you and feel like I’m the only woman for you… I-I just… I love you so, so much… You can’t leave me like this…”

You freeze in disbelief, unsure of what to think or feel about her sudden confession. You always made sure not to develop any feelings for the girls as that could end up badly for the both of you. However, you can’t deny that you’ve been seeing Wonyoung differently as of late. The way she carries herself with such professionalism and confidence, how hard she words behind the scenes for herself and for the rest of IVE, you can truly see just how beautiful of a person she is, both inside and out. Taking this job would be the chance of a lifetime, but a person like Wonyoung only comes around once in a lifetime. You would be a fool to let her go.

You gently cup her cheeks, wiping away her tears with your thumbs. “It’s okay, Wonyoung. I’m not going anywhere.” She breaks down and begins sobbing into your chest. Your mind suddenly feels lighter now that you’ve made up your mind. In fact, you almost feel ridiculous for almost choosing money over the family that you found three years ago.

“You’re really not going to leave?” Wonyoung asks you after calming down a bit. You shake your head, a hopeful smile growing on your face, before she wraps her arms around your head, pressing her lips against yours. Subconsciously, you have been waiting for this kiss for years and you aren’t about to let it go so easily. The scent of her strawberry shampoo combined with her soft, marshmallow lips brings you to a new high you’ve never experienced before.

As you break the kiss, the heartbroken girl is swiftly replaced by the bright and lovely Wonyoung that you’re used to. She giggles as you kiss her cheeks, getting rid of any leftover tears. Suddenly, Wonyoung takes your hand, a mischievous twinge in her eye further emphasized by an alluring bite in her lip.

“Since you’re not leaving anymore, I think we should celebrate. Come with me,” she says before dragging you along the corridor. She peeks through one of the doors before pulling you inside, locking the door behind her. As you look around the small room, you notice a bunch of foam padding lining the walls, along with a piano and a couple chairs.

“This is one of the solo vocal practice rooms,” she explains. “No one outside will be able to hear us, no matter how loud we are.” A lightbulb goes off in your head as you turn to her, both shocked and turned on. Wonyoung’s cheeks turn a light pink as you look her up and down.

“I-I mean, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want-” You stop her, bringing a finger to her lips.

“I want to do it. I want you,” you assure her. She smiles brightly as she pulls you in for another kiss, this one much steamier than the other. Your hands snake around her petite waist, bringing her as close as you physically can. Her gentle breath starts to get heavier, gracing your cheeks, and the warmth in your chest continues to grow until it threatens to burst from your skeleton. You want nothing more than to love this girl as much and as hard as you can, pushing her into the padded wall with the fervor of a new sun on an early morning.

Wonyoung strokes your cock over your jeans, teasing you with her fingertips. You respond in kind by grazing her thigh with your fingernails, causing her body to shiver beneath you. You break the kiss and rest your forehead against hers to catch your breath, the final look before the leap. She gazes at you with fondness and desire, and you feel lucky knowing you’re the only man that will ever receive that look from her. Tentatively, she unzips your pants, audibly gasping as she looks upon your cock for the first time, unintentionally inflating your ego. You watch with bated breath as Wonyoung kneels in front of you, slowly stroking you with her soft hands and placing gentle kisses along your length, staining it with her lip gloss.

“Does that feel good, oppa?” She asks, searching for approval.

“Yes, that feels so good, baby,” you moan, brushing your hands through her silky hair.

“Mmm, I like it when you call me baby. Keep saying it.” Wonyoung flashes you a smile before taking you into her mouth, making you shiver like the first time you step into a cold pool. Her thick, glossy lips eagerly sucking your cock combined with her big, round eyes looking up at you brings you to all new heights of arousal.

“Holy shit baby, you’re amazing,” you compliment. In response, Wonyoung plants her hands on your thighs, attempting to take your entire length down her throat at once, her gags filling the entire room. You almost feel bad for the people walking by who don’t get to hear this beautiful chorus reserved for you.

Eventually, Wonyoung stumbles backwards, choking for air as saliva drips down her chin. She reaches for your hand, and you gladly help her up, anticipating what will happen next. With a wink, she plants her hands against the wall, sticking her ass out towards you. Her warm yet seductive gaze pulls you in, promising a moment you’ll never forget.

“I’ve waited for this moment for so long,” she says, biting her lip. You flip up her skirt, revealing her cute ass for the first time, and peel off her damp panties. The scent of her dripping sex fills your brain, drawing you towards her even more. As you slowly insert yourself into her, you gauge Wonyoung’s reaction, making sure you’re not hurting her.

“Is that okay, baby?” You whisper into her ear. She nods, wincing slightly.

“S-so good, keep going.”

You hold onto her waist for support, eventually bottoming out inside of her. Her warm walls grasp you tightly, still adjusting to your size. After a moment, Wonyoung nods, prompting you to start thrusting into her. Slow yet firm at first, as her moans begin to escalate, you increase the power of your thrusts until it devolves into pure, unbridled pounding.

“A-ah! Yes! F-feels so g-good!” She groans in pleasure. “K-kiss me!”

You do as she says, capturing her lips into a sloppy kiss as you continue fucking her from behind. You exchange breaths, warming up each other’s skin, filling your nostrils with each other’s pheromones. In your mind, nothing else matters except making love to the woman before you. You want to spend the rest of your life loving her in every way you can, and when you’ve done it all, you want to invent new ways of loving just so you can show her how much she means to you. A familiar pressure begins to build up in your stomach as you gaze into Wonyoung’s eyes, half-lidded as she succumbs to your passion. You take her lips a final time before shooting your seed deep into her womb, cementing your bond forever. She follows soon after, nearly collapsing as her orgasm renders her legs into jelly.

“O-oh my god… That was better than I imagined,” she says. The two of you share a gentle laugh, holding onto her with no intention of letting her go ever again.

[predestinatos]

cinnamon taste ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙ — CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x female!reader

summary: your best friend showing up at your apartment isn't the only surprise you had that day

tags: best friends to lovers, giddy and shy charles, sooo much fluff, christmas vibes, improvised and creative mistletoe confession

words: 2.6k

note: someone requested something along these lines and i had sooo much fun writing it!! my heart is full and warm... rlly hope u guys like it too and happy holidays for those who celebrate

The scent of cinnamon and apple filled your lungs as you entered your apartment door. You congratulated yourself on the good choice of incense, apparently, but also punished yourself for seemingly leaving the music on while you were out. Jazz-y Christmas songs were playing softly, your living room feeling like a daydream of warmth and coziness.

But that dream was soon shattered upon the realization that you had brought your phone with you – there was no way it was still connected to Bluetooth. Someone was in your house.

Before you had time to panic as you removed your gloves and jacket, a figure appears before you and spins you in the air, embracing you tightly. At first, you screamed, terrified. But then the figure placed you on the floor, continuously repeating “it’s me it’s me I’m sorry” while giggling.

You immediately recognized the voice – your best friend was wrapped in an apron, glasses on and remnants of flour on his messy brown locks. Immediately, your heart went from racing to galloping, fear replaced by happiness. However, before you could show the good part, you punched him slightly in the chest, the hit clearly not producing any sort of damage. “You are such an idiot, Charles! You almost killed me” you said, although a smile was creeping in your lips and eyes as he pulled you for a hug.

Despite how long you’ve known each other, the hugs always felt the same: earnest, meaningful, his heart beating next to your ear, hands wrapped around you like a warm caress. It felt like this when you were 10 and played together, when you were 15 and snuck out together, and now this. You weren’t expecting to see him, especially not this close to Christmas day.

“I thought I’d do something with the spare key you gave me when I crashed here for a few weeks,” he said, as if reading your thoughts, already jumping between wondering how he got in and when he did it. His eyes, filled with affection, seemed simultaneously nervous, registering your face as if in analyzing it carefully.

Before you had time to ask, he pulled your arm and guided you to the kitchen – your own kitchen – warmly telling you “I have a surprise.” You followed him and as you entered the small marble kitchen, the scent hit you even harder. It smelt of comfort, of a cozy campfire feeling, of sweet bakeries opened and filled with decorations, all inside your house. The kitchen itself was slightly messy, hinting at its use, and Charles stood in it proudly, grabbing some mittens to remove the delicious smelling content from the oven.

They were cookies, made in all possible shapes and sizes – some unidentifiable, as he clearly did them by hand. The image of them filled your heart, your best friend placing them on the counter as he checked if they were ready to be eaten, almost like a postcard waiting to be stilled in time. “For how long are you staying?” you asked, afraid of the answer.

That fear proved itself right as you saw his expression change suddenly, the smile leaving his eyes and remaining only on his lips, an attempt at feigning comfort where there could possibly be none. “The day after tomorrow” he said, after a small cough, acting as if it was nothing, trying to lessen the pain of not knowing when you’d see him again.

Just for that moment, you decided to shrug it off as well, to ignore the elephant in the room that were the less than 48 hours you had to enjoy each other’s company, the knowledge that the old times of friendship won’t come back. “Better eat all of those until then!” you said, in your best effort to showcase as little sadness as possible.

You opened one of your cabinets and removed two mugs from it, one of them farther away than expected. On your tiptoes, you reached for the red mug with a big C on it, with “clumsy” written underneath in small letters. It was reserved especially for Charles, a small part of him that remained untouched from the moment he left and would only be touched again when he came back – which wasn’t often. Upon seeing it, his smile lit up once again, dimples showing on his slightly flushed cheeks, his upper arm reaching to fix the glasses he was wearing as his hands were busy sprinkling cinnamon all over the biscuits.

Placing the just made hot chocolate on the small glass coffee table in your living room, you waited for Charles, who showed up holding a plate decorated with all of his creations, which he placed next to your mugs.

You wrapped around blankets as you sat on the floor, mimicking simpler times, nostalgia running through your veins as the liquid you drank ran through your throats. Charles’ eyes scanned your living room again, “did you decorate this all by yourself?” he asked, as he analyzed the matching patterns in your white Christmas tree and how well they fit with the honey tones of the decorations scattered carefully around the room.

“Depends,” you replied, smiling, “Do you like it?” He looked at you then, the same nervousness returning to his cheeks, red from something that couldn’t be the cold, given the warmth inside your apartment. For the first time since you knew him, his eyes studied your face in a way that made you look away timidly. “Yes it’s amazing” he replied, answering the question as a way to break the sudden tension, but creating an opposite effect.

“A friend helped me” you confessed to him, shrugging. “I don’t think you know him, he-” you were about to begin, but Charles’ eyes shot to you and then quickly to the content inside his mug, fidgeting as he did so. “He and his girlfriend, love decorations and had some extra stuff from their last year so they added a lot to this” you explained, emphasizing the word ‘girlfriend’ as if it needed to be, as if you owed your best friend an explanation or seal of approval that you weren’t aware of until now. You knew it was necessary, however, when you saw his shoulders relax at your words, chest rising and falling softly underneath his sweater.

You rested your head against his shoulders reassuringly, letting him know that he wouldn’t miss any detail of your life, that you’d always make sure to update him on everything. You weren’t sure that’s what he wanted but you hoped he would understand the sentiment behind it, and you were sure he did when he laid a soft kiss on the top of your head.

His body smelled of cinnamon itself, sweet and lovely, and you couldn’t help but pull him closer by the arm, feeling his warmth which you hadn’t for so long. “I missed you, Charlie” you said, smiling to yourself. “Me too, silly” he replied whilst slowly pushing you away and getting up. “Which reminds me, I have something for you.”

You looked up at your best friend, feeling the cold spot from where he previously was, as he ran hurriedly to one of your spare rooms – which could be called his room since that was all the use it had. “Why don’t you just give it to me and I’ll open on Christmas? I don’t want to jinx it!” you yelled from your sitting place, biting one of the tree-shaped biscuits he had prepared, amazed at its taste and softness.

he came back holding a small box in his hands, carefully wrapped and decorated with a red ribbon at the top. Pride was written all over his smile and gaze as he sat down in front of you, handing you the present as he grabbed one of his own biscuits. “Because,” he said, in between bites “this is very important and urgent” he continued, giggling excitedly. You could tell from his tone that his voice was overly excited, almost acting, but you didn’t want to push him, not when he stared at you anxiously, eyes big and expectant like a puppy. His giggles were quickly replaced by sudden seriousness as soon as your hands started unwrapping the present carefully, not even wanting to ruin the package.

You were faced with a box, beautiful and cushioned, its surface gorgeously reminding you of wine nights with the company of the man who seemed not to be able to sit still in front of you. “Open it” he said, swallowing hard and nervously, leaning closer and closer with your every movement. You complied, your own curiosity threatening to jump out of your mouth, hands shaking as Charles’ own breath seemed almost irregular.

Inside it, you saw a delicate crystal, green, red and clear, in the shape of a plant. Not a plant – mistletoe. It glistened beautifully and its fragility fascinated you. It was beautiful, and you remained speechless as you examined it. “Charlie it’s-” you started, though you had no words to describe what you were feeling. Of course, the gift was absolutely mesmerizing, a small token that was impossible to not notice. Yet, you didn’t exactly know what it meant.

Charles gave you no time to think about it before he moved awkwardly, getting closer to you, closer than usual even for you two. “Listen, I… Do you want to hang it somewhere?” he said, the question so sudden, like a window that opened quickly and let all the cold wind inside the room. You looked into his eyes and found yourself still unable to speak, resorting to a simple nod as you got up, the box still resting in your hands, and he followed your movements.

You decided to hang it carefully in one of the tallest branches of your Christmas tree, where the lights hit beautifully and made it the centerpiece, stealing all the attention from the star at the top. “It’s beautiful” you finally managed to say, along with an earnest thank you, and you were about to turn back to the warm blanket when his fingertips stopped you by softly resting on your wrist.

“Wait,” he started, barely moving. All movement you could witness came from his nostrils as he exhaled deeply, his gaze completely focused on you. “I need to tell you something” he continued, looking up at the gift he had just given you. Following his gaze, you realized what he meant. “Oh. Oh this was for someone else- it’s fine Charlie mistakes happen-” you began, rising to your tiptoes in order to remove the ornament, almost laughing at your own silliness.

Once again that night, Charles stopped you, laughing warmly. “God, you’re so silly sometimes,” he told you, and despite the cold toned color of his eyes, they expressed such warmth it took your breath away. “No, this gift is for you. That’s what I mean,” he said, stumbling across his every word, “I gave you this because you’re the one I want to experience this with. The whole mistletoe kissing thing. Maybe this is silly…” his hand flew to his neck awkwardly, reminding you of when he was younger and in high school, trying to impress some girl he had a crush on.

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant, nor what it could mean for your friendship in general. But you were sure you wanted to experience that moment with him as well, feel him closer to you than you ever did, your every muscle begging you to act. “Do it then” you dared him, your own nervousness coming out. You thought about how silly it was, your nervousness, given how old you two were, how much you had witnessed together, the moment so out of the ordinary yet seemingly so predictable, as if it was destined to happen.

At that, Charles’ eyes widened, but his whole body went into action. His hand went to your cheek as the other pulled you by your waist, eyes falling on your lips as if everything moved in slow motion. You placed your own hands on his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat as his lips fell on yours, so soft and familiar despite how unknown it all was. The sudden smell of chestnuts and ginger intensified as the room seemed to transform, how despite the warmth you almost felt snow falling on both of your bodies. Charles couldn’t get enough of you, his hand going from your cheek to the back of your neck, begging you for more, for the moment to last for as long as possible.

Like a magnet, your own hands caressed and pulled his hair incessantly, reassuring him that you weren’t going anywhere, as his heartbeat stabilized in calmness and comfort in how well your lips fit on his. His closeness was intoxicating, and you felt dizzy from how good you were feeling with his sheer presence, how right everything seemed to feel, how effortlessly he got you in your best mood.

Pulling away, you saw a smile which you had rarely seen in Charles’ face. It happened at his most happiest moments – when he won races, when he beat you at rock paper scissors when you were kids, when he got the best scores in spelling bees – it reached every muscle in his body and yours, so contagious was his cheerfulness.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he said, giddy and red from shyness, looking so innocent all of a sudden, despite his grip still on your waist. “I’ve been so confused, especially since the last time I stayed over. No one can make me feel like you do, and this is so hard to explain, and I don’t know how it got to this point but I have been thinking about it every day, about how good I feel when I am with you, how I just get so incredibly happy and-” you quieted his rambling by giving him a shy peck on his lips, giggling at how he stood motionless after it, eyes widened and eyebrows raised.

“I love you too” you told him, meaning every word, anxiously looking forward for the rest of your life.

[queenshelby]

The Price for Fame (Part One)

Pairing: Dark!Cillian Murphy x Innocent!Reader

Warning: Manipulation, Infidelity, Smut, Dub-Con, Age-Gap, Cillian is being a bully in this one. It's pure filth.

Just last month, you turned eighteen and moved to Los Angeles to pursue your acting career.

With the help of your friend, Florence Pugh, you scored a role in a new movie which was produced by several big names in the industry, including 48-year-old Oscar winner Cillian Murphy.

Bold enough to believe that life as an acclaimed actress could be yours, you traded the innocence of a rural and religious upbringing for this glitzy haven where fame and glamour wove a pernicious network but it did not take long for things to fall out of place when you screwed up big time on set.

The embarrassment settled in like a slow, tormenting burn as you messed up your lines during a critical emotional scene as much as ten times, causing the shoot to be cut off momentarily. The director, Damien Chazelle, tried to hold his composure but the frustration simmered below the surface. You knew already that he had it out for you, wanting another actress to take your space, and your failure to perform this scene was simply the last straw for him and possibly the end of your career. 

Thus, a quick huddle of the film's top players led to Cillian pulling you aside.

"Let's have a chat," he said coolly, those famous blue eyes impaling you with a steely glare. It was more of a command than an invitation.

"Sure, Cillian. I am so sorry about what happened on set," you stammered, knowing what this was going to be about. 

He was one of the producers of the movie and it was his investment at stake, so you cut right to the chase, "I know you're disappointed but I swear it won't happen again. Anything you want me to do, I just want another chance."

Cillian studied your face for a beat, his blue eyes so piercing you thought he could see right down into the depths of your very soul.

"Let's talk in my trailer, Y/N," he finally said, and began striding off and you followed close behind, unsure of what to expect once you entered his inner sanctum. 

"Listen, I'm getting some heat thanks to you," he began as he sat down and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his bent knees. "Damien wants  you out and I'm getting slammed on all sides for not firing you."

"Listen, I'm getting some heat thanks to you," he began as he sat down and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his bent knees. "Damien wants  you out and I'm getting slammed on all sides for not firing you."

Your heart dropped into your stomach, the implications clear as day. You had to somehow atone for the massive screw-up on set and convince Cillian that you were still a valuable part of this project.

"Please, just tell me what to do and I'll do it," you said, looking him straight in the eye. "I can't afford to lose this opportunity. I'll do whatever it takes."

The words hung heavy in the air and Cillian seemed to consider them before finally responding.

"Whatever it takes, huh?" Cillian repeated, as if mulling over your words. His gaze never left yours, and the intensity of it made you squirm in your seat. "Well, you are a young and attractive woman, Y/N and we could, potentially, come to some kind of arrangement that would keep you employed on this film."

The implications of his words sent a shock through your system. Was he suggesting what you thought he was suggesting?

"What... what kind of arrangement?" you stammered, hating how weak you sounded but unable to control it.

Cillian leaned back in his seat now, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, I think you know."

You shook your head in confusion. You didn't though, not really.

But the way Cillian was looking at you, like you were some sort of puzzle to be figured out, made you feel exposed and vulnerable.

"You need to be more specific," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Cillian leaned forward again; his gaze unwavering. "Alright then. Let me be clear. I want to have you in my bed, every night, sometimes even during the day, until we are done filming," Cillian said, his gaze intense.

"What?" you exclaimed, your voice barely above a whisper. "You want me to, uhm, like have sex with you?" you asked and Cillian nodded almost bluntly.

Your mind raced as you tried to process his words. Was this some kind of joke? It had to be, right? Except Cillian's expression was completely serious.

"I don't understand," you said finally, your voice shaking. "Why would you want that? You are married and I am much younger than you," you protested, still reeling from his outlandish request.

Cillian sighed and rubbed his temples before looking back at you. "I am married but my wife is not here, and I do have needs, so this seems like an easy solution for me. Plus, I won't deny that I find you attractive," he told you and you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. This was not what you had expected when you agreed to come to his trailer. Your mind raced as you tried to come up with a response that wouldn't ruin your career completely.

"I am flattered but I have a boyfriend and we were waiting until marriage, so I have never been intimate with anyone," you told Cillian, hoping that would put an end to this conversation. But instead of appearing taken aback, Cillian seemed almost pleased by this revelation.

"Really?" he said, with a cunning smile before carrying on. "Well, I can be gentle and, as I see it, no one needs to know about this arrangement. Not your boyfriend, not my wife, and especially not anyone on set," Cillian leaned in, whispering conspiratorially.  His piercing blue eyes bore into you, softening just slightly.

"I don't know. I don't think I can do this," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart was still racing, and your mind was swirling with indecision. On one hand, you couldn't afford to lose this opportunity, and on the other, you couldn't imagine betraying your boyfriend like this.

Cillian leaned back in his seat, studying you for a moment before speaking. "Look, Y/N, I understand your hesitation, but this is purely a business arrangement," Cillian said, his voice low and soothing as he tried to persuade you.

A silence fell between the two of you as you contemplated his words. The dilemma wrestling within you was palpable, the weight of the decision threatening to crush you.

His voice broke through the silence once more, "Think about it, Y/N. You need this role, and I need... well, I need something else."

Cillian's words lingered in the air, making you uncomfortable, and the thought of betraying your boyfriend's trust made your stomach churn.

"Okay, but you have to wear a condom and no kissing," you finally agreed, trying to put in some boundaries.

Cillian's face lit up with excitement as if he had just won a jackpot, but he quickly hid it with a mask of composure. "Of course, Y/N. Whatever makes you comfortable."

You felt violated by the sudden power shift, but you couldn't deny that Cillian was offering you a lifeline, an opportunity to save yourself from drowning in the cutthroat industry of Hollywood. You had come too far to throw it all away for principles that seemed so trivial now.

"Tonight, 8 o'clock at my house, wear something nice," Cillian instructed, before dismissing you with a wave.

The audacity of it all left you breathless. In no universe did you imagine that your innocence would be the currency for maintaining employment in this industry. Yet, here you were, walking away from his trailer, carrying the burden of a secret agreement that clashed heavily with your very soul.

***

Eight o'clock came around soon enough, and after hours of overthinking, you stood by Cillian's front door, wearing an elegant red dress and high heels. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you hesitated for a moment, hesitant to knock.

Cillian answered the door with a seductive smirk on his face. "Right on time," he drawled. His gaze raked over you, leaving a trail of discomfort in its wake. You murmured a soft greeting and stepped inside.

The terrace he was staying it for the duration of filming was nice, tastefully decorated and obviously very expensive.

Cillian led you to the living room where he handed you a glass of wine and whilst you did not usually drink alcohol, you decided tonight was different. You needed to calm your nerves and calm down your inhibitions. 

As you sipped on the red liquid, he gave you a tour of his house and, without losing too much time, he led you to his bedroom.

"Let's get this over with," you gasped quietly, trying to sound confident but your trembling voice betrayed your true emotions.

"Eager are we?" Cillian chuckled as you put down your half-finished wine and sat down on the edge of the mattress, noticing a packet of condoms and a bottle of lubricant on the nightstand.

"No, like I said, I just want to get this over with," you reiterated, biting your lower lip nervously. "I don't want this, but you do, and I want to keep my job, so let's just make this quick," you added, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Alright then," Cillian chuckled, that smug grin still on his face as he moved closer to you. Without losing any time, he pulled his t-shirt over his head before slowly undoing his belt. 

"Why don't you get down on to your knees and get me hard , hmm?" Cillian suggested, the lascivious look in his eyes causing you to shudder.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling repulsed at the idea of going down on him but before you could protest, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look up at him. "Don't pretend you don't want this," he growled, his hot breath on your face making you cringe.

"Okay," you nodded reluctantly, your voice barely above a whisper.

You sunk down to your knees on the plush carpet, feeling completely degraded and humiliated. You could feel the bile rising in your throat as you looked up at him, his crotch directly in front of your face.

Cillian's face was smug as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down along with his boxers. His cock sprang free, already semi-hard and pointing directly at your face.

"Go on then," he commanded gruffly, unaware that you had never done this before either. 

But you knew you couldn't refuse him. Not if you wanted to keep your job and avoid any negative consequences.

So with shaking hands, you reached up and wrapped your fingers around his thick shaft.

Cillian let out a low moan as you began to stroke him, your grip tight as you moved your hand up and down his length.  Your heart was pounding in your chest, and every movement made your stomach churn.

But you knew this was the price of maintaining your career, so you forced yourself to continue. 

Pre-cum glistened on the tip of his cock, an indication of his growing arousal and, even though you did not know what it was, you pulled away slightly.

"Now be a good girl for me and open your mouth ," Cillian demanded.

You hesitated again, feeling even more repulsed by the request. But you knew there was no room for hesitation or resistance, not if you wanted to keep your job and avoid any negative consequences. So, with trembling lips, you parted your mouth as wide as you could, trying to suppress the sick feeling rising up in your stomach.

"Now stick out your tongue," he ordered.

You did as you were told, sticking out your tongue and closing your eyes which is when Cillian collected some of his pre-cum with his index finger and smeared it on to your tongue.

You opened your eyes , still trembling as you stared up at him, hating every moment of this degradation. Cillian just smiled down at you before nodding for you to continue.

You reluctantly wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, wincing as the taste of salt and bitter muskiness filled your mouth. 

Cillian then grabbed a fistful of your hair, using it to guide his cock deep into your mouth. He pushed it in farther than you expected, causing you to gag.

"You're going to have to relax and take it all in," he said, his tone cruel and condescending. "Otherwise we're never going to get anywhere."

You swallowed hard, fighting the urge to vomit as you felt his cock hit the back of your throat.

"Sshh , deep breaths," Cillian cooed softly, tugging on your hair as he pulled his hips back and thrust forward again.

You kept your breathing steady and shallow, trying to prevent yourself from gagging on his length. Tears streamed down your cheeks as Cillian's rhythm grew quicker. He groaned with pleasure, his grip on your hair tightening.

Suddenly he pulled out of you, and the sudden emptiness caused relief to flood through you.

"I want you on all fours now, baby," Cillian growled, his voice husky with lust. "That way, I can see how your virgin hole stretches around my cock when I stick it in there."

You swallowed hard, feeling scared but still you complied. You reluctantly positioned yourself on all fours, your heart pounding in your chest as Cillian reached for the condom packet and lubrication.

Cillian tore open the condom packet with his teeth, rolling it down his hard shaft before squeezing out a generous amount of lubrication onto his fingers. He traced them teasingly over your dry folds, causing you to flinch at the unfamiliar touch.

"Please, just get it over with," you whimpered, your voice trembling as you braced yourself for the excruciating pain of losing your virginity.

Cillian chuckled at your eagerness, but you could hear the sarcasm behind it. "So eager to give up that sweet little cherry of yours, huh?" he asked as he positioned himself behind you, the head of his cock brushed up against your entrance.

"This might hurt a little, but I want you to relax and let me in," he said as he began to push himself inside of you.

You couldn't help but let out a loud gasp as the burning sensation of pain spread throughout your entire body. You couldn't believe that you were actually doing this, allowing yourself to be used like this, for nothing but your career.

"Just breathe," Cillian whispered in your ear as he continued to push deeper inside of you.

You felt him bottom out inside of you, and the feeling of fullness was almost too much to bear.

But before you could say anything, he began to thrust in and out of your tight hole, the friction causing a burning sensation to radiate throughout your body.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Cillian groaned, his hips snapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. You couldn't help but let out a loud gasp every time he entered you, feeling every inch of him as he stretched you open.

Sweat dripped down Cillian's forehead, his breath coming out in harsh pants as he continued to pound into you.

"And you are going to have that cock of mine inside you every day now," Cillian grunted, his voice hoarse as he continued to pump in and out of you.  His words made you feel dirty and cheap, but there was nothing you could do to stop him. You were trapped in this situation, trapped in this twisted arrangement between a successful actor and a desperate young actress trying to make it in Hollywood.

Cillian reached between your legs, his fingers finding your clit as he began to circle and rub, causing you to moan involuntarily. The mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, making it hard for you to catch your breath.

You came, fast, and then you were in a state of shock, unable to fully comprehend what was happening to you. The man behind you, Cillian, continued to thrust into you with no mercy, his balls slapping against your clit with each pump. His fingers were still manipulating your delicate button, and the combined sensations were building up deep within your core.

Cillian grunted, his pace increasing. You could feel his cock swell inside of you as he approached his own climax.

He then groaned loudly, his fingers digging into your hips as he slammed into you with a final thrust. You could feel him pulsating inside of you, the condom filling with his hot seed.

Soon after that, Cillian withdrew from you, and your body ached with the emptiness. He tossed the used condom to the side before collapsing onto the bed next to you.

"You impressed me tonight," Cillian said breathlessly as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

His body was slick with sweat, and his cock was still semi-hard against your thigh.

"I had to," you muttered, pulling away from his embrace. You couldn't bear the thought of being close to him after what just transpired between you.

Cillian chuckled softly, his breath hot against your neck. "I know, and I'm grateful," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss on the curve of your shoulder.

"I want you to go on the pill," he said, his voice firm. "I can't be bothered with condoms all the time, and I want to feel you bare. Can you do that for me?"

His request caught you off guard, but you didn't protest. You were already in too deep, and a part of you wanted to give him what he wanted.

"Okay," you murmured softly.

Cillian smiled at your response, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare thigh.

"Good girl," he whispered approvingly, before pulling you close for another bruising kiss before leaving you to clean yourself up and head back home.

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[minarisplaything]

The Producer: Second Audition ft. Huh Yunjin

A/N: you can consider this a one-shot to the main series or perhaps a glimpse into the future of what's to come. either way i wanted to post it because It honestly might be one of my favorite things i've written in a minute and i'm not sure when the next chapter installment will be. enjoy!

pairing: huh yunjin x m!reader/oc summary: After first evaluations don’t go as planned, PD-nim gets an unexpected visitor at his office. rating: Explicit

An unexpected knock at your door pulled you from the pile of documents on your table.

“Come in!” you called.

The past 48 hours had been a crash course in learning that while your uncle may have invested in modern facilities, he had not invested in modern record keeping. You and Jessica had already discussed hiring someone to help with converting everything to digital but for now the task was left up to you to sort through the records. A task that was proving tiresome at best. So when Yunjin poked her head through your door it was a welcome relief.

“Yunjin, what can I do for you?”

You didn’t feel as though you had a chance to truly get to know any of the girls as of yet. And with evaluations ongoing it made any attempts at breaking the ice even more tense. Except for Hyejoo who seemed unphased by anything, least of all your presence.

“PD-nim,” Yunjin greeted, her voice sounding surprisingly strained. “Do you have time to talk?”

“Of course. What’s on your mind?”

From what Jessica had told you of Yunjin she was quite the extrovert. And you had noticed it when seeing the girls interact with each other. But as she stood before you now she seemed almost nervous, apprehensive even; but there was a quiet determination in her eyes. Curious, you reclined back into your chair and eyed her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment before putting them behind her back.

“I wanted to talk about my evaluation.”

“Ah…”

“I was nervous and trying to impress you. I didn’t perform anywhere near my best,” she began to ramble. “And I know Lily and Chaehyun still have their evaluations coming up and I know they both have fucking amazing voices...”

You nearly choked on air the way she swore openly.

“Sorry,” she quickly amended before continuing, “I just don’t want you to think that this is the best I can do. I will do anything to debut. I need this and I want you to have the best impression of me.”

Fuck. This was the part of the job you were going to feel guilty about. Even the person who was usually cool, calm and collected was pouring her heart out in hopes that she wouldn’t be cut from the debut group. Is this why your uncle gave you this job? The old man was insane but he had a good heart. He wouldn’t have been able to stomach this but…then again you were barely stomaching this as it was.

When you snapped out of your thoughts you realized Yunjin had made her way from the front of your desk around to your chair. Swallowing thickly you couldn’t help but notice that the nervousness had seemingly left her body as she looked at you with lidded eyes. Every logical cell in your body was saying to do something, anything, and yet all you did was find your eyes drawn to her lips.

“Yunjin…”

“PD-nim” she interrupted you. She grabbed the arm of your chair, turning it so you could face her. “You know the girls keep talking about how handsome you are.”

“I don’t think…”

Before you could finish your sentence, Yunjin was sliding her body into your lap, straddling your legs. She straightened, pressing her lithe form against yours for a moment before sitting back onto your thighs so she could look at you. Here you had thought you were going to hear the plea of a desperate girl, now you were looking at a woman who was in complete control of what she was doing.

“Between you and me, who is your favorite?” her fingers danced along your chest, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, “You call tell me, I promise I won’t say. Is it Jimin-unnie? Or Chaewon-unnie?” She leaned close, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered you a secret, “I think you could fuck both of them if you wanted to.”

Your cock gave a guilty twitch at those words.

“Yunjin” you finally got out, finding your tongue, “This isn’t appropriate. And this isn’t how to secure your spot in the group.”

In response to you trying to put your foot down, Yunjin rolled her eyes. You opened your mouth to further chastise her only to fall short when she pulled the hem of her shirt over her head and tossed it to the ground. Her bare breasts were on display for you, puffy nipples staring you in the face as Yunjin looked down from her perch atop your lap, a smirk growing at your sudden silence.

She leaned forward, placing her arms lazily around your neck. She was so close that you could smell the perfume she wore. Did she wear that just for you? To further add to the intoxication? If you had any last words of resistance they were swallowed as Yunjin pressed her lips to yours. She took the lead, arching her body into yours as she kissed you. Her tongue ran along your bottom lip before slipping past your lips to explore your mouth. How had you ever fooled yourself into thinking this girl seemed timid when she entered your office?!

Head spinning, you tried to grasp some hold of the situation. Your hands found their way to her hips, telling yourself that you were intent on shoving her off of you. Yet somehow shoving her off turned into gripping her tighter. Yunjin moaned into your mouth approvingly, grinding her hips atop your growing erection. For a long moment that was all that existed. Slowly losing yourself in her aggressive kiss while she continued to rock her hips against yours. There was soon no denying your physical arousal, and by the way you were gripping her hips it was clear you had mentally given over to it as well.

It was Yunjin who ultimately broke the kiss, her nose brushing against yours. “PD-nim, you’re wearing too much clothes.”

As if to emphasize her point her hands moved towards your belt buckle, undoing it with deft hands before unbuttoning your pants.

“Yunjin, you know this won’t guarantee your spot right?”

Yunjin scoffed, giving you a wry look, “PD-nim you really know how to talk to a lady you know that?” her fingers fished your cock out of your boxers, giving the girthy meat a squeeze that caused you to grip her tight she might bruise. “And you really shouldn’t say things you don’t mean.”

Her cockiness might’ve been infuriating in any other circumstance. In this case, however, when she was holding the evidence of her ability in her hand there was little point in maintaining a stern facade. Seeing the resignation on your face a devilish smile spread across Yunjin’s features. She slowly stroked your cock, pre-cum already dripping from the tip. You should’ve been more ashamed than you were. In truth you wanted more.

It seemed so did Yunjin, she sat up slightly, beginning to move herself atop your length when there was a sudden knock at your door.

“Are you busy?”

“That’s Jessica,” you blurted out in a hushed whisper.

It only lasted a second but you could have sworn you saw a look of panic on Yunjin’s face. A moment of chaos ensued ultimately ending up with Yunjin being stuffed topless under your desk with your hard cock still out but hidden from view.

“Kind of,” you called back. “What did you need?”

“Can I come in? It’s easier to talk about it in person.”

You glanced down under the desk to see Yunjin who had already taken to sucking on your cock like a lollipop despite the situation you were currently in. This girl. And where was her shirt?! You briefly looked around, spotting it and tried to drag it out of site with your foot.

“Uh, sure. Y-yeah, come in.”

Jessica entered, dressed in a form fitting pant suit. She never failed to dress to kill, though for the first time your attention was far from focused on your co-worker.

“What’s –” you paused, clearing your throat when you felt Yunjin start to fondle your balls, “What’s up?”

“I was just thinking about the evaluations earlier…”

Oh fuck. She wants to talk about something serious? Now of all times?! Admittedly, Jessica didn’t know you were currently getting a blowjob under your desk but her timing couldn’t be worse. It also didn’t help that Yunjin was still technically one of the trainees being evaluated. Maybe you could talk your way out of it before you lost it entirely.

“Oh? I thought they went well” you feigned.

Jessica fixed you with a look that might’ve been the most judgemental look you had received in your life. And honestly, given what was going on you probably deserved it. “That’s only because you don’t know the girls. A lot of them don’t usually perform that poorly. I think we may have rushed the evaluations a little too soon.”

“Are you sure you’re not,” you swallowed a swear and a moan, “...just too close to the situation?”

“No, I’m not –” she paused to gain her composure. “They are good enough to make it into the group. Yunjin especially is talented.”

As if on cue, Yunjin began to deep-throat your cock. She took it all the way, your cock poking her throat as she pressed her face into your groin. On what hand you wondered why she was being so risky. On the other hand – good god.

“Oh, I’m sure she is,” you breathed out. “So what…what are you suggesting we do?”

Maintaining eye contact with Jessica was getting harder and harder, so you were almost grateful when she started pacing back and forth.

“I don’t know. Maybe push evaluations back a bit? Give the girls some time to get comfortable with the new situation? It’d also give you more time to settle in.”

Yunjin’s tongue ran along the thick vein on the underside of your cock as she slowly pulled it out of her mouth. Careful to make as little noise as possible while utterly torturing you to the utmost extent. She began to swirl her tongue around it, from the sensitive tip all the way down the base. You knew you had to get Jessica out of there immediately if she kept this up.

“Y-yeah that sounds good. Let’s do that” you stuttered.

“Really?”

“Yes! I trust your judgment.”

Jessica, usually so cool and professional, cracked a rare smile. “Great! I’ll go let the girls know.”.

Fortunately, she seemed too pleased to comment on your distressed expression, instead hurrying out the door. Almost simultaneous with the sound of the door closing, Yunjin began to vulgarly suck your cock. She was intent on draining every drop from you as she massaged your balls, coaxing your release to shoot out. You were completely at her mercy as you gripped your desk, trying not to cry out as you looked down at her. When she looked up at you with a wide-eyed stare, her mouth firmly secured around your cock, it was over for you.

“Fuck!”

You grunted as your peak hit. Rope after rope of cum filled her mouth yet she didn’t pull off once. In fact, Yunjin didn’t spill a single drop. When she did finally pull her mouth off your cock, she made sure to suck it clean before finally swallowing and looking up at you with a smirk.

“PD-nim, I think my vocals will be a lot better next time now.”

Fuck. What had you just gotten yourself into.

[sapphic-kpop-fics]

Chapter 1- what are you doing here

Right into the angst I’m so sorry besties

Masterlist

You had gotten a call a few days ago from HYBE, an offer to join a new group they’re forming to train for a debut. You couldn’t believe it, you had posted some dance videos online and sure they do well but you never expected to be scouted. Of course you jumped at the opportunity and now you’re packing for your flight to Korea from your apartment in Japan, where you had moved to with your family in your teens.

When you landed in Seoul it was time to go to your new company and meet your group members, walking through the hybe building it was huge and trying to find the practice room you’re supposed to meet it in practically impossible since you can’t find the person that is in charge of you. So now you’re late and running into the room causing all eyes to go to you.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, it’s kinda impossible to find anything here.” You say to the large group in front of you, a mix of staff and your members as well.

“It’s alright, come over and meet the girls.” Someone who you assume is your manager tells you.

Now looking up and walking further in you can see five girls in the center of the room, all looking at you except one, Sakura stood staring at the ground as she recognized your voice as soon as you said one word. As you walk forward one of the girls finally speak up.

“Hi, I’m Yunjin.” Yunjin, you now know, goes in for a hug which you accept trying to ignore your ex just a few feet away. You recognize Yunjin a bit from watching produce 48 and remember being a bit upset she didn’t make it. Yunjin has a smile on her face at all times and a kind energy, so you calm down talking her. “Call me Jen.”

“I’m Chaewon.” You recognized her, of course you did, you had spent the past 3 years obsessively watching iz*one content, she didn’t have to know that yet though. And you could tell she recognized you, obvious that Sakura had talked about you to her while they were in their group.

“I’m Kazuha.” She quiet and a bit shy, but kind. A calm energy surrounds her, like she’s safe.

Lastly a younger girl speaks up, obviously shy and much younger than the other members around her (if 3 years is much)

“I’m eunchae.” She says quietly you almost don’t hear, you instantly feel protective like you’d fight anyone for the girl. It causes you to softly smile at her which she visibly relaxes at.

And then there’s Sakura, still looking at the ground mostly, silent even as the others look at her expectantly.

“Oh we already know each other.” You tell the other girls who are trying to urge her to speak, at which she finally looks up.

“Oh really? How?” Yunjin immediately questions

“We uh used to be g- um friends.” Sakura seems to be the only one who notices your almost mistake as you recovered easily as if it was just a little cough, and you don’t miss how she looks disappointed at the title of friends on your previous relationship.

You spend the next 10 minutes talking, well you were talking to four of them and Sakura was being silent unless she was speaking to someone else. Then the manager interrupted to tell us our starting schedule for training before allowing us to head to the dorms. You go to leave after everyone else had cleared the room but Sakura stops you before closing the door and leaning against it to block your exit.

“What are you doing here?” Sakura deadpans, a contrast to her usual personality.

“Same thing as you Sakura”

“I thought my world was too much for you?”

At first you don’t register the meaning of her words but the look in her eye brings you back to 3 years ago in your apartment.

Flashback

“There’s a show in Korea and they’re collaborating with my group and I’m going to be on it! If I’m in the top 12 I get to be in a group!” Sakura excitedly explains to you.

“Wow kkura I’m so happy for you!” Your voice is happy but the smile you’re wearing doesn’t reach your eyes.

“What? What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy for me” Your girlfriend asked always able to read your face like it was a book.

“Nothing, I’m excited for you. It’s a good opportunity.”

“And?”

“And…. You have to leave”

“Yeah?”

“To Korea”

“Mhm.”

“Away from me.”

Sakura finally understands why you’re suddenly upset

“I mean yeah but we can get through it right?”

“It’s a different country.”

“We can visit each other”

“When? On the little breaks you have?”

“Come with me.”

“Sakura.. I can’t just give up my life to move to a different country for you.”

“This is my dream y/n. I can’t just not do it. Plus right now it’s not even a guarantee I’ll be in the group, for all we know it’s not permanent.”

“And if it becomes permanent?”

“Then we figure it out.”

“Look, I love you and I love how much you love your job but your world is just…. It’s not for me.” You try to explain, “They’ll never let you be with someone like me, not publicly.” It’s true and Sakura knows it, it’s something she had always feared when it came to her career

“So that’s it? You won’t even think about it? Either I stay or i go and i lose you?” Tears filled sakura’s eyes as her voice broke when she spoke.

“You should go. Don’t let me hold you back from your dreams.” A sad smile rests on your face, you always said you wanted what’s best for her even if it meant leaving to follow her dream of performing but you felt selfish now that it’s actually happening but you let your words betray your feelings.

“I don’t want to lose you.” She’s looking at the ground now, tears flowing down her face, and her voice is a whisper at best.

“I know.” You walk across the room to finally be face to face with her with your hands on her shoulders, “don’t forget about me when you’re worldwide star.”

Her only response is a hug, tight like a snake constricting against you and then a kiss, soft and sad, tears from her eyes dripping onto your face.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered before walking out of your apartment.

End of flashback

You didn’t see her again, not in person but you saw all of her music videos and performances. You wouldn’t admit it but you kept track of everything she had done over the years.

And now here you were, and she was In front of you with an expression somewhere between hurt and anger.

“I thought my world was too much for you?”

“That’s not fair”

“How so?”

“It was different then.”

“How?”

“God Sakura, it’s been 3 years. Can we please not do this?”

“You said it was too much for you which is why we couldn’t be together, why you didn’t come with me. And now suddenly here you are, a trainee, I just want to know what changed.” Sakura is mad, and it’s kinda scary because she never gets mad not like this and never at you.

“You. That’s what changed.” You say raising your voice to be a little above normal, matching her quiet anger.

“What do you mean?”

“If I was asked 3 years ago I would’ve said no because I wouldn’t have wanted to leave you but you were gone so I agreed.” It was the truth if Sakura never left and you were still together in Japan and you had gotten the opportunity without her, you would’ve said no.

“Oh. So I was holding you back?” Her face was angry but her voice wobbles as she speaks, hurt at the inferred implication of the words.

“I didn’t mean-“

“No it’s fine. I get it. I’ll see you later.” She stormed off out of the door angrily walking to where your now shared dorm would be as you got put with Sakura and Eunchae on their floor. After she leaves you take a few minutes to calm down, not wanting to show that you and Sakura had an intense interaction.

You walk out of the dance practice room where Yunjin is standing, looking at the door as you walked out.

“Oh.. hi.” You say surprised she was still at the company instead of on her way to the dorm like the rest of the members, “you’re still here”

“I just wanted to wait for you. Didn’t want you having to find your way around alone.” Yunjin says referencing your lateness earlier, “I also wanted to check on you , you looked pretty frazzled when you saw Sakura. She also just stormed out looking angry so I thought I’d make sure you’re okay” You had planned to just be by yourself tonight to just relax from seeing your ex again, but damn Yunjin and her incredibly kind heart.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. It’s just been a while since we saw each other, I was surprised is all.” You explain, lying.

“Okay.” You can tell she doesn’t believe you from her facial expressions, “well I’m here for you, we’re a team now.”

“Same here, Jen.”

Yunjin smiles at the use of the nickname, and you could tell you would be close friends with her, a connection appeared instantly.

Somehow you both make your way to the front of the building, without getting lost. The other girls had taken a different car after they had decided you and Sakura had taken too long so now your ex was also sitting waiting out front for a car to come, Sakura was eyeing you as you interacted with your new friend. Though you had been broken up for three years she couldn’t help the jealousy that seeped in, the idea of another girl making you laugh like she did drove her crazy in the worst way. Her fists clenched by her side and she bit her lip hard almost drawing blood. Before you noticed her reaction, a car pulled up, without your friend Heeseung, so Yunjin and Sakura head towards it.

“Are you coming y/n?” Yunjin asks when she notices you’re not moving.

“Oh I have a friend in a hybe group so they’re letting us go to dinner, the car is on the way.”

“Oh okay, well I’ll see you at the dorm tonight.” A small smile and then she gives you a tight hug that you notice Sakura side eyes but you also notice her face relaxing at hearing you won’t be in the car with them.

Before Yunjin pulls away, another car is pulling up, Heeseung jumping out of the back seat almost immediately to come and pick you up in a hug.

“I’ve missed you.” He said.

“I’ve missed you too.” You notice the other girls side eyeing you, especially Sakura of course she knows about Heeseung but that doesn’t mean she has to like him being with you.

“Your friend is heeseung?” Jen said shocked.

“Yeah, We’ve known each other since we were kids, Ryujin from ITZY too actually.”

“Oh cool!”

Meanwhile Sakura is rolling her eyes.

“Yunjin, can we go now?” She asks, impatiently.

“Oh yeah, see you later Y/n”

They get in the car and take off.

“Well she’s as horrible as I remember you telling me.” He said when they drove away.

“Yeah, why don’t we get in the car and I’ll tell you all about our reunion.”

He nods and you both get into the backseat and Heeseung tells the driver to drive but to turn the music up so he couldn’t hear our conversation.

[samkerrworshipper]

heyyy guys

had heaps of reqs for some daddy lucy smut and i haven’t been able to finish any of it lol so i thought i’d give you all a little blurb/sneak peek so enjoy! if y’all like this i’d be willing to finish it just lmk !

spanking & implied smut warning minors dni

daddy?… sorry

lucy bronze x reader

——————————————————————

“Can you remind me how we have found ourselves in this position?”

You decided to punish me? Were the words running through my head, but I didn’t have anywhere near enough nerve to vocalise those thoughts, not considering the position I was already in.

“I broke your rules.”

I flinched as another slap came down on my ass, 11, 12, 13, 14. I tried my best not to move, not to make any noise, knowing that it would only make things worse for me.

“Our rules, and what rule would that be?”

Her words were punctuated with another set of spanks, this time falling what felt like a centimetre below the previous one, 15, 16, 17. This time I let out a little bit of a cry, bucking slightly in my position, trying to find some kind of release from the pain that was being administered to me, Lucy’s arm held my hips steady though, her hold hard enough to tell me that my movement was not permitted.

“I put myself in danger on the field and I put someone else in danger.”

In my defence, I hadn’t really meant to slide tackle the girl so aggressively, I think I’d hurt myself more in the process then she had. We’d both been running full speed down the field and one second we were running and then the next I was throwing my feet out in front of her and we were colliding. Lucy slapped her palm down against my ass another three times, earning a groan from me and the feeling of tears prickling at the edges of my eyes.

“Hm, why?”

I took a deep breath as another set of spanks fell down across my ass. 18, 19, 20, 21, 22. I felt the tears start to leak down my face, dripping down and onto the carpet below me.

“I thought she was going to shoot for goal, I had to stop her.”

My words were followed up very quickly with another set of slaps that echoed across the walls of our bedroom, making a cacophonous noise rebounding back at us. I could hear the sound of Lucy’s hand connecting with my ass, and it hurt, it hurt like a bitch.

“So you made the choice to put both you and her in danger because she decided she was going to shoot for goal?”

23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28. I let out a sob as Lucy’s hand continued to slap down against my skin, the mixture of the burning sensation and stinging starting to get to me. She left just enough time between the spanks for me to feel the sting but not enough time that it started to mellow out.

“I didn’t think that it was going to be that bad.”

I knew my words would fall on deaf ears, she wouldn’t have been punishing me if she thought that I hadn’t intended to cause some harm in the process of my actions.

“A red card and the girl getting stretchered off is pretty bad if you ask me.”

The red card was probably the worst part, especially considering that we’d been down by a point when I’d been sent off the pitch, leaving us with ten players to scrap to get a goal.

“I didn’t mean for her to get hurt.”

29, 30, 31, 32.

“What did you mean to do then? Because you can’t tell me that when you were flinging yourself at her knees and decking her that you didn’t understand the possibility of you or her getting injured. Explain to me what rule number 7 is?”

Tears and snot were basically free flowing down my face at this stage.

“To never put myself in a position where I could harm myself.”

Each word that left my mouth was punctuated by a slap. 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44.

“And how did you act today?”

45, 46, 47, 48.

Each slap drew a sob from my chest, loud sobs that I was completely unapologetic for producing. Lucy wasn’t holding back whatsoever, not that I expected her to, she never took it easy on me.

“In a way that could have harmed me.”

49, 50.

“Not just in a way that could harm you, but also in a way that could harm another person. You could have easily broken one of her legs or knees, or concussed her, the possibilities of what you could have done are endless. Maybe you didn’t mean to hurt her, but you still did. When this happens in the future we are going to find ourselves back here, is that understood?”

I nodded quickly, the tears and snot still dripping down my face without stopping.

“Y-yes, daddy.”

[lightwing-s]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊__ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐓 𝐈𝐈

pairing: jason todd x villain! fem! reader

summary: they should hate each other, but from how long they each stay on the other's mind, they clearly were not paying attention to that. they took I'll fuck you in the complete opposite direction.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: oh god 6,8k warnings: smut, unprotected sex, chocking, dirty talk, oral sex, foreplay, language

a/n: so yeah, here's finally to part 2! thank you to every single message i got about pt 1, i was so overwhelmed by the response to it that i had to make some time to wrap up the story. also, special thanks to @igotanidea for being the most supportive person I've ever met online and for handling me breaking down over this week while trying to finish this post. to you i owe so much ♡ a/n 2: guys, pls, go easy on me as this was my first attempt at writing smut. so so sorry if this ends up looking ridiculous lol

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

pt i

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

For the past 48 hours, Jason had been absentmindedly searching for Y/n. Searching for signs that everything that happened two nights ago was real, and not just a product of his imagination.

Two mornings ago, he woke up confused, not knowing exactly where he was or how he had gotten there in the first place. He woke up in his brother's living room, laying in his brown leather sofa, shirt missing and head banging from pain, with the extra addition of the sun beaming its morning rays straight into his eyes. 

Handing him a cup of warm milk, Dick filled in on how he found him passed out on top of an abandoned building, just as the sun was coming up in the horizon and he was ready to drop his vigilante outfit for the night. According to him, he was already missing his shirt then, his broken helmet was beside his body, and he was the only thing in the otherwise completely empty building, not even his motorcycle in his line of sight. He couldn’t figure out what had happened to Jason earlier, and he only wondered just how the hell did he get there?

Jason couldn’t offer him an explanation, though. 

He had a hunch of just who had put him there. But he wasn’t sure. Everything that happened that night, the kisses, the touches, they couldn’t just not be real. They had to have happened, the memories were too clear in his mind for it to be just a dream. It felt too real to be just a hallucination.

It had to be real, or someone had been playing with his mind way too well. The Mad Hatter is known for his devices, Ivy had been on the loose for a while. Or his mind had simply just acquired the skills to produce extremely realistic scenarios in his head, better than any porn he had watched recently.

That or he was just too addicted to Y/n.

It felt massively wrong. Like he was committing the worst of sins, or something like that, he wasn’t really religious to understand. She was a thief, a villain, someone he was supposed to hate and fight against, throw her in jail and never think of her again until she eventually fled Blackgate just like every other criminal in this god damned city. 

But here he was. Standing atop some old factory in Gotham, heavy traffic not flowing just below him, while he looked for any clues or indications she was still around. 

Someone just radioed GCPD that there’s a drug trade going on in Tricorner Island, he heard through the coms.

I overheard two guys talking about it. Oracle, send me the location, I’m on my way.

Just did it, Robin. Nightwing, how’s north Gotham doing?

Er… Going, his brother answered through the sounds of grunts and punches.

Where’s  Jason? Haven’t heard of him all night and…

Before Barbara could say anything else, Jason turned off the coms, not wanting anything else adding up to his bad temper. He didn’t even know why he had come to patrol tonight, as fighting crime was the last thing he had on his mind. Returning his gaze to the traffic below, he let his thoughts wander elsewhere.

The loud sounds of honks and engines reverberated in the air, with the screams of angry drivers rushing their ways home to rest for the night playing along. The muffled sound of an ambulance siren got lost in the distance, hopefully driving someone with a chance of survival to Gotham General Hospital. All of those noises entered Jason’s ear on one side and left on the other, seemingly going unnoticed by the tall man. It was like he wasn’t there. Physically he was standing on top  of that building, mentally he was somewhere else. Where, he didn’t know. With whom, though, he had a clear answer. 

She had been missing from the streets for a while, but very much present in his mind. Cupid, Y/n, or whatever she went by, lived in his thoughts. The whole entire day, every second he wasn’t busy with something, he was thinking of her. And for that he was a goddamned loser.

Fortunately, or not, he was constantly thinking of something else he was missing too. His precious motorcycle had been MIA since the incident, and was, for some reason, untraceable by the Cave’s systems. Not riding it for two full days was getting to his nerves, and added to the agonizing feeling he had been under lately. 

Riding was his therapy, the cure for every troubled time he went through. There was no anxiety attack, no emotional turmoil, no stupid  fight with Bruce that couldn’t be erased by a 100 mph drive along Gotham’s damp streets. Not doing so made him feel like at any moment, anything, even the smallest of words, could make him explode.

Alone, he sometimes could hear the roaring of the V4 engine coming from nowhere. He’d look left and right, searching for it, but finding nothing. Loud, explosive, distinguishable. A hallucination, a very realistic hallucination. Very real. Very… Real?

Speeding up the road, he saw it. Cutting through the traffic, dodging cars and other vehicles, he recognized his motorcycle making its way in his direction. It was it, he was sure. There was no universe where he couldn't identify his favorite thing in the world, even from  afar. Moving closer to the parapet, almost flying over it, he tried to get a glimpse of who was riding it, but if anyone asked he’d have a guess.

Her. It had to be.

Whoever was on it was dressed all in black, and as it got closer he saw the same jacket he had seen two nights before. Hooded just like his. And, as the vehicle drove past him, the dark helmet turned, looking directly at him. As if she knew he was there. As if she knew he was waiting.

She definitely knew. She knew pretty well all his movements at this point, understood him well enough. How she learned all that, how to manipulate him like this, he didn’t know, but he knew her intentions. As much as she knew him, he got to know about her. She knew he’d recognize his motorcycle  anywhere, and she knew he’d want it back. 

So, somehow, he followed her.

The neighborhood he found himself in was dark, the streets were wet and the air was humid. Light rain had just started pouring down on him, as he followed the trails left by the mucky tires of his bike, leading him further down the road. He should’ve been more careful, hiding in the corners and studying the place before making his way in. But tonight he simply couldn’t, all sense of carefulness completely gone, being replaced by hot tempered decision making. 

Jason arrived at an old abandoned parking garage. The first two floors were empty, dark and smelled of mold and trash. Climbing the ramps to the last floor, though, he spotted the red motorcycle right in the middle of the lot, parked and with its light still on, blinding anyone who’d go in its direction. They stopped him from seeing much else in the area, but considering that the only sound he could hear was from his own boots hitting the concrete floor, he quickly understood he was also alone.

His footsteps echoed through the walls, the muddy lines left by the tires beside him. As he reached the vehicle, for the first time in days, he felt a portion of tension that he was holding onto for a long time, leaving his body. With a heavy sigh in relief, he turned off the lights before quietly caressing the scarlet tank, the leather seat,  admiring his most faithful partner in its long awaited return.

“I took good care of her, don’t worry” he heard someone say. Startled, he lifted his head from where it was looking down, and instantly recognizing the voice, he searched for the source of the heavenly sound.

Then, he found her.

Resting against a concrete column at a far end, Y/n watched the outside, the falling rain and the night sky. Where she stood, the moonlight hit her precisely, like a spotlight in a play, like the moon knew no one else but her. Like she was a favorite. The light made her skin glow, her eyes sparkle. It made her look like a goddess.

He didn’t remember her ever looking this good. Maybe he was too blind by anger he didn’t notice, or there was something different tonight. He knew she was pretty, really pretty for that matter. But he was still so intoxicated from last time, so captivated, bewitched. Looking at her now, he knew getting rid of her thoughts would only get harder. Damn it!

Wearing a similar outfit to the one she wore on the underground, he noticed her jacket was open, and a silver necklace decorated her collarbone. The wind blew at her hair,  exposing her chest, her neck, her jaw, her lips. Speechless, Jason stood there, admiring her, for way longer his conscious self would be proud of. 

Following his silence, he heard her chuckle, bringing him back from his land of dirty dreams.

“You took my bike” he simply stated, mentally slapping himself for not being able to form a coherent sentence.

“A bit obvious, isn’t it?” she replied, finally looking in his direction, smirk glued on her glossy lips. Licking his own, he didn’t know how to reply, preferring to thank her for delivering back his vehicle  scratch free. “It wasn’t difficult. I took care of you, didn’t I?”

So it was real, he thought. He wasn’t going crazy. Or was he? One could argue that. Y/n was driving him insane.

“Thank you… for helping me that night” he said. “How did you know I was there?”

“I was following you.” she replied.

“Why?”

Shrugging, she gave him her answer. 

Truthfully, Y/n didn’t know why she was following him that night. After they left the subway tunnels she could have gone home, done with the last favor she owned Cobblepot. However, deep down her mind, he was there. And she worried about him. She knew Penguin well, she knew what he could do. And she didn’t want harm getting in his way. So she followed him.

She wanted to make sure he was alright. Why? God knows why. Y/n doesn’t. Or she refused to admit the real answer.

Jason. The sweet name stuck in her mind since he’d given it to her, and she urged to know what he looked like behind the mask. Put a face to the name, as they say. Did he look as fine as his name sounded? As his voice did? As his body would let on?

“You were pretty quiet these past few days” he said, circling the motorcycle and moving her way.

“I took some time to think.” she replied, returning her gaze to the rain.

“About what?”

“Curious much?” she joked, entertained by his need to get to know her. “About my life. Or what’s left of it”

“Hmm. Could have guessed you were working on another plan.” he joined in with a light joke.

“I got plenty of time for that, too.” she threw him a smile, blinding him for a second. “There’s just so much going on right now. Its…”

“Exhausting?” He cut her. “I guess working with Penguin does that to you”

“I don’t work with him” she threw back at him, her tone a bit sharper.

“For him, with him. It all sounds the same to me.” he said, opening his arms in contemplation.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said, shaking  her head.

“Then explain it.” he requested. “Why do you do that? Why do you…”

“Steal, rob, trade, cause chaos” she cut him off. “I’m broke”

Pushing herself from the column, she moved to rest her hands on the window opening. The way she licked her lips and shook her head. The way her voice sounded ever so slightly broken. How she uncomfortably shifted on her feet after that comment. It wasn’t much of a choice, her way of life was perhaps the only solution. Jason felt sorry, he wanted to get closer, but he knew to stay away for now.

“I’m fucking broke. My family is gone. I don’t feel like working my ass off all day just to get paid in crumbs. So I decided to take my life in a new direction, and it turns out I’m good at that.”

“I’d say, really good at it.” Jason complimented. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy that” Y/n looked at him over her shoulder and, shaking her head, gave him a smile.

Shrugging, he said: “I like a good challenge.”

Jason liked whatever this was much more than the angry, frustrated talks they had while chasing each other. It was light, fun. He could work well with that.

“By the way. I took it for a ride, hope you don’t mind” she said, resting her elbows on the short wall, and her cheeks on her hands. “That’s a really, really, sweet ride you have there” 

Gulp. With air tightening at his throat, he opened his helmet, taking it off and placing it on the tank of his bike. Jason's sweaty hair stuck to his face, cheeks still puffed from the heat after running all the way to the parking deck. 

That’s something I would like to take a sweet ride on, Y/n thought, but shook it away as soon as possible.

“What was that?” Jason asked her.

“What was what?” she pretended not to know, begging the universe he didn’t notice.

“What were you shaking your head at?” Eyebrows arched, she knew he noticed. “Like what you see?”

“You’ve been staring at my boobs from the moment you got here and I haven’t commented a thing” she said, turning her face so he couldn’t see her cheeks growing red.

Raising his hands in defeat, Jason tried to change topics.

“It was custom made.” he explained.

“Then you’ll have to tell me who did it, because I might be interested in getting one myself”

“I built it” Jason proudly informed. “It took me a while, but I got it done just how I wanted.”

“Wow” she moved one more time, facing him fully now, and crossing her arms over her chest. “You must be great working with your hands then”

Looking down, Jason stared at his own hands. Calloused, with a few bruises here and there, and desperate to have them exploring all over her. “I have my talents.”

“I see.”

A moment of silence followed. Not awkward, not tense. Just quiet, as both tried to stray their eyes from each other.

“Just don’t put anyone in danger, alright?” was all Jason asked, turning around to leave. 

“So you’re really leaving?” Y/n blurted out, not proud of sounding desperate, but desperately not wanting him gone. “Just like this?”

If he was stupid, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight tint of sadness on her voice, or the light touch of desperation ingrained in it. But he wasn’t, he heard it. And mysteriously, it boosted something deep inside him, an ego he didn’t know he owned.

“I have work” liar.

“Do you?” she questioned, walking in his direction. 

Jason was already mounted on his motorcycle, ready to turn the engine on. But the sight of her getting closer stopped him from doing anything else. He felt trapped somehow, like something was keeping him tied there. But there was no rope, not chains, not guns pointed at him. Just her.

All the way, her eyes never left his, looking at him through seductive eyes, challenging him, inquiring the truth. However, he saw, deep down, they were also begging him to stay. Watching her every move, lips sore from biting, his mouth hung open when, upon reaching him, she crossed her right leg over the tank of his motorcycle, sitting on it.

Her knees touched his thigh, the space between them minuscule. She was close, oh so close to him. His hot breath hit her face, making her eyelashes move. Her own blowing directly at his lips. 

“Do you really have to work tonight?”she questioned him one more time, hands sliding up his tights, eyes hanging low and falling on his lips. His own hands traveling to her waist, as Jason saw himself drawing her even closer. 

“Not if I don't want to” he stated in a breath, voice weak and desperate. He could feel his pants getting tighter, and heat building up from his neck.

“Don’t then” she whispered against his lips, hers dangerously close, almost touching his.

“I won’t” he said, one hand flying to the nape of her neck and finally, finally, closing the space between their mouths.

Ferociously, Jason’s mouth wandered over hers, tongue immediately sliding in. He held strongly at her neck and waist, as her hands laid and caressed at his tights. The kiss was wet, hot, and desperate. He wanted to drown himself on her lips, lose himself in her touches. And Y/n was just as needy, as her hands traveled up and down his tights, and her sweet moans filled Jason’s ears like a soft lullaby.

Lifting her legs over his, tangling them around his waist, she drew her body closer, locking the small gap they still had between them and grinding on his clothed crotch, while her hands dangerously made their way to where he wanted them most. Palming his dick, Y/n let out a surprised gasp, as her small hand barely cupped his size entirely. 

Y/n already expected him to be big. Looking at his body size, it was an easy assumption to make. Sometimes when they met, she would notice the bulge in his pants and spend the rest of the night just thinking about his potential. And, when they were making out on her guest room bed, she could feel just how big he was. 

With Y/n massaging him up and down over his pants, Jason would release deep guttural noises, but never bothered about ever ungluing their mouths. His kiss was sloppy, wetting even her chin. He’d suck at her bottom lip, biting it occasionally. The silvery taste of blood filling his taste buds.

As she tightened her hold on him, he grunted loudly into her mouth. Taking both her wrists with one single hand, he took them away from his crotch and held them tightly behind her back. Lowering her onto the panel, being careful to not hurt her head, he stood on his feet as he dry humped her jeans. The thick fabric of her pants adding to the feeling on her already sensitive clit. WIth her legs still wrapped around his waist, she assisted his movement with some of her own, moaning out his name like a prayer, as nibbled at her neck. 

He kissed his way down her neck, sucking and biting on it, certainly leaving his mark on her skin. Knowing the bruises she would have by the next morning only grew his lust, a sense of power in having her marked as his own. With his big hands, he wrapped them around her breasts, picking at her nipples over her shirt. Y/n moaned, arching her back and exposing her neck even more for him to reach places he couldn’t before. 

He wanted her stained, body covered in purple, as his little art project. He wanted her mindless, no thoughts in her head, drunk from pleasure. He wanted her under his power, dependent, addicted. He wanted her so bad, so good, so wet for him. He wanted to fuck her here and now.

But he had to wait. Against his own nature, he had to stop, before it was too late.

“Get off” he demanded, raspy voice making shivers run down her spine. Pushing away, he unhooked her legs from around him and with the back of his hand, he tried to clean his lips. 

Upon his words, her eyes shot open, confusion and disappointment evident in her irises. Jason had to hold himself as to not fuck her then and there, as she looked fucking desperate for him. Needy of his touch.

“I’m not fucking you on my motorcycle.” he state, handing her his hand to help her off his bike. “I know a way better place for us to go.”

“Are you gonna be able to wait till we get there?” she asked, still breathless from seconds ago.

“You made me wait two days already. I guess I can handle a few more minutes. Can you?” he traded a question, raising one eyebrow at her.

Biting her lips, she rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, looking all messed up still. A part of her told her to go, leaving him hanging with his own ego she knew pretty well was getting inflated by each second she spent under his touch. But her horny side, the one speaking the loudest tonight, just wanted to get its release. 

Climbing over the back of his bike, she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the ripped muscles of his well shaped abdomen, and rested her cheek on his back.

Turning on the engine, he looked at her over his shoulder. “Hold tight”

A fan of speed, Jason had a feeling he had never driven faster. 

All over the city, he had secret hiding spots where he’d store weapons, money, and gadgets he needed for patrol. Small spots, needed mostly for storage and the occasional stitching up after a tough fight. But one of them was larger, his safehouse, built from two stacked up containers at an abandoned port storage lot. Jason considered it almost like a home, being there most of the time while out of patrol and not being busy with his civilian stuff.

He knew it was dangerous to bring her there, she could very well be tricking him, trying to get deep within his skin and rip something out of it. But every ounce of carefulness left his body the moment he crashed his lips to hers.

Parking outside in the dark lot, they climbed out of his vehicle and Y/n waited as he opened the container’s door. Inside, she was surprised by the tidiness of the place, not something she was expecting to see. It was clean and well organized. It contained a small kitchen, a living room and a bedroom on the opposite side to the door.

Y/n curiousness was heightened. This was so different to what she expected his home would be like. She thought he’d be like every other guy she had met, with a messy bedroom, unorganized book shelves, clothes hanging from everywhere. Sure, she hasn’t been with the type of guys that wouldn’t be messy, but his bunker was a very welcome surprise.

A stack of books decorated his coffee table, the only slightly “messy” thing in the entire unit. Taking the one from the top of the pile, Y/n was satisfied to see the early edition of Jane Austen’s Emma among his recent reads.

On the wall, a display showed a series of guns, knives and other weapons, drawing Y/n’s interest in seeing them from up close.

“Admiring the knives, Y/n?” Jason asked, breaking the silence hovering between them since they arrived in the place.

“You have quite the collection.” grabbing a larger knife in her hands, she turned back to him and continued. “No ropes, but knives. I see you’re into some kinky shit, Jason”

“We all have our thing” he didn’t deny. “Fire, isn’t it?”

Y/n liked cocky and fun Jason so much better than the angry annoying one she’d get most nights. Although she enjoyed annoying him, seeing how frustrated he’d get every time they met, this new calm, tranquil version of him was growing in her heart. 

It was hard to admit she had a thing for him, the guy who so desperately wanted to take her behind bars. She didn’t blame him, she knew what she did wasn’t that great. She didn’t have to do it like that, there were other options that wouldn’t have been as “easy”, but wouldn’t certainly get her into this much trouble. But all his trouble led her here, to his home, or she so assumed this unit was.

Almost every night, they’d meet, even if briefly, between all the other chaotic events in the city of chaos Gotham City. And every time they meet, religiously, Y/n would spend the rest of the night with him on her head. There was something about his hooded self, the mystery behind the mask, that attracted her. The fact he would do anything in his power to send her to Blackgate or any other prison added a risk factor that only made him hotter.

Then, she became obsessed. She'd learned his watching spots, always making sure to show up just around the corner. On the day of the Tiffany’s robbery, she knew he was close, and decided to strike before anyone else got close.

She didn’t think he’d like her back though. That night in her apartment came as a very welcoming surprise.

Everything that led to this event came as a surprise too. She was supposed to go home, rest after being done with her last debt to Penguin. But she saw him on her way, tiredly looking beyond at, seemingly, nothing, just waiting for something to happen. And then, she just stood there, watching him under the bridge, watching him fight with the two idiots she had met before at Penguin’s club, and watched him almost getting beat by Solomon Grundy. If she didn’t intervene soon enough, he’d have. But she wouldn’t let him, not under her watch.

Taking him from the floor, she carried his body with much difficulty to her apartment. Not all the way, as she stopped to rob someone’s car to drive him there, ensuring the driver she’d would return the car the very next day. She did, and even left him a thank you letter. 

Bringing him home was a stupid idea. At least at first. But when he looked at his cuts and scratches, she couldn’t help the primordial instinct of taking care of him. And when he looked all hot and needy, and when he kissed her passionately, bringing him home was suddenly the best decision she had made in a while.

But she couldn’t let it happen then. She was a criminal, but she still had a moral code. Don’t steal from the poor, only the rich. Help those around if you can. Don’t fuck anybody with the slightest level of unconsciousness due to alcohol, meds, drugs, or whatever. Basic human ethics everyone should know.

She regretted it, of course, as him doing things to her body were all that clouded her mind the entire day, her hands and toys not doing enough to send those thoughts away.

There was also the thought in the back of her head telling him he only wanted to fuck her because she was “hot”. Sure, maybe she wasn’t the prettiest, or had the hottest body, but it seemed like was more attracted to her than into her. She couldn’t say the same, feeling exactly the opposite. She imagined once he’d fucked her, he’d fuck with her and had her trapped and sent away.

She didn’t want him to break her heart. Yet, where she was now, she was waiting for it.

“Penny for your thots… Er-hm thoughts” he coughed, worrying about her sudden silence.

“Nothing important.” she replied quietly.

“Really?” he questioned again, wanting to be sure she was fine. “Anything I can help with?”

He was walking closer ever so slowly. Reaching her, he set his arms around her, on the same table she was holding herself against, trapping her in place and forbidding her from getting away.

Just fuck me out of this thoughts, she mentaly replied, for some reason too ashamed to say it out loud. 

His face rested mere inches from hers, and she could feel his minty breath once again.

“I want to kiss you” he admitted. “Can I?”

Biting her lower lip seductively, eyes glued on his, Y/n closed the space between them one more time. This turn, though, the kiss was softer, more contained, yet still as hot. His hand flew to caress her cheek with his thumb, palms resting on her jaw and the nape of her neck.

This slower pace, although really enjoyable, from Y/n perspective just wasn't enough. Her underwear felt sticky from the arousal she had earlier, and her core still twitched in desire. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer and speeding up their kiss, becoming slowly as sloppy as it had been before.

He held onto her thighs, wrapping them around his waist. The close contact between their cores heating up their surroundings. She grinded on him, begging for some attention down there, as his lips wandered from her mouth to her neck, leaving bites all along. 

She could feel his hardening member growing inside his pants, the junction of his bulge and the hard fabric causing the friction against her clit to feel even better. Her moans were becoming louder and couldn’t stop fleeing her lips. Jason, on the other hand, kept his composure.

The tables were turned now, and Y/n was the one desperate for release. 

Sliding his large hands under her shirt, he pulls it up her head with ease. He watched her chest heaving under her pink lacy bra, the sight driving him closer to the edge. While he stared, Y/n swiftly slipped her hands down to take off her jeans too, as Jason took the hint and removed his jacket and his shirt too.

Y/n pulled him by his belt, ending their distance to kiss him once more. His hands flew to her boobs, tightening his hold and playing with her hardened nipples. Slowly, he made his way down to the valley of her breast, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could find. Looking up, they locked eyes, Jason making sure to not look away as he pulled the cloth covering her tit with his own teeth.

The sight couldn’t have been sexier, Y/n not noticing the moan she let out just at that. 

Mouth clashing against her soft skin, Jason sucked violently on one boob as his hand played with the other, causing Y/n’s head to roll back and hit the knife display on the wall. Her sudden move dropped a few of his knives onto the table, but they couldn’t have cared less, both letting out breathy laughs over the incident.

When he felt he was done with her breasts, he licked his way down belly, sending shivers down her spine. When he reached the waistline of her panties, Y/n’s breath hitched. The hot air from his breath hitting her core. She watched him attentively, waiting for his next move.

“I can smell how excited you are, Y/n” he commented, eyes glued to her core. “I wonder how you’d taste like”

Y/n had to hold tight onto the table to not let out a scream, Jason’s warm tongue sending jolts of electricity up her spine. He licked up and down her folds, one stroke at a time, driving Y/n nuts from impatience. He noticed her despair, and he enjoyed it thoroughly, slowing his pace even more, taking his sweet time licking at her clit.

“Jay…” Y/n begged, a hand moving to grasp at his hair.

“Pantience, sweetheart.” he mumbled between her tights.

“P-please”

Deciding to attend to her pleas just this once, Jason shoved his face down her soppy pussy, tongue moving at a much faster pace. Y/n’s legs went instinctively to rest over his shoulders, and he grabbed them tight to keep her trembling body from moving. Y/n’s lower abdomen twitched, as Jason devoured her intimacy like a hungry man. 

Jason was focused, himself enjoying every moment he spent licking her cunt. Sometimes he would give some much needed attention to her clit, and watch her squirm and shake above him. Her warmth overcoming him, her liquids sliding down his jaw, face all wet from her pleasure.

“Ah, you’re doing so good!”

“We’re just starting, Yn.”

And dropping her legs down, he stood up from the floor, shin glistering. Confusion and disappointment much more evident on Y/n face this time, frustrated with being so close to release. 

Jason breaks them apart, Y.n’s head rolling backwards immediately, as she begged for air. For a few seconds, he took some time  to admire her pose, boobs hanging out, face crunched from pleasure. But he didn’t waste any time before shoving his mouth on her nipples, drawing a surprised scream from the back of her throat.

“W-why did you stop?” she asked under heavy breaths.

“C’mon Y/n. I’ve never been easy on you. What made you think I was gonna do it this time?”

A smirk on his face, he spread her weak legs apart and stood in the middle, cupping her cheeks and leaning in for a kiss. Y/n could taste herself in his tongue, his soaked face staining her own with her juices.

“Do you wanna go to Blackgate?” he suddenly asked. Not understanding a thing, Y/n just stared at the muscular guy ahead. “Answer me Y/n. Do you wanna go to Blackgate?”

Y/n just shook her head.

“Good” he said, giving her a chaste kiss. Reaching behind her back, Jason grabbed one of the fallen knives. “I guess you won't be needing this tonight”

Gliding the blade carefully up her tights, Jason cut her panties and with a swift movement threw them aside. He grabbed the back of her legs and wrapped them on his waist, propping her up to carry her to his bed.

As she laid in his bed, exposed and vulnerable, she took some time to admire his strong body. Ripped muscles modeled his arms and abdomen, and basically every body part she landed her eyes on. Standing at the edge of the bed, staring her down while holding a knife, he looked dangerous and borderline frightening.

“Tonight, Y/n, I’ll be giving you a sentence.”

Slapping hard at her cunt, Jason’s hand massaged her clit with his thumb as two fingers slid inside of her. “And you’ll leave here a good, reformed citizen”

Y/n couldn’t hold back the loud moans that escaped her mouth. Arching her back, she screamed his name like a prayer. Hands grabbing onto the bed sheets, Y/n saw her mind go blank with her first orgasm of the night.

“Such a good girl”

As Y/n heaved and panted, trying to ease her breath, she listened to the sound of his belt falling to the floor. When she looked up to face him, Jason was  stroking his dick, grunting by himself as he watched her struggle to keep herself together. She observed his red tip drip with pre cum, her tongue instinctively hanging out.

“Do you wanna lick?”

She nodded innocently, moving to stand closer, but he pushed her back to fall on the bed again. 

“No. Not tonight.” pulling her to him, he slapped his dick on her soft cunt, teasing her entrance with his own tip. “Tonight I’m fucking you”

With one hard movement, Jason slipped his entire length inside of Y/n. She cried out his name, as his thickness stretched mercilessly, the sharp sensation causing tears to form in her eyes. He thrusted hard into her, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room.

“Oh, god. F-fuck!” she cried out.

He held her tight for support, pulling her and he pumped his cock deeper, getting lost in the warm sensation of being wrapped inside her tight wet cunt. 

“Sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. You’re making me feel so good.”

He watched her clothed tits jumping up, and angrily removed her last clothing item from her body. Palming her breast, he played with them as his thrusts started getting sloppier. H could finally feel his frustrations fading away with every thrust, and as she sang out his name he could feel his release getting closer. 

With one last hard thrust, he pushed himself out.

“Turn around” he demanded, and she quickly obeyed.

His hard hand hit her ass, surprising her and drawing out a loud cry. He slid his hand once more between her folds, watching her tremble under his touch.

“Jason, please, please. Just make me cum”

“Not yet, princess” he warned, as she cried in complaint, but as he kept stroking her clit she came undone on his fingers. “Tsc tsc tsc. I told you not yet.”

“I’m s-sorry, Jay. I just couldn’t… you were making me feel s-so good. Aah”

Jason pushed her head down onto the mattress, holding her in place by the neck.

“You better keep yourself together. Or do you want me to send you to Blackgate right after we’re done”

“No, please”

“Then wait till I let you cum” she nodded her head, tears soaking the bed.

He lined himself at her entrance once more, teasing it with his tip and he felt her cum melting on his tip. Snatching her hands from where they were supporting her up, he held them fiercely behind her back, as he made his way deep inside of her.

His cock hit heavily at her cervix. Her wall is tightening around him, sucking him even deeper. He was losing himself on her while he fucked her dumb. After so long trapped in intrusive thoughts and in unholy dreams, Jason felt in heaven. He grunted out her name, thankful for choosing a safehouse so far from everybody.

His thrust were getting clumsy, his dick missing entrance her a few times. As she placed him back where she wanted him most, she thrusted back, giving him a moment to rest before returning his moves once again.

“Jay” she whispered out. “I getting close”

“Shhh. Not now, baby. Just a little bit more.”

Grabbing her by the neck, he yanked her up to meet his chest. Her head rolled back to rest on his shoulders as he gained speed, the new position making him hit her favorite spot. Y/n cried out in his ears, when he fingered her clit for a third time.

He bit and sucked on the skin of her shoulder, holding back moans of his own.

“Jay, I-i” she tried to speak, but he cut her off by crashing his lips to hers. Still clutching her neck, he sucked on her tongue as he felt her nail dig into his ass.

“I’m almost there” he announced, sucking on earlobe. “Just tell me. Tell me you’ll stop.”

His drive never seeming to slow down, he requested, voice muffled her neck. he requested. 

“Tell me you stop stealing, robbing, dealing. Tell me you’ll stop, then I’ll let you come”

“I’ll stop. Yes, please. I’ll stop, I’ll stop. Jason, please let me come.”

“Look me in the eye tell me this again. Like you mean it” he demanded, capturing her chin and moving her look him deep in the eye.

“I’ll stop. I’ll be a good girl… just for you.”

Jason’s hands rubbed her harder, his thrusts making her mind go blank from ecstasy as her body melted onto his. The know below his stomach coming undone as he filled her with his seed, her own orgasm makes her body spasm against his hold.

Riding out his high, he pushed in at a much slower pace. Leaving butterfly kisses on her back as he lowered them both to rest on the mattress.

When he pulled out, Y/n groaned, already missing the sensation of him filling her up.

After cleaning themselves, Jason watched her back rising and falling, breathing finally even , her eyes closed as she laid on her belly. It wasn’t a sight he expected to see anytime soon, or ever, really. But he was glad to be seeing it, he was glad she was here. With him.

Getting back on the bed, he pulled her and hugged her from behind. He laid a soft kiss behind her ear, hearing the quiet sound of her breath.

“Do you bring many of his villains here?” she gently asked.

“Only the potentially dangerous ones.”

“I hope you have tapped your night with the Joker then. I’d be really interested in watching that”

Throwing his head back, Jason blurted out laughing. Y/n’s heart beat faster at the sound, wishing to hear it more often.

“Relax. He didn’t catch my attention like you.” he confessed, returning to leave kisses on her skin, something he found himself addicted to. “No one did.”

“Good!” she said, and she tightened his hold onto her middle. “I don’t want your attention anywhere else.”

. tag list (i can't believe i've got one of those lmao, thank you so much for the love you've given this story ♡

@dolliezxo @stevesdick @miraculous-panic @kk00789 @alecmoress @parkjammys @biggetywitch @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @dakotali @theendofthematerialgworl

[silantryoo]

midnight rain — huh yunjin x non-idol!reader

yunjin can't help but reminisce about what she left to achieve her dreams.

WARNINGS ; self-depreciation, cyber-bullying

TAGS ; the huh sisters are the best, y/n is the most supportive gf ever, yunjin sacrificed sm, someone check on y/n, idek if this is a happy ending or not, yunjin using y/n as a coping mechanism tbh

GENRE ; fluff, angst (4.2k)

huh yunjin had the whole world in the palm of her hands.

there were thousands of people out there, longing for the idol's attention. she could win anyone's heart over, just with a couple words and her goofy smile, but none of them could ever compare to you.

huh yunjin might rule the world, but you still and will always rule hers.

-

yunjin met you right after she had finished produce 48.

she had left korea feeling like a shell of her former self. yunjin had gotten the taste of a dream that she so badly longed for, and one she most likely would never be able to achieve again. she had missed her only chance, and there was no getting it back.

it didn't help that mainland korea had turned its back on the then-aspiring idol.

she had read through the produce forums almost daily since then. yunjin spent hours scrolling, letting every horrible thing said build inside her like a sickly virus.

glad huh yunjin didn't make it. she's a backstabbing bitch. (+193, -21)

did huh yunjin die? i hope so (+86, -7)

i hope huh yunjin never debuts!!!!!!!!! (+273, -11)

huh yunjin knew she was done for.

she went back to new york mid-september a year later, back to the high school that she dreaded going to, another reminder that she will never, ever be who she wanted.

"um," yunjin felt a tap on her shoulder. "you know the school library isn't open twenty-four hours, right?"

"huh?" yunjin wiped her eyes. she glanced at the clock behind the strange girl. 7:12. "shit, sorry. i didn't realize."

"it's fine. i'm closing this place up soon." yunjin watched as the girl's eyes locked onto hers. she could feel her heart in her throat. "you can stay, if you want."

"i want to, uh..." yunjin cleared her throat. "i'll stay."

"okay."

yunjin forgot about everything for a moment.

"okay."

yunjin was never a studious person.

the girl had decent grades, but she never actually put effort into studying, not like her sister or her friends around her. it came to her naturally, and yunjin had other priorities such as working on her musical skills (something that she had abandoned as soon as she stepped foot on american soil once more).

but a week later, yunjin found herself sitting in front of her younger sister, watching as she did her homework.

"unnie?" her sister, rachel, eyed the brunette weirdly. "why are you here?"

"why?" yunjin stared at the empty desk in front of her, looking around the library to find the others full of papers. "can't i study?"

"no. you can't." rachel tapped her pencil. "you're literally incapable of studying."

"wow, okay." the former trainee scoffed. "i've had a change of heart."

rachel shook her head.

"i get losing in produce sucks, but i don't think you could do a 180 that fast." yunjin winced, rachel opening up fresh wounds. the older huh knew that the girl was just trying to make light of the situation, but it still hurt like hell. "it's been like... three weeks."

yunjin knew it had been three weeks. three weeks, two days, and five hours since she landed back in america. she didn't need rachel to remind her, not when the entire world already had.

"can you shut up?" yunjin snapped, gripping the backpack she was holding on her lap.

the younger huh flinched, the silence of the library amplifying yunjin's aggression.

rachel looked at her sister, yunjin's eyes shut tight as she tried to calm herself down. the young girl had never been good with emotions, but she wanted nothing more than to tell her sister that it was okay to feel upset.

(even if rachel knew yunjin wouldn't listen.)

"oh hey, rach." yunjin's eyes opened, her head turning to the sound of a familiar voice, soothing the former trainee. "what are you doing?"

rachel hummed, setting her pencil down. "working on the assignment from our econ class."

you made your way between the huh sisters, looking at the diligent note-taking of the younger girl to your left.

"why?" you muttered. you were sure that the due date didn't change. "that's due next week."

"no?" you felt your heart drop. "it's due tomorrow."

"oh shit." your eyes widened, covering your mouth. you were screwed. "i need to find nadine."

rachel looked at you with a smile. it was hard to believe that you were only a month younger than yunjin. though yunjin never cared for schoolwork, she was always hardworking when necessary. you on the other hand...

"who was that?"

rachel looked at her sister, yunjin's eyes trained at your retreating figure. "y/n?"

yunjin couldn't help but smile. the name fit you perfectly. "yeah."

"she's my classmate from my AP econ class." rachel squinted. yunjin was a bit too interested in you for it to just be curious. "she's a junior this year... why?"

yunjin's eyes widened, the former trainee's face unable to hide her surprise.

"why are you taking AP?" she tried to change the subject. "aren't you 14?"

"i wanna get into NYU." rachel sighed, picking up the pencil as she bit back multiple remarks that would leave her sister cursing at her. "leave me alone."

yunjin felt a pang in her chest.

it had slipped her mind that she had to think about university now. where she was going to commit, scholarships and loans...

yunjin tried her best to not seem fazed. dreams were meant to be dreamt, not fufilled. the sooner she knew that, the better it was for her.

"you're such a nerd."

"you're literally a theater kid, unnie." rachel bit back, too immersed in her work to notice the mood drop. "you can't talk."

yunjin stared at her sister, hoping that she would never feel that way.

(but in the back of her mind, through all the guilt and anger, she couldn't help but linger at the thought of you).

yunjin was starting to like the library.

it was quiet, and peaceful (minus the many kids who were scrambling to study for a test in the corner of the library). it let her think about everything, letting her sit in her feelings. plus, the library had the ambiance of the produce practice rooms early in the morning, something that the former trainee greatly missed.

"are you here to read through your phone again?"

yunjin could feel the hairs on her neck stand up. "huh?"

yunjin, eyes trained on your figure, watched as you took a seat across from her.

"you and rach look a lot alike." you said, humming as you set your chin on your hand. "i should've known that you were her sister."

yunjin pushed back a smile.

(she'd never tell anyone, but part of her was worried that rachel no longer looked up to her.)

"she told you about me?"

"she brags about you all the time." you smiled at yunjin's grin. "something about being a kpop idol, i dunno. i'm not good with that stuff."

the former trainee pursed her lips.

"oh, well," yunjin chuckled awkwardly, the awkwardness in her chest starting to change into pain. "i don't think that's gonna happen."

you looked her up and down. "why not?"

yunjin could think of multiple reasons, ones that she had internalized so much that she had changed the way she carried herself, but she wasn't going to say that to a random stanger (much less a hot random stranger).

"it didn't work out." yunjin said.

"oh." you scratched your cheek, yunjin nodding shallowly. "well, it's too soon to tell, y'know? you could be like, the next bts or something."

"how can i be the next bts when i'm one person?" yunjin squinted. kpop was so much more than just bts. "plus, bts isn't the only kpop group out there."

"i know that." you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the girl. "you just seem like someone who likes bts."

yunjin could feel herself blushing.

"...yeah."

"see, i already know you." yunjin looked away, afraid that she'd implode if she looked at your smile. "i just need to know your name."

"my name?" yunjin's mind went blank, nearly spitting out a random name. "jennifer."

"jennifer." you smiled harder. "nice to meet you, jennifer. i'm y/n."

and for a moment, right when yunjin's name rolled off of your tongue, yunjin felt seen.

yunjin considered herself a lot of things. as of late, most of them had turned overwhelmingly negative, but regardless, she at least knew that she was in tune with her emotions. she, unlike her sister, was able to identify them, and 'fix' them to the best of her abilities.

however, being around you the past couple of weeks you have told her differently.

yunjin knew she liked you. she liked the way you smiled at her, your gums showing through your crooked smile. she liked the way your hands felt, the way your hand would accidentally bump into hers, making yunjin long for more.

you were everything yunjin had ever dreamt of in a person, but she was sure she was just going to mess it up again.

yunjin sighed, forcing herself to stop thinking about you, a common occurrence that had been recently happening lately.

"unnie." rachel tapped her should, causing the older girl to jump.

she turned to the younger girl and her friends, her locker mirror shaking as she slammed it closed. "what?"

rachel's friend, nadine (if yunjin remembered correctly), said, "you're close with y/n right?"

yunjin clenched her jaw, a burst of anxiety running up her spine. had you gotten hurt? was something wrong? yunjin couldn't help but overthink.

"why?" she hummed.

"you guys aren't dating?" rachel asked, yunjin's eyes widening as big as saucers.

"no," yunjin scoffed, a blush covering her face. if only she could. "what?"

rachel looked at the girl beside her as yunjin avoided the younger students' gazes. her older sister was anything but subtle.

"okay." rachel said slowly, watching as yunjin perked up, waiting to hear any information about you. "derek's planning to ask her out, so i just wanted to make sure you don't go all... you on him."

"okay, i don't go all 'me' on anyone." yunjin crossed her arms. perhaps there had been one incident a year ago that almost got her suspended, but that was only because someone had hit on rachel. yunjin took no fault. "wait... derek mcavoy?"

"yeah?"

yunjin felt her stomach sink.

she considered herself many things, passionate being one of them. sometimes, yunjin passion could get in the way of her rational thinking.

"hey, do you guys know who sent me these flowers?" yunjin could hear your voice behind her, getting closer to her. "i think they're trying to kill me."

yunjin clenched her fist.

"aren't you allergic to those?" rachel blinked at you, staring at daisies that were in your hand.

how you weren't dead? she had no clue.

"severely." you sighed, looking at the bouquet in front of you. "i had to take my inhaler."

rachel shook her head, looking at her sister who was staring into the distance, face stoic and eyes glazed over. the younger girl sighed. it was happening.

"jen," you called out to her, bringing her out of her head. yunjin turned to you. "do you think one of your fans reached me?"

yunjin's eyes met yours, hardened and swirling with an emotion that you could only identify as anger and regret. looking over to rachel, she shrugged as yunjin continued to stare into your soul.

yunjin didn't want to live in regret anymore, not when her daily life was already filled with it.

"go out with me."

yunjin had never heard silence in a crowded hallway until that very moment.

"what?"

("unnie?")

"go out with me, y/n." yunjin stated, pushing down the embarrassment threatening to take over her entire body.

("should we be here?")

"uh..." you took a breath, your gummy smile making yunjin overflow with happiness. "okay."

yunjin had never felt happiness like that in her life.

"okay."

yunjin would be lying if she said she was satisfied with how her life was right now.

she had everything that anyone could want at her age. her grades, although not to ivy league standard, could get her in a good college if she kept her current pace. she had no family problems, and yunjin had always gotten along with rachel.

most of all, she was in a great relationship, celebrating her first valentine's with the girl she had slowly fallen in love with over the past four months.

but it wasn't enough, because this life will never be enough for yunjin.

"oh my god," yunjin smiled, turning her phone off as you entered her room. "is that huh yunjin from produce 48 where iz*one was created?"

although not as strong, yunjin felt a dull ache in her chest.

"you're so annoying." yunjin rolled her eyes, sitting up to greet you with a kiss.

"hey, i got into kpop for you so we could bond as a couple." you teased, humming against her lips. the taller girl smiled. "how am i annoying?"

"i didn't say i hated it." she whispered, moving over to give you a seat. "i missed you."

truthfully, yunjin did miss you, especially the way you made her forget her failures, even if it was just for a moment.

"i saw you yesterday." you teased. you grabbed her hand, smiling at her. "but i missed you too."

you leaned in once more, capturing the girl's mouth against yours. you always felt an overwhelming sense of love whenever you kissed the taller girl, but yunjin always felt a sense of fear. the fear of becoming content with a life like this, a life without doing what she loved.

you pulled away. "me or bts?"

yunjin groaned, guilt simmering in her stomach. "you're the worst."

"i know." you giggled, kissing her cheek.

yunjin sighed, leaning back as she slammed her back onto her bed.

you followed her suit, the short haired girl wrapping her arm around you as you snuggled close into her body.

"tired?" you asked, stroking her hair out of her face.

"this week has been kicking my ass." yunjin knew she had done it to herself, tuning into the japanese tabloids that week to keep tabs on iz*one's debut. "but it is our very first valentines together. plus, i think you're my gift from cupid."

you scoffed playfully, trying to pull away from the ex-trainee. "am i just an object to you, jennifer?"

"hey, no!" yunjin whined, shoving her face into your neck. you giggled, feeling the strands of her hair against your neck. "and don't use my full government name."

"sorry, sorry." you smiled, watching as her eyes looked into yours. "what do you want me to call you instead?"

yunjin thought for a moment, her eyes darting to your mouth. "mine."

your smile dropped, and you pulled away from her, the korean whining at the loss of contact.

"ugh." you sat up, shaking your head. "jesus, jen... that was disgusting."

she gasped, sitting up beside you. "you dated me knowing that i'm like this."

"no." yunjin frowned, and you couldn't help but smile at her adorable face. "i dated you because you're hot."

"wow." yunjin's mouth hung open, trying hard not to smile as you attacked her cheek with kisses as an apology. "so you only love me for my face."

you pulled back, raising your eyebrow. "who said i loved you?"

yunjin stared at you, hearing her heart break slowly.

she knew it wasn't your fault, but yunjin couldn't help but find herself feeling the same way she had at the beginning of the school year.

"i'm sorry, i--"

"i do, though. love you, i mean." you cleared your throat, awkwardly scratching your cheek as you looked at the ground. "i'm just trying to figure out how you know when i literally never told anyone until now."

yunjin smiled at you, taking your features in as if to memorize you.

"i love you too."

yunjin watched as your eyes swarmed with adoration, and nothing had ever scared her so much than the feeling of fulfillment that spread through her chest.

"you do?" you whispered, looking into her eyes, finding nothing but sincerity in them.

but something was off, you could feel it in the air. the way the weight of the room had gotten heavier, almost as if the burden of your girlfriend filled the entire thing.

yunjin looked away, and that was enough to know that deep down, she never wanted to fall in love with you, not like this.

"yeah." yunjin muttered, smiling through her smile. "i do."

you smiled through your pain, wanting nothing more than to feel love instead of regret.

"the famous huh yunjin is in love with me?" you joked, watching as her face morphed into a more playful tone.

"shut up."

"okay." you nodded, wondering how long you had left with her. "only because i love you."

"i love you too."

yunjin had meant every word she said, even if it came with layers of regret.

yunjin had heard from koeun a month ago that source music had opened back up, this time under new management, a much more competent one.

when the former trainee heard the news, she refused to get her hopes up. she had come to terms with how her life was now. yunjin still felt the what-ifs from time to time, but she couldn't do anything about it, even if she so badly wanted to.

she hid it well from her family, the longing for the spotlight, to perform. they didn't ask her questions about why she would skip dinner, sitting in front of her computer as she waited for a stupid email to pop up.

(you knew, however. and it pained you to know that your girlfriend would never truly be happy with you.)

you pushed it down, waiting for the right time to bring it up to her. you just wished it didn't have to happen today.

"hey, jen. sorry i kept you waiting. your mom tried to force-feed me once i stepped through the door. she thinks you aren't feeding me enough." you laughed as you set your sweater to the side of her room, making your way over to kiss her forehead. "happy six months, baby."

yunjin wiped her face, looking at the monitor of her laptop. "happy six months."

yunjin didn't look at you, afraid that she'd lose everything as soon as her eyes locked onto your eyes.

"what's up?" you wiped her tears. she hung her head low, the light of the monitor illuminating her tear streaks. "you don't look as happy as i do."

yunjin was silent, waiting for you to look at the screen in front of her.

you turned your head, skimming over the english text found in the email. it was bound to happen, and you had tried your hardest to prepare yourself for it. you hoped it was enough to keep the facade up long enough.

"oh, jen." you rubbed yunjin's back, watching as her tears fell harder. "are you going back?"

yunjin shook her head, not wanting to think about it. "i don't know."

"do you want to?"

you already knew your answer a long time ago.

"i don't know." yunjin didn't mean to lie, but she loved you. "i don't want to leave you."

"it's fine." you whispered in her ear, swallowing your tears back. "i'll be fine."

yunjin wrapped her arms around you, her head buried in your neck as sobs wracked her body. she couldn't do it again. she couldn't lose everything she's worked for again.

yunjin couldn't lose you for nothing.

"what if it doesn't go well, and i just ended us for nothing?" yunjin asked in between sobs, gripping the back of your shirt.

"so you want to go?"

yunjin's face fell, pulling back from you as you smiled at her with teary eyes.

yunjin loved your smile.

"baby..."

"it's okay, i promise." you nodded, trying to push through the pain. "you'll be fine. i believe in you."

yunjin shook her head. she didn't deserve it. she didn't deserve your support, not if she's leaving you like this.

"i finally accepted it." yunjin blubbered, too emotional to realize what she said. "i can't go through this again."

you bit your upper lip, looking away briefly. hearing yunjin say it was different from knowing that you were just the second choice.

"i know." yunjin's face was wet with tears, a never-ending flow of remorse. "but you won't, because you'll debut this time."

yunjin shook her head. "how do you know that?"

"because you're jennifer huh. you're the girl who came back here, fighting to be okay again even though deep down you knew that it wasn't what you wanted." you kissed her nose, watching as her nose crinkled at the contact. you smiled. "you're the girl i'm in love with."

yunjin felt a weight lift off of her shoulders.

"i'm in love with you too." yunjin sniffed. "i don't want to leave you."

you looked into yunjin's eyes, and you saw nothing but passion, passion for you.

if there was one thing that you loved yunjin, it was her overwhelming sense of passion. but at times like these, you hated it.

you watched her for a moment.

"then i'll leave you."

"what?" yunjin's eyes widened, moving her hands onto your arm. "no."

"you want us to make it work?" you asked her, almost challenging her at the ridiculous thought.

you two were high school kids, two girls who fell in love because of a missed opportunity, an opportunity that yunjin was willing to jeopardize for you.

yunjin could feel her fears coming true.

"i..."

"baby, what are they gonna think once they find out about us if we even manage to make it through until your debut?" you told her, furrowing your eyebrows.

"i don't know."

yunjin looked at you through the thick silence, almost as if she was trying to memorize you one more time.

"it's a good thing we're both private people, huh?" you chuckled, the knot in your throat becoming bigger. "imagine all the people you'd have to pay off. i mean, you guys are rich but st--"

"can you not?" yunjin whispered. "please?"

"sorry." you cleared your throat, looking away as tears were starting to form in your eyes (not yet. please.). "do you want me to go?"

"no." yunjin said with sincerity. "i just want to spend one more day with you."

yunjin stared at you desperately pleading for you to agree. she just needed to hold you one more time, to listen to your voice. she just needed one more day to memorize you before she lost you.

"okay."

one day was enough for you, even if you'd love her for the rest of your life.

"okay."

you untangled yourself from her at three in the morning the next day, eyes bloodshot and arms tired from holding her as if she was going to disappear.

you wiped your eyes, and placed your forgotten sweater on her desk, tucking a piece of paper in the pocket.

you were going to break soon, and you didn't want yunjin to see the broken pieces she'd leave in new york.

looking at the girl once more, you gave her one more kiss on the forehead, hoping that she'd remember you with only happiness and love.

you left yunjin's room, clenching your mouth as you tried your best not to sob.

"y/n?"

"night, rach." you tried to walk away, the younger girl following you to the door.

rachel looked at you with a frown, watching as you struggled to put your shoes on. "are you okay?"

you looked up at her, your eyes red as you smiled. you haven't heard someone ask that in a while.

"no." you grinned, the tears streaming down your face betraying you.

"thank you for doing this for unnie." rachel said, watching as you stiffened up. she wished she could do something more, but this wasn't her expertise. "it's probably killing you."

"i'll be fine." you whispered, standing up to face the girl.

"come study with me later?" she asked, a small smile on her face.

you hated how much rachel looked like her sister.

"okay." you patted her shoulder, rachel opening the door as you fished for your keys. "thanks rachel. you would've made a good sister-in-law."

rachel winced. not at the comment, but at the way your face morphed into an emotion she had yet to feel.

"you too."

"yunjin-ah!"

yunjin groaned as chaewon yelled at her from across the dorm. no matter how hard she tried to rest, there was someone who always needed something from her.

"you know that hoodie i was gonna borrow?" yunjin grunted, earning a smack on the head from chaewon. the taller girl looked up, staring face to face with an old piece of paper. "this fell out of it."

"huh?" yunjin didn't remember leaving anything in her pockets.

chaewon hopped on the couch, sitting beside her roommate.

"it's a letter." yunjin knew your writing anywhere.

"oh?"

dear jen,

i'm rooting for you, jen. just like i always have and just like i always will be.

i love you, jen l/n y/n.

"who's y/n?"

"someone." yunjin whispered, memories suddenly flooding her brain. "you can't wear that hoodie though, that one's special."

chaewon whined. "why?"

"you can't." yunjin stated, chaewon watching closely as she hummed, the taller girl having a small smile on her face. "now, let's go get food."

"you're so weird."

i love you too, y/n.

silan says " pls pray for me... i cannot fail my final ;-; "

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 48]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.3K

Two weeks passed really quickly with you going into the studio early in the morning and coming back late at night, juggling multiple projects at one go. Sometimes, you would work from your home studio just to be around Mingi. But he too would occasionally go to his studio to work and write lyrics.

Today, Mingi told you he would be coming home late since he was meeting some old friends for dinner. Lucky for you though because or else he would ask where you currently were.

Which was the police station.

"Miss (y/l/n)?" The familiar face of the officer came out. You stood up, pulling your hood tighter around your head.

"Your phone call sounded urgent. What's the matter?" She invited you to take a seat in the private room. You sat down and she sat adjacent from you.

"I-I..." You couldn't even form the words to begin to explain to her what happened.

"It's okay, take your time." She smiled softly, speaking patiently. She reached out to put her hand over your shaky, clamy one.

"I got this... I-it was delivered to my house... M-My new house..." You took a thick envelope out from your hoodie pocket and slid it over to her. She cast you a confused look and was about to open it when you stopped her.

"It's... from the person." You gulped. She immediately withdrew her hands. Standing up, she went to a cabinet to grab a pair of gloves. She wore the white gloves and opened the envelope.

Your bottom lip quivered as she flipped through the photos. Photos of you coming in and out of the building, different Ateez members as well. And the threatening letter.

"W-What should I do? Is there nothing that can be done?" You asked, fear and panic in your voice.

"I'll submit this to the evidence box. We'll try to get fingerprints off it." She said, putting the photos back into the envelope.

"I'll look at the footage in the building vicinity. But this person is careful, never actually doing the deliveries themselves." She sighed, giving you a pitiful look.

"Please, I don't want your pity. I just need something done about this, anything. The packages that have been coming into KQ, have been getting from bad to worse. Even the security guards are getting freaked out by the contents of it." You begged with deperation laced in your voice.

"I'm sorry, (y/n). There's just not much I can go off on now. I wish there was more I can do." She rubbed your arm.

"It could be a group, it could be an individual. But we've seen cases like this before, those crazed fans are relentless." She said. Was that supposed to make you feel better?

"I can't keep moving houses or keeping myself cooped up in my apartment. This isn't going to go away." You wiped your tears.

"Yes, it's not fair to you." She passed you a tissue box.

"Officer Yoon, this isn't just some crazed fan. All evidence points to an inside job, this person is inside KQ. Isn't that something you can use to launch an investigation?" You asked.

"I promise to keep working to launch an investigation as soon as possible." Her empty promise wasn't enough.

"Actually, another thing I wanted to ask you about. I saw that there was another case filed. Against a Mr Lee Seyoon? For assault. Can you tell me more about what happened?" She asked, pulling up the file on her iPad.

"Yes. He assaulted me while we went overseas for a film project. The company knows about that." You replied.

"Do you have any suspicions at all that he may be connected to the person or people that are threatening you?" She cleared her throat. You shook your head.

"He was too obsessed with himself or the fact that I wouldn't submit to him. Then he wanted to unmask me. Nothing to do with my relationship or what the threats have been about." You informed.

"Have you told your partner about this yet?"

"No. I don't want to drag him into this. Especially since we haven't got anything to go off on." You hung your head.

Of course, it hurt you to admit that you were deliberately hiding this from Mingi. It hurt you to imagine how it would be like if he knew that you were hiding this from him. You knew that it would break him and break your relationship. But you couldn't tell him, knowing the guilt and remorse you would cause him to feel.

"You shouldn't bottle this up, (y/n). You should tell him what's going on." She adviced. It was easy for her to say. You stood up and bowed before walking out.

"(y/n), wait." She called out but you were already out of the police station. You kept your head low as you rode the cab back.

"Hwa?" You whimpered on the phone.

"Indigo? What's wrong? What happened?" Seonghwa's voice indicated the sudden panic he felt when he heard how broken your voice was.

"Are you busy? Can I see you, please?" You tried to keep it together in the back of the cab.

"Of course. I'm not busy, I'm in the dorm. Are you home?" You heard some movement and shuffling on the other side of the call.

"No but I will be home soon..." You said and hung up. When the cab pulled up in the driveway, you paid the driver and got out. You rushed into the lobby, now worried that someone was always watching you wherever you were going.

When the lift door opened, Seonghwa was waiting outside your front door with a worried frown on his face. You tried to hold it together as you unlocked the door and invited him in.

"Hwa..." The moment the door closed, you let out a choked sob and hugged him.

"It's okay, it's okay. I got you. I'm here." He said, wrapping his arms around you securely, rubbing your back.

"It's okay, little star. It's alright." He whispered. You lost feeling in your legs, causing the both of you to sink to the ground. He kept his secure grip on you.

"Are you hurt?" That was what Seonghwa was worried about the most but he didn't get to check you for any injuries. When he felt you shake your head against his chest, he let out a sigh of relief. At least you weren't hurt. But he still didn't press you to tell him what happened, he wanted you to calm down first.

Seonghwa moved you to the couch, closing his eyes as you heard his wrecked sobs against his shoulder. He lifted your face and wiped your face with a tissue.

"Oh, Indigo..." His heart hurt seeing how distraught you were and the fact that he didn't know how to help you.

"What happened? Tell me, hmm?" He coaxed, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I got these... these photos... They were sent here... To this address..." You said between sobs, continuing to wipe your tears with the ends of your sleeves.

"And this person...T-They... T-They threatened to hurt... A-All of you... Especially M-Mingi." You looked up at him with fearful eyes.

"Indigo." He hugged you again.

"We'll be okay, nothing will happen to us or Mingi." He assured. But you knew there wasn't a guarantee. Idols get hurt by crazy sasaengs all the time, there was never 100% guarantee of safety, no matter how many bodyguards or precautions there were.

"I don't care... If they hurt me... I'll take it... But I don't want them to hurt any of you... Oh God, I can't even imagine it." You heaved, feeling your stomach churn uncomfortably.

"No, don't say that. Don't think that. You think Mingi would want to see you hurt? Or any of us? Would I want to see you taking all this hurt on your own?" He frowned, holding your wrists in his hands.

"What should I do, Hwa?" You cried.

"What did the case officer say when you gave the photos and letter?" He asked, his tone soft and patient again.

"S-She said she'll try to p-push for an internal in-investigation. But that's all she can do now. T-There are no clues." Your breaths were shaky and wrecked.

"H-Hwa..." You gulped and looked back up at him. He raised his eyebrows slightly as he listened.

"T-There was something... That s-scared me... even more." You said.

"What's that?"

"There were pictures of Haneul." You told him. That was it, you burst into another round of sobs. Seonghwa reached over to gather you in his arms, as if trying to prevent you from falling apart even more but it was too late. He pressed his cheek to the top of your head as he rubbed your back to try and comfort you.

"I'm sorry, Indigo." That was all he could say. Seonghwa couldn't imagine the fear that you were feeling now. Haneul was your world, your treasure, your reason. Everyone knew that.

Now that a threat was directed at her, Seonghwa could only try to understand how you must feel so defeated and hopeless.

He couldn't even promise you that she would be safe. Because how could he make that promise? That nothing will happen to her when even he didn't know.

"Indigo, you should tell our CEO about this. He might know what to do or offer you some security protection until an investigation is launched." He said.

"I will... I informed Eden earlier..." You nodded glumly.

"Also, I know you don't want to but you should tell Mingi and Hongjoong at least. Hongjoong has more brains than me when it comes to giving advise like this." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"No... Hwa. You and Jongho have been helping me so much... Mingi's going to think that this is his fault, that he caused this to happen... He just finished his home leave after the incident, I don't want something similar to happen again." You shook your head.

"Alright, alright. You don't worry about that for now." He placed a hand on your head then tucked you under his arm.

You fell asleep like that, mentally and emotionally exhausted. Seonghwa only managed to move you so that you laid your head in his lap. He couldn't bear to leave you alone.

"Baby, I'm ho- Hyung?" Mingi stood there, shocked.

"Shh." Seonghwa put a finger to his lips to shush the taller male. Mingi blinked, wondering if he drank too much and was hallucinating. He only had two drinks.

"What are you doing here?" Mingi whispered, seeing how the older naturally stroked your hair like you were a cat.

"I came down to accompany her. We watched a movie and she fell asleep." He lied smoothly.

"I'm glad she wasn't alone then." Mingi bent down in front of you. His hand must have been cold because when it made contact with your cheek, you shivered in your sleep. He couldn't help but smile softly and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. That was when he noticed how puffy your eyes were.

"Did she cry?" He looked up at the older, eyebrows furrowing in worry as he caressed your cheek.

"She insisted on watching a sad movie..." Seonghwa acted exasperated, shaking his head to make it more convincing.

"Typical. Shall I move her to the room? Then you can go upstairs and sleep in your bed more comfortably." Mingi offered. To be honest, he wished you were sleeping in his lap now.

"Be careful." Seonghwa cautioned. He knew you would want comfort from Mingi now, even asleep.

"I will." Mingi carefully slipped his arms under you and lifted you up. Seonghwa trailed behind, watching Mingi lay you on the bed.

"Mings...?" You stirred, opening your eyes slightly.

"Hey, baby. Go back to sleep, hmm?" Mingi cooed, stroking your hair to coax you back to sleep. You leaned into his touch and fell back asleep. He tucked you in and walked out to see Seonghwa standing there, ready to head back.

"Thanks for accompanying her, hyung. I'll see you tomorrow?" Mingi bowed his head. Seonghwa nodded, offering a small smile and a pat on the shoulder before leaving.

Standing outside the closed door, Seonghwa let out a small sigh. Although he was concerned about leaving you, he couldn't do anything that would rouse Mingi's suspicion so he had to act and lie.

"Sorry, Mingi ah." He was riddled with guilt for lying to Mingi when he knew it wasn't right.

Meanwhile, Mingi went to take a quick shower and joined you in bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to him.

"I love you." He kissed the top of your head.

-

You left the house before Mingi woke up. You were not able to face him after what you went through yesterday, a part of you scared you might cry if he spoke to you.

"You can't avoid him forever, can't you?" You sighed to yourself, resting your head against your hand as you stared blankly at the screen in front of you. Since you came in, you haven't been able to get any work done. There was just too much going on now in your head now to do work.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Coming." You pushed yourself to stand up, already knowing who was here. You opened the door to let Eden in while you walked to your desk to get your phone and coffee glass.

"What is that?" Eden asked as the odd coloured liquid you were drinking. It definitely wasn't just coffee.

"Coffee, energy drink and ginseng extract." You replied.

"Okay now I may not be a nutritionist or doctor but I know that can't be healthy." Eden took the glass from your hand and placed it back down on the coffee table.

"Just thought it would help me focus a little." You ran a hand through your hair, wearing your beanie.

"It'll be okay, Indigo. I'm glad you're doing this." He smiled softly. You nodded your head, not really saying anything. Was everything really going to be okay? Was this really the best option for you now? Your head was muddled with different thoughts.

"Let's go." That was all you could say. Eden nodded and walked out of your studio with you. While you took the lift up together, you closed your eyes for a brief second and took a deep breath.

"You can lower your mask to take a few breaths, I'll face the other way." Eden offered.

"It's fine." You shook your head. When the doors opened and you stepped out, you gulped. You looked at the all the offices.

"It's this way." Eden guided you. You wordlessly and thoughtlessly followed him. As you stopped in front of the door, Eden knocked and opened it.

"Indigo, Eden. Come in." The male stood up from his desk.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet me, I mean, us, on such short notice CEO Kim." You bowed as you walked in. Eden walked behind you and closed the door once the both of you were in. The suited male nodded with an understanding smile. He gestured for you and Eden to take a seat opposite him.

"So, what can I do for you?" CEO Kim leaned on his hands. From a expectant tone of his voice, you knew that he was hoping you were here to tell him that you would be staying on with KQ.

"It's not good news, I'm afraid." You said, setting his expectation. He hummed, nodding his head.

"Go on." He encouraged nonethless.

"I... There's no nice way to say this... So I'll just come out and say it." You gulped. You watched as his eyebrows raised slightly in interest as he leaned back in his chair.

"I've been in a relationship with Mingi for a few months now." You winced as you said it.

"I see..." Was all he said, his face void of any emotion.

"My deepest apologies, sir. For causing this much trouble. I'll take full responsibility on this, not Mingi." You stood up and formally bowed to him. He sighed.

"You're apologising for being in a relationship?" He asked. You were stunned by his question. Of anything and everything that he could ask, you were not expecting that. You thought he would tear your contract to shreds right in front of you.

"N-No, of course not. I love Mingi, I still do, with all my heart. I don't think I've ever loved someone like that before." You said firmly.

"Then? Yes, it is minorly inconvenient but the boys don't have a dating ban. It's been announced since Day 1 so I don't exactly see the issue here." He cleared his throat.

"That's not the issue per say, Mr Kim. Actually, Indigo's been getting harrassed by someone." Eden spoke.

You were still reeling from the shock of the CEO's reaction to you telling him that you were dating Mingi. Wa he truly okay with it?

"Harrassed? By fans?" That made him frown.

"No... I've been receiving threats. It started with harmless emails and server messages but I was followed home, I've received threatening packages and letters here. And yesterday, photos were sent to my new apartment. Photos of me, the Ateez boys and the child under my care." You nearly cracked at the last part.

"Alright, I see that that's an issue. Well, have you and Mingi been seen in public alone? Or gone on dates outside? Anywhere fans could have spotted you two?" He asked.

"No, sir. We're really careful." You said.

"The police have been informed, Mr Kim. The reason why we're bringing this up to you and not the legal team is that there's suspicions of this being an inside job." Eden informed.

"Wait, someone who works here is the culprit? A KQ employee?" CEO Kim was in shock and disbelief.

"Everyone hired goes through a rigorous screening process, Eden. Accusing a KQ employee is a big claim." He cautioned.

"We know. But evidence points to it. The only other place where people might have seen Mingi and Indigo together is here at the office." Eden reasoned.

"And this person knows I moved. The only people who have access to my new address would be someone with access to internal data since the KQ team was the one who found my new apartment for me." You added.

"Who else knows about this? Mingi, I'm assuming. And Hongjoong, given your close relationship with him." CEO Kim asked.

"They don't know. I haven't been able to tell them. Besides Eden, Jongho and Seonghwa know. Jongho guessed and Seonghwa saw one of the threatening emails." You told him.

"I see. Good that the news doesn't spread then. The media might catch wind of it." He thought out loud.

"Say that it is someone internal, what's the next course of action then?" CEO Kim asked.

"With enough evidence, the police want to launch an internal investigation." You chewed on your bottom lip. He nodded his head, knowing he would have to agree to the internal investigation.

"I'm not trying to scare you but I have to be honest with you. This can become very bad, very quickly if word gets out, which we all know it will. The media will have a field day spinning stories and tearing the company to shreds. And that also means your identity might also be leaked, Indigo." He sighed.

"I am aware. This could also cause the boys' comeback to be pushed back. Therefore, I've spoken with Eden. And the best option would be to leave KQ." You said, swallowing the lump in your throat.

~

Series Masterlist

[aliciavance4228]

Apparently, this is how Hera got pregnant with Hephaestus, according to the Second Vatican Mythographer, 48. On Erichthonius:

"When Jupiter and Juno had produced many children through their union, at least it pleased them to beget children without sexual union, to prove their divinity. Then from his beard Jupiter sired Pallas, also called Diana. … After Juno touched her own genital parts, she brought forth Vulcan."

*thank you deathlessathanasia for the fragment*

The fact that Hera conceived him through Parthenogenesis already raises a lot of guestions, but the possibility that a goddess only has to masturbate herself in order to get pregnant is equally hilarious and terrifying.

That means that goddesses cannot/avoid masturbating themselves, because to them five minutes of pleasure could lead to nine months of torment (not like sex is too different but you got the idea). Are you going to tell me that Nyx conceived her children through masturbation too? That Gaia conceived Ouranos through masturbation as well?

I really don't want to think of this dialogue between Zeus and Hera:

Hera: If thou shall brought golden Athena then I shall bear a glorious spawn too.

Zeus: Thou fingered thy coochee?

[That was a stupid joke. Sorry.]

Anyway, the idea on itself is cursed. Whatever the one who wrote this smoked I don't want it.

[fairyniceyeah]

⌛🐿️ Tears in diamond

Title from Better (ATEEZ)

Summary: Hongjoong is sick, overwhelmed and in need of taking care of. Too bad that Award season was in the near future. Yet he doesn’t make it through, collapsing backstage.

CW: emeto, idol mistreatment, hospitals, CPR, critical medical conditions

Sickie: Hongjoong Caretaker: mainly Seonghwa (feat. Eden + Maddox)

03:48 o’clock in the morning. Hongjoong rubbed his eyes tiredly and placed his headphones on the desk next to his laptop. Resting his head in his hands he groaned. He just wanted to go home and sleep, his head was pounding in tune with every beat of the new song he was trying to produce. Emphasis on trying. Who would have thought that preparing for another Award show, a concert cycle and having interviews and photoshoots daily would mean that the only time for producing for the new album would only be at night? Certainly not the person who had planned all of this. Why had he agreed to the schedule again? Right, because he had no choice.

And no good new songs. But a headache, a lack of sleep and an annoying rasp in his throat. ‘Congratulations, Hongjoong, you won it all’, he thought bitterly to himself. He was very acutely aware that self-pity would not help him at the moment, thank you very much. But he thought he could at least give himself five minutes to miss a regular sleep cycle and his bed. Oh, his warm, cozy bed with Seonghwa softly snoring in the bed under him. He pushed the keyboard away and laid his head on the table. Five minutes, then he would go on.

⌛

He awoke to someone shaking him gently. “What?”, he groaned, shooting upright and nearly falling out of his swivel chair as a result. Apparently all the grace he possessed on stage he had forgotten there.

“Joongie”, Eden’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, “you promised you would go home last night.”

“I did?”, Hongjoong asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, coughing softly against the still annoying tickle in his throat.

“Yes”, Eden’s voice was sharp and gentle at the same time. Hongjoong didn’t know how he did it. Whenever he tried the same tone of voice with his members he always came off as sharp and angry. He always apologised to whoever was at the mercy of his poor ability to regulate his tone afterwards but couldn’t help but feel bad about it.

“We will talk about it later, young man”, Eden continued, oblivious to Hongjoong’s inner monologue, “your members are looking for you. You have English lessons in… uh…” He looked at his watch. “seven minutes ago.”

“Shit”, Hongjoong cursed, jumping up and again nearly falling as his head swam at his sudden height change. Damn his clumsiness. Only Eden’s hand on his arm prevented him from faceplanting in his studio. “Thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience. See you later, hyung.”

“Hongjoong, wait”, Eden called. He turned around, one hand reaching for the doorknob. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, hyung. Just tired, I really gotta go, bye.”

⌛

He made his way through the halls as fast as possible without running. His legs felt too much like lead for that, his breathing not quite as deep as he would wish. He had to stop to catch his breath as he rounded the corner to the hall which held the English class room. His throat felt raw as he had to cough, his lungs really hating early morning sports. There he was – a more or less famous K-Pop Idol – winded after rushing through the halls of his company building. Sad, really. He couldn’t stop to finish his self-depreciating thoughts though, he was already so late.

Cautiously trying to make himself look more put together and less like he was had just woken up with his forehead glued to his desk at the studio, he walked the last few steps and knocked on the door.

“Enter”, a voice called in English. The teacher sounded pissed. He pushed the door open nevertheless, ignoring the hot flush encompassing his whole body. On stage he loved having ATINY’s and other fans’ eyes on him but here in private about to be scolded? He hated it with every fibre of his being.

“Kim Hongjoong, you are nearly fifteen minutes late”, the teacher said. Hongjoong bowed deeply at a ninety degree angle, suppressing how his lungs didn’t like that as well as the second head rush when he lifted his head to apologise: “I’m very sorry, teacher-nim. I was at the studio. It … wo... won’t happen again.” He answered in English likewise, knowing he would only get scolded for speaking Korean. It was a terrible concept really, how should the members whose English was weaker learn to speak a different language if they never understood the teacher who refused to communicate in Korean or accept question from them? He had wanted to talk with the CEO or at least a manager about that issue but he never had had time for that, other things taking priority.

“You might be the best of your group in English, Mr. Kim, but that doesn’t mean you can just come and go as you please. Many other groups have native English-speakers, you all are seriously lacking. Don’t you think your precious ATINY will turn from you if you can’t communicate with them? How will you gain new fans?”, the teacher raged on. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Seonghwa and Yunho wince, Seonghwa opening his mouth to probably defend him. Hongjoong unobtrusively shook his head.

“So you think you can just stay ignorant of other people’s language?”, the teacher had obviously seen the gesture and interpreted it wrong. Her voice was full of anger.

“No, of course not”, Hongjoong apologized, “I just … I …” Christ, he didn’t even know what to say in Korean. How should he answer in English? He settled on a horribly stuttering: “I apologize again for my lateness. It will not … I won’t be late again.”

“I sure hope so”, she said. “Now, get up. I told you before, bowing won’t help you in other countries. Sit down, don’t interrupt the lesson and stay back for fifteen minutes after, to catch up on what you missed.”

Hongjoong froze. They had fifteen minutes between the lesson and the next interview, which probably would take hours to film, to eat and rest. Now he would have to go without dinner, breakfast and lunch, having forgotten the first and missed the second meal.

“Yes, teacher-nim”, he said and quickly got up to go to his seat next to Yeosang. Again his head swam but he pushed past it, sinking down in the seat grateful to not having to stand on his feet anymore.

He was aware of the curious and worried glances his teammates threw him but he ignored them in favour of glancing at Yeosang’s open book. The teacher luckily didn’t comment on his own book that laid forgotten in the dorm, as he had planned to pick it up when he left the dorm this morning. Since he hadn’t actually been at the dorm today he also had no book. As the teacher turned her back to show something on the projector, Seonghwa slid his book onto his table, having brought it for him. Hongjoong gave him a thankful smile, opening the book on the right page. Speaking and reading comprehension, great.

He listened half-heartedly as the others read passage after passage in the book out loud, then get continuously grilled by the teacher about the content. Wooyoung looked close to tears but Hongjoong had no strength to fight another battle. He felt like the worst leader in K-Pop history for not helping him but he was so tired and achy and his head was still pounding. Worst of all, the coughing hadn’t seemed to be a result of a dry throat and a lack of water. No matter how much he sipped from his bottle, the tickle in his throat never went away. Instead it got worse, especially since Hongjoong refused to cough lest he be accused of disrupting the lesson again.

Then it was his turn. He stuttered badly over his words, his pronunciation and fluency worse than it had been in years. Half-way through the first paragraph he couldn’t hold back anymore and as he nearly choked on spit he started to cough softly, trying to clear his throat. The teachers looked on, unimpressed, while Yeosang pushed his water bottle close, Hongjoong’s own long empty.

He took a few sips, trying not to breath in the liquid. The members were watching him worriedly, a good motivation for him to continue reading out loud. He managed to get through all his assigned paragraph without any major issue, his voice hitching for a few times but not resulting in coughs again. The lesson ended shortly after, at least for the others.

“Teacher-nim”, Seonghwa started, having stayed busy packing his stuff as their dongsaengs rushed out as quickly as possibly. “We only have … short break. Then we have interview and …”

“This is not your concern, is it, Mr. Park? Go.” Seonghwa hesitated but at Hongjoong’s pleading gaze to not cause more drama left. The door fell shut behind him, leaving Hongjoong and the teacher alone. Dread ran though his body but he pushed it aside. He was the captain, he could do this.

“I want you to write an apology to me for being late, being disrespectful and disrupting the lesson on purpose with coughing. I want at least half a page, if you can’t finish it in 15 minutes that is on you. I will only accept a perfect text.”

Hongjoong nodded, ducked his head and started writing. He hated grovelling at other people’s feet and he knew the punishment was unfair and harsh. They couldn’t help their hectic schedules and it would have made no difference if it was his fault for being late or because something else ran long. If it had been anyone else from his team he would have fought for them at this point but he was too tired and exhausted to do it for himself.

He didn’t finish in time but not wanting to be late to the interview and embarrassing the group he wrote his name down and handed the paper in.

He never noticed he signed in Korean.

⌛

The drive to the interview took nearly half an hour, so Hongjoong was able to scarf down the sandwich Wooyoung had saved for him and try to wake up a bit from his down. He was still angry at himself and the teacher, never mind still feeling under the weather. He didn’t want to take a pill for his headache and get questioned for it, so he just downed his whole bottle of water which also might help his throat. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was running a fever – the others were wearing long-sleeved shirts but he was freezing in his hoodie and jacket. Well, nothing he could do for that.

When they arrived at the venue they were immediately swarmed by make-up and hairstylist hyungs and noonas. Right, he didn’t want to look like a hot mess on camera but the make-up irritated his eyes and he shivered in the T-shirt so much that the stylist-hyung gave him a jacket though it would cover the colourful sides of the shirt below.

They were ushered into the recording room, two sofas set up for them. Hongjoong ended up in the middle between Mingi on his sofa, and Jongho on the other sofa. The questions were blended in on the screen behind the camera, luckily in Korean, so he didn’t have to translate. He stayed quiet for most of the interview, only answering questions when they were directed at him or everybody had to answer. His members were very professional, doing their best to be funny and engaging. He felt bad for letting them do all the hard work but he couldn’t help it.

The cameras would keep rolling for the whole interview, so the editors could get the best cut. Which was, in Hongjoong’s opinion, very bad today. His throat constantly threatened to give up on him and force him to cough and secondly he had drank so much water to sooth his throat that his bladder would welcome an actual bathroom break. Just as he resigned himself to speak to ask for a break, already embarrassed before he opened his mouth, the screen went black and the production crew clapped. He hadn’t even realized the group had said their good-byes. Normally he would stay back to talk with the producer but desperate for a moment alone he slipped out the door, already coughing. He wanted to make his way to the bathroom but he had to lean against the wall as his lungs rebelled.

A manager-noona came to find him, looking worried. As he regained his breath, she offered him a bottle of water and a throat lozenge. “Thank you”, he whispered, slightly hoarse, and took a few greedy sips. The manager looked him up and down, then asked: “Are you alright, Hongjoongie? I could probably cancel dance practice for you if you need some rest. That cough sounds bad, I don’t want you to get worse before the Award show and the following concerts.”

“I’ll be fine, just a tickle in my throat”, he answered, giving her a smile that didn’t seem to convince her. “Thank you for checking up on me. I need to use the bathroom but after that I can talk with the producer and thank him.”

“Off you go then.”

They returned to the company building quickly, the producer taking Hongjoong’s apology for rushing off in stride. His eyes kept falling shut on the drive but he knew he needed the dance practice. He just wasn’t as talented in dancing as most of the others, he knew that. He also knew his talents really laid within rap but he still couldn’t help but feel jealous of the ease the others portrayed. Instead his body felt heavy, not wanting to move right and so he ended up making a lot more mistakes than acceptable for one week before Award show season. The other members were throwing him worried glances every time he fought to dance while still coughing or had to stop to catch his breath. He felt bad for making them stay longer than necessary, so after the water break at hour four he stopped them.

“Good job, everybody. You can go home now. Thank you, Yunho-yah, for the practice.”

“What about you, hyung?”, Jongho said, bottle lifted half-way to his mouth, “aren’t you coming home?”

“Uh, no”, Hongjoong said, scratching his head, “I still have to get this dance down, we don’t have much time before the shows and concerts.”

“I can stay with you, Hongjoong-hyung”, Yunho offered, but Hongjoong waved him off. They all deserved their rest.

⌛

Knowing it was futile to argue with him, the others left him to his devices and so he pushed himself to remember the dance for the next three hours. The cough didn’t get better and his head was aching so much he had trouble focusing, even the dimmed light in the studio blinding him. He definitely had a fever, he was shaking badly and still so cold. With a heavy heart he had to admit himself he would not get any better that night, so he wiped off the most off the sweat and made his way to the studio. After all he hadn’t finished the track last night and he was seriously behind.

In the studio he wrapped himself up in the thin blanket he always kept there for sleeping on the couch. He longed to lie down to get some actual rest but he knew he couldn’t. Instead he powered up his laptop, dimmed the brightness and continued working.

Half an hour later his eyes were burning and he couldn’t even see the screen right. Why even have glasses to correct his terrible vision if they didn’t help? He placed them on the desk and rubbed at his eyes to find them wet. Was he crying? Checking his reflection in his dark phone screen he saw that he was really crying, tear tracks running down his face. Huh, he supposed he was more exhausted than he had thought. But then again everything had gone wrong day from English lessons to the Interview. He didn’t even want to think about the dancing. He really was as much of a failure as the English teacher seemed to think.

With a groan, he resigned himself to pleading with the company executives to delay the next album as he would not finish the tracks in time if it continued like this. Knowing he wouldn’t get anything done tonight, he laid down on the sofa and was out like a light, blanket forgotten on the chair and tears still dripping down his lashes.

He woke up multiple times that night, not quite awake but never quite asleep either. It was a horrible kind of sleep, the one you only got when seriously sick and feverish. Nightmares of the English teacher and dark, faceless shapes morphing into his members terrorized his sleep, calling him weak and pathetic. It made his rest fitful and anything but restful. He shivered without the blanket but had no strength to get up and get it. He desperately wished for someone to comforting him and make the sensitivity of his skin against the leather go away.

⌛

Morning came faster than expected and slower than imagined and with it the disappointed eyes of Eden and Maddox who stared down at the Idol with thinly veiled thin patience. Both of them were wearing masks.

Hongjoong sat up, head spinning and chest aching, as he looked up at his mentors with a sheepish expression on his face. Nearly immediately after sitting up he had to cough. He knew he had fucked up, he should have programmed an alarm before the others were to arrive at least to wake up and look more presentable. Hopefully, he didn’t look like he had cried himself to sleep. Shivering, he longed to grab the abandoned jacket, cold and nauseous from tiredness but didn’t want to look even more pitiful than he probably already did.

“Hongjoong-ah”, Eden began, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Imagine my surprise when I told you to go home the day before yesterday, finding out you didn’t, scolding you for that and now finding you here asleep again.”

“I’m really sorry, hyung”, Hongjoong said, bowing his head. Why did it feel like all he did was apologizing? “I didn’t mean to. I just have to finish these tracks and over the daytime I never have time with all the preparations.”

He heard Maddox sigh and then he was wrapped in delicious warmth. The older man had grabbed the blanket and adjusted it over his shoulders. He gave a small nod of thanks, not ready to look up at his hyungs.

“You know that we only want the best for you and ATEEZ, don’t you, Joongie?”, Maddox asked. “That means we can’t have you burning out. You’re exhausted, sleeping here in the studio if you sleep at all. You’re obviously already sick, I can feel your fever from here and you’re bathed in sweat. When we arrived you were in the throes of a nightmare, calling for your members. You need to rest and let your body heal or you won’t be able to continue this lifestyle.”

“But there is so much to do”, Hongjoong said, partially embarrassed and wringing his hands in his lap, “Interviews, concerts, practices, producing new songs, the Award shows…”

“Let us help”, Eden said and Hongjoong looked up at him with wide eyes. The producer had his arms crossed in front of his chest but he looked concerned, “Buddy, Leez, Ollounder, Peperoni, HLB, Oliv and I can look over the songs. I know that ATINY loves seeing your credentials on the songs and they will be there, but ATINY also loves seeing you healthy and happy. You’re working towards burnout. Nobody wants to see you in month long hiatus because it was too much and you didn’t stop before you collapsed.”

“But I should be able to do it!”, Hongjoong burst out. He felt ashamed that it came out so emotional but it was the truth, “I’m the captain, the second oldest, the one the kids look up to, God knows why. If I can’t do this for the group, what kind of leader does that make me? Just look at the other groups, take Bang Chan-hyung. He’s the leader and a rapper and he produces all their songs. Every single one. If I can’t do that what do I bring to the group?”

“I’m going to attribute that to the fever you’re sporting”, Eden said, “that is nonsense and you know it. You bring so much to the group. You said it yourself, the kids look up to you. Seonghwa-yah looks up to you. In fact, we all do. You are an amazing rapper. You care so much about other people, about equality and your group and ATINY. Yes, Bang Chan-ssi does produce Stray Kids’ music, but he is part of 3Racha, all of them produce their music. You’ve got the others helping you sometimes and of course us, but you do most of the work alone. You’re doing so good, Joongie.”

Maddox nodded and added: “If there is something going on, you can come to us you know? You don’t have to stay holed up here alone.”

Hongjoong didn’t know how to reply to that. He took a deep breath to stop the wobbling of his lips and the unpleasant way his breathing started to hitch in anticipation for tears but he had to double over with a rough cough that pulled at his lungs enough that it hurt. A warm hand found its way to his back and then a bottle of water was held in his line of sight. Gratefully he took the water but was unable to open it due to trembling hands. Maddox gently took it from him, opened it and gave it back. Hongjoong sipped at the water, soothing his aching throat. He gave the bottle back, opened his mouth to thank the two and promptly burst into tears.

He valiantly tried to stop, after all how pathetic was it to be crying in his own studio while his mentors watched? A hand rubbed his back again and a soothing voice helped him calm down. He was glad neither of them tried to hug him, Hongjoong was sure he would have died of embarrassment right then and there.

“There you go”, Maddox whispered as Hongjoong regained his breath. “Sorry about that”, Hongjoong mumbled, frantically wiping at his aching eyes. Damn, crying again really hadn’t done his headache any favours. “It’s alright, you needed that, I think”, Maddox comforted, sounding less awkward than Hongjoong would have expected. “Eden-hyung stepped out to call your manager. Congratulations, you just won a one-way ticket to your bed. In the dorms.”

Hongjoong whirled around to look at him, embarrassment momentarily forgotten. “We’ve got dance practice, another interview and a photoshoot today. I can’t just go home.”

“Yes, you can”, the manager-noona from the day before said as she stepped into the studio. “I cancelled all your schedules today in agreement with your lead manager. Lucky for you I was already on the way to the studios when Eden-oppa called me. Anyways you need to do a Covid-test and stay away from the company till it is proven that you are negative.” She held out a mask to him.

“But…”, Hongjoong tried but faltered. His warm, cozy bed sounded fantastic right now. Under three burning gazes he nodded, and with the help of the manager he quickly gathered all his stuff, slipping his headphones into the bag next to his laptop as she had turned her back. With a sigh he put on the mask.

They arrived quickly at the dorm. For once it was empty. It was strange, Hongjoong never saw it that void of occupants and the accompanying sounds and chaos, never really having been home alone. “Do you still have some medication or do you need me to pick something up?”, the manager asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I think we got everything, I will text you if we don’t. Thank you for driving me.”

“Of course, feel better soon, Hongjoongie, and don’t worry about the schedule. Take your temperature, please, and let me know about it and the test results.”

⌛

With the words the manager-noona left him to his own devices and he traipsed into the bathroom to check the cabinets for fever reducers and painkillers. If he wasn’t allowed to work he could at least get comfortable while he didn’t work on his music.

He did indeed find the medication, quickly swallowing the pills dry and drinking straight from the tap to help his throat. He quickly prepared a Covid-test, not having missed putting a stick up his nose. A necessary evil. He started coughing again but ignoring how much he wanted to just curl up in bed, he instead stripped out of his clothes and turned the shower on hot. Finally he wasn’t freezing anymore. He quickly washed the sweat off his body and hair, then just stood there enjoying how the heat cleared his sinuses, reducing the pressure in his chest. It caused him to cough though and he started to get dizzy, so he turned the water off and wrapped his body in towels. He should have brought his pyjamas with him.

He walked through the cold halls, bare feet freezing, before he pushed the door to the room he shared with Seonghwa open. He changed into pyjamas and stole one of his Yunho’s comfy hoodies which was more of a dress on him because the outside of the shower was so cold. He quickly grabbed his bag from where he had left it in the hall, made himself some tea and got another water bottle. Remembering his manager-noonas words he fished out the thermometer from under the sink and texted her a number that was well below the ”38.6°C” blaring and beeping at him.  Whatever, he was probably just overly warm from the shower and with the medication it would go away. He hoped. The test proved to be negative as well.

Finding their shared humidifier on Jongho’s night table, he plugged it in in their room and stared at the steps up to his bed. Then he decided that climbing up to his bunk was too much and instead curled up under Seonghwa’s covers, breathing in the familiar smell of laundry detergent and lotion.

He took a few seconds to just bathe in the familiarity, then unpacked his laptop, coughing softly. Hongjoong slipped his headphones on his ears and tried to focus on the screen. Sleep was pulling at him, but he refused. He had work to do.

He did take a quick nap in the afternoon, but his alarm woke him up an hour later and he continued his work. His cough was getting worse not better though, sort of wet and deep. He really couldn’t risk getting sicker but he had no choice but to work, pop pills and hope for the best. In the late evening he heard the sounds of his members returning even through the front door, just as he came back from the bathroom. He sprinted across the hall, slipped into the room and closed the door just as the sounds got louder as his members entered. He carefully but quickly put his laptop on the desk and slipped back under Seonghwa’s covers, pretending to sleep.

Hongjoong must have fallen asleep by accident, as he woke up to Seonghwa gently shaking his shoulders, waking him up for dinner. The older man didn’t seem surprised at all to see him asleep in his bed. “How are you feeling?”, he asked as he scrutinized Hongjoong. “Better”, Hongjoong lied. “I’ll come back to work tomorrow. I already missed too much today.” Just then he started to cough, quickly covering his mouth. As he pulled his elbow away he saw the stain of mucus on his elbow. Seonghwa looked a bit disgusted but handed him a tissue to wipe it away. “That cough doesn’t sound good.”

“It will be fine. Dinner?”

Truthfully Hongjoong wasn’t hungry at all but he didn’t want his members to fuss at him. Seonghwa nodded and took his hand, leading him to the kitchen. The kids were already gathered there, some still clad in their outside clothes (Wooyoung, San and Mingi) while some were already showered and wearing pyjamas (Yeosang, Jongho and Yunho). They sat down at the counter between Yeosang and Mingi. The younger members looked worried but they didn’t pry. Instead they chose to coo at the oversized hoodie he was wearing (Yunho looked way too smug in Hongjoong’s opinion but nobody asked him) but were quickly distracted as Wooyoung brought over the pots full of delicious smelling food. Under his watchful eyes Hongjoong took more soup as he originally would have of his own accord but it felt so good on his throat he didn’t mind so much that it felt a bit too heavy in his stomach. He swallowed some painkillers and fever reducers with the tea Wooyoung had made for him with ‘extra honey for your throat, hyung’.

“I’m sorry I let you down today, on such short notice even more so”, Hongjoong apologized, cradling the mug close to his chest and inhaling the steam, “tell me what I missed, please.”

“You didn’t let us down, hyung”, San protested quickly, “we got on just fine!”

“Yeah!”, Yunho agreed, “we’re glad you got to rest. Nothing special happened, really. Well, Wooyoungie fell over that one teddy bear prop at the shooting so often that the photographer decided that we didn’t really need it. The pics were hilarious though.”

“Hey!”, Wooyoung protested, trying to tackle Yunho which he should have known with their height difference would be a stupid attempt.

“Hold on, I photographed his camera when he showed us”, Jongho cackled and screamed as he ran away from Wooyoung’s wrath, chasing around the table.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but grin at their antics. On one hand he still felt so damn guilty that he hadn’t been there but he still was glad that they had fun. He just hoped that everything else went well and they didn’t decide to not mention an issue to not stress him out.

“Well, I think it’s time for bed”, Seonghwa declared, breaking up the pretend-fight, as he stood up to clean the table.

“Hyung, it’s only nine”, Yeosang whined.

“Yeah but we have to be at dance practice at six in the morning tomorrow.”

Groans all around the table. Oh, the normality.

⌛

No matter how much he wanted to be fine the next day Hongjoong wasn’t. The headache hadn’t gone anywhere, neither did his cough. His fever was lower at least but he had gained congestion in his whole face, making his head feel stuffy.

Waking up at 05:00 in the morning was already a chore when well but it felt like torture. He hadn’t slept much, most of the night tossing and turning in Seonghwa’s bed, body switching between feeling too hot and too cold every few minutes. His hyung had taken one look at him, the ladder up to his bunk and the already tangled sheets on his own bed from Hongjoong’s earlier naps and had decided they would switch beds for the meantime.

After tossing and turning for most of the night, stifling coughs into the pillow, Hongjoong had fallen asleep somewhere around 03:00 o’clock he thought but it had neither been restorative or long. Still, he had a job to do. So when the alarm rang he got up without any complaints.

Seonghwa, bless his heart, had taken it onto himself to make breakfast and wake the younger members which left Hongjoong with the time to take another hot shower. He didn’t think it was possible but he felt disgustingly sweaty already all while still freezing.

The drive to the company didn’t take that long but it ended with Hongjoong falling asleep on Yeosang’s shoulder nevertheless. He stumbled into the practice room and let the other members set up the sound system while he rested for a few moments. Stretching to warm up normally was just a needed evil but with how much his muscles were aching and how stiff he felt it was torture. He was partnered up with Wooyoung, as they always worked with the members close their height – Mingi and Yunho, Seonghwa and Jongho, Yeosang and San, Wooyoung and Hongjoong – and the younger man seemed to take pity on his hyung. While he normally was loud and chaotic, doing his best to annoy Hongjoong without being disruptive, he was quiet and gently helped Hongjoong and let him slack off when he just couldn’t reach his foot with his hand that morning as his back and chest didn’t let him.

They started off easy but Hongjoong already was falling behind. Every step hurt and he couldn’t for the life of him rap without breaking out in painful coughs. After the third time listening to his coughing and him thus not able to keep up Jongho told him to rest his voice. Hongjoong just nodded, defeated. They all knew that Hongjoong needed to rest but with the Award shows so close he couldn’t miss anymore practice as it would affect the whole group to dance with one member less.

Even though he felt like he would collapse any minute Hongjoong managed to hold out until hour three of practice. He didn’t quite know how it happened but he ended up dizzy and stumbling into San, the taller man only just able to keep both of them from face-planting. After that Hongjoong was graduated to watching by Seonghwa (“I’m still your hyung, Hongjoongie, and you need rest.”) and Yunho (“As dance leader I can decide who dances and who doesn’t, hyung, and you get to sit out. Enjoy it while it lasts.”)

He did manage to nap a bit on the ground, head on his towel and when he woke up everybody’s jackets covered him. He managed a grateful smile and even had gotten some energy back despite sleeping on the hard ground.

⌛

After another shower they stopped for lunch, Wooyoung and San pushing hot soup at him as they claimed the booth at the window, the only table big enough for all of them. Hongjoong wasn’t sure if he could have swallowed something more solid, his throat hurting from the coughing and the rapping. Once he had eaten about two thirds of the soup he pushed the bowl away and close his eyes. While he wanted to pretend he was feeling good he just didn’t feel good. He couldn’t muster the energy to plaster a fake smile on his face or act like he normally did. In fact, he craved his members’ comfort, his bed and something to help ease the various aches in his body. If he was truly honest, he longed for his eomma’s hugs. So he found himself cuddling closer to Mingi, the other man immediately wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Do you want to go home, hyung? Or to the doctor’s?”, he asked, looking down. Hongjoong shook his head, fighting the urge to cough. He was comfortable like that, Mingi like a furnace warming his frozen body. He didn’t want his body to move away from the comfort.

“I can’t, we need to prepare”, he mutter hoarsely, voice nearly gone. So he just closed his eyes and dozed again.

⌛

“Joongie, wake up”, somebody said and he opened his eyes to find their lead-manager kneel in front of him. “What’s going on?”, he asked sleepily.

“I’d like you to get checked out by a medic before your English lessons”, the manager said. Hongjoong looked around to find that his members were gone while he was still asleep on the bench in the cantina.

“Where are the others?”, he questioned, confused. “Seonghwa-yah, Mingi-yah and Jongho-yah went to record something for Eden; Wooyoungie, Sannie and Yunho-yah wanted to work on new choreographies and Yeosang is recording for ‘The Show’.”

“Right. What time’s it?”, he asked next. “13:40”, the manager answered.

“Well, I have English lesson in five minutes, so I have to get going”, Hongjoong mumbled, nausea from lunch and at the thought of the unfriendly teacher curling in his stomach. He hadn’t dreaded anything more than the lessons in a long time.

“Nuh-uh, you’re not getting out of the medic’s clutches, young man”, the lead-manager said sternly but fondly, “your health is more important than your English right now. You’re already really fluent and have you heard yourself? You sound like you swallowed glass.”

Truthfully Hongjoong felt like it too but he really didn’t want to get in the teachers bad graces, well, more than he already was. “Can’t I go later?” he asked.

“You have that photoshoot later, after you missed it yesterday.” Shit. Right. Hongjoong had totally forgotten about that. “Now, drink your water and we’ll go to the medics.”

⌛

Half an hour later Hongjoong was standing in front of the door to the English lesson room. He was half an hour late, so he seriously considered running and ditching the lesson altogether. At least he couldn’t get scolded if he wasn’t there. To make things worse, while he had gotten a slip from the medic for complete vocal rest he knew it was useless. The teacher wouldn’t let it slide despite not talking was doctors orders. He desperately wished the manager had come with him but his hyung had to answer some mails or something.

Hesitantly he raised his hand and knocked. His hand shook as he pushed down the handle and entered. The teacher was already glaring at him, the members behind her looking scared for their leader.

“Ah, Mr. Kim have you finally decided to grace us mere mortals with your presence?”, she sneered. Hongjoong fell into a deep bow, again. “I’m sorry, teacher-nim, but…”, he rasped, voice nearly gone. Still she didn’t care and stepped closer to him till she was standing directly before him. It was moments like this that Hongjoong really cursed his height. He normally didn’t mind being the shortest member but even the teacher was taller than him. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. You already disrespected me too much. I thought you had learned after last time but you can’t do anything right, can you? Not even write your own name in English when I specifically ask for a text in the language? Is that so hard?” Hongjoong tried to remember what she meant but his tired mind didn’t know what she was referring to. So he just settled for trying to apologize for whatever he did wrong.

“I’m …”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you are very sorry. You can show it to me by staying back and writing a proper apology after class. Or does his highness have a more important schedule?”

Hongjoong swallowed down frustrated tears. He knew he had to leave directly, technically even a bit early, to be on time for the photoshoot but he couldn’t talk back to her. He didn’t have the energy and the courage. He hated himself for it. He shook his head.

“Sit down then and don’t disrupt the lesson again.” He nodded and walked to his seat, head bowed down so he didn’t have to face his members and they didn’t have to see their cowardly leader. He ignored the hand Seonghwa placed on his arm in a comforting gesture as he slipped past him and sunk down on his own chair, despite desperately wanting to sit on Yeosang’s empty one closer to the others. He didn’t think the teacher would appreciate that.

He managed to keep a low profile during the lesson even keeping quiet when the teacher started berating poor Mingi for a minor mistake. It was like he was paralyzed by fear and he didn’t want to get targeted again. Him being her victim was miles better than his Mingi but no matter how much he willed himself to speak up, stand up, do something – his body wouldn’t move. He didn’t dare look at his younger brother, able to hear the tears in his voice. He would speak to the lead manager he promised himself.

Finally the lesson was over and he stayed back, body taunt from apprehension. “You’re a lucky one, Mr. Kim”, the teacher said, standing in front of his table. He didn’t look up, the tone of her voice obvious that she didn’t mean it in the slightest. She continued undisturbed. “I have an appointment right now but don’t think that means you’re getting off easy. I expect you to write another apology letter to me till tomorrow. Five pages, perfect English. For every mistake you make you will stay behind one minute tomorrow. Understood?”

Hongjoong nodded.

“You will talk to me if I speak to you”, she said, smacking her hand on the table.

“Yes, teacher-nim. I’m sorry, teacher-nim”, Hongjoong mumbled.

Without another word she left, switching off the light and slamming the door behind her. Hongjoong was left alone in the sudden darkness and he couldn’t help the tears bubbling over. He laid his head on the table and sobbed.

⌛

The lead manager didn’t look happy when Hongjoong arrived nearly twenty minutes late at their meeting point in the lobby. He had washed his face, trying to look like he hadn’t cried but when he had seen himself in the mirror he had burst into sobs again. The sobbing and the coughing, combined with the left over nausea from lunch and his nerves had tipped over the edge, leaving him clutching the toilet seat for quite some time before he found the strength to get up, the last nutrition in his body having splattered into the toilet water below him.

“Hongjoongie, you are late. I was worried”, the manager said. “What happened?”

For a moment there was nothing Hongjoong wanted more than to fall into his hyungs chest and cry, telling him about the teacher and how bad he felt. But he couldn’t. “I’m sorry, hyung”, he whispered, throat constricting and he doubled over, coughing. God, his chest hurt.

“Ah, Hongjoongie, don’t talk”, the manager admonished, “we need to get going to the photoshoot, they are surely already waiting for us. Come on.” He wrapped and arm around Hongjoong’s waist and led him to the car.

Hongjoong let the photoshoot pass by him without contributing much. The manager had smoothly excused their tardiness with bad traffic – not unlikely at the time of day in Seoul. The photoshoot staff were very nice people, they knew he was sick and they didn’t mind having the manager talk for him. They had incredible patience when they had to take frequent breaks as Hongjoong had to cough and they saw that the light from the lamps directly next and in front of him bothered him so they turned them off in breaks. A make-up noonas was always there to wipe the sweat from his face and reapply the make-up; she already had been careful to apply nothing to close to his hurting eyes. Somebody handed him water bottles to sooth his throat and at one point he even received some hot tea. Hongjoong was so grateful to all of them that he nearly cried when he couldn’t even properly thank them, the manager talking for him.

⌛

When he arrived back at the dorms it was already evening and he longed for nothing more than his bed. Yeosang was back from his shooting and the members were all gathered at the dinner table, when he unlocked the front door. Hongjoong let himself be moved to the kitchen table, barely able to swallow the stew Wooyoung and Seonghwa had made specially for him. Mingi pushed some pills at him, Jongho sticking close to Hongjoong’s side and letting him use his phone to communicate with them. Yunho moved him to the bathroom and he took a hot shower before collapsing on his bed.

He looked up at a knock on the door, not wanting to deal with whatever was going on but San just smiled widely at him and showed him the hair dryer he held in his hands. “You shouldn’t sleep with wet hair, hyung”, he said, “considering you’re already sick.” Hongjoong nodded and reached out for the appliance but San just made him lay on his stomach, and dried his hair, asking every few minutes if it was too hot. Hongjoong let him do as he pleased, nearly boneless for exhaustion. His eyes fell shut and he didn’t even notice San rearranging the covers on top of him.

⌛

Hongjoong woke up hours later, soaked in sweat and panting from the nightmare he didn’t remember upon waking. He coughed, the sound wet and disgusting, and he stumbled out of the room only focused on not waking Seonghwa. The older man needed his sleep. Once his breathing had calmed down he walked to the kitchen to get himself some water. The oven clock showed him that it was rather early, just past two o’clock. He had plenty of time to get some more rest before practice and English lessons tomorrow.

Shit. He had completely forgotten about the English lesson. He still had to write that apology letter. He stumbled into the living room to grab a notebook and a pen and sunk down on a kitchen chair to get it over with. Writing on a laptop would be much faster but he knew the teacher wanted them to practice more natural writing in the foreign alphabet. He stared at the blank page, nervously fiddling with the pen. He had no idea how he was going to write five pages on something that wasn’t even technically his fault. He hadn’t chosen to be sick at this time but that didn’t matter to the teacher. With a sigh that triggered another cough he started to write.

Twenty minutes late he had managed to formulate four sentences. Four. This was not going well.

His head was swimming from pain and without his glasses he was barely able to read what he had written. He didn’t dare get them from his room, not wanting to accidentally wake Seonghwa. Resting his head on one hand, he tried to focus but the only thing he could focus on was the pain in his chest, and head and the sweat running down his back even though he was freezing.

Another ten minutes later he was startled from light dozing by footsteps. When he turned around he was faced with a sleep-tousled Seonghwa who despite looking only half-awake was looking better than Hongjoong had ever felt.

“Joongie, sweetheart, what are you doing? No, don’t talk, just write”, Seonghwa asked, wiping at his eyes.

I still have to write five pages of an apology to our English teacher. Hongjoong scribbled onto a free page in the book, too tired to lie and seeing no point in it. Did I wake you?

“Nah, I was awake. I thought you maybe got yourself tea or something but when you didn’t return I got worried. Why are you writing now?”

Hongjoong ran his hand over his face. Damn Seonghwa asking the real questions.

She wants it tomorrow. I have no time to do it other than now. I didn’t mean to fall asleep so early.

“Jesus Christ, that woman!”, Seonghwa whisper-yelled, “I can’t believe it. Joongie, this whole apology is stupid, you know that. She is only using you for her amusement or some shit. You didn’t do anything to warrant an apology. If you don’t complain to the manager about her tomorrow morning, I will. The way she treats us, that isn’t right. You’re sick, you can’t help it and a doctor’s appointment is more important than English. Poor Mingi was even crying because she was so rude about a spelling mistake – hell, we checked it later and realized it was technically right just British English instead of American.”

“I’m sorry”, Hongjoong burst out, suddenly emotional and unable to keep quiet. He should have done better, he should have stepped up to his duties earlier. “I’m sorry. I should have talked to the manager before the kids got hurt. I didn’t think she would focus on them instead of me. I’m such a terrible leader, I was so tired but I should have taken steps to protect you all. I should have stood up for Mingi, for all of you and I didn’t. I’m sorry.” Suddenly he was crying into Seonghwa’s chest, the taller man wrapping him in a tight embrace.

“Sssh, sweetheart, calm down”, Seonghwa whispered, “it’s not what I meant at all, you know that. You are tired, over-worked and sick. All of us could have talked to the manager before but we didn’t because we too are stressed and sometimes enduring is easier. Please, calm down, Joongie, I am not blaming you. Nobody is blaming you. Mingi isn’t blaming you. He knows that she was in the wrong, he didn’t get hurt. Just take a deep breath and don’t speak.”

Hongjoong tried to follow Seonghwa’s steady breathing and clutched him tighter, fists curling into the back of his best friend’s sleep clothes. He managed to calm down, hiccupping and coughing on occasion. Seonghwa ran a gentle hand through his hair, till Hongjoong pulled away, not wanting to get more snot and tears on his sleep shirt.

He was given a tissue and a cup of water, then Seonghwa rested his hand on Hongjoong’s forehead. It was deliciously cool, his head the only thing warm in his body, and he sunk into the touch. “Joongie, I’m going to get the thermometer again, you are red-hot.”

He freed himself from Hongjoong’s grip on his shirt and returned a few moments later with the forehead thermometer they had gotten during quarantine.

“No wonder you don’t feel good”, Seonghwa said emphatically and showed him the reading. “39.3°C is way too high. I’m going to call manager-hyung in the morning, this is way above the 38.2°C were allowed to work with. For now you can take more fever reducers, pain pills, and then sleep, I’ll take care of that English teacher.”

Thank you, Hwa. Hongjoong wrote, feeling so deeply thankful for his hyung yet he couldn’t put it in other, more profound words. “Let’s get you back to bed, I’ll bring you the pills.” To Hongjoong’s surprise he was lifted into the air. He thought about protesting but he didn’t feel like walking and being held tightly against Seonghwa’s chest made him feel safe and cared for – which he craved more than anything right now. So he let himself be carried all the way to the bedroom and laid on Seonghwa’s bed.

“Your sheets are soaked with sweat, I’ll get new ones.”

Hongjoong felt his eyes flutter close, barely waking up again to swallow the pills. He didn’t stay awake long enough to notice Seonghwa covering him with fresh blankets.

⌛

The next morning he was woken up by the sun shining in his face. That seemed wrong. He didn’t hear anything from inside the apartment, so he jumped from the bed, obviously having overslept. Why had nobody woken him? Wanting to get ready as fast as possible he slid into the kitchen, nearly falling as a cough and a headrush made him lose his balance for a second.

He found the lead manager chilling on their sofa, reading something on his phone. “Hyung?”, Hongjoong asked confused, voice raspy.

“Ah, Hongjoong-ah”, the manager said and turned around. “You’re awake. Don’t talk. I know you probably are confused. You’re schedules except dance practice are cancelled. You need to rest your body and your voice. If you didn’t have to be at Award shows in three days I would ban you from dance practice too. Now, please take your pills and rest either here on the couch or back in your bed.”

Defeated, Hongjoong nodded.

He let the manager-hyung bring him pills, oatmeal and tea and after he had taken the medicine, he curled up on the couch with his head in the manager’s lap. The manager rubbed a warm hand over his shoulder as they switched through TV programs and held him as coughs shook his body. Soon enough he drifted off to sleep again.

⌛

He dozed on and off all day, his manager only waking him for drinks, food and medication. By evening he felt a bit better, though he was still running a fever and was incredibly restless. He was sitting up on the couch, kicking his legs at nothing just to keep himself occupied, when Seonghwa and the kids entered the apartment, followed by…

“Maddox-hyung? Eden-hyung?”, Hongjoong burst out, forgetting momentarily that he was on vocal rest. The manager shushed him and handed him the notepad they had used all day to communicate as his mentors sat down on either side of him.

“How are you feeling, Hongjoong-ah?”, Eden asked. Hongjoong shrugged and wrote his answer on the paper with a slightly shaking hand. I’m okay. Throat and head hurt and still got a fever but I’m getting there. What are you doing here?

“We wanted to check on our favourite dongsaeng”, Maddox said, squeezing Hongjoong’s hand. Hongjoong felt himself flush. He really did love the attention he was getting from his hyungs most of the time and today it felt like balm on his soul. He normally only allowed himself to act more like himself instead of an older, responsible version of himself when he was around them. He was the maknae in his family and in his previous friend groups, taking on the role of hyung had been very unnatural to him at first. He had liked it though and not wanting to let his team down he had never acted on his more carefree instincts. But as he grew closer to his Maddox-hyung and Edenary-hyungs he let himself act more cute and younger, craving the attention he normally only gave not received (except sometimes from Seonghwa and the managers).

Thank you both so much. I’m sure I’ll be fine for the Awards.

“You know it’s okay if you’re not okay, right, Hongjoong-ah?”, Maddox asked, turning to look at him with worry in his eyes. “You don’t always have to be the strong leader. We wanted to give you the opportunity to come to us with your problems but I guess we should have made that clearer.”

Oh. Hongjoong didn’t know how to react. Sure, Maddox and Eden often checked in on him in his studio but he never realized they wanted him to come to them with his problems. He had never even entertained the thoughts of going to them with his struggles.

Eden gave him a tight smile. “I thought something was going on, next to you being stressed about the Awards shows and your whole schedule itself. Well, Seonghwa threw a fit this morning when he saw your English teacher in the halls this morning, Jongho was barely able to keep him from punching her. Seonghwa then told us how she treated all of you. That’s why you were crying in your studio that night, right?”

Oh. Oh.

“Well, you should definitely talk with your members about the situation at some point but we wanted to let you know that you could come to us too, if you didn’t want to talk to them. It’s hard being a hyung sometimes, isn’t it?”, Maddox mumbled, running a hand through Hongjoong’s hair which he was sure was disgustingly sweaty.

Hongjoong nodded, biting his lip. It sure was difficult being a hyung and a leader, responsible for people who were practically your own age. Sometimes it felt ridiculous to Hongjoong how everybody expected the older members of groups to be the most responsible ones. He was barely older than Yunho and he had a totally different role than him in the group, no matter his leader status. And Jongho most certainly could have been the responsible leader of ATEEZ if he was older and he had started training at KQ earlier. It was weird how they were treated so differently, having seen so many different friendship relationships on international TV which dynamics were more natural to the personalities of the people and not their age.

“Joongie, you in there?”, Maddox asked, shaking his shoulder. Hongjoong blinked, realising he must have spaced out. He nodded.

Thank you both, I appreciate your words so much. I promise I will be better.

Hongjoong sighed, not really wanting to keep thinking about all of what he was told and decided to switch the theme of their conversation.

Are you staying for dinner?

Luckily, both his hyungs let the sentimentalities drop.

Since the space in the kitchen was rather limited, they all gathered in the living room. Some spread over the furniture, some sitting on pillows on the floor. Only Seonghwa seemed a bit bothered by it all, probably scared for the couch cushions if anybody made a mess. It was a nice, relaxed affair. Hongjoong stayed on the couch next to Eden and Maddox, letting his hyungs feed him some rice which still didn’t feel great on his throat but was manageable.

The managers had send them to bed soon after they were finished eating. He was asked to switch beds with Mingi so that he kept his germs to himself and so that Seonghwa could sleep that night. He knew that they were worried, hell everybody was worried and that included himself, but they all needed to be at top condition for these shows. Since Hongjoong was already obviously lacking, they couldn’t risk Seonghwa being sleep-deprived. It was a fucked up mentality but such was the reality of being a K-Pop Idol, he guessed.

Two days to the first Award show, he would be fine.

⌛

“It’s the last Award show, I will be fine, it’s just one more day”, Hongjoong mumbled to himself as stared into his reflection in the bathroom at the venue they were at. Sadly, he had seriously underestimated his illness. While he had been fine to perform at the first Award show, being fever-free that morning, he had been burning up again after the performance. The past two days full of shows had been the same – first he was fine then afterwards or during the end of it he was barely holding on. He just needed to make it through today and then he was free to rest for a whole week, promised by the CEO personally.

Luckily, he was alone in the bathroom so he was free to cough up his lungs – at least it felt like that. He was exhausted to the bone from show after show, and his cough had gotten so much worse again. He barely slept at night, the cough and a dull pain in his chest keeping him awake.

He splashed some water in his face and turned around to walk back to their dressing room, hoping that the make-up noonas could make him look more alive. Pale face and red spots of fever on his cheeks with dry lips and glossy eyes weren’t the style their concept was going for.

⌛

“You good, hyung?”, Yunho asked as he pushed open the door. He nodded and sank down on the couch to wait with him for their turns in the make-up chair. At the moment it was Jongho’s and Yeosang’s turns while San and Seonghwa were already done. Hongjoong and Yunho would be next, while Mingi and Wooyoung got their hair and clothes fixed. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the hard backrest.

“Joongie”, Seonghwa whispered and shook him, “it’s your turn.” Hongjoong opened his eyes to see he had slipped to lean against Yunho in his sleep while Seonghwa was crouched in front of them. “Drink something.” Yunho held out a bottle and Hongjoong, desperate to get his throat to cooperate for at least two stages, please just two or three more stages, took a big sip.

Big sip, big mistake. Just as he was about to swallow his body surprised him with a cough and he half-swallowed the water and half-spat it out on his lap. Then the cough wouldn’t stop. He wheezed, leaning forward as he was robbed of precious oxygen and his lungs felt like they were tearing apart. Seonghwa was saying something and Yunho handed him a towel, which Hongjoong pressed against his mouth to muffle the loudness and violence of his body’s torture. It was bad enough that his members heard him coughing this badly but he was sure some of the hyungs and noonas were watching on – in worry probably but still.

Suddenly, without much warning, his stomach muscles contracted from the force of it all and he felt the water he had swallowed burn in his throat. Retching harshly, he spat out the water and bile and whatever else he had in his stomach into the towel. He gagged from the taste and disgustingness of the oatmeal-like substance (his stomach turned at the thought) in the towel, which triggered actual vomiting. Luckily Seonghwa had caught on quickly and grabbed the trash bin that had stood next to the sofa, holding it under Hongjoong’s chin. Hongjoong dropped the dirty towel in the bin, it really was beyond saving, and tried to regulate his breathing while he helplessly hung his head over the bucket as his stomach spilled from his lips. There wasn’t much coming up, he barely had any appetite obvious as Wooyoung had even tried and failed to bribe him into eating something with sweets this morning. It was a vicious circle: The coughing caused vomiting, the vomiting caused more coughing and it just wouldn’t stop. He was already seeing black spots in his vision, gasping from precious air which his body so cruelly denied him.

It took a few minutes but slowly his body got itself under control and he was able to take in deep breaths. He slowly became aware of a hand rubbing his back and loud, angry voices. He squeezed his eyes shut, scared of what he would see. He didn’t want to let down his members but he already had.

“It’s okay, hyung, just breathe”, Yeosang mumbled. When had he come over? Wasn’t he just getting his make-up done? Hongjoong dared to look up to find himself sandwiched between Jongho and Yeosang, San taking the bucket of disgustingness from his hands. Yunho, Seonghwa and some managers were talking, gesturing wildly and in obvious disagreement. Wooyoung and Mingi were nowhere to be seen.

“Okay?”, Jongho asked, taking Hongjoong’s hand and handing him a tissue. He was confused for a moment but then he realized his vision was blurry from tears. His throat was aching badly, feeling like it was torn open from all the coughing, and combined with the vomiting his eyes had teared up involuntarily.

Belatedly realizing he had forgotten to answer the maknae’s question, he nodded, not willing to speak and hurt his throat more. He looked up as he saw Seonghwa throw his arms in the air in frustration and walk out of the room, clearly trying to calm down without lashing out at anyone. Hongjoong couldn’t help but feel terrible about it, after all he was the reason why everything was not going like planned.

Instead Yunho, who looked tight-lipped and undecided, and a manager-hyung came over. “Hey, feeling better Hongjoong-ah?”, the manager asked. Hongjoong nodded and whispered: “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Do you think you can get through the stages today?”, the manager asked, sounding apologetic, “I know you feel terrible but you need to be on stage in less than an hour and the members don’t have time to re-learn the choreography as seven, especially since you have a lot of middle parts, and we need your rap. I’m sorry that you performing with them or nobody doing it are the only two options.”

Hongjoong felt a shiver run down his spine. He couldn’t make the others, his best friends, loose out on such an opportunity to promote themselves and maybe even win an Award just because he was sick. They had worked so hard for this, he couldn’t be the reason why they never even had a chance. And they couldn’t let down ATINY. He wasn’t sure if he could make it but he would have to.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Hyung, you’re not fine”, Yunho protested, but sounding unsure, “I know we always say ‘8 makes 1 team’ but maybe it’s best if you rest for now. You’ve been sick for close to two weeks, you keep coughing badly and you just threw up.”

“I’ll be fine. You said it: ‘8 makes 1 team’ and I’ll be dead before I let a cold take that away from us, from you”, Hongjoong insisted, “Also I didn’t throw up.”

San looked decidedly unimpressed, having just returned to hear the last part. “I beg your pardon? I just disposed of your stomach contents, are you seriously arguing if you threw up?”

“The coughing triggered it, I wasn’t nauseous or anything”, Hongjoong explained trying to stay patient. He couldn’t let his team down further than he already had.

“And I suppose that makes it better?”, Yunho asked, clearly not wanting Hongjoong to answer.

He still did because he was an idiot. “Yes?”

⌛

He was saved by Seonghwa returning, a medic in tow. Hongjoong raised his eyebrow at his hyung but didn’t protest. He would lose anyways. It felt strangely heartwarming that Seonghwa knew that he would insist on performing and instead of futile arguing got somebody to check him out beforehand.

“Hello Hongjoong-ssi”, the medic greeted him and knelt down in front of him. Hongjoong returned the greeting, glad when Yeosang’s hand found his, as he leaned against Jongho tiredly. Sitting up was already so exhausting, he dreaded standing, dancing and singing. Seonghwa had rounded the sofa and ran his fingers through Hongjoong’s hair in a comforting manner. “Seonghwa-ssi said you’re not feeling so well?” Reluctantly Hongjoong nodded.

“I’d like to perform an exam and ask you a few questions, if that is alright with you?”, the woman said and Hongjoong nodded again.

As she asked about his symptoms over the past weeks, the managers made Jongho and Yeosang get up to get dressed, while Yunho had to get his make-up done. San sat down next to him, letting Hongjoong cuddle up and leech of some warmth. The medic made Hongjoong take his shirt off, listening to his lungs and looking very much not pleased. When she was done, San helped him get dressed again and pulled Hongjoong to lie on his lap, while Hongjoong interlocked his hand with Seonghwa’s who still stood behind the sofa. Lying down, well moving itself, hurt especially in his whole chest area.

“To be honest, I wouldn’t recommend that you perform at all, Hongjoong-ssi.” At his panicked look she continued: “However, I have worked with a lot of idols, so I already know you won’t listen to me. I’d like to give you a steroid shot, it will make you feel more awake and energetic and it should help the inflammation.”

Hongjoong nodded in agreement, desperate to feel better even if it was just for a performance. The medic made him lay down on his side and prepared his upper arm for injection. Hongjoong tried to watch, normally feeling better when he saw the needle but right now the sight of the metal entering his skin made him queasy. The injection hurt but it was bearable and then he was ushered into a make-up chair and people started fussing around him.

⌛

He hadn’t thought it was possible but he felt great on stage. The lights were blinding, the music too loud and the dancing making him dizzy but he was so energetic and euphoric for the two stages he nearly forgot he was sick. The other members watched him closely, he knew that, but he shot them reassuring glances. The steroid and the adrenaline were working miracles. Strangely enough he barely remembered the performance once they were done, time flying fast. He held his ending pose, after all he knew he was going to be the ending fairy, trying to look like he wasn’t about to cough. They finally walked off stage, Hongjoong holding his mic away from himself and as soon as he was out of sight from cameras he doubled over, coughing.

A tentative hand appeared on his upper arm, warm and comforting, holding him steady. Seonghwa. He gave a smile as he straightened up and waved of the concern but letting Seonghwa slip his hand into his and lead him to the waiting room. Yet when he was able to sit down on the sofa his energy seemed to vanish at once. His chest started to hurt badly again, especially his left side, and the fever seemed to tease him, making him uncomfortable.

He shifted to lie down, resting his head on someone’s lap. He was too tired to figure out whose it was. Time flew by quick as an airplane, as slow as chewing gum and he was just so uncomfortable. He didn’t have the energy to open his eyes or even ask for a pill for his pain, chest and head feeling like they were about to explode. He was aware of someone holding his hand, squeezing it as he softly coughed barely having enough energy to even do so. He drifted.

⌛

A hand shook his shoulder and he opened his dry eyes to find Yunho looking down at him. “Hyung”, he whispered, “we need to get on stage in ten minutes for the Award presentation. You can just stay here if you want to.” ‘If you can’t get up again’ was left unsaid. Hongjoong shook his head and carefully lifting himself up from Jongho’s lap, as he now recognized. He ignored how his body burned and a sharp pain spread down his left arm. He probably had slept on it.

“Are you sure?”, Jongho asked, voice sounding muffled and far away. Hongjoong nodded and pushed himself up. He swayed nearly immediately, threatening to fall back onto the sofa. Jongho and Yunho grabbed his arms, holding him up. The pain in his chest and arm was nearly blinding.  

“I’m …”. Fine, is what he wanted to say. Suddenly an overwhelming wave of nausea washed over him and he fought off gags. “I’m going to throw up”, he whispered. Then everything went black.

⌛

Seonghwa paced through the waiting room, nothing unusual. He always did when worried, but his worry was not about winning an Award this time but about his captain who was dozing on their maknae’s lap looking pained. The other members hadn’t approached their oldest hyung, neither had the managers. He didn’t want them to. Wooyoung and Mingi were sitting on the ground in a corner. (Damn Award shows not caring enough about hoobae groups to even give them goddamn chairs.) Yunho was sitting on the ground next to the sofa, holding the captain’s hand, while Jongho ran his hand through his hair. San and Yeosang were staring at the screen, trying to distract themselves with other groups’ performances but clearly not at all paying attention, cuddling close.

“Twenty minutes until stage”, a manager called and chaos broke out. Hyungs and noonas swarmed them to touch up make-up and clothes. Seonghwa let them do as they pleased, asking them to leave Yunho, Jongho and Hongjoong alone. They did, worried about Hongjoong themselves. Slowly the staff filtered out until it was only the members left, even the managers switching to a different waiting area. Seonghwa didn’t quite understand why the venue required that, but not caring about it more than necessary, he watch how Yunho tried and failed to gently wake Hongjoong. Only when he touched his shoulder, shaking him carefully, did the captain open his eyes. He seemed sluggish, clearly completely spent and Seonghwa heard Yunho offering one last out. Of course Hongjoong didn’t take it and pushed himself up.

“I’m going to throw up”, had Seonghwa on edge, turning around to search for the trash bin. Then his heart gave a jolt as loud screams were heard. He whirled back around to see Jongho and Yunho lower an unconscious Hongjoong onto the floor. He rushed over, ignoring how his knees stung as he fell.

“Joongie, wake up”, he whispered, patting the captain’s shoulder, practically begging him to wake up. “Get a manager, Wooyoungie”, Yunho ordered. Jongho had his hand on Hongjoong’s throat, trying to feel how bad his pulse was. Suddenly his eyes went wide and he pushed Seonghwa away to hover his head over Hongjoong’s head, watching his chest – which wasn’t moving.

When he uttered his next words, Seonghwa felt his world break and his head got dizzy. “He isn’t breathing.” Yunho looked as shocked as Seonghwa felt and he muttered: “Don’t be ridiculous, Jongho-yah, he’s just got the flu. Nothing more.” He leaned over to check for himself and after a few seconds he paled drastically as he seemed to come to the same conclusion as their maknae.

Jongho looked grim, determined and ordered: “Yunho, breath for him, I’ll do chest compressions. Mingi, find a defibrillator. There was one in the hall, I think. Yeosang, call an ambulance.”

In his hurry to get the words out, Jongho slipped into familiar speech, not caring about formalities. Yunho nodded and tilted Hongjoong’s head back exactly as they had learned in the first aid course they had done a few weeks back. Jongho had already started to pound on Hongjoong’s chest, counting steadily. Yeosang and Mingi ran away, the former to the table where their phones were stored and the latter out the door.

Seonghwa shook his head wildly. This was wrong, Jongho doing he same motions as they had done on that creepy plastic puppet on Hongjoong. Hongjoong was just sick, a stubborn flu. Nothing more. Certainly not de … not in need of reviving.

In a fit of hot anger (why were they doing this when Hongjoong just needed to wake up?) he pushed Jongho away, the maknae tumbling to the side, not having expected being attacked. Seonghwa forcefully shook Hongjoong’s shoulder, willing him to just wake up and laugh at their worried expressions. Telling them they were exaggerating.

“Joongie, wake up, wake up!”, he yelled, fear gripping his chest as the smaller man just lifelessly lolled in his grip. Suddenly strong arms wrapped around his chest as he was pulled backwards. He thrashed in the hold, not caring if he hurt the person pulling him away from his captain.

“Seonghwa-hyung, stop”, San ordered at his ear, voice firm but somehow simultaneously shaky. “Let them work. Hongjoong-hyung needs help and you’re in no state to help him.” Feeling like all his strings were cut, Seonghwa fell backwards against him, not able to hold himself up.

“He can’t be dead”, Seonghwa whispered brokenly as he watched his dongsaengs push life into their captain. San silently jerked behind him but pulled Seonghwa closer. Suddenly not able to stomach the sight anymore, Seonghwa turned around to bury his face in San’s chest.

⌛

Later he would feel so incredibly proud of how his dongsaengs had handled the situation and ashamed how he hadn’t handled the situation but for now he could only look away as his best friend laid lifeless on the ground.

Seonghwa jumped at the loud bang as the door was shoved open and looked up to see Mingi, holding the defibrillator in his hands, bursting inside, followed by Wooyoung and two managers, all of them frantic. They all fell down on their knees next to them, the managers taking over for the members to pump life into the small body on the ground, seeing how Yunho and Jongho must be exhausted from the show already. Mingi and Wooyoung started fiddling with the defibrillator. Numb to the core, Seonghwa watched how they tore open Hongjoong’s stage outfit, exposing his chest which wasn’t rising or falling, his heart not beating inside. Wooyoung quickly shaved Hongjoong’s chest for good measure, and Mingi placed the electrodes on his bare skin while Jongho told him how according to the explanation. The voice of a woman gave instructions, coming automatically from the instrument.

He wasn’t able to tell how often the circle between electric shocks and continued life-saving measures were taken until finally there was a gasp and Hongjoong, though unconscious, coughed. There were cries and fast words and they turned Hongjoong on his side.

Paramedics burst in, lead by Yeosang who Seonghwa hadn’t even noticed had left to lead them to the room. He blinked and Hongjoong was laid on the stretcher, a breathing mask on his face, as they wheeled him out. A manager followed them and then Wooyoung ran up to him, clutching the managers hand and begging. Soon after they ran after the paramedics.

⌛

Seonghwa turned his attention to the other members, seeing them like there was a veil distancing him from them. San was still clutching Seonghwa, body jerking with what he now recognized as sobs. Yeosang stood in the middle of the room, looking lost. Mingi sat on the ground gasping for breath, hyperventilating, a manager holding him and rubbing his back. Yunho sat pale, staring at nothing, one hand faintly touching his lips that were just breathing life into his hyung and his whole body shaking. Jongho had slumped over, staring blankly at the door where their hyung had disappeared, holding Yunho’s other hand.

For a moment nothing happened, they all still and trying to process what happened. The spell was broken as Jongho jumped up, nearly loosing his balance and falling, then running over to the side of the room where he doubled over and threw up, the shock of the events getting to him.

The manager patted Mingi’s shoulder and got up to check on the maknae. Seonghwa blinked again and the room was crowded by their other managers and staff, all looking pale. Yunho was still shaking from head to toe, looking so unlike himself it hurt. Mingi was still hyperventilating and a manager-noona trying to get him to calm down. Instead the giant man slumped into himself, passed out from his panic. Seonghwa watched he was laid down, his position resembling Hongjoong so much that Seonghwa had to swallow and turn his gaze away. San was still crying; a stylist-noona offering Jongho a bottle of water and a towel; the first manager now trying to get a completely dissociated Yeosang to react.

“Can we go to the hospital?”, Seonghwa rasped, surprising even himself. The manager-noona looked up and nodded. Slowly they got up and like magnets were drawn to each other. San and Yeosang clutched each other, Mingi and Yunho were holding hands. A manager had wrapped an arm around Jongho’s shoulder. Seonghwa’s hand felt strangely empty. They filtered out of the room, one after another. The hallways were full of people, though Seonghwa couldn’t recognize them in his daze and not caring to do so. At one point he thought someone spoke to him but he had no strength to check who. They reached the van and entered. Seonghwa ended up on one the lone seats; Yeosang, San and Jongho cuddled up in the back, Yunho and Mingi over the aisle from Seonghwa. Two manager-noonas filled the empty seats belonging to Hongjoong and Wooyoung.

⌛

A tense silence filled the normally so full of life van. Seonghwa remembered the drive to the show, all of them laughing and happy, joking about Hongjoong who was snoring loudly on Mingi’s shoulder. The journey seemed to take forever – street lights, houses, other cars passing by in an endless circle.

The managers brought them into the hospital via a secret entrance once they arrived. Seonghwa didn’t know where to look. Everything was so white and sterile, stainless steel glaring at them, ceiling lights too harsh on the eyes. They were ushered into a small waiting room, where Wooyoung and the manager-hyung were waiting for them. Wooyoung immediately ran to San and Yeosang, sobbing into their three-way embrace. The others slowly sat down, eyes flickering from side to side. Yunho, who had contained his shaking to his hands was walking around, touching them, trying to be close but often enough drifting towards Mingi who was cuddled up to a manager. Jongho still looked incredibly pale, a plastic bag clutched in his hands.

“I don’t understand”, the maknae finally whispered, “hyung only had the flu. Why would he …?” He broke off, not needing to say the words. Why would he die?

The manager-hyung who had gone to the hospital with Hongjoong and Wooyoung sighed and replied: “The paramedics suspect that due to overwork while he was already sick he developed myocarditis – an inflammation in his heart. His heartbeat was still very bad when he last saw him – he was having a lot of irregular beats. They think that caused the sudden cardiac death.”

It was then that Seonghwa broke. He was sobbing and crying, heart aching so badly he thought it would tear in two. Hongjoong, his best friend, his captain, had been dead. Had suffered from freaking cardiac death. He tried to get in a breath but he couldn’t. It was like he was suffocating himself. Voices washed over him, hands touching him. He panicked further – he couldn’t be touched – wildly thrashing around.

⌛

When he finally regained his senses he was lying on a couch somewhere – someone holding his hand. “Seonghwa-yah?”, a female voice whispered and he turned to find a manager-noona kneeling next to him. “Are you with me?”

He nodded shakily, head aching. “What happened?”

“You had a very bad panic attack – the doctors had to sedate you to keep you from hurting yourself and the others in your panic. You were asleep for quiet some time.��

“Oh. I don’t remember … what happened to trigger it? I mean, I normally, I don’t…”, he stuttered out, still a bit hazy.

The manager-noona looked away, unable to meet his eyes. Seonghwa felt his chest constrict in panic again but he pushed the feeling down in favour of asking her again.

“Hongjoongie collapsed during the Award show, do you remember that?”, the manager-noona asked.

Seonghwa swore his heart skipped a beat. The memories assaulted his brain, nauseating him. He felt himself start to shake and grasped her hand.

“Joongie … is he alright?”, he gasped.

The manager swallowed. “He’s … alive, so much we know. His parents are on the way. I’m sure we will learn more about his condition soon. Right now, nobody is allowed with him.”

Seonghwa nodded. Hongjoong was alive – it wasn’t the best he had hoped for but it was good enough for now.

“The kids?”, he asked.

“They refused to leave”, the manager said with a tiny smile, obviously fond of them, “Sannie and Mingi-yah were here with you for the past hour but I made them get some air and snacks. Your manager-hyung texted me earlier, the others are okay too. Shaken up but calm. Jongho-yah threw up again and Yunho is still really frazzled but they are taken good care of. Maddox and Eden-oppa came to check on them too.”

“That’s good. Can I see them?”

“Of course.”

⌛

She led him back through white hallways into a slightly familiar room. Gasps all around were heard and suddenly Seonghwa had his arm full of Jongho. “Hey, baby”, he greeted the younger man, relishing in the hold as much as his dongsaeng obviously did.

“Hyung”, Jongho whispered, fisting the back of Seonghwa’s outfit. When he looked around over Jongho’s shoulder as he rocked him from side to side he saw that all of them were still in full stage make-up and costumes. Yeosang, San and Wooyoung were sitting so close together on the couch in the corner that it seemed like they tried to become one person, their make-up destroyed by tears running down their cheeks. Yunho was sleeping in Mingi’s lap, the other man on the phone with maybe his mother. They all looked up at Seonghwa when he entered though, except for Yunho of course. Mingi ended the conversation quickly and put his phone in his pocket.

For a moment Seonghwa wondered where Eden and Maddox were, considering the manager said they had come to check on them, but maybe there was a misunderstanding.

“Hyung, how are you feeling?”, Yeosang asked, voice small. With a pang in his chest Seonghwa realized that the poor man suddenly had been the oldest in the room and sort of in charge with Seonghwa and Yunho asleep and Hongjoong…

“I’m okay, just exhausted. I’m sorry I left you alone”, he apologized. “Don’t”, Jongho whispered, “Hongjoong-hyung is your best friend, of course you couldn’t keep it together. It’s okay.”

“Thank you, Jongho”, Seonghwa whispered back. “How are you all holding up?”

He took Jongho’s hand, as the maknae seemed reluctant to let go of him and let both of them to the chairs across from Mingi and Yunho, in a ninety degree angle to WooSanSang.

He wanted to know how the others were feeling so he could at least from now on act like a hyung and the first step was knowing where the members heads were at. He nodded at Jongho to begin, the maknae being so unlike himself.

“I don’t think I have ever been so scared in my life”, Jongho admitted. “I keep asking myself why we didn’t notice that something was wrong earlier. ”

“You couldn’t have known”, a manager said, listening in to keep track of his charges emotions and to calm them down. It helped Seonghwa immensely that he wasn’t solely responsible for the lot right now. “Don’t blame yourself.”

Seonghwa nodded in encouragement and pulled Jongho even closer.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget the fear when I first realized he wasn’t breathing. I literally mimicked being his heart. I … I don’t … I’m scared to close my eyes and see it again.”

“Thank you for sharing that with us, baby”, San said and squeezed the maknae’s arm. “You did really well. I’m so proud of you, we’re all so proud of you. You were really brave.”

Jongho bit his lip. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

“It never does, I think”, Yeosang added.

“Can we … can we focus on somebody else for now? I think I need to not be focused on myself for the time being”, Jongho said.

“I keep seeing him collapse in my mind”, San said immediately, voice quiet, “I heard him say that he was feeling sick and I turned to check on him.” He hesitated, swallowing. They let him gather himself before he kept speaking. “I don’t want that to be his last words.”

For a moment Seonghwa couldn’t breathe. He vividly remembered a sleepless night shortly after they had debuted. He and Hongjoong had been curled up on Seonghwa’s bed together, sharing secrets and deep talks. At one point they had talked about what they wanted to be their last words. While Seonghwa had to think about it, Hongjoong had an answer ready: ‘8 makes 1 team’.

“They won’t be, they got him back, you all got him back”, the manager interjected. “He’s alive, we just need to wait how he will recover.”

If he recovers. Seonghwa was no medical expert but he knew well enough that Hongjoong’s brain hadn’t gotten enough oxygen while he wasn’t breathing on his own. There could be lasting damages from that. Never mind the inflammation of his heart or his flu itself. They all knew that.

They all kept quiet for a moment before Yeosang spoke. “I keep hearing him talk to Yunho fighting to perform. He said: ‘8 makes 1 team’ and I’ll be dead before I let a cold take that away from us, from you.’ And ...”

He couldn’t finish his sentence, instead Yeosang started sobbing. Wooyoung pulled him in an embrace, San reaching over him to rub Yeosang’s back.

None of the others continued to speak till he had calmed down a bit, occupied with their own thoughts. Yeosang shook his head at Seonghwa’s questioning glance – there was nothing more he wanted to share.

“My anxiety is really bad”, Mingi said in a trembling voice, keeping his hands occupied with running them through Yunho’s hair, “I already spoke to my therapist, we will speak daily for some time. I can always call her if I need it. I’m really worried about Yunho – he’s in a bad mental state.”

“Don’t hesitate to take a break if you need it”, Seonghwa said and Mingi nodded. They both were aware that Mingi wouldn’t take up the offer, needing closeness to the group for now. He added: “Yunho-yah is asleep for now, it’s probably best for him. We’ll see how he is doing when he wakes up. It was a really traumatic experience for him, for all of us. I’m confident we can support each other through it all.” The others nodded in agreement, quiet whispers of reassurance being exchanged.

“I’m angry at myself”, Wooyoung rasped, voice gone from crying. “I just want Hongjoong-hyung to yell at me at least one more time for being too loud. I wish I had been a better dongsaeng, not always making his life harder.”

“Nonsense, Wooyoungie”, Eden interjected. They all turned around to see him, Maddox and two stylist-noonas enter the room, all carrying coffee and food containers. So that’s where they had been. “Hongjoongie, while sometimes exasperated, loves how you can brighten up every room and you most certainly aren’t a bad dongsaeng.”

Wooyoung shrugged, not looking quite convinced but it was something they could work on later, maybe even with a professional.

None of the members were really hungry but they all needed to eat. They hadn’t eaten before the show so their last meal had been an early lunch, now over twelve hours ago. Seonghwa helped distribute the sandwiches and what he realized now was hot chocolate to the members, making a point of eating himself so they would take him as an example. It tasted like nothing in his mouth but he forced himself to swallow.

Mingi was nibbling on his sandwich while still holding onto Yunho, none of them having the heart to make Yunho face reality, so they let him sleep. WooSanSang were eating too, slowly but steadily. Only Jongho wasn’t eating the sandwich Seonghwa had given him.

“Jjong-ah, you need to eat”, Maddox admonished before Seonghwa could, his voice gentle. Thank God for their hyungs. While Eden and Maddox looked as haunted as Seonghwa felt, they were a good help right now.

“I think I’m going to throw up again if I eat anything”, Jongho mumbled, looking decidedly queasy. Seonghwa couldn’t blame him, the sandwich heavy in his stomach.

“Can you at least drink something for us?”, a noona bargained, holding out a water bottle. “You need something in your body.”

Jongho shrugged and accepted the bottle, taking a few cautious sips.

“Joongie’s parents are on their way but it might take them another few hours”, Eden said at one point. “I talked with them briefly, they were on vacation, they try to be as fast as possible.”

⌛

It was morning when they finally got news on Hongjoong. A doctor entered the waiting room, finding only a manager, Seonghwa and Eden awake. The rest of them had succumbed to their exhaustion during the night. Mingi had his head leaning back against the wall, probably meaning that his neck would be stiff when he woke and Yunho was curled up on his lap still. Wooyoung, San and Yeosang were still a pile of human, nobody sure where one ended and the next began. Jongho was asleep on Seonghwa’s lap and Maddox had fallen asleep on Eden’s shoulder.

“How is he?”, Seonghwa whispered.

“I can’t say much for now. He didn’t have another cardiac arrest which is very good. Right now he is in a coma but we don’t know if or when he will wake up.”

“Can we see him?”, Eden asked.

“One of you can come with me”, the doctor said.

“I’ll go”, Seonghwa said and nobody protested. He carefully switched positions with the manager, trying and succeeding in keeping Jongho from waking.

⌛

Seonghwa followed the doctor through the maze of hallways till they arrived in front of a glass door, which was covered by a curtain from the inside. “Don’t be scared”, the doctor said, “he still is hooked up to various machines. You have half an hour, then a nurse will accompany you back.”

Seonghwa nodded and slipped inside, closing the door behind himself. He took a second to just stay with his back to Hongjoong, not ready to see what he would. He turned and just for a moment he forgot to breathe. There Hongjoong was, laying on the hospital bed, his pale face nearly the same colour as the sheets. Carefully Seonghwa stepped closer, afraid to disturb Hongjoong in any way even though it wasn’t really possible. He sucked in a relieved breath when he saw the captain’s chest - though taped with electrodes - rising and falling. He sank down on the chair provided, scared his legs would give way under him if he didn’t sit the next moment. Hongjoong was alive and breathing. He gently grasped Hongjoong’s hand, holding it in his bigger ones and then feeling for a pulse on his wrist. Hongjoong’s heart was beating.

⌛

The next days passed in a blur. Later Seonghwa wasn’t able what happened when.

Hongjoong woke up the evening of the next day though he couldn’t stay awake for more than a few minutes the first days. His parents were there constantly, taking care of their son and also of his friends.

KQ had published an announcement, not telling the fans about Hongjoong’s condition in detail but explaining that he collapsed at the Award show and would be on hiatus for an undetermined time from then on.

The Award show, as Seonghwa learned later, had been stopped – the organizers not wanting people to accuse them of heartlessness if something about an Idol dying backstage and them just continuing as if nothing happened came out. Maddox told him how he nearly had a heart infarction when he they announced that an Idol was taken to hospital and the next second his phone had rang with a panicked CEO telling him that it had been his Hongjoongie.

Seonghwa’s phone blew up after the announcements, many worried Idols checking in on them especially those who had been at the show. Lee Know told him how he had known something terrible must have happened, he had never seen the whole of ATEEZ so out of it when they had passed Stray Kids in the hallway. Soobin explained that he had tried to get Seonghwa to talk to him, worried about what was happening, but how Seonghwa had been completely spaced out. Apparently the whole venue had been in a state of shock after they had heard that an Idol was taken to the hospital by ambulance and that is was severe.

They were contacted later, being told that ATEEZ had automatically won the Award but none of them felt like it was right that they should receive it in a perverse way of receiving an award for working their Idols to the ground.

⌛

Recovery was slow. Hongjoong was released from hospital three weeks after extensive therapy. The doctors said he was lucky, he didn’t suffer from too incapacitating side effects even though his brain had not received enough oxygen for some time. It could have been much worse. In a fit of anger Hongjoong later screamed at his mother who told him the same thing over and over again, then broke down crying. Yes, it could have been worse but the aftereffects were very obvious to everybody who knew him.

The rest of ATEEZ slowly started their schedules again, all of them profiting greatly from the therapy the company had organized for them. Their next album was to be released when Hongjoong was with them again or if it took longer than expected a year after the original release date. Their concerts were all cancelled, none of them really ready to go on stage as seven and they were lucky how understanding ATINY was. Their company took great care to call out any sasaengs who were rude about the whole groups concert hiatus.

During the first three months Hongjoong stayed with his parents but getting constant visits from his members, colleagues and idol friends. He was tired all the time and frustrated with his suddenly terrible short term memory. It got less severe over time but at the beginning Hongjoong was barely able to keep up with conversations, forgetting nearly immediately what he was told. It got better but he still sometimes found himself unable to recall events that happened after … the incident. Yet at some point Hongjoong started to refuse the visits, embarrassed by his inability to keep up though everybody reassured them they didn’t mind repeating things for him.

Then there were the problems with his speech – aphasia, the doctors called it. Hongjoong could think perfectly fine but had trouble translating his thoughts into words. He hated it, afraid he would never be able to talk. He at first tried to occupy himself during boring times with song writing but it wasn’t as easy for him as before. Seonghwa still remembered the heart-crushing phone call he had received late at night with Hongjoong sobbing on the other end of the phone, scared he would never be able to sing or perform again. Funnily enough he had no trouble with his words when singing and rapping when Seonghwa urged him to try but during actual talking or composing his brain failed him.

Hongjoong wanted back his old normal not the new normal people kept talking about. He wanted to compose, he wanted to talk, he wanted to be ATEEZ leader. Seonghwa had unofficially taken over the title while he was out of commission. But the build up frustration of not being able to function like he was used to had Hongjoong tumbled down into the clasps of depressive episodes out of which nobody was able to talk him. He didn’t really see a point in his life if he wasn’t with ATEEZ.

After many tears and conversations, Hongjoong returned to live in the dorm where the members took great care of him, careful to always have a member or at least a manager stay with him. He was then allowed to return to practice and Eden and Maddox let him stay in the studio, composing melodies and later texts (with one of the producers always there to check he wasn’t getting to worked up if he didn’t find the words he was looking for). At first though he was only allowed to work up to two hours a day.

He longed to leave with the rest of his team to go to some concerts in Seoul, longing to be on stage again but afraid to be in the spotlight.

⌛

Slowly, over time, he was able to return to his previous schedules full-time though always closely watched by somebody. Still he struggled, scared of the public’s opinions. At some point his therapist suggested he try to do V-lives with the members, explain his condition to ATINY and get the support from them everybody except him knew he would get.

It took some convincing but six months after the incident they gathered in their dorm and Hongjoong made his first appearance since the Award show. As expected, ATINY showed nothing but support, worried but understanding. Slowly Hongjoong stuttered through an explanation of what had happened, taking care to highlight the dangers of doing sports when sick. When his words failed him, Seonghwa and the younger members didn’t rush him but helped him if he was stuck.

It was hard on Hongjoong, everybody had seen it and he fell asleep against Wooyoung at the end of the live, the excitement taking much out of him. ATINY continued to spam the chats with love-messages, thanking him for his trust in them and wishing him all the best.

When Hongjoong woke up long after the live had ended his eyes shone and he whispered: “It feels like I just conquered the world.”

⌛

Eight months later:

“How do you feel?”, Seonghwa asked, clasping Hongjoong’s hand. The two of them were standing in the tech both above the stadium from where they could see the stage and the seats that were slowly filling up with ATINY. It would be Hongjoong’s first concert since the Award show and Seonghwa wasn’t sure who of them was more nervous.

“Worried. Scared. What if I forget the lyrics?”, Hongjoong whispered, “what if something happens? What if…”

“You worked so hard, sweetheart”, Seonghwa said tenderly, stopping him from working himself up, “you won’t forget. And even if you do, nobody will blame you. Don’t be scared. You’ve come so far and I am so incredibly proud of you.”

Hongjoong squeezed his hand tightly but kept quiet, staring down at the fans.

“They really missed me, hm?”, Hongjoong whispered, a bit choked up. Below them were so so many signs with his name on them. ‘Hongjoong-oppa, we missed you’, ‘Hongjoong, forever you are our star’, ‘Hongjoong, we love you!’, ‘8 makes 1 team’.

“They did, we all did miss you”, Seonghwa responded, reading the signs himself. “It was strange without you on the stage with us.”

“Twenty minutes until stage”, they were told through the in-ears they were already wearing.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s conquer one more stage together.”

Hongjoong smiled and turned around to the stairs down with one last glance back at ATINY.

“I really missed this.”

Notes: reposted from ao3

Symptoms predating sudden cardiac death might include pain in the chest, radiating to the left arm not unlike a heart attack, and nausea. It is caused by arrhythmia (unregular heart beats in Hongjoong’s case due to the inflammation in the heart).

“Cursive sentences are spoken in English.”

Everything bold is what Hongjoong writes.

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - ATEEZ

[denimbex1986]

'Andrew Scott has played two of British Television’s most fascinating characters and has become a pop culture staple. The ‘Hot Priest’ of Fleabag gained notoriety for his role as James Moriarty in BBC’s Sherlock starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman. Since then, he has appeared in a number of prominent roles.

The Ripley star is extremely private about his personal life, although he has spoken about his childhood and sexuality. The Irish national is openly gay and has been a vocal advocate of LGBTQIA+ rights. On the occasion of his 48th birthday, here are a few facts about Scott that fans might now know about him.

1. Andrew Scott Began Acting To Get Over A Speech Impediment

Andrew Scott began his career on the stage and went on to appear in independent Irish films. He reportedly began acting as a child, joining the Speech and Drama class. In an interview with BBC’s This Cultural Life, Scott admitted that he initially joined the class to help with a lisp he had. He said,

The reason I started Speech and Drama was more for the speech element. I had a real lisp when I was a kid and I had to go to these elocution lessons… Eventually, that disappeared, as it does for a lot of children, but then I really got into the drama element.

Scott also mentioned that acting really helped him while he was struggling during his teenage years.

2. Andrew Scott Had A Small Role In Saving Private Ryan

Fans have seen Andrew Scott as the disgruntled soldier in 1917, but he apparently played a really small part in one of the best war films of all time. Scott revealed that he was one of the soldiers who got killed at the opening of Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan, where the American soldiers storm the beaches of Normandy.

Scott mentioned that he even had a line. However, his work with Spielberg did not end there as he went on to appear in the series Band of Brothers, which was produced by him. The Sherlock star mentioned that working on the show and the film made him realize that he was not a ‘fighter’ (via BBC).

3. Andrew Scott Hated The Initial Response To Sherlock

Tumblr users in the early 2010s remember that the decade was dominated by BBC’s Sherlock, which starred Benedict Cumberbatch as a contemporary version of Sherlock Holmes. The actor was aptly opposed by Andrew Scott’s James Moriarty, his arch-nemesis. Beginning with the final episode of series one, Scott won the BAFTA for his role.

However, Scott was reportedly saddened by some criticisms that he had received when the episode first aired and even called co-creator Mark Gatiss to apologize. He said to BBC,

Some people thought it was great and were really celebrating it, but some people absolutely hated it. I was devastated by that. And embarrassed. I thought, ‘Oh my god, I’ve completely humiliated myself’… I remember calling Mark Gatiss and saying, ‘I’m really sorry.’ Because of course, all you remember is the negative stuff. He said, ‘Oh god, I meant to say, never go online’.

The actor reportedly went on to have a healthier attitude towards criticism.

4. The 1917 Star First Commented On His Sexuality In 2013

Andrew Scott has been vocal about his sexuality and has come out as gay. He has since spoken about LGBTQIA+ rights and what representation in the media does to people who are going through similar struggles. Though he is extremely private, he first spoke about his sexuality in an interview with The Independent. He said,

Mercifully, these days people don’t see being gay as a character flaw. But nor is it a virtue, like kindness. Or a talent, like playing the banjo. It’s just a fact. Of course, it’s part of my make-up, but I don’t want to trade on it. I am a private person; I think that’s important if you’re an actor.

According to GQ, the actor was reportedly encouraged to keep his sexuality a secret during the initial stages of his career.

5. Andrew Scott Initially Wanted To Be An Artist

While everyone is delighted that Andrew Scott picked acting and performed in brilliant roles, the Ripley star reportedly dreamed of being an artist as a child. He said to BBC that he was planning on following in his mother’s footsteps as she was an art teacher. He said,

When I was six or seven, I knew I was really interested in painting and drawing. I was really obsessed with it growing up. On a fateful day, when I was 17, I had to choose between these two things,” he says. “I’m left with a sense of guilt… because [painting] was such a huge part of my life growing up, and it’s not as much a part of my life now.

Scott had almost chosen the path and had reportedly won a grant to study painting, but chose acting as he was offered a role in the Irish drama Korea on the same day.'

[eloise-t-g]

long post ahead. i wanted to respond to some of the things i've seen people saying about the watcher situation. i honestly just needed to get some of this stuff off my chest lmao.

"sorry, the bridge has been burnt and i can no longer support watcher" - valid.

"i'm happy with this compromise and will continue to watch their content" - valid.

"oh so they apologise, change nothing, and now people are happy to give them money?" - things have changed. they compromised and completely changed their plan for the new website. did you not watch the update video? they're also issuing refunds to anyone who wants one.

"i bet people who over-reacted feel real stupid now!" - some people over-reacted, but a lot of people had valid criticisms and concerns. they shouldn't feel stupid if they expressed it in a non-abusive way.

"yay, we successfully bullied them into changing their minds!" - you're ... you're proud that you bullied someone? this isn't fucking elon musk or jeff bezos. these guys aren't multibillionaires exploiting their employees. these are three youtubers who want to pay themselves and their employees a living wage, while making content they're proud of, and they made a simple fucking mistake. stop throwing around the term 'eat the rich' as though it applies here.

"the apology video is clearly PR!" - yes, watcher is a business. this is how a business responds to situations like this. they had abuse hurled at them for 48 hours straight, they shouldn't feel bad for wanting to make sure everything said in the video was 100% agreed upon and analysed beforehand.

"steven was clearly the one behind this, he should be fired or step down!" - was he? do you know that for a fact? cause from what i saw, all three of them got in front of the camera and made the announcement video together. i agree that he should step down as CEO, but only because they clearly need someone who has actual business experience leading them (if you remember, ryan and shane stepped down a while ago because they didn't want to deal with that side of the company anymore - in the same video, they thanked steven for being the sole reason watcher was still going).

"they shouldn't have been silent the whole weekend" - maybe so, but it's clear they went into lockdown/crisis mode. also, businesses aren't open on weekends. i think it's fair that they waited until monday and took their time with it. maybe they should have tweeted something like "we're sorry and we're working on an explanation", but that just would have given people another place to attack them.

"you're all being parasocial" - i've seen this used against both people who are supporting/giving the team the benefit of the doubt, and people who are against everything. a lot of people (myself included) have used this experience to realise they were developing/had developed a parasocial relationship with these men. this is a good thing - it allows us to recognise these things and make changes within ourselves.

i think generally people are more parasocial towards youtubers than celebrities in films and tv shows. YT feels like there is a barrier removed between the creators and us; it makes us feel like we know these people in a way that we don't know actors who are always playing different roles. YT makes it easier to believe we're seeing the real people, when we really don't know them at all.

"why should i pay someone who owns a tesla?" - you don't have to. also, steven has been working consistently for years. it doesn't surprise me that he has enough savings for an expensive car. people are allowed to own things that you and i can't afford.

"they're embarrassed to be youtubers" - might be true, who knows. but for me it feels more like they want to be taken seriously as filmmakers/television producers, and don't feel like they can do that on YT.

"there's clearly money mismanagement going on" - i think this is likely. i personally don't know what it's like to run a business like this, which is why i've been watching videos from other youtubers who do. since they're saying they don't know where the funds are going, i'm inclined to believe watcher's budget is way off what it should be.

"why didn't they initially say they were having money troubles and might close doors?" - i can see both sides of this. i believe they should have recognised that their audience would have been more receptive to this kind of honesty. however, if you're asking people to give you money, while also saying the venture might not work out, it doesn't engender a great deal of trust. why should i pay for a 12 month sub if it's possible watcher will fold in 6? who will be around to issue me a refund then?

"we were happy with blue and yellow text on a screen!" - valid, but it's clear that they weren't. they clearly want to push themselves further creatively. on the other hand, it definitely feels like they got impatient and wanted that future creation to start now, when they don't have the funds for it. they shouldn't have tried to force their loyal audience to pay for content the audience didn't ask for.

"i don't want to fund steven, andrew, and adam flying around the world eating expensive food." - very valid. i wonder how different things would have been if this 'Worth It' revival had come around 6 months earlier. it still would have been tone deaf in a global living crisis, but i don't think people would have been this upset. what i don't understand is them doing this show if they genuinely couldn't afford it, which is the implication i got from them announcing it just before announcing the paywall.

"why don't they move their office out of LA?" - that would be incredibly expensive, especially for a company that is struggling financially. they would have to uproot their entire lives, and would probably lose a great number of their staff who don't want to/can't move. they would have to completely start over, which is something i imagine they're desperately trying to avoid.

i think the cancel culture that has grown in popularity over the internet over the last few years has led people to believe that:

they can say whatever they want online with no consequences.

people aren't allowed to make a single mistake, and should understand that when they do, it's okay to for others to spew hate and awfulness towards them.

part of me doesn't even know why i made this post, i think i just got sick of seeing the same complaints and questions lmao.