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mirisss · 9 months

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The Beauty Inside of You

Ateez OT8 x afab! reader

True Beauty (K-drama) inspired. In this, all members of Ateez are the same age as (Y/n).

Warnings: Bullying (both physical and verbal), low self-esteem, angst, sort of mentioning suicide (not saying it outright but saying something like “thought you were gone forever”).

Wordcount ≈ 2.8k

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!

Please reblog!

Third Person POV

Cherry’s Café is one of Seoul's most popular cafés. Located in a small and cozy building is a family-run café that has grown into one of the city’s most loved cafés. The (L/n) family opened the café 22 years ago just before their firstborn child was born, now 22 years later, the family has three children. (L/n) Jaehyun, the oldest, (L/n) Yunjin, the middle child, and (L/n) (Y/n), the youngest. (Y/n) is still in high school while her older siblings are studying at university but most of the time, they work at the café along with their parents.

(Y/n) is a sweet and nice girl who focuses on her studies, she has a nice friend group at school. She isn’t one of those loud kids, she’s more on the quiet side. This is why most people were surprised when they found out that (Y/n) was dating the resident bad boys of the school, the eight boys known by their ‘gang’ name, Ateez.

Kim Hongjoong, Park Seonghwa, Choi San, Kang Yeosang, Song Mingi, Jung Wooyoung, Choi Jongho, and Jeong Yunho, also known as Ateez. The eight resident bad boys, while it’s known that they have been in a fight or two, mostly people call them bad boys because of the way they dress and the fact that they feel so, untouchable.

Everyone was surprised when Ateez began hanging out with (Y/n) and her friend group, and soon enough when Ateez announced that they and (Y/n) were dating. Most people just congratulated them and moved on, while some people couldn’t accept that (Y/n) had landed the eight hottest boys in school. However, these people, mostly girls, couldn’t let others see their distaste for the relationship so they pretended to be nice until they were alone with (Y/n).

“Ya, (Y/n), you ugly bitch!” (Y/n) quickly looked up at the mirror to see who was behind her in the bathroom, finding a group of 5 girls that she had seen around school but never really interacted with. “What?” (Y/n) was confused, why were these girls cussing her out? “What? Don’t play dumb. You're an ugly bitch who doesn’t deserve to live,” “I’m not playing dumb, what have I ever done to you?” The group laughed mockingly while glaring at (Y/n). “You stole our boyfriends,” “I didn’t know you guys had boyfriends,” “Ateez were ours, not yours, but now you’ve stolen them,” The girl who appeared to be the leader of the group pushed (Y/n)’s shoulder harshly so that her back bumped into the sink behind her.

“They have never said anything about past girlfriends or boyfriends,” Just as the girls were preparing to continue the argument, someone approached the bathroom door so the group dispersed and went out. (Y/n) thought the interaction was weird but she shook it off as a one-time thing. However, she was wrong. Each day, it seemed like those girls harassed her more and more. It started as just verbal harassment but the more (Y/n) stood up for herself, the more agitated the girls became which resulted in their abuse turning from verbal to physical.

The first time they turned physical wasn’t too bad. Once again, they were in the bathroom. (Y/n) was backed up against a wall, the leader of the group held a lukewarm cup of water in her hand that she threw in (Y/n)’s face. It stung but fortunately, it wasn’t boiling warm so no real damage was made. “Break up with them or this will become worse,” The leader said as she glared at (Y/n). “Woah, look at her face, so ugly,” Another one of the girls proclaimed loudly.

Because of the lukewarm water, her make-up had been ruined, revealing red-blemished cheeks. The redness came mostly from the warm water but also from light acne. The girls laughed at her and mocked her for her ‘ugly’ face. “Shut up, there’s nothing wrong with my face,” The girls left laughing like hyenas after that. (Y/n) cried a few tears as she tried to clean herself up.

Each day the bullying became worse. But she didn’t say anything to her family or her boyfriends. The Ateez boys noticed that she was dressing differently from before, more long sleeves and pants rather than t-shirts and skirts. But they put it up to winter approaching, the cold weather requiring warmer clothes.

“(Y/n)-ah, sweety, want to go see a movie after school?” “Sure, Yunho. Which movie should we watch? Are the others joining us?” “Mm, Mingi is coming and I think Hongjoong’s coming too. We’re thinking of watching that new comedy movie or the new horror movie, any movie in particular that you want to see?” “I don’t care, as long as I’m with you guys I’ll be happy!” Yunho pulled (Y/n) into a tight hug as they laughed, soon enough their teacher came and Yunho had to move to his own seat.

Later that day, (Y/n), Yunho, Mingi, Hongjoong, and Jongho who decided to join them, were standing in line to buy their tickets and snacks. The group of girls who bullied (Y/n) followed them to the cinema, upset that (Y/n) didn’t seem to take them seriously. The girls walked over to (Y/n) and the boys, sickly sweet fake smiles on their faces as they pretended to be friends with (Y/n). “(Y/n)? Omg, so nice to run into you here, oh, and some of the Ateez boys too!” Hongjoong noticed the uncomfortable look in (Y/n)’s eyes as she noticed the girls. “Hi, I’m Yunho. Are you friends with (Y/n)?” “Yes, I’m surprised you haven’t noticed us before,” The girls tried their best to flirt with Yunho as he was the only one to give them any attention. “We have to go now, goodbye,” Hongjoong said before he pulled his s/o’s with him, leaving the cinema.

“Huh? Weren’t we gonna see a movie?” Jongho questioned. “Yeah, but I think I rather do it at home,” Hongjoong muttered as they continued walking. After they were far from the cinema, he came to a stop, turning to look at (Y/n). “Who are those girls?” “I don’t know, they go to our school, I never really talk with them,” “You seemed uncomfortable when they came around,” “I just don’t know them, that’s all,” The boys bought (Y/n)’s explanation and went to the boys' apartment to watch a movie.

A few weeks later, (Y/n) was in charge of closing up her family’s café as her parents and siblings were away at a meeting. With only five minutes left until closing time, the café was pretty much empty. The sky was dark outside, the wind cold and harsh as winter was just days away. She was cleaning up behind the counter when the bell over the door rang, indicating that someone had walked inside. She turned around with a smile, ready to welcome whoever this last-minute customer was. However, her smile dropped as she was met with the disapproving glares of the girls from her school.

“Hello ugly,” “Welcome to Cherry’s Café, how can I help you?” “You can help us by disappearing, you disgrace of a human being,” “We close in 3 minutes, do you wish to buy some muffins or a cake?” (Y/n) tried her best to keep her cool and act professional, but the girls were making it hard for her. “Whoops,” The leader of the girls pushed a beautiful cake off the counter onto the floor. “No!” (Y/n) exclaimed. “Wow, you are one clumsy girl,” Another one of them said as she proceeded to take some muffins and cupcakes and throw them on the floor. Another girl took a cupcake with a lot of frosting on it, walked over to (Y/n), and harshly smudged it into (Y/n)’s face. “What a messy girl, how can you represent a nice place like this when you look like a pig?”

The girls continued tormenting (Y/n) by trashing the café, throwing cakes and sweets all over the floor and some on (Y/n). Even taking the water (Y/n) had prepared to use to mop the floor and pouring it over (Y/n)’s head. Sooking her in half-dirty water. (Y/n) began crying, seeing her family’s beloved café trashed, and hearing all the insults the girls were throwing her way. One of the girls took up her phone and began recording (Y/n), who sat on the dirty floor, crying, begging them to stop.

“Please stop, please,” “Oh? What was that? You pig, this is your mess, hmm? Pigs belong in dirty pigsties after all,” “Remember, you’re nothing more than an ugly pig,” The girls themselves couldn’t be seen in the video, only (Y/n). Once they had ruined every single cake and sweet in the café, they left. (Y/n) stayed on the floor crying for a few minutes before she got up and began cleaning up. Not wanting her parents to find the café trashed.

2 days later, the bullies posted the video of (Y/n) crying in the café on the school’s home page and all the social media that they could access. Almost everyone at school had seen the video, and while they didn’t find (Y/n) as ugly as those girls said, they laughed at her for looking so pathetic. As she walked through the corridors people laughed at her, some even making grunting noises to imitate a pig. (Y/n) couldn’t take it anymore and ran away crying. She ran out of school, just running as far as she could.

(Y/n)’s head teacher had seen the video and immediately called her parents to inform them of the situation. “Mr. Kim, what is this about? Has (Y/n) done something?” Her mother asked, worried after being requested to come to the school instantly. “(Y/n) hasn’t done anything, this is about a situation that involves your daughter and some other girls who are suspected of attending this high school. Let me show you a video that was anonymously posted on the school’s page,” Mr. Kim showed them the video, (Y/n)’s parents almost began crying as they saw how their youngest daughter was being treated. “As of right now, we don’t know where (Y/n) is, her friends told us that she ran out of school after some people made fun of her in the corridors,” “Oh, this is terrible, we have to find her,” Her parents tried to call her but (Y/n) wasn’t answering. She had turned off her phone, not wanting to see any more mean comments about her.

Seonghwa, San, Wooyoung, and Yeosang were hanging out at Ateez’s place with a close friend of Wooyoung’s, Changbin. They had decided to ditch school that day and just chill at home. Changbin was using his phone, just scrolling through social media when he came upon a video with a girl that looked fairly familiar. “Hey, isn’t this (Y/n), your girlfriend?” He showed the other boys the video. “What the hell? Yeah, that’s (Y/n),” “Who the fuck did this to her?” All of them felt their blood boiling as they saw the tears falling down their girlfriend’s face. Seonghwa picked up his, dialing Hongjoong’s number. “Have you seen the video?” Was the first thing Seonghwa asked as Hongjoong picked up. “Yeah, just saw it, do you know where (Y/n) is? She’s not picking up our calls” “I might have an idea,” Seonghwa said before they hung up. Seonghwa sent the address to Hongjoong before they all hurried to try and find (Y/n).

After about an hour, the eight boys had grouped up and finally, they found (Y/n). She was sitting in a small park that not many people went to. She once mentioned that she would go to this park when she was feeling down. (Y/n) said that she used to hang out at that park with her siblings when they were younger. “(Y/n), baby,” Wooyoung said as he walked over to her, enveloping her in a gentle hug. Soon enough, the entire group had joined the hug as (Y/n) cried.

“Why didn’t you tell us that they were bullying you?” San asked, his eyes just as teary as (Y/n)’s. “I thought I could handle it, it wasn’t that bad in the beginning, but then it just became worse and worse,” “You should have come to us, we want to be there for you,” Yeosang said as he caressed (Y/n)’s cheek, wiping away some of the tears that stained it. “I know, but, I just, I just wanted to be strong,” “Asking for help is also being strong,” Mingi said as he pulled off his coat, putting it over (Y/n)’s shoulders. When she left the school she didn’t have her jacket with her so she had been sitting in the park in the cold without a jacket.

“Come on, I think you should go home. Your family must be worried sick about you,” Seonghwa said. The boys walked her home, knocking on the door as they arrived. Yunjin was the one who opened the door, she immediately threw herself at (Y/n), pulling her into a tight hug. “(Y/n), omg, you’re okay, we were so worried, mom and dad are out of their minds, they thought you were gone forever,” “Mom! Dad! (Y/n)’s here,” Jaehyun yelled as he came to the door to check who it was. Their parents came running out and joined Yunjin in hugging (Y/n). Jaehyun soon joined the hug too.

“Darling, we were so worried. The school called and they showed us this terrible video of you being bullied at the café, and then you didn’t answer our calls and you were gone for hours,” “I’m sorry mom,” “It’s okay, honey. You’re home now, it’s all fine,” “Thank you for bringing her home boys,” (Y/n)’s dad said as he turned to the eight boys that stood a few steps behind them. “No worries, we were worried about her too. I’m sorry we didn’t call you the second that we found her,” Jongho apologized to them as Ateez all looked down at the ground.

“Would you boys want to join us for dinner?” (Y/n)’s mom asked as she smiled with teary eyes at the boys. (Y/n)’s family might not have known about her relationship with the eight boys yet, but all they knew was that these boys cared deeply for (Y/n) and (Y/n) for them. “We’d love to,” Seonghwa answered. The dinner helped (Y/n) cheer up as both her family and her boyfriends joked around to make her smile. Hongjoong later asked (Y/n) if the girls they ran into at the cinema were the ones who had bullied her, and when she confirmed his suspicion he went to the teacher and told them who the people behind it were. The girls were then suspended from school and their parents had to pay a fine to the café because of what the girls had done. Ateez also took it upon themselves to make sure no one else would hurt (Y/n) ever again.

“Am I ugly?” (Y/n) asked one late night as she and Ateez sat in the boys’ living room. “Why would you ask that?” Yeosang proclaimed as he shook his head. “You’re the prettiest girl in the world, so no, you’re not ugly,” Yunho said. “It’s just, those girls kept calling me ugly and a pig, just because I have some acne, so I don’t know, I guess I began feeling like I actually am ugly,” “Don’t listen to them, you are beautiful just the way you are. No matter if you’re tall or short, have clear skin or not, no matter how you look on the outside you will be pretty because you are so wonderful and beautiful on the inside,” Jongho answered as all of the boys looked at (Y/n) with nothing but love in their eyes. “I love you guys,” “We love you too,”

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outro-jo · 1 year

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pairing: choi jongho x reader

type: blurb

summary: being hongjoong’s older sibling certainly does have perks

warnings: none really?, implied age gap, jongho is of age here (bc ew), i kinda hate this

request: yes

a/n: the gif is for the vibe don’t really pay attention to the people bc as usual i didn’t assign a gender to the reader

masterlist | info

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for the longest time you just had one younger sibling and then one day, you gained what you thought to be 7 more. when hongjoong became the leader of ateez, the rest of the boys loved you from as soon as they met you. they teased you just like your were their own older sibling. you started to develop a special bond with each member but there was one that seemed a little different from the rest.

whenever you came to visit your brother, things seemed normal at first. the boys were polite, eventually feeling more comfortable to joke and poke fun at you. jongho, however, seemed to have a different energy about him. he never really joked quite like the others but the air about him seemed to still tease you. there were times when even small things he did would make you blush. it was something in the way he spoke to you or even looked at you. these moment seems to imprint on your mind and you found your thoughts wandering to him even when you were away.

you were finally able to move to seoul on your own when you could secure a job. the boys were super helpful when moving in all your stuff and bringing in new furniture. honestly, they were just excited to have another place to come hang out.

the saturday after moving in, you busied yourself with setting up your new apartment. arranging and rearranging furniture just the way you wanted but a few pieces were too heavy to move around so you decided to call in some reinforcements. jongho told you he could come after some final recordings so in the meantime, you arranged and unpacked what you could.

the afternoon found you standing on a chair to hang a picture on the wall. where you wanted to place it was a little higher than you could comfortably reach causing you to stand on the unstable chair on your tiptoes. you did your best to navigate the wobbles and stay upright. the knock at the door hardly fazed you and you invited whoever it was in without even giving a glance to the door.

“hey, y/n! did you need some—“ jongho wasn’t able to finish his sentence as his quick reflexes kicked in.

the chair had leaned a little too far and you found yourself going down. it all felt as if it was moving in slow motion as you fell but a pair of arms grabbing you just before your head hit the ground. you stared up wide eyed at jongho, his eyes as wide as yours but his lips dangerously close to yours. the air in your lungs stilled for a beat as your brain tried to take in all that was happening.

“are you ok?” jongho nearly whispered.

“i think so.” it took you a minute to answer.

you were suddenly aware of jongho’s hand that reached up to brush a stray hair behind your ear as he continued to hold you. his once wide, concerned eyes melted into a softer, almost flirtatious gaze. butterflies swarmed in your stomach and you felt a burning in your cheeks.

“yah, you’re so clumsy!” the voice from the doorway broke you from your trance. hongjoong sauntered in, rolling his eyes at you playfully with some of the other boys following behind. jongho brought you back to a vertical position and the group continued the work you started in your apartment.

turns out your brother joining ateez meant you gained six other siblings… and a crush.

#kpop #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #ateez #kpop reactions #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #jongho #choi jongho #jongho fanfic #jongho imagines #jongho reactions #jongho scenarios #jongho blurb

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ao3feed-ateez · 3 months

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Crownless Hearts ATEEZ Jongho x fem! Reader

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/bPOL8Uy by astrocerus The country of Korea is facing new changes when the palace announces the selection for their prince. Despite her unwillingness to go, Y/n is faced with being part of the thirty-six ladies to conquer Prince Jongho's heart. As they navigate their unlikely connection, they must confront their diverging paths and the expectations of their society. © All Rights Reserved The Perfect Boyfriend ~Choi Jongho x Reader~ the selection but with slight twists* Words: 6311, Chapters: 3/3, Language: English Fandoms: ATEEZ (Band), The Selection Series - Kiera Cass Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Choi Jongho (ATEEZ), Choi Jongho's Mother (ATEEZ), Choi San (ATEEZ), Kim Hongjoong, Song Mingi (ATEEZ), Kang Yeosang, Jeong Yunho (ATEEZ), Jung Wooyoung (ATEEZ), Park Seonghwa Relationships: Choi Jongho (ATEEZ)/Reader, Choi Jongho (ATEEZ)/You Additional Tags: Choi Jongho-centric (ATEEZ), Siblings Choi Jongho & Choi San (ATEEZ), Soft Choi San (ATEEZ), Inspired by The Selection Series - Kiera Cass, Based on The Selection Series - Kiera Cass, Romance, Action, Character Death, Slow Build, No Smut read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/bPOL8Uy

#ao3feed #ateez fic #ateez rpf #ateez fanfic #kpop rpf

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jameui · 2 years

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DISASTROUS (ANGST CENTER)

PAIRING: Multi Boy Group x M!Reader

GENRE: Angst

WARNING: A very sad ending, flashbacks, events are purely out of imagination and should not be taken by heart

SUMMARY: It was fun 'til it lasted.

Left alone again in the rain, like usual while your brothers had went on their way with their car partying at a place where you know would be smelling like sex and alcohol. You already figured the six of them would be coming home again drunk or brought a few girls with them to play with, you having to deal with all of the frustrated and disappointed girls due to waking up to an empty bed. It wasn't your fault though, you always though, but why is that you always went to school with a slap mark on your face?

With that aside, you heaved out a sigh as your breathe shook in sadness. You didn't know what to feel. You did have your fun times with your brothers. You always prioritized them, but why is it that when it comes to you, nobody even notices you. You even got the title 'The Forgotten Choi'. It was horrible. Was it because you were only an adoptive brother of theirs? Is that the reason why they treat you this way?

You finally arrived at your home and got inside to see the eldest among your siblings whipping his head towards you and ran to you before he engulfed you in a warm and welcoming embrace. "Perfect timing, little chic. Your birthday cake's just about to arrive." He said and ruffled your head, you looking up at him in pure shock, not thinking that someone would remember your birthday.

"Hyung... you remembered?" Your eyes sparkled in appreciation, the taller male nodding his head proudly and waisted his arms while you squealed out of joy and hopped about in your place like a bunny. You wrapped your arms back around him and nestled your face closer to his chest, while the other caressed the top of your head in a soothing way. "Thank you, hyungie. Thank you so much. I will never forget this."

Suddenly, the door broke open and you saw the rest of your family, specifically your brothers rushing inside the room, the youngest of them barely having any clothes on. "What happened to your clothes?" You asked him as the male looked at himself and blushed due to embarrassment.

"Had to rush out from the club to buy you your favorite pork cutlets." He stated, showing you the plastic he was holding where the food was stored in.

You laughed softly at him before the food was set on the table, soon devouring it deliciously after you had blown the candle on your chocolate mousse cake. "Happy Birthday, M/n."

"Thank you, all. I wish it was always like this." You muttered to yourself, before everything faded to grey as you were yet struck by reality once again your heart aching at the once happy life you had. Now, back to being alone once more.

BREAKING NEWS: There had been a serious car to truck accident taken place near Busan and according to some local citizens, the crash happened caused by drunk driving. The victims are identified as:

Choi San

Choi Yeonjun

Choi Jongho

Choi Soobin

Choi Beomgyu

Choi Byungchan

#x male reader #male reader #bxb #fanfiction #idol x male reader #kpop #angsty #ateez x male reader #enhypen x male reader #txt x male reader #txt yeonjun x male reader #txt beomgyu #txt choi soobin #txt soobin x male reader #txt beomgyu x male reader #san x male reader #jongho x male reader #victon x male reader #byungchan x male reader

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atozfic · 3 years

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blushing red.

pairing. choi san x fem!reader.

synopsis. how did choi san go from wanting to protect you like a big brother to wanting to ruin you with his own two hands? ( part of the rainbow riots anthology series. )

warnings. college au, barista!san, brother!wooyoung, frenemies to lovers, angst, fluff, ossessiveness, pining, shit attempts at humour, too much cursing, san is a whipped idiot, reader is kinda a bitch, jongho is a fuckboy, wooyoung’s just trying to be a chef, okay?, mentions of alcohol induced vomiting, food, toxic traits and commitment issues, smut: dom!san, switch!reader, clit play, nipple play, thigh riding, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), one (1) spank, riding, protected sex, penetrative sex, kinda fluffy sex??, very brief aftercare, idk if there’s anything else.

word count. 11k

hyde’s input. if this flops, honestly don’t think i’d care because i had so much fun writing this. it was mostly self-indulgent. it’s not the best but i’m happy to finally be posting it, since it’s the first part of a larger series of oneshots involving the ateez members. feedback would be appreciated but also, i really don’t care if you don’t like this. i love it and my opinion is golden, so. /j

He’s seeing red.

And it wasn’t because of the countless red dresses that were scattered throughout the room, nor the messily done ties strangled around sweaty necks; the red cups filled with bitter liquids, nor the crimson flushed cheeks of guests.

It was a red themed evening, to which San could only think of how horribly cliché it was, and how perfectly suiting to the girl the party was being thrown in honour of, the human embodiment of what it meant to be red; to be passionate and courageous; angry and powerful. The very same girl he was watching swallow the tongue of some rosy cheeked, red haired punk.

As the drink in his hand parted his lips, a wave of intoxication slipping down his throat, San couldn’t help but think about how the boy was clearly all bark and no bite. He knew him- well, of him, at the very least,- this so called Choi Jongho. A notorious flirt; a ladies man; the kind of boy who you punch for even looking your little sister’s way. San was too prideful, he’d been told this by exes and friends alike, and it’s that very same pride that had him laughing aloud at the way the Jongho kid couldn’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands; at how his eyes were wide open; at how he was using far too much tongue for it to be comfortable.

Maybe, San wondered, it was the perfect excuse to storm over there, tear Jongho and his wagging tongue away. After all, he couldn’t just stand back and watch you be choked to death by the kid’s kissing inabilities!

He opts for tearing the lid off of another beer instead of the head off of Jongho.

There’s a chance it was already past one too many drinks for him that night but San had never been good at controlling himself, of denying himself something he wanted. So he welcomed in the drink and finally looked elsewhere in the room.

The decorations told him this wasn’t the surprise party it was meant to be, because he knew your older brother well enough. Hell, there’s a high chance he knew more about the eldest Jung sibling than he did about himself. Wooyoung barely knew how to tie his own shoe laces, never mind the perfect ribbon, and he was more into getting baked than learning how to bake a cake. If San tried hard enough, he could perfectly picture you in the kitchen, an apron loosely tied around one of your usually effortlessly pretty outfits- one of those tightfitting sweaters you loved so much tucked into a loose fitting skirt, or a pretty little summer dress, or a stupidly oversized graphic tee you bought from the men’s department covering a pair of laughably short shorts; all enough to drive the blood straight out of San’s brain and down to his other head-, your hair a complete mess with the slightest bit of flour dusting your flushed cheeks as you squint to read at your phone, too stubborn to wear your glasses and too lazy to put in your contact lenses.

Yes, you’d definitely played a hand in setting up your own surprise birthday party and it suddenly had San wishing he was enjoying himself more. But, you see, enjoyment is a hard thing to feel when the girl you only recently accepted your complicated feelings for was swapping pints of saliva with some other guy across the room. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak to you once the whole night, not even a moment to wish you a happy birthday.

It wasn’t like San should have cared that much. You hadn’t even invited him, his reason for being there the very same one he had any time he came round your house: Wooyoung. The boy had more-or-less told him he was attending, whether he liked it or not, because “I’ll be damned if I’m stuck chaperoning this party by myself.”

San often thought Wooyoung forgot there was only really one year between you two. But, you were his little sister and it only seemed right he thought of you as the smiling idiot who would run over to him in tears every time you tripped over your untied laces and scraped your knee. The dimpled boy couldn’t stop himself from wondering when he’d stopped thinking of you that way.

Where he once had thoughts of protecting you from the corruption men and their intentions brought along, he now fantasized about being the man to corrupt you. If only Wooyoung were really capable of reading his mind the way he claimed he could, San’s medical bills would be sky-high.

“I don’t remember seeing you on the guest list, Choi.” The words were a little slurred, like their owner wasn’t quite aware of the fact they were speaking, but it was enough to make San jump where he stood, head turning away from staring off at some deflating balloon.

There you were, a sight for sore eyes. The lipstick you’d once been wearing had been diminished to no more than a tint of playful redness on your lips, the rest of it likely now painted across Jongho's tongue. Your hair was tied back in a neat bun and, though it was displaying your pretty little neck and your doe eyes, San thinks of how much prettier it was when it was an unkept mess, like all those mornings after sleeping over in Wooyoung’s room and coming down for breakfast just to find you and your bedhead angrily trying to scoop up the last few bits of your cereal.

“Guest list?” he scoffed, his frustrations coming out in the form of disinterest. “Do you think you’re the fucking queen of England or something?”

“Trust me, you’d be long ago thrown in a bottomless pit by now if I were the queen of anything.” Your reply was weak and that’s enough to satisfy him, because he knew you were irked. San knew you believed he was one of the most annoying things to grace earth and he revelled in it. Any boy with a set of lips and some smooth words could make you swoon, but no other could get you hot and bothered like Choi San. “Where’s your boyfriend? Ditched you to go socialize with someone besides you for once?”

“Wooyoung’s cleaning up your friend’s vomit from off of your parents’ carpet.” The horrified look that crossed your face was enough to coax a chuckle out of San.

The Jungs had never been overly strict parents during your childhood, never holding either of their children back from pursuing a hobby or from enjoying their youth, but there was always one rule they maintained: no party guests allowed past the ground floor of the house. And, even if Wooyoung and you were grown up, with your brother dearest no longer living at home and you spending most your weeknights in your cramped dorm room, the rule still stood firmly.

“Oh my god-” It was the first thing you choked out after a few minutes of silently spiralling in your own panicked thoughts. “They just got a new carpet. And it’s the whitest fabric i’ve ever seen. They’re going to kill us!”

“Us?” San scoffed out, liking the sound of it a little too much and in such a different context to the way you meant it. “Oh, no, this is on you. I’m not going down with you,” Though he’d have gladly gone down on you. “you’re big and ugly enough to face the consequences for your own mistakes.”

Despite saying that, his feet still seemed to carry him out of the room and trailing behind your fast walking figure. If he weren’t so busy trying to keep up with you, maybe San would have taken note of how, in a sea of red, you still managed to stand out, your ruby jumpsuit somehow just a little brighter, a little more intriguing, a little more alluring than any other piece of fabric in the house. Maybe San would have realised it wasn’t so much your outfit as it was just you in general who stood out.

But, alas, he’d now caught up to you on the stairs and he noticed the glassy shine in your eyes and the sudden look of complete sobriety on your features. Both in pace with each other, you reached the entry to your parents bedroom and stumbled upon the scene of the crime.

Kneeling on the carpeted floor, Wooyoung was scrubbing at a fresh stain, the scent of bleach and fabric cleaner not nearly enough to mask the scent of the drying vomit. There was no sight of the perpetrator, likely sent away long ago by Wooyoung, alongside whatever stranger she’d been in the middle of trying to seduce. It’s honestly a blessing she threw up. Better that than a pair of strangers fucking in the Jung’s marital bed.

“Are you both gonna just stare or are you gonna start helping me?” Wooyoung was pissed and you knew this just as much as San did. But he wasn’t going to show it yet, not until the mess was cleaned up and a plan was made. Then, and only then, would he begin quizzing you on how you managed to remember the stupidest details of your decorations yet you forgot to lock the door to the upstairs area.

San stepped in first, grabbing a load of tissues and kneeling down next to his friend, beginning to scrub at the dark spots. You soon followed suit and joined the pair. The three of you worked in silence, all hoping that if you tried hard enough, the evidence of the sin would disappear from right in front of your eyes.

The echoes of music from the party going on downstairs suddenly felt like a taunt to San, mocking all of you. Because, ideally, that was where you should all be. Down there getting senselessly drunk and bumping elbows with people who’s faces you knew yet didn’t care much for. Instead, you were thinking of ways to avoid your parents impending disappointment. Surely acquiring a new identity couldn’t be that hard, right?

San was the first one to notice a repeated sniffle in the room. At first, he tried convincing himself you were just coming down with a cold. But, the more the sound repeated itself in a perfect pattern, the sooner he noticed your tear streaked face.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Hands had now abandoned damp towelettes, reaching up to wipe at hot tears. He willed himself to ignore the burn of your soft skin against his rougher hands. San looked to Wooyoung for help because, fuck, he may have known you since you were both in elementary school but his comfort was still no replacement for your brother’s. Woo was so busy trying not to blow his fuse that he couldn’t even think to stop scrubbing at the white fabric for a moment, so San took it upon himself. “Go back down to the party, okay?

“N-no, I can’t just leave this mess-”

“Y/N.” San spoke softly, his eyes trying to stare into your own, his hands gripping your shaking shoulders gently, as if letting you go would cause you to fall apart but holding you too tight would snap you in half. “You’re going to go and enjoy the rest of your birthday, do you understand? Woo and I will deal with this.”

The moment was much nicer than your usual exchanges as of recently, and for a moment San felt like he still was protective over you like when you were all younger. You were staring at him with this look of nostalgia, like you were trying to remember the times you’d ran to San crying over your scrapped knees, when you couldn’t find your big brother. How he’d treat your little wound the same way his mother treated his: a band aid, a kiss and a lollipop. Even Wooyoung had noticed the exchange, his hands froze and his eyes focused in on the way you two were staring at each other like you were the only people in the room. So, of course, San had to go ahead and ruin it.

“Your snot and tears are just gonna give us more stains to clean anyway.”

As San wiped at the table, he questioned how exactly people managed to make such a sticky mess of things in the few hours the café was open. It had become a never ending saga, each time he was stuck with the responsibility of locking up and closing for the day, he ended up spending far more time than acceptable cleaning the surfaces thanks to customers and their inability to clean up their own spillages.

It’s not like it costs them anything to use a napkin. But, then again, maybe San was just in a sour mood over how Wooyoung was too busy trying to convince his culinary professor to give him a better grade, by feeding him some chocolate gateau and sucking his dick.

A month or so had passed since the birthday party, and San hadn’t heard much of you. There was the odd mention of your name through the walls of the apartment he shared with Wooyoung, when you’d call your brother in the early hours of the morning and beg him to come pick you up from some frat house.

Though, there were two recent things about you that San knew for sure.

To begin with, you'd for some reason began to date the Jongho kid. A fact which Wooyoung confided to San made him uncomfortable one night on their sofa, between beers and cold noodles. San could only feign confusion when Wooyoung ranted about how much he distrusted the kid and his intentions with you, no matter how much he’d wished he could shout out his agreement in that moment. The second thing he knew was that you had still not thanked him.

San was struggling to pinpoint which fact made him more frustrated.

The radio played softly in the background of his labour and San couldn’t contain himself when a familiar song came on, swaying his hips in time with the beat, swigging the rag in his hand, mumbling the lyrics to himself as he became lost in the liberating feeling of being alone. No one to watch or question him. It made him work quicker, even if San didn’t notice this. He quickly finished up with the surfaces and was on to sweeping the floors, just like how the radio station moved on to the next song.

Any business open in the surrounding area must have been startled by the sudden scream of terror that came from the café as San, with the brush mid-dipped in his arms, came face to face with a puffy, tear stained girl.

Letting the brush fall from his arms, San tried to laugh off the embarrassment of being caught in his own little world. The radio still played in the background, but it fell on deaf ears the second he noticed the redness of your eyes.

“Sorry,” you mumbled out, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder as your eyes appeared to dart around the room, searching for someone. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just, uh... wondering if Wooyoung is here?”

Taking a daring step forward, San took note of the sundress you were adorned in, the red flowers painted on to a white background so fitting to the way he’d began to see you as something innocent with splashes of sin within you. “Nah, the fucker ran off two hours ago with the excuse of having after-hour classes.”

The scoff you let out was filled with defeat and your shoulders slumped a little, undoing that picture perfect image you tried to pull off most days, leaving you with nothing but your real emotions stained across your features and the sting of unfallen tears returning to your eyes. “Typical, he’s always busy when I need him most.” You mostly aimed the words to yourself but it doesn’t mean San was going to just ignore them.

The time he’d spent cleaning the counter became meaningless, San having set his sights on cheering you up with the one way he remembered always working when you two were younger. The radio quickly became drowned out by the whistle of the kettle boiling. His eyes found their way back to you. You’d sat yourself down in one of the booths, head in your hands whilst you appeared to be mumbling away to yourself. What San wouldn’t have given to be inside your head, figure out just what he needed to do to keep you away from any harm the world tried to inflict upon you.

Turning his back to you, San grabbed two mugs, the memory of hearing you complain to Wooyoung about how paper cups aggravated you fresh in his mind. He worked by muscle memory, not needing to think over the right amount of each ingredient to pour in. His shoulders relaxed upon glancing back at you for the third time, noticing you’d pulled your hands away from your face and were instead staring out the window. The water, finally having boiled, was poured into each mug alongside some milk and a sprinkle of salt to enhance the flavours.

With four long strides, San reached the booth you had claimed for yourself, sliding the mug into your line of view. His heart nearly melted like the marshmallows in the beverage when he saw the hint of smile take over your features. He felt accomplished, like he’d reached the goal he’d set out to achieve. It gave him the confidence boost he needed to slide in across from you.

“I can’t remember the last time I had hot chocolate.” You confessed, after taking your first sip of the drink, nose scrunching up as the sweet heat burnt your tongue.

“That’s sad.” He wished, for a moment, he’d said something else. But the sound of your snorted laughter, different to the laughs laced in politeness you gave to other people, had his chest further swelling in pride.

“You and Wooyoung hang out too much, you’re starting to sound like him.” In all honesty, it wasn’t the first time he’d been told that very same thing. But it stung coming from you. He didn’t want to be just another version of your brother, not in your eyes.

But San’s desire to comfort you took precedence over any of his complicated feelings, so if playing the role of your brother was what the job required, he was willing to cut off some inches from his own height and dye his hair the same root-killing blonde as Woo.

“Speaking of that troll,” Another point in favour of San: you laughed again. “wanna tell me what you needed him for? Full offence, you burst in here with the face of a toddler who’d had it’s toys snatched.”

San caught the sugar packet you’d thrown at him with ease. “Why are you such an asshole?” The words were more of a whine leaving you, followed by a groan. “I know you think that you owe it to Wooyoung or whatever to treat me like your own little sister but you don’t. I just... wanted Wooyoung because I wanted his comfort and, i don’t know, maybe a goddamn hug from him would have been nice. But it’s whatever, the moment’s passed.”

He decided against replying, feeling nothing he said would matter much. You were clearly still upset, there was no need for him to try dig further into something you didn’t want to talk about. So he kept quiet and never spoke once, until he noticed you’d finished your hot chocolate.

“Get up.” He ordered after beginning to slide out of his seat, grabbing the two dishes. It would have taken him a few minutes at best to wash them, dry them, put them away but you were his priority. Whoever had the opening shift could deal with them.

You’d done as he asked, standing up and readjusting your bag. Unbeknownst to San, your eyes followed him around the room, for once, as he done the last few checks of everything being in it’s place and everything locked up where it was supposed to be. The blonde peaking out from under his dark hair was something you were sure he didn’t have at your birthday.

You’d began to notice little changes in him in the recent months. His face had gotten a little sharper, his arms a little buffer, his smile a little more charming. In all the years you’d known him, you’d never cared much about what he looked like or how he acted. He was always just there, the boy who your brother hung out with. Now he was becoming an enigma, like a puzzle you’d solved once before but now something was off about it. A couple pieces had been changed and you couldn’t figure out when it had happened.

Had he really changed or was it something in you, giving you a whole new outlook on his features?

“Are you coming or what?” San snapped you right back into reality, the lights now turned off in the café and the cold wind from outside floating in through where he stood holding the door open. Flustered, you rushed past him out the door and San enjoyed the lingering scent of your shampoo. But the sight of you already beginning to walk away had him quickly trying to lock the door, nearly cursing when the key got stuck for a second before finally rushing after you. “Uh uh, you’re not going to wallow in self pity back in your dorm. C’mon, let’s go.”

“This could be considered kidnapping, you know.” Your words were contradicted by the way you willingly let him take a hold of your wrist, dragging you in the direction of his car. “Can I at least know where you’re planning on dumping my body after you murder me?”

Shooting a wink over his shoulder, San chuckled. “You’ll see.”

“Would you stop staring at me like that? It's fucking creepy, dude.”

Similar to the sugar packet, San caught the fry you threw at him with ease. He shot a smile your way after popping the potato treat into his mouth and you wondered if his dimples had always been deep enough to swim in. “I'm trying to figure out if you're really that much of an idiot or just naïve.”

“For someone who offered to help, you're not doing a good job.”

The car journey had been interesting, to say the least. With the radio cranked up at a volume too high to drive safely with, San was a man on a mission. A mission to put on the performance of a lifetime. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel, his head bopped to the beat, his lungs forced him to sing along to every song. At first, you'd simply sat in the passenger seat, trying your best to not let him see how you were stealing glances at him. But then you were pulled under by his waves, his energy intoxicating your own. The smile he gave you as he pulled up to a red light, his attention completely on you, was enough to make any embarrassment slip away and it became the green light to let loose, joining him in his one man show.

He'd pulled over at a familiar place, the Neo-Cade. Somewhere you could recall celebrating many birthdays, where the boy- no, the man sat in the drivers seat next to yours had once taken a punch to the face whilst foolishly trying to stand up to a group of older boys teasing you and your friends.

It had taken five days to get the blood out of his school uniform.

Memories aside, San had taken the incentive once again to grab onto your wrist and, a little more willingly this time, you let him. Despite how you both walked shoulder to shoulder, his hand remained holding you, as if you'd somehow drift away from him in the sea of families filling up the neon-lit arcade. After a few botched attempts at beating him in skee-ball, and a successful attempt at outracing him in one of those driving games- to which you'd laughed in his face over the fact he was the one with the driving license out of you both-, San convinced you to grab a bite to eat in the small dining area. It was a hotspot for preteens on their first date, parents attempting to avoid their screaming children and, now, you two, who were somewhere between strangers and life-long friends.

“Watch it. I’m your ride home, princess.” He would have been lying if he said he didn’t find some thrill in the way your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed at the sudden pet-name. What excited him more was the fact it wasn’t the first time he’d called you that but it was certainly the first time you’d given him that reaction. “Listen, when you tell me you got stood up by a guy who’s a known womanizer, you can’t expect me to not judge you a little bit. I thought Wooyoung had done a better job at teaching you how to stay away from assholes.”

“Considering who his best friend is, Wooyoung isn’t exactly leading by example.” You mumbled before biting into your burger, irritated that he actually had a point more than anything else. “Ugh. Look, I know it’s my own fault but I just got caught up. In my defence, Jongho really did seem interested in me. The dude literally pursued me for two months! But the second I agree to a date, he’s suddenly changed his mind? Guess the chase was the only thing he wanted.”

“You’re not the first girl he’s led on, it’s what people like him do best.” San’s eyes seemed more apologetic this time, as if he didn’t think you were a complete idiot. Maybe a little naïve, yes, and stupidly blind to the fact someone was sat right in front of you who would chase you to hell and back. Blaming you for falling for someone’s charms wasn’t something he could do, though. “You know what we need to do?”

If only San knew how your nerves tingled with excitement at the word we. “Enlighten me, Bok Choi.”

It was his turn to throw a fry at you, which you failed to catch and hurried to pick up from the floor, a few parents glaring at you both, likely questioning what a pair of college kids were doing throwing food at one another. “Didn’t you promise your mum you’d stop calling me that in Junior year?”

“I guess things have changed since then.” Neither of you had the guts to admit you weren’t referring to the awful nickname.

“Anyway, we need to get you to that whack-a-mole machine and have you picture Jongho’s face on them. You’ll get the high score in no time,” The conversation came to a pause as a crash rang out through the area, the image of the young waitress that had served you both profusely apologising to a larger gentleman covered in pizza sauce becoming the centre of attention for most, if not all, people sat at a table. “which would win us a free milkshake to split.”

“Why would we be splitting it? I’m the one who put in the effort.”

“And I’m the one who put in the money. It’s a collaborative job, not just a feature.” There were so many things he’d had to work himself up to do this evening: sitting across from you in the café, offering to comfort you, holding you by your wrist. But his next move didn’t even process itself properly before he was doing it, hand reaching over the table to swipe at the sauce painting the corner of your lip, his eyes locking on yours when he brought his dirtied thumb up to his mouth.

A cold sweat broke out on the back of your neck, your mind sending you into a spiral of thoughts of San in compromising positions, cleaning more than just a little sauce off of his fingers. It’s embarrassing how much he’d affected you, and completely against your nature to let him know. “You’re gross, you know?”

You never ended up winning that high score, nor the free milkshake that came with it. Neither of you cared. You were too lost in reliving your childhoods, hands cramped from the amount of intense labour they’d endured by the time closing hours arrived.

The drive back to your dorms was more mellow. The music acted only as background noise to your exchange of drunken Wooyoung tales. San had nearly swerved out of his lane when you told him about the time you’d woken up to find Wooyoung, drenched in the stench of cheap alcohol, flirting with his reflection in the mirror.

It was bittersweet to step out of his car. Even if you were beginning to feel a little tired, you weren’t exactly ready for the night to end. And neither was San. Maybe that’s why he offered to walk you to the entry of your building, and why you so eagerly accepted. The disappointment when he doesn’t take a hold of your wrist is something you could address some other time.

“Well done, Choi, I actually feel better” And you really meant it, both of you having come to a stop outside the entryway, bashful smiles on each of your faces.

“Had to prove to you I’m just as good at the job as Wooyoung is.” The words felt wrong in his own mouth and, this time, he didn’t miss out on the way disappointed look on your features. When you suddenly leapt forward, arms crashing around him, it felt too good to be true. The memory of you in the café, ranting on about your reasons for being there and wanting a hug from Wooyoung, gave him the courage to wrap his own arms around you.

“Thank you.” You spoke so softly into his chest he nearly thought he’d imagined it, if it hadn’t been for the way he felt you say it. His reply was non-verbal, a tightening of his arms to pull you even closer, no fear of the fact you’d very easily be able to hear his heart beating for you. “For tonight, and for taking the fall for the vomit in my parents room. I don’t know what you done to make them think you can do no wrong but they were far more worried at the thought that you’d possibly drank too much, than their stained carpet.” Finally, the thank you he’d been waiting for had been gifted to him.

It ignited a fire in him, awakened the sleeping dragon filled with desire in his heart. There’s no way you didn’t notice the beating of his heart, hitting so hard against his chest it could almost escape right into your embrace. But San wasn’t nervous. In fact, he was feeling more confident than he had in years around you, pulling back just enough for you to notice and gaze up at him. The only real thing that crossed his mind was how beautiful you looked, eyes filled with wonder and joy, smile etched with happiness; a happiness he’d brought you; and how, if he were to be struck down dead in that moment, San would die a happy man.

“San.” You breathed out his name, the sound becoming tangled and lost between you both.

Your eyes remained wide open unlike his own as he brought his forehead to rest against yours, exhaling out the last pieces of his resistance. “Tell me to let go of you, Y/N. Tell me to let go and I’ll wish you good night. I’ll drive home and I’ll never bother you again as anything other than your brother’s friend.”

The first kiss was experimental, your own eyes fluttering shut as you planted a peck against his jelly pink lips, unsure of if it was to shut him up or to just kiss him. It was enough to have his own eyes snap open, staring at you in disbelief. His lips stung, kissed by your poison and now needing the antidote. A couple of seconds felt like years, he had to regain his composure and kiss you. The second, third and fourth kiss were similar to the first, teasing pecks exchanged until San’s hand wound it’s way up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your bottom lip before he finally gave in to the carnal need, head tilting at the perfect angle and lips smashing against your own.

Your knees weakened under the weight of his kiss, head buzzing as he nipped at your lip, practically begging you to let his tongue in. The satisfied groan that left him as the kiss deepened had your mind spinning, wanting to do anything in your will power to illicit more noises from him. You’d kissed plenty of people in your life and they were all beginning to pale in comparison to him.

“Could you guys, like, move?”

You both shot apart in an instant, ashamedly staring at the girl who rolled her eyes and pushed her way through the doors, books in hand and an earphone occupying one ear. The electricity between you had gone out, the spark dead and leaving you both to bask in its wake. That same silence from the café returned and, standing no more than two steps away from you, San felt the distance between you both more than ever. He was fighting to apologise, claim it was the heat of the moment and he hadn’t been thinking straight. But he couldn’t lie to you like that. It’s all he’d been thinking about all night, many nights before too.

“Well, uhm, thanks again. Okay, bye.” You’d raced away from him, running from the tension and all the things you wanted to confess, leaving San to wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t been interrupted, if you were allowed to bring him up to your dorm.

There were times where even San questioned his decisions. Like now, waking up to a pounding in his head and the distinct memory of having thrown up in the back of his poor friend’s car. He mentally noted to send the guy some sort of apology gift, having turned what was meant to be their first night out together in months into his own personal pity party, leaving his tall friend- and his even taller friend- to have to clean up after San like he cleaned up after his two year old son.

The realization of how long he’d slept- the time on his phone reading that it was ten o’clock at night- had him falsely promise he’d never touch another drop of alcohol. In a zombified state, he pulled his aching body out of bed, groaning as he stumbled over his trousers from the night before. For a moment he thought he’d gone mad, a sudden laughter track ringing in the distance as if they were mocking him. The thought dawning on him that it was just Wooyoung watching something in the living room was definitely a relief.

Three stumbles, two rinses of his teeth and one sold out concert in his shower later, San stared into the mirror of his bathroom and saw something that resembled a human. Tying the string of his grey sweatpants and shrugging off the idea of a t-shirt, he made his way out into the living area, expecting to find his roommate spread across the couch only to be let down at the sign of emptiness. The television played on but Wooyoung was nowhere in sight.

A Jung-like scream pierced the air, causing San to jump back and let out his own, much quieter, scream.

“What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?! This is literally my apartment, what are you doing here?” San shot back at you in an instant. If his head weren’t ringing and he wasn’t so confused, he’d be thinking about how nice it was to see you, after two weeks of wondering if the arcade, and everything that came with and after it, had just been some lucid dream of his. That hurt less than the thought of you regretting the kiss.

“I was helping my brother organise our parents anniversary party,” you paused, eyes slowly moving down his body. The air felt colder upon remembering he was stood half naked in front of you. “but then he got a call from some girl and ran out, promising he’d be back in an hour tops. That was almost two hours ago.”

“Oh.” If there were an award for lamest thing said, San would be a strong contender. He crossed his arms over his chest, in an attempt to cover at least something, but it just drew more attention to the fact he was shirtless.

“Don’t worry, I was about to leave. I’ll be out your hair in a minute, I just need to grab something from Woo’s room.” The words enter one ear and leave through the other, not really translating properly in San’s brain until you’ve already pushed past him.

The panic settled in quickly from there, the overwhelming knowledge that he wasn’t ready to let you walk away this time hitting him like a train. You quickly emerged into his line of view once more, purse in hand, and the only thing he could think to do was to step in your way. When you attempted to move around him, his hand found it’s way to your wrist and all movement stopped between you both. It was silent, until another laughter track rang out. And then San was angry.

At you, at himself, at the fact you were both too cowardly to stop this cat and mouse game.

“So you’re just going to keep avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you!” Your reply was too quick, that guilty look dancing on your face. You sometimes forgot how well he knew you, how he’d seen that look on you before as you tried to convince your parents you hadn’t been the one to clog the toilet with “snacks for the toilet monster”.

“I called you a few days after. And again two days after that. You just magically missed both?” It was risky to ask. You were both students, with schedules and assignments through the roof, but San liked to believe he meant a little more to you than just an accident or a coincidence. Your silence told him everything he needed to know, hand letting go of you at last and stepping out your way. “Go then. Let’s just be strangers from here onward, since I can’t seem to win. If I’m your friend, you ignore me. If I’m your enemy, you hate me. If I try to be...” he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “then you ghost me. So, we’ll just not know each other from now on.”

“I can’t do this to my brother.” He hated you for remaining so unbothered, face emotionless as you stared him in the eyes while his own was fighting back a frown. It made him feel vulnerable and pathetic. “I’m selfish but not enough to risk the friendship that means more to him than most things.”

Your worries made sense, which only made his hatred worse.

“So you admit there is a this?” His pointer finger darted between you both.

“Yes? No... I don’t know, San!” Your resolve began to slip a little, exposing your feelings beneath the stoic mask. “You called Jongho a player but it feels like I’m being played by you. Nothing I feel for or about you should ever move past just this, friends. We both know that, yet you’re continuing to torture us. You’re the one who decided to play the knight in shinning armour, swooping in to help a damsel in distress! You’re the one who drove us to that arcade, who drove me home! You’re the one who kissed me!”

“You kissed me, Y/N.”

“Shut up!”

In any other circumstance, he would have laughed at your pathetic whine. He’d have thought about the many other ways he could get you let out the same noise, and then he’d wallow in the guilt of remembering Wooyoung was right next to him while he’d sat thinking of you committing sins with his naked body. “Make me.”

He didn’t expect you to actually do anything. It was an empty threat, a dare to do what you’d already made clear couldn’t happen between you two. One can only imagine the surprise on his face when your lips landed on his.

It was different to the last time, in front of your building. While that one had been all nervous breaths and smiles of relief and the euphoria of not being rejected, this one was filled with anger and desperation and your cold hands on San’s warm skin. When his hands drifted down your spine all the way to your thighs, it was instinct that drove you into wrapping your legs around him, lips glued separating only for a moment as you stared down at him from the new position.

You both could have stopped, should’ve stopped. But San was too far gone to think rationally, to think about all the things he should and shouldn’t do. Again, he’d never been good at denying himself from indulging in what he wanted. And he wanted you, a fact which he stated against your mouth.

“I want you too.” It was all the go ahead he needed, lips trailing over your jaw and making their way down to your neck. When his lips latched onto a certain spot, sucking gently between kitten licks, a moan escaped you and he swore he almost dropped you in shock.

A couple seconds later, and the desire to make you moan as many times as possible, San found the will power to pull his lips off of you and concentrate on getting you both to the closest seating area. He dropped himself down onto the couch and adjusted you on his lap, the tent in his sweatpants becoming more obvious by the minute. The giggle you let out had his intentions pausing, his lips shooting up to kiss the tip of your nose and his dimples appeared alongside the smile he shot at you.

You rolled your hips against him, barely dragging your clothed self over his hardened member, and San shot back into action, face buried in your neck and a hand on your hip, guiding you over his thigh while his other wandered under the hem of your t-shirt, dragging the fabric up and off with your help. Like every other inch of you, San found the sight of your breasts beautiful, held perfectly in the red lace that was straining against your hardening nipples. When the fabric slipped off, your own hands having reached back to unclasp it, San nearly told you to leave it on, loving the way the delicate fabric decorated your body. It took one proper look at you naked from the waist up, grinding against his thigh with your lips parted for him to realise he much preferred you with no bra. He nestled his face between your breasts, eyes shut as he inhaled and centred himself in the moment.

He hated how he wasn't the first to trace your skin. How his were not the first lips to latch themselves on to your neck. How he wouldn't be the first man who'd attempted to put his feelings of love for you into actions of lust. And it was so fucking wrong, so toxic of him to think like that. Because you were so much more than the people you'd been with, so much more than the lips you'd kissed. But as his lips latched on to your taut nipple and his hand inched further up your flimsy skirt, San couldn't seem to find the part of him that gave a shit about what was wrong or right.

There was only you, you, you. You with your sweet smiles and your pretty outfits, with your witty words and your beautiful puzzle of a brain. And your damp panties.

“San.” He thought of how he might just explode at the way his name sounded on your abused lips, not even above a whisper but it sent his mind down a spiral of ways he could get you to say it again, maybe louder than last time. His hand finally pushed your underwear to the side and touched you. And, fuck, you were practically pulsating with want. San fought every urge in his body to just fuck you like this: in the middle of his living room, your legs straddling his own, panties pushed aside and your skirt fluttering upwards each time he bounced you on his cock. But no, there was no way he'd risk putting you both in that position of being caught by your own brother and his best friend. Besides, San wanted to drink you in, savour you, take things as slow as you both could handle because it could easily be the first of many times for you both, or it could be a one time mistake that would drive you away from him forever. Though the idea of living without you sounded painful, so did the idea of going back to before this moment, to not knowing where he stood in your life and you in his.

“Shit,” He groaned out, his middle finger slipping in to you. The way your walls squeezed against his digit was enough to knock the wind out of his lungs. He couldn’t wait to stuff you full to the brim, whether you were under him or above him. He just wanted to be sheathed balls deep in you. “say my name again.”

“Make me.” You spat his earlier words back at him, a daring look in your eyes. It was enough to encourage him to slip in a second digit, slowly beginning to fuck you on his fingers.

“If you insist, princess.” He laughed as your walls clamped down on him. “I knew you got turned on by me calling you that. Cute.”

“Don’t call me cute,” Your sentence broke off in a moan, San’s thumb ghosting over your clit as his fingers worked you up. “when you’re fucking me with your hand, loser.”

“Then don’t call me loser.”

You’d began to grind down on his hand, hips meeting each pump of his fingers and lips whining at each stroke of him thumb on your clit. San was about ready to cum untouched in his pants just from watching you. You clamped down on his fingers a few moments after he’d introduced a third one into you, your orgasm washing over you without a single warning and soaking your panties, along with San’s hand, beyond repair.

Whilst you worked at calming your breathing down, San brought the hand coated in your slick up to his mouth. The sweetness of you on his tongue had his eyes rolling back, a satisfied noise escaping his chest. “Taste even better than I thought, pretty girl.”

“You thought about that? Pervert.” You leaned down, lips pressing against his own gently and he was sent back to the night outside your dorms, the soft hesitancy in both your actions bringing his heartbeat to a halt.

“Don’t act like you’ve not thought about my dick, I saw the way you checked me out earlier.”

Your hand trailed down his torso teasingly, stopping at the hem of his sweatpants as you stared into his eyes, lip caught between your teeth. “And if I have thought about it, then what? You gonna let me see it?”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” He’d already moved to the edge of the couch, hands reaching to grip you properly and securely against him before he stood up again, sight set on getting you both to his bedroom.

“Deal.”

The many fantasies of seeing you splayed out on his bed, staring at him with your cheeks flushed as his teeth pulled your panties down were nothing compared to the reality of it. His hands pulled them off the rest of the way, lips delving down to pepper kisses along your thighs. Your scent was so strong, so close, he could almost taste you on his tongue. Which he did, muscle darting out to lick up your slit.

“Are you going to keep teasing us both or are you gonna get your stupid cock out and fuck me?” He chuckled against you, nose bumping against your clit and sending a jolt up your spine.

“So impatient and dirty-mouthed. Maybe you need to be taught a lesson in patience.” He tutted, lips back on your thighs.

“San, I swear to god, I’ll leave and find someone else to get me off!”

“Alright, alright, calm down.” Though he laughed, there was a spark of jealousy and a rush of worry. There was no way in hell he’d have let you go find someone to take his place. He rose from between your legs, tumbling off the bed and practically ripping the drawer next to his bed open, grabbing one of the silver foiled packets. Turning too quickly, his foot collided with the corner of the unit and his leg shot up in pain, curses leaving him all the while he shuffled back over to the bed.

“Did you just stub your baby toe?” You laughed from where you lay, breasts bouncing with the sounds you emitted.

“Oh, shut up and go back to begging me to fuck you.” He settled himself on top of you, eyes rolling as he nestled himself in your neck. You smelled like cherries, and cotton candy dreams, and sweat born from desire. His cock brushed against your folds, your wetness lubricating him as San exhaled. “Tell me you want me.”

His need for your approval had the heat pooling in your abdomen worsening, a rush of pleasure shooting through your veins at San’s begging to be wanted. And not just by anyone, but by you. Hooking a leg over his naked hip, you hadn’t even noticed when he’d discarded the last of his clothing but you’re glad he had. Everything about him was a work of art, his golden skin scattered with moles all over, smooth to touch and warmth radiating off of him. You almost lost yourself in the moment, till you heard him repeat his pleads, needing to hear your consent before he opened the condom and got to work.

“I do.” You weren’t expecting the whisper that left you, lips planting themselves on his cheek. “Want you so bad, San.”

“Me too,” He was entranced, a smile worth a thousand words creeping onto his lips as he pulled back from your neck. The ripping of the foil packet rang out and you watched him roll the rubber over his member, pumping himself a couple times to relieve some of his tension, head thrown back and neck exposed as he struggled to keep his cool. “wanted you for so long, Y/N.”

“You have me.”

The burn of the initial stretch became meaningless when San apologised through kissing you over and over, nestling his cock deeper each time till it was hard to tell where he ended and you began. Your pleasured moans spurred him on, hips colliding against your own increasingly faster.

“How’re you so tight?” Was the first sentence he managed to verbalise, groans and whimpers otherwise playing through the whole room. “Did that Jongho kid not fuck you properly?”

He dodged the pillow thrown his way, arm scooping beneath you to roll you over and into his lap, sitting you on his member while his mouth went straight for your breasts, your hands tangling in his hair for some leverage. “Nice to know you’re also annoying in bed.”

“You love it.” He mumbled, tongue swiping over a nipple and a hand reaching between you both, fingers pressing on your clit only for him to giggle at the way your eyes shut and you squeezed around his cock.

“Not as much as you’ll love this.” Your hands pressed on to his chest, gently shoving him back down onto the mattress and forcing him to peer up at you through hooded eyes, hands gripping your thighs as you began to roll your hips, the tip of him brushing over your sweet spot over and over.

“Keep doing that and I’m gonna cum, princess.” He hissed, teeth clenched when you returned to bouncing yourself on his member, breasts bouncing along with you and a hand on his abdomen.

“Isn’t that the whole point of this, genius?” The slap against your thigh had you squealing and the hand beginning to control your movements had you seeing stars, pushing you down to perfectly meet each time San’s hips thrusted up from the bed.

When he reached utopia, a cry of your name bursting forward at the same time he fucked his cum into the condom, you came crashing down on to him, your own orgasm hitting you with such force your legs shook and your mind went blank, coming to only once you felt a dampness between your legs and saw San, having rid himself of the condom, cleaning your own mess up, lips plating a kiss against the side of your knee. He tossed the towel somewhere into the dark room, pulling the sheets back and pulling you under with him, head settling onto your chest and a relaxed sigh coming from him.

Time passed, you weren’t exactly sure how long exactly, and silence, comfortable and welcomed, settled in the air. The sound of his breathing and the warmth of his protective hold around you dragging you into unconsciousness, teetering on the edge of falling asleep. But San had to go and speak, thinking you were off in dreamland, and unknowingly ruin it all.

“I love you.”

San was glad he'd gotten the morning shift, seeing how the café was quickly filling with the usual afternoon rush hour, students and business people alike eager for a taste of caffeine during their break. His hands messily undone the tie of his apron, dumping it in to his bag before he slug it over his shoulder, waving at one of his co-workers. His feet carried him back out to the counter, where Wooyoung was smiling cheekily at a group of younger customers. He’d been extra energetic all day, the knowledge that he’d finally handed in his resignation letter and the prospect of his new position working in a real restaurant tinting the blonde haired boy’s world in rose coloured hues of red.

As for himself, life had been grey. Dull and boring, with flashes of red hot anger aimed at no one and everyone all at once. Waking up to an empty bed had been his routine for so many years, however, when he came to and found himself alone in his room that morning, no trace of you other than your scent on his sheets, it had shattered him. After the heartbreak came the hatred. Now, it had been three weeks and there’d been no sign of you.

San told himself it was better that way.

He held the door to the café open for a couple of local girls he recognised from the campus opposite from his own, flashing a polite smile as they skirted past him. The smile dropped from his face when he caught a bit of their conversation.

“...Jongho’s still going after her, from what I’ve heard. Apparently Sua spotted them getting handsy at the last Cix house party, though Y/N denied it when I asked about it.”

He’d gotten in his car with the intention of going home. He needed a warm shower and a drink. He needed a distraction, anything to not think of you pressed up against the stupid red haired boy who’d sent you running into San’s arms just to snatch you back. Perhaps you two deserved each other, a match made in hell. When he’d started heading towards your campus, he didn’t realise. Not until he spotted you, stood at the curb of the parking lot, in some sort of heated discussion with Choi Jongho.

San hated you for looking beautiful even in a pair of stained jeans and a worn-out hoodie.

“I really don’t need a ride, it’s fine. I’ll get the bus.” You seemed exhausted, your back turned to San and not noticing how he’d pulled up next to you both, making his way out of the car.

“I told you I was sorry, Y/N. Things came up, I didn’t mean to leave you hanging.” Jongho sounded anything but apologetic, and his burst lip and bruised knuckles done nothing to ease San’s discomfort. “Now will you please just let me take you home? Or anywhere else?”

San intervened at last, not liking the way Jongho had stepped closer to you. He cleared his throat, catching both of your attentions but he stared right past you, eyes on the now black haired male. “She’s got a ride already, don’t worry.”

If Jongho protested, San didn’t stick around long enough to hear it, grabbing onto your wrist. It wasn’t gentle like the other times, his nails digging crescents into your skin before you snatched it out his grasp, disbelief on your face at the fact he’d shown up out of nowhere and was playing the role of your saviour, yet again.

The drive back was awful, to say the most. There was no music, no stolen glances and no shared smiles. Only silence and the hum of his engine. Your eyes were glued on the outside world, past the window of the car, and his were on the road, chest slowly rising with each scarily calm breath he took. It felt like sitting next to a ticking timebomb, waiting to explode when the timer ran out. Nothing happened though, San simply pulling the vehicle to a halt outside your dorm building and waiting in silence for you to leave.

You almost wished he’d yell at you, tell you he hated you. You certainly preferred that over this. Your hands opened the car door, and the cold air from outside warmed you up more than the freezing atmosphere of the car.

“You know,” San whispered but you heard him, hand freezing on the door, your back turned to him and one foot out the car. “I didn’t think you’d actually pick to be strangers.”

What could you say to that? What could you possibly say to explain why you’d left, when you still didn’t know yourself? The anxious feeling had been too overwhelming in the pit of your stomach, forcing your fight or flight response. Clearly, you’d gone for the second option, sneaking out of the apartment in the early hours of the morning and breaking both your hearts in the process.

So you got out the car and done what you did best: walked away.

He always liked the way love songs sounded through the speakers of the radio.

There was a charm to it, the way the sound travelled through the air, kissing the atmosphere and warming even the coldest of hearts. It invited romance in with open arms, daring the universe to bring love into the listener’s life.

For the first time in his life, San groaned and shut the radio off, sick of all the songs about love.

“Yeah, yeah. We fucking get it, it started with a whisper...” He grumbled out in response to the song that had just started, sighing in the peace and quiet of the empty café. He’d just about finished cleaning up for the night, the only thing left to do being to check the register and lock it all up.

Two nights had passed since he’d dropped you home and now even his car was infected with the smell of cherries, dancing past his nostrils each time he inhaled. But the hatred had dissipated, leaving only pain in it’s path. He wasn’t angry at you for not wanting him the same way. That would be selfish of him. He was just hurting from the way you’d pierced his heart with your claws and ripped it out his chest, running off with it into the night.

He’d get over it, with time and a lot of rebounding. Maybe a little bit of praying to a deity he didn’t even really believe in. The most important factor was that it had all come crashing down before Wooyoung even knew something was happening.

San could at least keep one Jung by his side.

The bell above the door rang out as San finished counting the register, snapping it shut just in time to greet Wooyoung with a scowl. “Took you long enough, dude. Thought you said you’d have my car back by noon and it’s now-”

You stared back at him from the doorway.

San rubbed at his eyes, wondering if all those late nights were getting to him and causing hallucinations. You and your burgundy nails were still there when he removed his hands. “Wooyoung’s not here, sorry.”

“That’s okay.” You squirmed under the weight of his stare, swallowing the lump in your throat when he steps out from behind the counter. It was criminal, you thought, for someone to look so good in black jeans and a button up shirt. “I didn’t come here to see him.”

“Then why are you here, Y/N?” He bit back the temptation to ask if Jongho had once again stood you up, leaving you running in desperation for comfort. But it felt mean and he wasn’t sure he wanted to push you away. He didn’t exactly want to pull you closer either. Still, he found himself copying you when you took a step closer.

“I don’t know.” It was disappointingly simple. He wanted a reason behind your appearance, wanted you to give him the incentive to ask you to leave. Not just the café but his life in general. Because keeping him around just to string him along was becoming exhausting.

Sure, he was willing to chase you to hell and back. But where was he supposed to run to when you disappeared along the trail, nowhere in sight and a linger of your shampoo in the air?

There was a time, summers past now, when both your families had gone on holiday together, off to some pension house down by the sea. San remembered how he’d woken up and found you sat out on the front porch, staring up at the skies. It was the first time he’d ever looked at you. Not as Wooyoung’s little sister but as you, Y/N. He hadn’t understood at that time, why exactly his palms were sweating when he sat down next to you or why he wanted to sulk when you confessed to the crush you had on your brother’s other friend, Kang Yeosang. But when you let your hand take a hold of his own, both quietly staring up at the starry sky, he knew exactly why his heart felt all fuzzy. He’d been seventeen back then and anything seemed possible.

Now an adult, the fuzz in his heart was becoming daggers, piercing his fragile self. He wasn’t sure he could rely any longer on the hope that you’d someday want him back.

“Well, I was just closing.” He wanted you to leave, to stay, to do something other than stare across at him. You stayed silent and San felt he had to speak again, to stop himself from saying what he actually wanted to say. “Wooyoung’s on his way, if you want to wait for him.”

“I don’t want to wait for him.” You’d gotten closer and, one moment of weakness was all it would take for San to have his arms around you. “I just wanted a hug.”

The weakness fought against San’s resilience but he wasn’t moving. He wasn’t crossing the threshold, tired of being the one always having to cross the bridges you put up. He didn’t have to this time, luckily, because you reached forward and wrapped your arms around him, head falling against him and arms holding him to you. He let his instincts take over, enveloping you in his embrace, eyes closing to bask in the way your warmth rolled over him.

“I don’t want to be strangers, San.” He felt the hum of your voice, pulling back only when he felt you do the same. “I heard what you said... And I screwed up. I’m sorry. It just hit me all of a sudden and I didn’t know how to cope with it. I love you too, I’m sorry you had to wait to hear that.”

His silence was unnerving, each second that passed of him just staring down at you, no readable expression on his face, felt like an infinity. “You’re lucky you’re worth the chase, princess.” For the first time, he initiated the kiss between you both. There was no rush, no urgency to have one another pressed together, no desperation. It was the feeling of completion, at last, lips melting together and hands tangling around one another. When San pulled back, his lips were glistening red, inviting you to steal another kiss, so you did. “Wooyoung is going to kill me, isn’t he?”

You both jumped apart at a familiar voice ringing out from the doorway. “You have about exactly four seconds to run, Choi.”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

#ateez smut #choi san smut #ateez oneshot #choi san oneshot #ateez series #choi san series #ateez x reader #choi san x reader

1K notes · View notes

pinkiee · 2 years

Text

𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘𝖘’𝖘 𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖕𝖊

synopsis: ___ was trapped in an arranged marriage with Choi San, the crowned prince of wonderland and her step-sister’s lover. How will she find happiness? How will she escape?

pairing: thief!yunho x fem!reader

themes: royal au, angst, romance, kidnapping, horrible parents, tba

wc: 238 words

warnings: this is in no way representing anyone’s personalities. This is simply a work of fiction. ENJOY!!

character info:

Choi San

only child of the current rulers

arranged marriage with _____ since young

1 year older than ____

ignorant

self-absorbed

heir to the throne of wonderland

Choi Jongho

same age as ____

nicer brother

loyal

stronger than San in terms of physicality and academics

very close with Lee siblings as well

well-liked among the people of wonderland

disliked by Mrs Lee/Goo (____’s step-mom)

he would’ve been the best suited to be the next crowned prince if he wasn’t younger

Lee ______

father is the royal advisor of the king

mother passed away when she was 3

has a younger step-sister (Harin) and an older biological sister

very nice and caring

optimistic

shy

Lee Chaeryeong

___’s older sister

close relation with ____

hates step-mother and step-sister (Harin)

head strong

independent

1 year older than _____ (same age as San)

also in an arranged marriage with another kingdom’s youngest prince, Hyunjin

Note: this is not a ship, I could only think of Hyunjin in this situation.

Goo Harin

spoiled

mean

hates Chaeryeong and ____

2 years younger than ____ (3 years younger than San)

narcist

selfish

Mr Lee (____ and Chaeryeong’s biological father)

very nice man

very caring father

cares a lot about his family

Shen Xiaoting

____ and Chaeryeong’s childhood best friend

neighboring kingdom’s oldest, Aurora

also very independent

1 year older than Chaeryeong (2 years older than ____)

has very nice parents

Jeong Yunho

most wanted thief of wonderland

more information: unknown

please let me know if I’m missing anything

masterlist

#ateez yunho #jeong yunho #choi san #ateez san #ateez royal au #royal au #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez x reader #choi jongho #jongho #ateez jongho #yunho x reader

18 notes · View notes

stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 2 years

Text

Major Updates (9/11)

Main Masterlist

Removed all NCT content and moved it to a new [NCT Masterlist]

Renamed to 'Other Groups Masterlist'

Added to ATEEZ:

*⚲ Once More, in Harmony | {Idol AU, Soulmate AU} (Choi Jongho x Reader) [F] | In which you can hear your soulmate whenever they sing.

Added to TXT:

*⚲ From Black Coffee to Strawberry Tea | {No Specified AU} (Choi Yeonjun x Reader ft. Jaemin) [A, F] | In which you used to date Jaemin and have since moved on to Yeonjun

NCT Masterlist

Moved all NCT content from [Main Masterlist] here, mostly because there's actually a text block limit that I miraculously reached so here's me separating things lol

Added to NCT Dream

♀︎ Blurb - Soft!Yandere!Jaemin Things | {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin x Reader) [F/D]

♀︎ Blurb - More Yandere!Jaemin Things| {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin x Reader) [F/D]

♀︎ Scenario - Slow Dancing with Yandere!Jaemin | {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin x Reader) [F]

*⚲ Break(ing) | {University AU} (Renjun x Reader) [F] | In which you and Renjun are top of the class and he's stressing over finals and you're not.

Added to NCT U:

♀︎ Reaction - The Infatuation Boys React to You Breaking Up With Them | {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin, Jungwoo, Sungchan, Johnny) [A/D]

♀︎ ^Part 2 | {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin, Jungwoo, Sungchan, Johnny) [A/D]

♀︎ Reactions - The Infatuation boys react to being your first | {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin, Jungwoo, Sungchan, Johnny) [S/F]

♀︎Headcanons - With their Kids | {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin, Jungwoo, Sungchan, Johnny, Renjun) [F]

Added to WayV:

*⚲ In My Shoes | {Soulmate AU} (Hendery x Reader) [F, C] | In which you switch bodies with your soulmate for a day

*⚲ Code Heart Breaker | {Hacker AU} (Hendery x Reader) [F, C] | In which Hendery asks you to watch over a game he's playing with his friends for a moment

Prominence Masterlist

Not much of a change but turns out there's a 4,096 word limit per text box so I kinda broke up the masterlist into sections of 25

Added:

*WCh. 2.60 | 220224 (Y/N) has a crisis

*WCh. 2.61 | 220225 Seonghwa Reflects (lol)

*WCh. 2.62 | 220225 Jeno and (Y/N) hang out

*Pt. 2.63 | 220225 Twitter Drama following the previous chapter

*WCh. 2.64 | 220224 Some new characters you will want to know

*WCh. 2.65 | 220225 (Y/N) goes to her aunt's restaurant and meets an unlikely person there

Also updated the [Chronological Order Masterlist] accordingly

Fixed the [S2 Extras Masterlist] to accommodate the new word limit by breaking bullet points into 10s

Added two new sections to the [S2 Extras Masterlist], The Jung Siblings and Tiktok Ideas

Added to General Section

*(Y/N)'s Insta Story about Rain Day

*More random YNSH content

*Jihyun definitely drives manual

*(Y/N) and Sungchan being the OG besties

*(Y/N) is really good at building lego sets

*(Y/N) doing Yangyang dirty as usual

*ANiMA's Sanrio Collab Characters

*Random YNSH things

*NCT Content during 2021 promotions, Stage: Inception

*NCT Life drabbles lol

*(Y/N) 100% carried NCT in ISAC

*ATEEZ vs. NCT 'Who Knows (Y/N) Better Quiz'

*ANiMA on NCT 2.0

*(Y/N) has sort of become her own character aside from a reader insert | [Pt. 1] | [Pt. 2]

*(Y/N)'s next scandal would be her teenage dirtbag photos

*Prominence and La La Land

*AWSAZ but it's (Y/N) and Kun

*What if ATEEZ won a MAMA award and (Y/N) presented it?

*Prominence AITA

*NCThree live where Yangyang learns what fake lashes are

*KCon NCThree vs. 3Racha

*(Y/N) catches a cold and NCThree go live anyway

*Jihyun had piercings predebut | [Pt. 2]

*Does (Y/N) smoke?

*Mark and the Spider-Mark Shirt

*(Y/N) Naming her instagram lives

*NCThree Resonance Era

*NCThree in an Escape Room

*NCThree in Midsummer Night Dream Content?

*Let's Play Ball Unit

Added to Jung Siblings Section

*The Jung Brothers' Sexualities: [Pt. 1] | [Pt. 2]

*(Y/N) is practically begging you all to take her brothers

*Hamin is a disappointing dater and Kanghoon is husband of the year

*The Siblings' Dating Lives

*Hamin has a pollen allergy

*Where have (Y/N)'s parents been this whole time?

*Hamin's Gamer Tag

Added to Tiktok Section

(Y/N) and Yangyang have definitely done the "No little German boy!" trend on TikTok

NCThree Tiktoks: ['Feel my Rhthym'] | ['Love Theory'] | ['Gyaru'] | [The 'Tortilla Slap' Challenge]

(Y/N)'s reaction to that tiktok

*(Y/N) would clown Yangyang and Mark with this tiktok

*(Y/N) and Yangyang at the arcade lmao

*(Y/N) has definitely fallen for the famous Jeno edit

*'What is Going On in the House of Commons?'

#important #crys updates

14 notes · View notes

pixieminutes · 4 years

Text

Uncertain | KHJ

genre: angst, fluff, mafia!au

members: kim hongjoong x reader, brother!jung wooyoung, choi jongho, park seonghwa, jeong yunho

warnings: swearing, walking out

5th July, 2018

“i’m y/n,” you smiled.

“and she is my sister! which means that if any of you lay a hand on her–” wooyoung pulled his gun out of his pocket and smiled sweetly, “there we go.”

you laughed slightly, only hitting him when you saw he’d put the gun fully back into his pocket.

“and why is she here?” a man asked.

he had a mullet, dyed light brown and his ears were full of earrings.

“that’s hongjoong,” wooyoung whispered, “our leader.”

hongjoong raised his eyebrows at wooyoung expectantly and your brother coughed, spluttering his words out.

“well– she– i– you know,” wooyoung took a deep breath, “she’s here because i don’t want her to stay with our parents. if any of you had little siblings, you’d do the same, right?”

“wrong,” jongho said, “it’s actually my little siblings who are the evil ones. if i could get my parents away, i would. but, they won’t leave.”

wooyoung rolled his eyes, “except you.”

hongjoong sighed, “she can stay. she can eat breakfast, lunch and dinner with us. we have a room on the top floor and remind her she doesn’t need to clean any rooms.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, scoffing at hongjoong, “you know i’m right here, don’t you?”

wooyoung widened his eyes, beginning to drag you away by your shoulders, “ah, she’s joking hong—”

“no, it’s okay,” hongjoong chuckled, walking over so he was only centimetres away from your face, “she’s brave. i like it.”

“i’m not brave, i’m just calling you out,” you scoffed, “and sorry but, where’s my room? i kinda need a nap right now.”

hongjoong scoffed, nodding his head, grabbing your arm gently, “come with me.”

“i meant it hongjoong!” wooyoung called after the two of you.

hongjoong pulled the gun out of his pocket, not taking his attention off of your conversation.

wooyoung just rolled his eyes.

9th February, 2020

“where are you going?” you called.

hongjoong turned back to you, smiling sweetly with no meaning, “i’m going to get ice cream and frolick in the park.”

you rolled your eyes, sighing, “i was just asking.”

“i’m going out.”

“yes, but where?” you pushed.

“does it matter to you?!” hongjoong exclaimed, “jesus christ, can i not even leave without you bugging me?!”

you looked back to the clock in the kitchen, 19:14.

“fine,” you laughed dryly, “go. i won’t stay up.”

“no one asked you to.”

“be safe!” you called, “wherever the fuck you’re going.”

only three months after you’d moved in with ateez, you and hongjoong had made moves to take you far beyond just friends, despite wooyoung’s words. who was wooyoung to fight, though? his gang’s leader dating his sister was only to end in good things for him, especially with how much joy you brought to hongjoong.

brought. past tense.

since then, just under two years had passed and it had somewhat changed.

the hard, mafia leader hongjoong, who you managed to melt away until he was simply your boyfriend, had somehow bounced back.

now? you laid in bed alone, cold, and, underlining everything; lonely.

12th February, 2020

“where’s wooyoung?” hongjoong asked.

the six other members looked at each other, slight shrugs and shakes of their heads going between them before hongjoong shouted out, groaning loudly.

“where the fuck is that boy?!” he yelled, “i’ve had it with the jung family!”

“i’m here! hongjoong! i’m here! sorry!” wooyoung exclaimed, running in the room and sitting in his spot beside jongho.

“explanation?” hongjoong said simply, raising one eyebrow as he looked to the panting boy.

“there was a girl in my bed this morning,” wooyoung said, still trying to get his breath back, “it was not easy to explain why i had to go.”

hongjoong laughed cruely, “there was a girl in my bed this morning too. your sister. and just because your sister is in my bed, does not mean you get to fucking slack! do you understand?”

hongjoong’s voice was quiet, but exasperated, and it sent shivers down all the boys’ spines.

wooyoung nodded, gravely, “yes, hongjoong.”

“good,” he spat, “then we’ll continue.”

“what did you mean you’ve had it with the jung family?” seonghwa asked, “everything okay?”

“being particularly nosey, are we seonghwa?” hongjoong sighed.

seonghwa rolled his eyes, “no! i’m fucking worried about you, man! i don’t want your girl at home to be unsatisfying. that’s the worst thing a mafia leader could deal with.”

hongjoong scoffed, “it is, isn’t it?”

seonghwa laughed and nudged hongjoong’s shoulder, “so? care to tell me?”

“she’s just so fucking annoying,” hongjoong cried, “she’s so clingy and she always wants to cuddle?! like literally a couple weeks ago she came and climbed on my lap while i was working so we could cuddle. while i was working!”

seonghwa grimaced, “god. have you told her?”

“no. i’m trying to be a dick so i can let her down slowly. make her not want me until we’re at a mutual place.”

seonghwa nodded, the plan was cruel, but probably the best one a mafia leader could have come up with.

“what about wooyoung?” seonghwa asked.

“what about him?”

“well doesn’t it become a bit fucking awkward after you’ve hit it and quit it with his sister?”

hongjoong rolled his eyes, scoffing, “if he has a problem with it, he can leave. i’ll give her enough money to buy her own place, so she’ll be fine.”

seonghwa gasped, “wow! really? god, hongjoong, you’re so kind! i should be more like you.”

hongjoong smiled, “i try.”

27th February, 2020

“hongjoong,” you whined, leaving the warmth and comfort of your bed, seeing your boyfriend still sat at his desk, “why aren’t you in bed?”

“unlike some of us, i have to work, y/n,” hongjoong spat.

you pouted, “you stressed? you sound it. hold on, i’ll make you a warm drink.”

hongjoong went to protest, but you had already left the room. he sighed, he didn’t want a fucking hot drink, he wanted to be left alone.

you hummed as you made the chai tea, a special recipe you’d concocted yourself. using milk and spices and tea, it filled the house with a comforting smell and warmed you up to no end.

you put a couple of the egg tarts you’d made the previous day on a plate and poured the tea into a mug, walking back into hongjoong’s office and setting them beside him.

“it’s late you know,” you sighed.

hongjoong gritted his teeth, looking up at you with a piercing look.

you seemed oblivious, looking curiously round his office, you’d never stayed in here for long.

“i know you know that, though,” you chuckled, “i’m going back to bed, okay? don’t be too long.”

you approached your boyfriend, the man almost ready to burst at any second until you placed the tiniest kiss on his temple, leaving the room again, hongjoong hearing your bare feet pad up the stairs.

he looked at the plate and cup in front of him, taking a sip from the tea, a slight smile raised his lips. it reminded him of you, though he wasn’t sure why.

he sighed, leaning forward and taking a bite of the egg tart, “thank you.”

6th March, 2020

you sighed, watching your boyfriend leave again, for the fourth time that week.

picking up your phone, you pressed your brother’s contect, holding it to your ear as you walked upstairs to find the little belongings that belonged solely to you.

“what’s up!” wooyoung laughed, “i miss you, y/n.”

you sighed, “yeah, well you might be seeing me sooner than you think.”

“huh?” wooyoung asked, panic laced in his voiced, “w-what do you mean?”

a tear fell from your eye as you packed only the clothes you owned previous to knowing hongjoong, looking around your shared bedroom.

“i can’t do it,” you said, your voice shaky as you shook your head, “god, woo, i can’t— it’s like he doesn’t even know i’m here. i’m more like his maid. just for cooking and cleaning and fucking whenever he pleases.”

wooyoung sighed, unable to think of any words to say.

“every time i try and help him, i just have no reply,” you said, “i can’t do it anymore. i can’t help him. i actually think he might be heartless.”

“are you going to come here?” wooyoung asked.

he sounded fed-up, and just that thought alone made your heart sink. you felt bad. you felt so bad. but being with woo, it was just going to be better than ever being with hongjoong. you weren’t stupid.

“if that’s okay,” you said with a sigh, “i’ll find somewhere else as soon as possible.”

“it’s fine, y/n,” wooyoung said, “you coming now?”

“yeah,” you nodded, “yeah, i just need to write a note. i’m sorry if this gets you in any kind of—”

“don’t,” wooyoung said, “it’s fine. it’ll be awkward but, as long as i don’t do anything, he won’t.”

you nodded, “well. i’ll see you in a bit.”

wooyoung hummed, quickly hanging up.

you sighed, heading down to the kitchen, pulling the bag with you. you poured out a cup of homemade chai tea and the last remaining egg tart from the most recent batch. you quickly scribbled a note and left it underneath.

“ah!” you exclaimed, turning back only seconds after you began to leave, picking up the pen, “p.s. microwave the tea for 1 minute 40 seconds. that’s how you like it. y/n.”

you sighed, finally stepping out the front door once and for all. this was it. no regrets.

“i’m home,” hongjoong sighed, knowing that with the time on the clock you’d already have gone to bed.

he walked into the kitchen, scoffing as he saw the tea and the tart.

“what’s this?” he muttered, ripping the note out from underneath the plate, grabbing the tart as well so he could eat as he read.

hi hongjoong. welcome home i guess.

when you go upstairs, don’t expect to find me. i love you joong, i really do, but i can’t do this anymore. i try to love and care for you but all you do is push me further away.

maybe that was your plan. you’re just cruel like that, aren’t you? i should have expected it really, dating a mafia leader. still. i thought you’d changed. i guess not.

thanks for a happy two years hongjoong. i love you.

- y/n

p.s. microwave the tea for 1 minute 40 seconds. that’s how you like it - y/n

hongjoong dropped the note, looking to the tea and the tart in front of him. this was what he wanted. this is what he was trying to do, but now he wasn’t sure.

he rushed upstairs, going into the bedroom where, sure enough, you weren’t.

on every normal day he’d come home, he’d walk into the bedroom, switch the light on, switch it off when he realised you were asleep, shake your snow globe and kiss you once before going downstairs to continue work.

now, however, he could turn the light on, artificially brightening the room, and not have to turn it back off. you weren’t there.

he turned to look at the snow globe, one you’d bought when hongjoong took you to disneyland for your 100 day anniversary. it wasn’t there.

hongjoong walked downstairs limply, no thoughts running through his head as he came back in the kitchen, placing the tea in the microwave for 1 minute and 40 seconds, slowly eating the egg tart as he waited and thought.

this is what he wanted. he’d planned it all out in his head. but now it had happened, now his plan had worked and you had gone. was this really it?

...maybe that was your plan. you’re just cruel like that, aren’t you?

hongjoong swore as he crouched down, holding his face in his hands. yes, he was cruel. he was so, so cruel and now he was left to suffer in the aftermath by himself. alone.

15th March, 2020

“morning,” wooyoung said, a slight smile as he handed you a cup of coffee, “how you feeling?”

you sighed, your eyes filling with tears as you looked back on the situations of the past week. although you were the one who walked out, and he was the one who did wrong, a small part of you couldn’t help but want him to come and find you.

“not well, huh?” your brother said, patting your head slightly, “it’s okay. heartbreak sucks.”

“like you’d know!” you exclaimed.

“what’s that supposed to mean!” wooyoung shouted.

“ya! don’t shout at me!” you shouted.

“you’re doing it to me too!”

“um, guys?” yunho said, knocking at the door slightly, “y/n, there’s someone here for you.”

“for me?” you asked, getting out of bed, a confused look on your face, “well i guess i did tell nari about the situation.”

yunho shook his head, “it’s not nari. just go. i think you’ll be glad.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, watching as he walked away, before making your own way to the front door.

“hello?” you asked, seeing no one there.

you poked your head round, and saw a figure sat on the swinging chair outside. a figure you know all too well.

“y/n,” he said, “ca– can we talk? for a bit?”

you sighed, pushing the door closed behind you and walking to sit next to him.

“i guess you got my note,” you said.

hongjoong sighed, nodding, “yeah.”

it fell silent, as you saw hongjoong fiddle with his fingers and take several deep breaths, as though he was trying to psych himself up.

“i– i—” hongjoong stuttered, before sighing and trying again, “i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry, y/n, you have no idea.”

your eyes filled with tears again as you looked forward, trying not to let him see.

“truthfully, i did think it would be better for you to leave but then you did leave and now i don’t know why!” he said, sniffling slightly and as you turned, you could see he was wiping away a couple tears secretly, “i’m an idiot. i know i am.”

you chuckled humourlessly, staring down at both of your feet. hongjoong was wearing his doc martens, you: your inside slippers.

“and i understand what i’ve done, so i understand if you wouldn’t take me back,” hongjoong said, nodding solemly as your eyes went to his face, watching for his expression, “but it’s been over a week now. it’s been eight days. and i have done zero work because every day i get home and i cry so hard because you’re not there. and every little thing that i didn’t want you to do before– i– i miss it so much.”

a tear fell down his face and you wiped it away, giving up on trying to control your own.

“i want you to come and make me tea and pastries and i want you to come and sit on my lap while i work and i want you to cuddle me when we’re asleep and i want you to clean me up after i’ve got wounds from a mission. i want it all! i want you.”

you sighed, “you didn’t like it before.”

hongjoong sniffled, tucking some hair behind your ear, “i did. god, i did. but after that defeat from stray kids, i felt inferior and so– so i brought the mafia leader image home as well. i wasn’t being kim hongjoong with you. but i am now, i am kim hongjoong and i want you back in my life. please.”

you wiped away his tears, placing a hand on his cheek and leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“truthfully? i’ve been waiting for you every day since i left,” you sighed, “i didn’t even take all my stuff.”

hongjoong chuckled, “i thought you did that to be cruel.”

you laughed, climbing onto his lap, the way you used to when he was working, “i missed you, hongjoong. and i don’t just mean in the past week.”

hongjoong nodded, “i missed you, in the past week, more than i’ve ever missed someone before. but... i know, and i missed me too. i’m so, so glad to be back.”

you chuckled, kissing him again, “it’s good to see you again, hongjoong-ah. don’t go away again. promise?”

hongjoong smiled, linking his pinky finger with yours.

“i promise.”

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