This Night Together - Chapter Eleven (j.yh + S.mg)

this night together - chapter eleven (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter eleven: a new love song

chapter summary: time, and a well worded letter, heals all wounds. finally, it's time to let go.

warnings: nothing really, social drinking, etc.

notes: reminder that if you're reading this on or around 12.3.23 when it's posted, i'm uploading three chapters at once! if you haven't read chapter ten, go do that before you skip ahead!!

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 5.2k

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The party is bright, bursting with light and color and art. You can feel Hongjoong’s presence everywhere from the moment you step through the doors and you almost feel underdressed. You selected your outfit for him, something a little bolder than you’d normally do, but something that truly suits the occasion and the honored guest. You adjust the top of your black trousers and glance down to ensure the cream white blouse that is parted open is still firmly secured with the hidden tape you painstakingly applied.  You hope your lipstick is staying put. 

The listening party for New World’s new mini album is in full swing, but the night is about more than just that. Their tour has ended, everyone back on Korean soil, and it will be the first time anyone will hear the album from start to finish and the first time you’ll be face to face with them again.

Three months of nothing, no contact except the letter. The letter you’ve read about a hundred times. 

You texted Wooyoung, San, and Seonghwa of course, and they mentioned Yunho and Mingi occasionally, but always in the broader context of what they were doing on tour. You saw them in pictures, travel shots on Instagram or Snapchat stories of their nights out, but otherwise nothing. For three months you let it marinate, and your feelings haven’t changed in the slightest. All you have to do now is find them in this crowd and clear the air. 

It’s no surprise you’re as late as you are, your stomach was in knots getting ready and leaving your apartment had you practically coming apart at the seams. The idea of talking to them is simple, but you’ve rehearsed what you want to say over and over and you can’t imagine how they’ll respond. You take a glass of sparkling wine from one of the caterers and realize there are far more people here than you thought there would be. When you pictured a listening party you expected an intimate crowd, but the gallery space KQ rented is full of faces, some you know and some you don’t. You’re pretty sure you’ve missed the album playthrough at this point, you just hope no one’s noticed your absence. 

“You look so good!” A voice from behind you makes you turn, and you smile when you see Dahan in her sparkly wrap dress. 

“So do you,” You give her a quick, friendly hug. 

“This is your first one, right?” She asks, looking past you to find a drink tray. 

“Listening party?” You clarify, “Yeah,” 

“This is definitely the nicest one so far,” She all but whispers to you, “New World is pulling in that tour money now,” 

“Ah,” You nod. 

“Usually it’s at a nice restaurant or something, not quite so many people,” She explains, snagging a drink, “not that I’m complaining, dressing up is fun,” 

“Do you see Hongjoong at all?” You crane your neck and look through some of the bodies, but you can’t really see anyone else you know closely. 

“Mm,” She joins you, “no, but Yujin and some of the others are over there,” 

You follow her gaze, “Perfect,” 

She starts weaving through and you follow, keeping close to her and protecting your drink as you side step around and behind people. 

When you make it to the little circle of BB Trippin dancers, you slot right in alongside Dahan and give everyone a smile, “Hey,” 

Everyone greets you warmly, but you wonder absently where your little pocket of close friends are hiding. Yujin draws your attention though when she says, “Jaemin’s here,” 

“He is?” Your eyes widen. You barely ever see him, but it does make sense that he would attend an opportunity to bump elbows with people in the industry. 

“Mhm,” She nods, “I saw him talking to Yunho earlier.” 

Butterflies curl in your stomach, “Yunho’s here?” 

“Mhm,” She takes a sip of her drink, “somewhere,” 

“You look really nice,” Minseok interrupts, stepping a little closer so you can hear him better, “I like the whole, you know,” he gestures up and down to indicate he means your outfit and you nod. 

“Thanks,” You nod, “you clean up nice too,” 

“Oh yeah?” He shrugs, “Thanks,” 

You start to turn back to Yujin who looks like she has something more to say, but Minseok keeps going, “Have you met Hongjoong?” 

“Oh,” You start. 

“He’s a nice guy,” He continues, “you’d like his vibe, or at least, I think you would,” 

“Actually,” 

“I’m not sure if you know this or not, but it’s his voice that’s on a lot of the initial guide tracks we get,”

You do know that, but you nod and take a long sip of your drink, ice slipping down and connecting with your lip as you tip it back a little further. 

“He’s a bit eccentric,” Minseok continues. 

“Who’s a bit eccentric?” Seonghwa cuts in, stepping into the circle and cutting smoothly between you and Minseok, another drink for you ready in his hands. 

Minseok’s lips close. 

“Hi, Hwa,” You smile, “that for me?” 

“Of course,” He trades your nearly empty glass for the full one and leans in to press a fast kiss on your cheek, “you look beautiful,” 

“Stop,” You resist the urge to actually nudge him in front of too many people and give off the wrong idea about how close the two of you are, but you give him the best withering look you can. 

He ignores you though, “Who’s eccentric?” 

“Oh,” You do your best to keep the smile off your lips, “Minseok was just telling me about Hongjoong,” 

“Mm,” Seonghwa glances to the side at him, “is he?” 

“Artistic might be the right word,” Minseok corrects himself. 

“Well, that’s true,” You nod. 

“Oh,” Minseok blinks, “so you know him?” 

“Well, yes, I,” You start to say but Seonghwa cuts you off. 

“Speak of the devil,” He nods and when you turn you catch sight of Hongjoong heading right for you both. He’s dressed in the most decadent dark blue velvet suit you’ve ever seen, and the combination of that and his freshly dyed blue hair makes him look like more of an idol, not a producer. 

“My ears were burning,” Hongjoong says wryly, and then his eyes flick over you, “I love this,” 

“I thought you might,” You grin, moving forwards to greet him with a hug, “congratulations, Hongjoong, this is all beautiful,” 

“Thank you so much for coming,” He gives you a squeeze, “we keep missing each other for dinner,” 

“I know, I’ve been so busy lately,” You tell him, “but let’s plan something soon,” 

He nods and smiles and then turns his attention to the group, “Thank you all so much for coming,” he says. 

Minseok looks a little put out next to Seonghwa, and you hope you didn’t embarrass him, but he and everyone else greets Hongjoong and they loop through the congratulations on the finished album. Once pleasantries are done, he focuses his attention back on you, “I have someone I want you to meet,” he says. 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm,” His hand settles on your back as he turns to the group, “can I steal these two for a bit?” He nods his head towards you and Seonghwa. 

He doesn’t really wait for permission, he’s just being polite, and he steers you out of the circle and starts walking you back through the crowd closer to the stage area. 

“When did you get in?” Hongjoong asks Seonghwa as you walk. 

“This morning,” He says, “we were supposed to land last night but our flight was so delayed leaving LA,” 

“Thank you for coming anyways,” Hongjoong smiles, “I’m sure you’re exhausted,” 

“It’s fine,” He shrugs it off, “we’ll get back on timezone soon, I’m sure,” 

“Flight was okay otherwise?” You ask, but Seonghwa catches your eye and gives you a knowing smile. 

“Mhm,” He nods, “We’re all home safe and sound, I’m sure everyone else is here somewhere,” 

“Good,” Your throat feels tight, the idea that around one of these corners you’ll find Yunho and Mingi, “that’s good,” 

After three months without any contact, you’re going to have to physically restrain yourself from blurting out how you feel the second you see them. The last time they saw you was awkward at best, and considering the way you left things after the fight, the quickest way to confuse them would be to tell them you want them back with no apology, no preamble. But either way the words still form on your tongue in your imagination, and you’re mid internal monologue when Hongjoong stops walking and brings you back to reality. 

“y/n,” He says, gesturing to the couple across from you, “Seonghwa, I’d like you to meet Choi Jongho and his fiance Kim Eunji,” 

“Oh!” You can’t help the surprised sound that leaves you, “You’re the vocalist Hongjoong has told me so much about!”

Choi Jongho smiles politely, eyes flicking to Hongjoong, but then he nods, “That’s me,” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” You dip your head in quick acknowledgement. 

“So, you’re y/n?” Eunji says before Jongho can finish out the polite greetings and confusion runs through you. 

She’s looking at you with warmth and kindness, and it’s not often that omegas meeting each other for the first time are quite so positive and open. You’re used to a little hesitation, especially when alphas are around, everyone becoming a little territorial in mixed company, but Eunji seems unphased. 

“I am,” You nod as your brain starts to catch up. 

“Hongjoong mentioned you,” She explains at your confused expression, “I was hoping I’d get a chance to say hello,” 

“He did?” 

“Sorry, let me explain,” She smiles, “my little sister is debuting with your company soon,” 

“Oh!” Your brows shoot up and you run through the girls you’ve worked with to realize the common surname, “you’re Jiwoo’s sister?” 

“Yes!” She nods excitedly, “We’re very proud of her,” 

“That’s so nice,” You smile, relaxed now that you understand her abrupt familiarity, “she’s a very good dancer,” 

Eunji beams. 

“She’ll be debuting as main dancer,” Seonghwa nods, “for good reason,” 

Jongho smiles, his hand sweeping a warm line up and down his wife’s back, “Jiwoo says you and the others have been very kind during their preparations,” 

“Well,” You nod, “they’re working very hard, and I’m sure debut must be scary enough, there’s no need to add extra pressure,” 

“It is,” Jongho hums knowingly, and you recall Hongjoong mentioning he was from another idol group that had disbanded. You wonder idly in the back of your mind how difficult it really was for him judging by the brief expression on his face. 

“Exactly,” Hongjoong offers, “I thought you’d all like to meet considering the mutual acquaintance,” 

“Absolutely,” You say, “it’s been lovely,” 

Eunji is about to say something more, but Seonghwa’s hand brushes your upper arm and he leans into your ear, “At the bar,” 

“What?” You glance up at him and he nods past Jongho and Eunji. Your eyes follow his.  

The air leaves your lungs, but you feel Seonghwa’s thumb brush a comforting line over your skin, “Go,” 

“Hwa,”

“If you’ll excuse us,” Seonghwa interrupts you and gives a dazzling smile to your party, “her partners just arrived and it’s been a few months with the tour,” 

You’ll have to have a word with him about his word choice later, you notice the way Hongjoong’s eyes widen, but Jongho and Eunji just nod with understanding. The bond between alphas and their omega isn’t something to be taken lightly, and they take a step back to clear your path. 

You recover just enough to leave with normal pleasantries, “Thank you, sorry to run,” 

“No, no, of course,” Jongho nods, “it was nice to meet you.” 

“If I ever drop by the studio to see Jiwoo,” Eunji adds, “I’ll make sure to say hello,” 

“That would be nice, I look forward to it,” Your body is all but screaming at you to move now. 

“Well,” Seonghwa pushes you forwards, “I’m sure we’ll see each other later on in the evening,” 

Hongjoong says something more but you don’t quite hear it, and suddenly you’re being propelled forwards. Seonghwa dips his head towards you ear, “Good luck, be braver than I would be,” 

And then you’re alone, surrounded by bodies but alone nevertheless. 

You’re not exactly prepared for how you’re going to feel when you see them again. It’s been months, and the first thought that strikes you is how much they’ve changed in such a short time. Mingi looks broader somehow, but his face looks a little thinner and more angular, like he’s lost weight from all the performances and training and travel. Yunho’s hair is a little longer, the back a shaggier against his neck, but intentionally so, and the cut of his jacket makes his shoulders look wider. You want to barrel into their chests and tug them as close to you as you can, but instead you take a steadying breath and just give yourself a second to drink them in. 

You can’t stop yourself from smiling at the way they stand side by side as they wait for their drinks at the bar, and butterflies ripple through you, but despite everything you felt while they were gone there’s no fear. You just missed them, really and truly missed them. 

You’re moving before you consciously think it through and you watch their eyes widen when they see you coming, but it only spurns you on faster until you’re all but crashing into their sides at the bar. 

“Hey,” You’re just so happy to see them you can’t get the grin off your face, “you’re back,” 

“We’re back,” Mingi nods, and you can see the hesitation in his face. 

“I’m,” A million words run through your mind, but you settle on the truth, “so happy to see you,” 

“You are?” Yunho’s brows go high. 

“Yeah,” You step a little closer, letting the words you’ve been holding finally roll off your tongue, “this isn’t the place to talk, but yes, I’m happy to see you, I missed you both.”

Mingi exhales heavily and his lips quirk up. 

Lowering your voice a little more, you hold Mingi’s gaze, “I got your letter,” 

Yunho’s head twists to the side, confusion all over his face as he looks to Mingi for clarity. 

“We should talk,” You want to reach out so badly, but you hold it back for now, “but I wanted you both to know I’m sorry too, and I’m really glad you’re home now,” 

“Me too,” Mingi nods. 

“Good,” You sigh, “that’s good,”

“Are we okay?” Mingi glances between both of you. 

“Yes,” You nod, “I still think we should talk, we left things badly before, but I thought a lot about everything and I don’t want things to be uncomfortable anymore.” 

In the background you hear the speakers cut off the ambient music, and someone taps on a microphone to check that it’s connected. You glance towards the stage and see someone preparing to introduce Hongjoong. 

“Should we go somewhere?” Yunho asks, “Now?” 

The man on stage clears his throat into the microphone. 

You shake your head, “Not tonight, I want to be here for Hongjoong,” 

“Of course,” He backtracks. 

You reach for him this time, resting your hand on his forearm, “But maybe later this week when you’re settled we can just clear the air. I have some things I want to tell you,” 

He swallows tightly, and you can feel that he’s a little nervous but he nods, “Sure,” 

“I just,” You step back and look between them both, “I didn’t want you to stress about coming back to the studio,” 

The relief is palpable between all three of you as Hongjoong takes the stage, and Mingi says, “For a second I was worried you weren’t going to be here,” 

“No, I was just running so late,” You admit. 

“You’ve been okay?” He asks. 

“I am,” You nod, “you both are?”

“Good,” Mingi says. 

“Tired,” Yunho shrugs, and you suppose you can see a little of that in his eyes. 

“Seonghwa said your flights were delayed,” 

“Something like ten hours,” He sighs. 

“Are you sure you’re okay to come back tomorrow already?” You press them, “You’ll be jet lagged,” 

“We’ll be fine,” Yunho smiles a little at your concern, “don’t worry,” 

There’s a pause, a bubbling lull between you, but you can’t keep yourself from saying it, “I really am so glad to see you,” 

“Me too,” Yunho says. 

Mingi nods, but then his eyes flick up and he gestures behind you, “Someone’s looking for you,” 

You check over your shoulder and see Wooyoung lingering nearby and when he catches your eyes he points to his glass and then to you, checking to see if you need another and giving you a smooth out if you need one. You shake your head and turn back to Yunho and Mingi, “I should go,” 

“Okay,” Mingi says. 

You think suddenly if you walk away without making a plan you’ll think of nothing else all night until you can’t sleep, “Saturday,” you blurt out, “are you free?” 

“Yeah,” Yunho says and Mingi nods. 

“Let’s get dinner,” You say it before you can panic and take it back, “you can tell me about tour and I can… I have things I want to tell you,” 

“Just say when and where,” Mingi says, “we’re there.” 

“Okay,” You sigh, “good, perfect,”

You can practically feel Wooyoung hovering at your back and you take a deep breath as you step away, but part of you wishes you could just take Yunho up on his offer to get out of here. 

“y/n,” Yunho smiles a little, stopping you in your tracks, “you look happy,” 

“I am happy,” You tell him honestly. 

“That’s good,” He breathes. 

“Saturday,” You nod, “I’ll catch you both up on Saturday,” 

You see a flicker of something in Mingi’s expression, but then he smiles, “Wouldn’t miss it,” 

You turn before you lose your nerve and run straight into Wooyoung carrying two full glasses of champagne. 

“Everything okay?” He asks, pushing a glass into your hands, some of the bubbling liquid spilling over the sides and over your fingers. 

“Good,” You assure him, tugging him away from the bar and towards the back wall where you can talk to him unobserved. 

“I wasn’t sure if you needed rescuing,” 

“I didn’t,” You tell him, “I was doing fine,” 

“Shit,” He grimaces, “did I fuck up your moment?” 

“No, no,” You shake your head, “we’re meeting on Saturday, I’m going to talk to them then,” 

Something’s a little hurried in his face though, his eyes glancing past you again and again, and you can feel that he’s not exactly present. 

“Woo,” You start but he locks his eyes with yours and cuts you off. 

“I think I just met the love of my life,” He stammers, “I might fucking faint,” 

“What?” You hush him, pressing him back into the wall behind you, “Are you serious?” 

“I’m not going to faint for real,” He swats your hands away, “but I don’t know, y/n, I can’t breathe. My fucking chest is tight,” 

“Holy shit,” You manage. 

“I know,” He nods, “I know,” 

“You’re not close to your heat are you?” You probe him, wondering if you need to make a break for San and Seonghwa. 

“No,” He shakes his head, laying a cool hand on his flushed cheeks, “it’s nothing like that,” 

You nod relieved, “Well, then what happened?” 

“Okay,” He takes a long steadying breath, “you see that guy on stage? The one to the left of Hongjoong?” 

“Choi Jongho?” Your voice spikes up and he shushes you frantically. 

“No, oh my god,” He waves his hand to get your volume down, “he’s engaged, y/n, no, the other one,” 

You look to the left of Jongho and take in the third man on stage. He’s the one who introduced Hongjoong, his voice low and velvety soft. He has long blonde hair that brushes his collar bones, the top half gathered into a messy but chic bun. You can tell from here he’s handsome, devastatingly so, with a cool expression and his lips parted just enough to make you wonder how he kisses. 

“Oh,” You nod, “got it,” 

“Exactly,” He runs a panicked hand through his own hair. 

“He’s an alpha?” You surmise, “Did you catch his scent or,” 

Wooyoung’s shaking his head frantically before he can finish his words, “He’s a beta,” 

You can’t control the surprise in your expression, Wooyoung’s only ever really gone for alphas. It makes sense, most omegas do, considering the hindbrain of it all, but Wooyoung’s looking about as wrecked as you’ve ever seen someone. 

On stage, Hongjoong gestures towards the two men on his left and you switch your focus from Wooyoung’s whining panic to the man addressing the crowd, “I have one more announcement to make tonight,” he says, “something that would not have been possible to announce without Choi Jongho. I don’t think I need to tell you what a talent he is and how lucky we are at KQ to have brought him on. We have a preview of something we’d like to share, once again, something I felt very creatively supported in by Kang Yeosang,”

“That’s him,” Wooyoung hisses next to your ear and you refocus, “Kang Yeosang,” 

“Shh!” You hush him, but by the time you can hear Hongjoong again, he’s moved on to announcing that he’s going to preview Jongho’s new single, and you roll your eyes to refocus on Wooyoung, “So who’s this guy?” 

“Creative director,” He explains quickly, “album art, concepts, the works.” 

“Damn,” You manage. 

“He’s so fucking smart, y/n, you have no idea,” He breathes. 

“So you actually talked to him?”

“Talked to him?” He laughs, “I had his cock down my throat like thirty minutes ago,” 

“Jesus Christ, Wooyoung, that’s too much information,” You smack his arm. 

He rolls his eyes and continues, “We bumped into each other in the hall, like physically bumped into each other. I spilled my drink all down his nice white shirt,” 

The shirt Yeosang is wearing is still crisp white, so you assume there’s more to this story before he even keeps going. 

“I felt like an idiot,” He admits, “pulled him into the bathroom and told him I could fix it right up with a little club soda,” 

“Okay,” 

“He barely said anything at first,” Wooyoung continues, “I was just rinsing his shirt out while he stood there half naked looking like Michalangelo or something,” 

“I don’t think Michaelangelo was very cut,” You smirk. 

“The statute,” He swats you, “you know the one, don’t fuck with me,” 

“Okay, fine, go on,” 

“Anyway,” He sighs, “I was just talking, keeping the conversation going, fucking babbling while I washed out his shirt and then before I knew it he had me pressed up against the mirror with his tongue down my throat,” 

“Wow,” 

“One thing led to another,” He blushes again, “and then we just talked while I finished drying his button down,” 

“Wow, again,” You breathe. 

“I know,” He breathes, “I’ve never felt like this,” 

“Okay,” You squeeze his hand, “but, Woo, this is a good thing,” 

“I know, but I’m kind of fucking terrified,” He admits, “is this how you felt?”

“Pretty much,” 

“It’s awful,” He admits. 

“Tell me about it,” 

The crowd around you starts clapping, the speeches are over, and the men on stage start to head down the side steps to rejoin the crowd as the single begins to play. Everyone in the room is listening attentively to the music except you and Wooyoung. 

“What are you going to do?” You ask him, your voice low. 

“Go home with him,” Wooyoung checks his watch and then presses his untouched glass of champagne into your hands, “I’ve got to go,”

“Whoa,” You shake your head, “are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

“I’m a big boy,” He rolls his eyes again. 

“Text me his number, and his address,” You insist, “and check in with me tomorrow. If you don’t, I’m calling Seonghwa and San.” 

“Oh my god, please don’t do that.” He grimaces, texting you Yeosang’s contact information anyways. 

“Don’t make me,” You tell him. 

“Fine,” 

“Have fun, please be safe,” You’d take his hand, but yours are full of champagne. You hope the genuineness of your expression gets your point across to him. 

“I will,” he promises, “and I’ll call you. We’ll talk all about Saturday too, I just,” 

“I get it,” You nod, “honestly, I do,” 

“Thank you,” His eyes soften, “and please, don’t tell San and Seonghwa. Not yet,” 

“I won’t,” You assure him, “just go, be happy,” 

“You too, okay?” He smiles, “Whatever it is, you do it. You deserve it after all this,” 

Your stomach warms at that, and you know he’s right, you just want to do this the right way for once. Over Wooyoung’s shoulder you see the blonde man in question smoothly cutting his way through the crowd, and you nod towards him, “Get out of here, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” 

He’s gone without another word, just a rushed smile as he weaves his way towards Yeosang, a bright and beaming grin now on his face. He’s a goner, you can see it clear as day. A brief flickering question passes through your mind of how this might affect his dynamic with Seonghwa and San, but given the way your best friend is lit up from the inside it doesn’t even matter. If you deserve to be happy like that, so does he, however it happens. 

With Wooyoung gone, you take a moment to survey the room, but you can’t find your group anymore. You see people from KQ you recognize, but your normal BB Trippin group is nowhere in sight and Yunho and Mingi are no longer towering over everyone at the end of the bar. You listen to the rest of the new single, something soulful and rooted in R&B just like Hongjoong had described to you all those months ago. 

As you listen to the crooning love song, your mind loops through the encounter with Yunho and Mingi, of every microexpression and you get lost in your plans for Saturday yet again. How you’ll tell them you’re sorry, how you’re ready to move on and to be honest with one another. How much you still want them, that you might love them. 

You don’t know how long you’re standing there by the back wall, thoughts tumbling over what-ifs when you’re brought back to reality. 

“Tough night?” A voice makes you jump, a little more champagne dipping out of your glasses as you turn to the side. 

“Hey, Minseok,” You laugh a little, “you scared me,” 

“Sorry,” He smiles, begging off, “I just meant the two drinks, and you know, hiding in the corner,” 

“Oh,” You shake your head, “no, Wooyoung ran off and stuck me with his glass. Do you want?” You offer it to him. 

“Sure,” He nods, smoothly taking the glass from your hands. 

You take a quick sip from yours and clear your throat softly, “So, enjoying the party?” 

He nods, “It’s nice, but honestly I was just about to get out of here and call it a night,” 

“Me too,” You nod. You’d try to say goodbye to Hongjoong, but he’s been tied up all evening mingling, and without any of your friends in sight it seems as good a time as any to slip out. 

“Let me walk you out,” He offers, plucking the champagne from your fingertips and placing both glasses on one of the nearby side service tables. 

You probably would have finished it, and a flicker of annoyance passes through you, but you let it pass and nod, “Sure,” 

You’re not far from the door, and he organizes grabbing both of your checked jackets as he makes small talk, “Are you taking the train or,” 

“I’ll probably order a car,” You usually do when it’s late like this and you’ve had a few drinks despite the extra cost. 

“Me too,” He nods, passing your jacket over. 

You shrug it on and search for something to say, but Minseok isn’t as forthcoming and chatty as some of the other dancers, “Do you live closeby?” 

“More towards Itaewon,” He zips his jacket and gestures towards the exit doors that will lead you out onto the street. 

“Mm,” You nod, pushing through the doors. 

“You know, we could,” Minseok starts to say, but the minute you step aside you finally see some familiar faces. 

“There you are!” You smile, and your familiar group of dancers turns at your voice. 

Minseok says something else, but you don’t quite catch it and you spin to apologize quickly over your shoulder before rejoining your friends. 

“I thought you left,” San ushers you over to their group. 

“Good timing,” Seonghwa adds, “my car’s not far, you want a ride?” 

“Sure,” You nod, you’ll never turn down a less expensive rideshare. 

Yunho and Mingi are talking with Jaemin at the edge of the group, but you catch Mingi’s glancing eye and give him a smile. It’s impossible to just smooth over your last real conversation with them, but you’re trying to signal in every little way that you want to move past it, that his letter meant something. You’ll lay out the rest for them as soon as you get them alone. 

He smiles back, quickly catching that you’re about to leave and you can see that he wants to step away from the conversation he’s having about some missteps from the tour. 

“Have you seen Wooyoung?” San asks, bringing your attention back. 

“For a second,” You nod, but look away from quickly as you try to tell a vague white lie, “I think he already split,” 

He hums, but then Seonghwa gently taps your back, “Car,” 

“Oh, perfect,” You step with him and turn to the group, “goodnight everyone, see you in the morning!” 

Dahan and San both give quick, small waves. 

“Goodnight,” Mingi says, his conversation stuttering to a pause so he can address you, “see you,” 

“See you tomorrow,” Yunho adds, nodding. 

Your stomach feels like it might flutter right out of your body. 

“I’ll have him drop you first,” Seonghwa says as he helps you into the car, jogging to the opposite side to get in himself. 

As the car pulls away you feel lighter than you have in months, and seeing them again makes everything feel so much more sure. They’re real, they’re back, and they want to see you too. Everything else falls to the side, for once the path forwards is crystal clear. 

this night together - chapter ten (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter ten: the truth

chapter summary: seonghwa needs a friend and you say goodbye to your friends and goodbye to them as tour begins.

warnings: nothing too explicit except there is a frank discussion about alpha/omega/beta dynamics and pack dynamics that somewhat mirror real life lgbtqia+ issues like family not being accepting, societal pressures, etc.

notes: thank you all for waiting for me, i can't thank you enough honestly. it took a while to push through and get through the middle of this fic, but we're there. today (12.3) is a special update day, i'm posting three chapters - ten, eleven, and twelve. make sure you're reading in order starting here!

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 5k

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Surprisingly the next few weeks pass with relative ease. It’s not painful like before, the crushing weight of their cold isolation. This time you all know exactly where you stand, and with you asking them for space it feels like you’re a little more in control of when and how the next conversation with them occurs. 

You spend the weeks working, keeping things cordial in the studio, and seeing your friends. Keeping things busy gives you less time to step back into that studio room and wonder what you should have done differently, so you fill your schedule up to the brim. In looking forward to the tour and the impending lack of your social circle, you start to reach out little by little to other members of the BB Tripping group too. 

There’s a gap in your life without them, but for now that has to be okay. For now, you grow your life in every other way you can. 

You’re able to focus on everything else until Seonghwa calls. 

Little cafe meetups aren’t out of the ordinary for you both, but meeting at a new spot halfway across Seoul is. You’re normally so attached to the neighborhoods around the studio, so the idea that you’d actually have to take the subway and follow directions on your phone sends little warning signals up your back. He sounded mostly fine on the phone, but something a little whispered in his tone left you agreeing to meet immediately. 

He said he just wants to see you one more time before the tour, but you feel the strange bubble of pretense around the whole set up. When you finally get there, after thirty minutes and much confusion, he meets you at the door with a clear expression of relief. He buys you a coffee and a fancy tiered pastry, and then shuffles you towards the empty, far end of the cafe. 

“The trip wasn’t too bad?” He checks as he pulls out your chair, “I wanted to try this place,” 

A smooth lie, but you’ll let it go, “It was fine,” you assure him, “this street is cute,” 

“Mm,” He nods. 

You have so, so many questions, but you start small, “Three months,” you sigh, settling into the seat, “it feels kind of weird,” 

“Yeah,” Seonghwa pushes your chair in and takes his own seat, “it’s hard to pack for a tour,” 

“I can’t even imagine,” You grimace. 

“You get really sick of miniature toiletries after about a week,” He says, “and you’d think that all the travel would be great, but you end up sitting in hotel rooms most of the time.” 

“Well,” You shrug, “you can always call me for an update on the studio,” 

“Oh, I will,” He laughs, “the time difference is pretty tough though,” 

“Still,” You insist, “we’ll make it work.” 

Silence lulls between you, he nods at your words but doesn’t say much else, and you watch as he fingers fiddle with the handle of his cup, restless and seemingly on edge. He needs something, you just don’t know what. 

“Seonghwa,” You murmur, “is everything okay?” 

“Yes,” He drops his hand into his lap, “completely fine,” 

You chew the inside of your lip, wondering whether to press him, “Are you sure?” 

He looks down for a moment and then nods, “Everything is fine, but I wanted to talk to you about something,” 

“Okay,” 

“Me and San,” He says in a rush of exhaled breath. 

“Oh,” Your eyes widen, completely blindsided by his words. You thought if he chose to share this with you it would be months, years even. He was so closed off after your heat that you assumed you’d let it lie, just like Wooyoung, but here you are. 

“You said I could talk to you about this,” He continues when he sees your expression, “but if,” 

“Of course you can,” You shake off your expression as fast as you can, “I just didn’t know that’s what you were going to say.” 

“It’s just that I’ve been thinking a lot about it,” He says, “especially considering everything you’ve been dealing with,” 

You nod, but keep quiet. 

“I don’t know, I thought it would be good to get it out there,” He confesses. 

“Then I’m here, I’m listening,” You lean forwards, nodding again in encouragement. 

He takes a moment to get his words together, and it suddenly makes sense why he wanted to try a cafe in a neighborhood neither of you lived or worked near. He reached out to you to talk about this, to finally share with someone, and he wanted to be one hundred percent sure no one from your lives would overhear. 

“Our thing,” Seonghwa nods and you know he means his relationship with San and Wooyoung, “it started off a lot like yours.” He doesn’t need to say their names, you know who he means.  

You smile, “Accidental and stressful?” 

“Definitely accidental,” He nods, “we had been friends for years, and Wooyoung always dealt with his heats outside of work and without us really knowing much about it,” 

“Really?” You find that hard to believe with how much he overshares. 

“Mhm,” Seonghwa turns the cup on his saucer one way and then back the other as he figures out how to start. “Usually anyways, but about two years ago he was out for his heat leave like normal, and he called San in a panic. The alpha he arranged to meet flaked out on him and he was too far gone at some heat hotel in Incheon. He didn’t have anything he needed, the alpha was supposed to bring it all,” 

“God,” You grimace at the thought. 

“Exactly,” Seonghwa nods, “he was in a lot of pain and he was really scared,” 

“Of course,” 

“San called me,” Seonghwa explains, “he was nervous about spending Wooyoung’s heat with him, even though he agreed.” 

You nod, but stay quiet to give him the space to continue. 

His eyes dart down, a little unfocused as he sinks into the memory of it, “He was so concerned about hurting Wooyoung or doing the wrong thing, and he was begging me to give him advice. Advice just turned into me offering to drive him to Incheon and helping him shop for supplies, and before you knew it I was up in the room with them both.” 

“Wooyoung was okay with that?” You ask. 

He nods, “Wooyoung was fine, more interested in making sure neither one of us was uncomfortable between his heat spikes,” 

You nod again. 

Seonghwa looks back up to you then and sighs, “Before Youngie’s heat, I had a bit of a crush on San. It was really nothing, just a bit of a flirtation in my mind. Someone to think about alone at night, you know,” 

“Yeah,” You think of Yunho for a brief, flashing second and the way you used to watch him around the studio. 

“But that heat changed everything,” He smiles, a little sadly, “I think you know what I mean.” 

You fight the urge to reach across the table and take his hand, fearful that you might break his willingness to open up. 

“The funny part,” He says, a fresh crease between his brows, “is that San felt the same way. We both knew alpha pairings were a little unorthodox, but for a while we didn’t care. We carried on for a few months, but we kept it quiet so it didn’t interfere with work or any of our friendships.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“Wooyoung still doesn’t know about that part,” He says quietly, “so I’d appreciate it if you kept that between us,” 

“Of course, Hwa,” 

“Things started to go further though. We were going on dates without calling them dates, sleeping at each other’s places, leaving things behind. We were texting all the time, sneaking kisses in the locker room,” He explains, “we just couldn’t leave each other alone.” 

He goes quiet again, and this time you do reach across the table, resting your hand over his twitching fingers, “What happened?” 

He swallows tightly and he looks away again, but his hand turns under yours to press your palms together, “One morning San asked if I wanted to spend the weekend in Namhae, he missed his family and thought it would be nice if we all spent some time together.” 

“Oh,” You breathe, the pieces of their story falling together in front of you so easily. 

“I couldn’t do it,” He confesses, “and I said some things I shouldn’t have. I told him that I loved him, but that our friendship was what mattered to me, and that we were kidding ourselves by not trying to find omegas of our own.” 

Your cringe, “Seonghwa,” 

“I know,” He breathes, his head dropping, “it was cruel.” 

“Your relationship,” You squeeze his hand, “what you had with San wasn’t wrong, you know that right? It’s perfectly,” 

His head snaps up, “I know it’s not wrong.” 

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room at the expression in his eyes, fierce determination as he snaps to defend himself. You stay silent. 

“I’m sorry,” He shakes his head, pulling his hand back, “I do know that, that’s not why I broke it off.” 

“Then,” 

“My family is very traditional,” Seonghwa says, “they believe that alphas and omegas are made as a perfect match. They believe that every alpha has a destined omega and that a bond, a claim, should be between one alpha and one omega only.” 

“That’s so,” You trail off, unable to really form the words. Traditional is a kind, sanitized word for what it is. You would have said bigoted, downright prejudicial, and your chest aches at the idea that he grew up cocooned in that kind of indoctrination. 

“Hypocritical,” His cheek twitches, “considering my parents loathe each other.” 

You smile at that, “I’m sorry,” 

He shrugs, his cool exterior slotting back into place, “It’s a shame that we’re not a scent match, honestly. My parents would be so proud of me if I brought you home,” 

You take his hand again, brushing smoothly past his comment, “Are they so traditional they don’t believe in packs either?” 

“That’s worse,” He crinkles his nose, “to them.” 

Packs have always been a little controversial, especially with the rise in beta designations and the decreasing likelihood that omegas will find a true honest-to-god scent match, but it’s not unheard of. Polyamory and packs have started to crop back up in popular media, and it’s becoming more and more common to see an omega paired with two or more alphas despite the traditionalist view that it’s a return to baser, more primal instincts. You were raised knowing packs were an option, but as you listen to Seonghwa and understand his past, you know everything for him was the opposite. 

“I really am sorry,” You murmur, “it must have been difficult to grow up surrounded by that mindset.” 

He nods, and then takes a long sip of his untouched coffee. 

The threads are coming together more clearly, but there’s still a question lingering in your mind and the words leave you without any real consideration, “If you don’t believe that, then why break it off with San?” 

He grimaces, “My parents are fairly wealthy,” 

Your stomach turns icy. 

“And you know the money in dance isn’t exactly overwhelming,” He explains, “they’ve always offered their financial support to me, but it’s incredibly conditional.” 

“Hwa,” You breathe. 

“San thought I chose the money over him,” Seonghwa leans back in his chair, separating your hands again and resting his wrists on the edge of the table, “I tried to explain the situation to him, I tried to apologize for what I said and ask him for more time… time to figure everything out and to be able to be financially independent from them, but all he heard was that I wasn’t willing to lose the money.” 

You shake your head, but he keeps going. 

“You know how he is, he’s more headstrong than anyone I’ve ever met. Once he has an idea, there’s no telling him differently.” Seonghwa explains. 

“But it’s not true,” You’re suddenly so frustrated with Choi San you could wring his neck. 

“It is what it is, y/n,” 

“But,” You trail off, deflated, “aren’t you still seeing each other?” 

“No,” He says firmly, “only for Wooyoung’s heats.” 

“And that’s what? Working out fine?” Your eyebrows dart up. 

“For now,” He sighs, “and I’m under no big illusion that he’s going to forgive me and we’re going to go riding off into the sunset. He told me he wanted to be friends and he wanted us to continue being there for Wooyoung and we just let it go back to the way it was, and honestly,” his voice softens, “I’ll take some of him, even if I can never have all of him.” 

“Oh, Hwa,” 

His eyes are a little watery, but it clears quickly and he clears his throat, “Anyways, that’s it. That’s the tragic little story.” 

“That’s just not fair,” You shake your head, “you should be together,” 

He shakes his head, “Maybe, but I’m not willing to risk losing what I do have.” 

“If San understood,” You start. 

“Listen,” He cuts you off, “I know it seems like there should be this big movie scene, where we both admit we hurt each other and put it all behind us, and build a little pack together and have lots and lots of babies, but I just don’t think that’s going to happen. I’ve made peace with that.” 

You can see plainly that he hasn’t, but in the same way he doesn’t push you on your relationship with Yunho and Mingi, you take a calculated step back from pressing down on this particular nerve. 

“Okay,” You say, “well then thank you for telling me, and I’m here if you ever need to talk about it.” 

“Thank you,” The air leaves him in a relieved rush. 

“And Woo doesn’t know?” You’re hard pressed to believe that. 

He shrugs lightly, “He knows something, we’ve spent enough heats together for him to see what’s there, but it’s not something we discuss.” 

“Got it,” You murmur. 

“And you?” He turns the conversation back with ease, “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?” 

You nod, “I’m just going to leave it for a while. I’ll apologize when they come back and the air is cleared a little,” 

“Apologize?”

“They’re not the only ones who’ve messed things up,” You tell him honestly, “and if I could take back what I said, I would.”

“Me too,” Seonghwa smiles softly. 

“Besides,” You lean back in your chair, “you’ll all be gone tomorrow, and I’m sure I’ll talk to you and Woo and San, but you’ll be busy and in a completely different timezone. It’ll be for the best,” 

“Maybe a change of scenery will be good for them,” Seonghwa adds. 

“I hope so,” You murmur. 

“I’m honestly surprised they haven’t said anything to me,” He points out, “but it’s been the same as always,” 

“Really?” 

He nods, smiling a little,  “I thought for a second Mingi was being a little cold, but he just had earbuds in and couldn’t hear me,” 

You laugh sharply, “Well,” you shrug, “I really gave it to them. Maybe they realized being jealous isn’t a good look, especially if we’re ever going to get the chance to be friends or try this again with a clean slate.” 

Seonghwa chews at the inside of his lip for a moment and then sighs, “y/n, do you want to know what I really think?” 

You dip your head, gesturing for him to continue. 

“I think they’re idiots, and I think they acted like assholes and you deserve an apology for it,” You can sense that there’s something more and he continues, “but I’ve made those mistakes. I’ve pushed away someone I care about, I’ve said the wrong things, and I’ve had a hell of a time trying to patch it back together.” 

Your stomach twists. 

“I’m not telling you what to do,” He says, “but I’ve known Yunho and Mingi for a long time. I see the way they look at you, the way they talk about you. There’s more than just an attraction there, there’s something real for all of you.” 

“That’s the part that’s terrifying,” 

“Yeah,” He nods, “and you know, maybe don’t take advice from me, the guy whose love life is beyond a mess, but I also don’t want you to regret anything here.” 

You reach for his hand again and take it without hesitation. 

“I just need to think it through,” You say softly, “and then be brave,” 

Seonghwa nods. You think that maybe if you can be brave, he can too, but you both let that thought lie in the space between you untouched. You don’t need to press him, not after everything he just shared with you and how much more you’re sure is there under the surface, but the thought is still understood by you both just the same. 

“I know you’ll do what’s best for you,” Seonghwa adds after a moment, “but until then,” 

“Until then let’s not think about it anymore,” You finish his words for him. 

He takes another deep breath, and you can see the way telling his secret has lifted something away from his shoulders. He takes another long sip of his coffee and then finally he says, “Do you have anything else you’re doing today?” 

You shake your head. 

“Want to wander around and help me buy unnecessary travel accessories?” He grins. 

“Seonghwa,” You squeeze his hand, “I would love nothing more,” 

“Great,” He runs a hand through his hair, “then let’s go back to Hongdae, I don’t know any of the stores over here.”

“You owe me a train ticket,” You nudge him as you start to gather up your things. 

“I bought you a coffee,” He points out, standing with you. 

“You always buy my coffee,” 

“Fine,” He rolls his eyes but you can see that it’s playful, “I’ll buy you a little thank you present for coming all the way out here,” 

“That’s more like it,” You tease, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes and giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “now let’s go home,” 

Despite your long goodbye afternoon with Seonghwa, it’s harder to really say goodbye to them all on the day than you thought it would be. 

When the last practice before their flight is over, everyone dressed in their coats and hats and ready to go for the night, all of the BB Trippin crew lingers in the front entrance hall. Well wishes, talks of food to try, jet lag tips, the weather. You try to ignore the full suitcases by the door. 

It isn’t until the very last moment that the real feeling of it starts to sink in. 

Wooyoung’s arms are banded tightly around you when the realization of just how long three months is barrels over you in full force. You take a hitched little breath hiding in his shoulder and get your emotions in check, but it’s starting to become readily apparent now. You’re going to miss them, not just your friends, but them too. 

There’s a part of you that fantasizes about throwing up your hands and confessing all your conflicting feelings, chasing them down in the airport like an old movie and laying it all on the line, but you’re not going to actually do that. It’s not fair to anyone if you do something like that. You laid out boundaries for the past few weeks, they more than respected them, and you have no doubt they’ll stay silent over the next few months just like you requested. 

“I’m not going to war,” Wooyoung laughs, squeezing you back once as he tries to extricate himself from your arms, “it’s just tour,” 

“No, I know, I know,” You clear your throat softly, “I’m going to miss you though,” 

“Me too,” He smiles, running a hand through his hair as he steps back.

When you step back from him, Mingi and Yunho are closer than they were a few moments ago and they’re keeping their eyes elsewhere but you can’t let them go without a single word. You can’t. If anything happens to them you’d regret it so deeply, and your hand shoots out to brush along Mingi’s arm. 

His eyes flash with recognition for a second, but he remains cool and calm when he turns to you and you watch Yunho follow suit.

“Have safe flight,” You manage, your chest tight at the idea that this is really it. 

“You too,” Mingi says and then he sighs as he realizes his mistake, “not flight, obviously,” 

“Right,” You smile, his awkwardness breaking the tension between you so easily. 

“Be safe here,” Yunho offers, correcting the sentiment, “and good luck with all the debut preparation, I know it’ll go smoothly with you and Dahan handling things,” 

Your chest warms, “Thank you, Yunho,” 

He nods and then takes a step back, and suddenly there’s nothing more to say. 

“Well, we should go,” Yunho clears his throat, “goodbye, y/n,” 

“Bye,” You manage. 

“Bye, y/n,” Mingi nods, turning to take the handle of his suitcase from Yunho. 

They start towards the door, and you offer a final goodbye, and then a hand in the middle of your back draws your eyes to the side at Seonghwa. 

“Safe flight,” Seonghwa murmurs the tease low into your ear as he gives you a fast hug. 

“Shut up,” You shove him as subtly as you can. 

He smiles, a little mischievously, “I’ll text you when we land.” 

“Good,” You nod, “get some sleep on the plane,” 

He salutes as he steps back and drops an arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders, “Yes, ma’am,” 

You roll your eyes more obviously this time, but before they continue their teasing, Wooyoung tugs his friends closer to the door, “Alright, alright, I’m exhausted and our cab’s outside,” 

“Bye, y/n,” Seonghwa calls over his shoulder as Wooyoung shoves him out the door, and you can hear San laughing from just outside, Yunho’s voice echoing beside it. 

Movement from the door draws your eye, and Mingi hitches his duffle bag up over his shoulder. His lips quirk up in the smallest smile, and he waves, just a little. 

You wave back with a nod, and then he’s gone. 

The studio moves forward just the same. Quieter, but the same. 

You and Dahan spend your time focused on the debut, and despite how much you think of them for just a flicker before you drop off into sleep every night, your body is so tired from work that your mind never dwells for too long. 

Weeks pass around you in a busy blur

Three months doesn’t seem so long as it whips by around you, not unless you really let yourself slow down and think about it. You still get updates from your friends as they hop from city to city, photos online of New World where you can see your best friends in the back, and then their Instagram updates of every new strange dish they try. 

Yunho and Mingi stay quiet, just like you needed, until one night they don’t. 

The email sitting unread at the top of your inbox was sent three days ago. You rarely check your inbox, and there’s a real chance you would have missed this message entirely, but you just happened to be looking for an authentication code at the exact right time and there’s no mistaking what this email is when you stumble across it. There’s no subject, but there is a little preview pane of the first line and your breath catches in your throat when you see it. 

y/n - You said don’t text and don’t call, but you never said don’t email. 

Your heart tightens in your chest and you double check the email address. You don’t have it saved, but just know it’s Mingi. You need a drink for this. You step away from your desk and run your hands through your hair, heart beating fast, and you try to decide what to do as you leave your room for a breath and a glass of anything. 

You pour some wine with shaky hands, the quiet of your apartment feeling so loud around you. If you open it, you won’t be able to live in an ignorant little bubble anymore. You could delete it, really put your foot down about no contact and keep moving on. You could do that. 

You’re back at your desk seconds later with your cursor hovering over the email. 

He’s not wrong. You never said don’t email. 

With a gulp of wine for courage, you press down and brace yourself. 

y/n -

You said don’t text and don’t call, but you never said don’t email. I’m not sending this so you’ll reply, I’d prefer if you didn’t, but honestly I’m not always the best at saying something in the moment. Please forgive this. 

I’ve thought a lot about us the past few weeks and I wanted you to know that I understand why you’re confused. It was hard to see it before. Something made me insane when you said you slept with Seonghwa, and I can see how all that alpha shit would make sense, but that wasn’t it. Not all of it anyways. I’ve spent so much time thinking it through and what really upset me wasn’t that you were with somebody else or even that it was him. I was so fucking mad at myself for letting us go back to being friends. Especially now that I know you wanted us too and we wrecked it. I feel like a fucking coward, and I swear to god I’ve never been a coward before. You make me feel things and do things that make no sense. It’s hard to make sense of anything when we’re together except that I like being with you.  

These things are so much easier to say when you’re not here. Yunho’s better at this kind of thing, and you’re so good at it sometimes I can’t keep up. 

I want to say that I’m sorry for all of it. I really didn’t do any of it right. You didn’t choose us that night but you did trust us, you trusted me and I’ve done nothing but hurt you since that weekend ended. I thought you wanted to go back to being friends, but when I saw you at the studio the day after I couldn’t do it. I thought if I talked to you I would just cross too many lines, I didn’t realize how much more I wanted from you until you left. But I thought about how much it would hurt you if I pushed it too far at work, and then I thought about how much it would hurt Yunho if you wanted me and not him. Or how much it would hurt me if it were the other way around. Or what would happen if you didn’t want us at all? 

I think I should tell you that Yunho and I didn’t talk for a few weeks either, not really. I think we were all just waiting for the other person to say something, but the whole time we were hurting you. I’m so sorry for that. 

I feel bad about the kiss too. I just panicked, I didn’t know what to do to make you stay. I know it wasn’t the right time, so I’m sorry for that too. 

Yunho is sorry too by the way. Someday if we ever talk about this, he’ll tell you himself, but he’s my best friend and I just have to tell you that he hates himself for how he treated you. He’d be so pissed if he knew I was sending this to you, but you have to know it.

I feel like there’s so much more I could say… things that I want the chance to explain to you, things about how I felt before we ever got together, but you said we missed our chance and I have to learn how to respect that. That’s why I don’t want you to respond to this letter. I wanted to send this because I don’t think I can do this face to face right now, I tried to be honest in the studio that night and all I did was make it worse. I hope you at least read this and can understand that, and I promise I won’t write to you again. 

I want you to know that Yunho and I talked, and we agreed on what to do. We won’t reach out, we won’t push you. When we come home, we’d like the chance to be friends again like we were. We want you to feel comfortable with us again and to trust us again. I know we missed our chance, but being friends with you is always going to be better than nothing. 

We care a lot about you. I hope through all the noise you can still feel that. 

While we’re away please be safe and be happy. 

Please don’t respond. Mingi

You read it again, and again for good measure. After the fourth time you close your laptop tight and leave it far away from you. You want to tell him that you’re sorry too, that they’re not alone in making mistakes after your heat and that you all fucked it up together. A perfect mix of insecurity and biology and doubt and fear boiling over to make sure none of you opened up to each other and just said what you wanted. But you don’t say any of that. 

You’ll tell them when they’re home. 

For once you think the right thing to do is to listen. 

You don’t respond.

a/n: reminder, i am no longer doing taglists as they became too unruly to properly maintain. please turn on post notifs, check my blog regularly, or subscribe on ao3 to get immediate updates.

Who. (2/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 3

Yunho kept checking the file in his hands, reading over and over the same words not being able to register anything, his head was all over the place, between the tiredness, the stress and his broken heart, concentrating was proving to be impossible.

“Careful, Jeong. If you think any harder your head might catch on fire.” Said Lee Minho entering the doctor’s launch with an empty coffee mug.

“Piss off, Minho.” He didn't turn his eyes from the paper, determined to make it work no matter how much it took.

Minho’s eyes focused on the taller man in front of him, his skin was paler than normal, a slight blue tint covered it; his eyes were sunk in their sockets, dark purple bags underneath them; lips dry and crusty; he looked thinner, he looked sick. Yunho and Minho weren’t by any means close, they had spent the entire med school fighting for the top spot in their class; Jeong Yunho had proved to be a real pain in the ass, managing to balance school, work, friends and a fucking three-way relationship while Lee Minho could barely sleep and see his, now, husband.

“Not that I care, Jeong but, are you okay?” Said Minho, leaning against the countertop and waiting for the coffee to be done.

Yunho tossed the folder on the table, completely done. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids, trying to calm the blinding headache he had been carrying around his entire shift. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Lee.”

The cat-eyed doctor shrugged, not wanting to dig any further, he tried. He took his mug and made a beeline straight to the door, but he couldn’t help but look back at his school rival, and what he saw shocked him a bit. His shoulders were slumped, and shaking, his face in between his hands, and small but heavy sobs left his mouth. A suffering Yunho was something he had never expected to see, and while he thought it would bring him joy, it just made him feel weird. He would have to ask Jisung what was going on, he was friends with Mingi, and he would have to know.

______________________________________________________________

Mingi was not doing any better at work. He fell asleep on his desk, barely paid attention at meetings, and was hostile to his co-workers and possible clients. Jongho was done with attitude, he had been patient, as much as he could, and he tried to understand the situation, but it was becoming too much.

“Mingi, I am begging you, please go home, you cannot continue like this. Get some sleep, eat and come back when you are better.” Jongho said as softly as possible, not wanting to trigger another fight with the dirty blonde lawyer in front of him.

“Jongho, I’m okay. I would rather just be working, there’s nothing to do at home anyways.”

“Mingi…” He was interrupted.

“Jongho, I won't repeat myself, leave me alone.” He turned his chair away from the younger lawyer.

That was it. He was done.

Jongho slammed his hand against the desk, startling Mingi, “Listen to me, Mingi, I get that you are sad, okay? I get it. But you cannot come here and act like a fucking dick and expect everyone to be okay with it. We tried to be nice and give you a couple of weeks to recover, but so far, we have lost two important clients because of your attitude and you pissed off three more. I’m sorry she left, but I highly doubt she would come back if she saw the mess you’ve become. Yelling at people, turning work in late, getting drunk, fighting with Yunho, do you think she wants that? Because I highly doubt it.” He jabbed his finger into Mingi’s chest. “Get. Your. Shit. Together.” And with that he left the office, slamming the door on his way out.

Mingi sighed, taking off his tie. He closed his eyes trying to calm down, but it seemed impossible. Anxiety had been tormenting him for almost a month now, and it didn’t seem like it would stop any time soon. He misses you. A lot. He just didn’t know how to function without that missing piece. Nothing was working right now, his head was always a mess, always going back to that night, trying to remember every moment he neglected you; he was trying to balance out his pain and stress to not mess up his relationship with Yunho as well; while also trying to balance out work as to not get fired, or at least not to piss off Jongho even more, but nothing is working. He misses you, and without you, nothing in him works.

______________________________________________________________

Chan was in the kitchen bar working; his heavy and expensive headphones sat on the top of his head while he was nodding along to the rhythm of his last track. He kept replaying it to try and figure out what was missing, what he could change or fix, but he just couldn’t concentrate. Flashbacks kept showing up in his head, replaying again and again, memories of his college days, memories of the time he fell in love with his now roommate and failed to do something about it.

It was the winter semester; the campus was covered in snow and everyone found refuge inside the library. Chan was planning to go there and work on a paper that was due that same night, but once he saw the amount of people inside the building, he decided he wouldn’t be able to work there. And just as he was about to leave, he saw Hongjoong sitting on a couch in the corner, next to him was something that made the producer’s mouth dry. A woman so beautiful his eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing, his brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening, his feet moved on their own in that direction, he needed to talk to her, to know her name, to introduce himself. His friend got up as soon as he saw him, greeting him and introducing her. Y/n. That was her name, a name Chan would never be able to forget.

A friendship was established that day. You would start by hanging out with Hongjoong, going out to eat, watch a movie or to a party; but soon it became just the two of you. Hanging out at each other’s dorms, he showed you some of his music, and you showed him some of her stories; at first, he would walk you back to her room every night, but after some time you would stay over, “it’s easier” you said. One fateful night, Christopher finally made a move, giving you a quick peck on the lips while listening to your favourite artist’s latest album, the largest seconds of his life were right after, waiting for your reaction; you ended up fucking on top of his desk, pushing all his books, and cd’s to the floor.

That was the way the next months were spent, hanging out and finding any and every excuse to have sex, but never giving a title to what you were. Chan just assumed you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment, convincing himself he was fine with what you had, not admitting he was just too much of a coward to ask if you felt the same as him.

“I just don’t understand him, Jisung. One day he acts as if we were a couple, and the next he calls me his best friend. Friends don’t treat each other the way we do, friends don’t do what we do.”

“Maybe he isn’t ready for that kind of commitment, he would just rather stay as friends with benefits.” Jisung pat her on the back, trying to comfort her.

“But I don’t want to be just friends with benefits.” You pouted her lips.

“Hey, come on, don’t be sad. I'll tell you what, why don’t you come with me to Wooyoung’s party this Friday? You’ll have fun and forget, at least for a bit, about Chan.”

Christopher’s first mistake was introducing you to Jisung. The second one was allowing you to befriend him. And his last, but most fatal one was not going to that party. Why? Because Yunho and Mingi were there.

“Y/n, this my friend Mingi. Mingi, this is Y/n.” And just like that, it was over before it could even begin. That same night Mingi had introduced you to Yunho, and they both were heads over heels for you, they asked you to hang out the very next day and while at first you were confused as to how it would work, they won you over, pushing completely out the idea of Chan off your head.

He remembered the first time you talked about them, he thought you had just made out with one of them at the party, and while he wasn’t exactly happy about it, he could let it slide, no idea of what was about to come. Texts left unanswered; calls that went to voicemail; and long nights waiting for you to show up, but at some point, it became clear, that you were not just sleeping around with them, you were in love. That very same night he went out and got drunk out of his mind, only being able to get back home after Changbin and Minho found him trashed on a bench in front of their building. He blamed himself, if he hadn’t been so scared, if he had just tried, you would be his, and he promised himself that if that door ever opened again, he would be there. But as time went on, it became more apparent that would never happen… until now.

He kept repeating over and over to himself that you weren’t ready, that you still love them and that you were still mourning that relationship, but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted you.

The last month he had been in some kind of hell in heaven. When you first had shown up, he was pissed off beyond comprehension, how could they let this happen? How could they treat you like that? He had spent every second of his existence since he met you, loving and worshipping the ground you walk on and they had let you slip away? Unbelievable. But he couldn’t help but see the perks of all of this. He was the one to console you, to build you back up, and through the course of the weeks, you were better.

He would come back home to you cooking, greeting him the second he went in; you telling him about your day or a new show you were watching; you showed him your work and asked his opinion. Everything went back to how it was; it was even better. This is what he had been missing out all this time?

“Good morning, Channie.”

“Welcome back, Chan. I made some spaghetti; I hope you like it.”

“Hey, Chan. How was work?”

Oh, blissful domesticity. But everything was too good to be true. They would show up in the most subtle ways, in the middle of a conversation, in the notifications of your phone, even in the clothes you wore, they still smell like them; your ex-boyfriends were everywhere in his apartment, tormenting him. And, of course, he wasn’t blind, he could see it, your face still showed how heartbroken you were, and he could also hear it at night, small sobs escaped your mouth, whispering their names again and again.

Yunho…

Mingi…

Never his name.

______________________________________________________________

Jisung had just arrived home, his hands full of grocery bags balancing them while trying to open the door, and just as he was about to spill everything on the ground, a soft hand came to his rescue.

“Jesus, Sungie be careful.” The person behind him giggled.

“Y/n?” His eyebrows furrowed, confused, but he still leaned in and hugged you. “What are you doing here? How did you get in the building?”

“Oh, I live here now.”

“Mingi gave up his rent control apartment? Is he crazy?”

“Um… not exactly.” You scratched the back of your head.

“Okay, come inside and tell me what’s going on.”

…

“And that’s how I ended up living with Chan.” You took a small sip of the hot chocolate Jisung had prepared.

“Have you talked to them?”

You shook your head.

Jisung’s arms were folded against his chest, his eyes looking directly at yours, not sure what to say, “So it’s over between you and them?”

“I don’t know, Hannie. I love them, so much it hurts, but I don't think they feel the same way, they act as if I'm not even there, as if I'm not important to them.” You lay down on the kitchen table, controlling your breathing so you won't start crying.

“Well, that’s just not true.” He put his hand on top of your head, petting you, “Mingi can be an idiot sometimes and the same goes for Yunho, but they love you, baby. From the very first moment they met you, they have loved you, maybe they just lost their tracks for a moment, but they will come back to you.” He kissed you on the forehead, “and if for some reason they don’t, I will be there to help you pick up the pieces.”

______________________________________________________________

Minho arrived late at night, completely done with work and with stubborn patients who thought they knew more than him because they read an article on the internet. Jisung ran to the front door as soon as he heard the jiggling of the keys, ready to receive his grumpy husband. He accompanied him into the kitchen, where he served him a hot plate of his favourite food and told him about this day.

“I found the chips you like on sale so I bought a couple, I also bought the ingredients I was missing for that ramen you want to try, oh and I tried that juice I’ve been craving, but it wasn’t that good.” Minho couldn’t keep up with the number of things that came out of his husband’s mouth, but he was happy to listen. “Oh, oh my god I almost forgot, guess who I ran into?”

“Who?” He said while shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Y/n, she broke up with Mingi and Yunho, and she’s staying with Chan.”

Minho choked, coughing aggressively, not believing the words that came out of Jisung’s mouth. Everything made sense now, that’s why the puppy-like doctor had been so miserable the last couple of weeks. And why Chan had been avoiding him lately. He got up and headed towards the door, “Give me a second, love I’ll be right back.”

He made his way down the hall, he was in no mood to do this, but it had to be done. He had witnessed first-hand how completely devastated had Chan been after you had broken his heart (not that he thinks you did it on purpose), how hard it was to get him to shower, to go to work, how long it took him to go back to normal, and he feared it would happen again. He pounded on the door, not caring if the neighbours next door complained. The door opened harshly, a sleep-deprived Christopher on the door side, looking at him as if he had grown to heads.

“Min, it’s two in the morning, what the hell are you doing here?”

The doctor grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the wall next to the door, “You are going to explain to me exactly what you think you are doing.”

“I'm not doing anything. She’s my friend, I want to help her move…”

He interrupted, “What? Move on? Were you planning to be her saviour so she would fall in love with you? Bang Chan, she’s been engaged to them for almost a year now, they are just going through a rough patch…”

“They broke up.”

“They will get back together, it's more than obvious, they are in love.” He whispered yelling, he was worried, did Chan think he had a chance?

“They neglected her, Minho they took her for granted, I would…”

“Chan, listen to me, she’s not in love with you, whatever you two had it's over, it's been over for years, for Christ's sake.” He shook his shoulders, trying to get some sense into him.

“I know what I'm doing.”

“You clearly, don’t.” He pushed his friend back into his apartment and went back to his. His entire body ached, but anxiety filled his head, not letting him rest.

______________________________________________________________

“So, she finally dumped your ass, good for her honestly,” Minho said as he entered Yunho’s office. The latter one looked up at him, the look in his eyes completely dead. “Geez, you look like shit.”

“What do you want, Minho? I'm busy, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“I know where she is.”

“What?” Yunho looked at him with wide-open eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me about this.” He got up and grabbed Lee by the collar and shook him, “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Because I saw her.” Little white lie, but he technically did know where she was. He pushed him back, “I don’t like you, Yunho, at all. But I know what it's like to be in your shoes, so I’ll make you a deal, you get your shit together and I might just tell you where she is.”

______________________________________________________________

Yunho’s hands kept trembling, he had barely been able to drive home without crashing. He wanted to scream, to cry, to tell Mingi what Minho had told him, all at the same time, but he also thought, what would he say? How could he apologize? Would she take them back? He went into the house, Mingi was lying on the couch, a book in his hands and glasses sitting on his face, his eyebags and skin tone resembling his boyfriend’s, he turned to look at him, noticing how fidgety and dishevelled he looked.

“Are you okay? Did something happen at work?” He got up and approached Yunho, he grabbed his face in his hands and caressed his cheeks.

“Um…” he bit off some of the skin in his lip, not knowing how to deliver the news, his head couldn’t put the words together, not even able to process them. “Minho told me something today.”

“Ugh, that asshole. I don’t know how Jisung married that guy, he's such a nice guy and Minho is so…”

Yunho interrupted him, not able to hold it in any longer, “Minho says he knows where Y/n is staying.”

Mingi felt how the air left his body, all thoughts abandoning his mind in the same way, tears were quick to rush to his eyes, “What?”

“Yeah, he saw her and knows where she’s been staying.” He paused to order his next words, “And he said he will tell me if we manage to get our shit together.”

Mingi took him into his arms and squeezed him till he was out of breath, not being able to contain his happiness. Together they cried and smiled while the thought of everything going back to normal filled them, that was until something crossed their minds at the same time, would you even want them back?

______________________________________________________________

Tag list:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie

lovers in the night (m.)

pairing/wc; j.yunho x reader (11.3k) genre; sugar daddy au, exes to lovers summary; just out of your college with a freshly printed degree, you set out for a job that would fit your somewhat high standards. after a brief scroll through a sugar daddy website and a meeting set-up, you sit across from the one man you didn't expect to see — jeong yunho, your ex-boyfriend and apparently, a millionaire looking for someone to spoil.

warnings; smut (protected) (in the car ;-;), references to break-ups, heartache, lots of cursing, vomit mentions (does not happen, just referenced), reader is a bit mean but for reasons, miscommunication referenced (past)

part of the ...and it's snowing collab

The ad is absurd enough that you’re shocked you pressed on it in the first place.

Seekingsugar.com. Created for people looking for outside assistance in their financial woes. Income level required to be at a certain level. You could only snort at the number, over twice what you make now. Why someone would need assistance having that much funds for themselves is beyond you, but you digress.

Your finger hovers over the sign-up button. Your degree has gotten you a junior position at a law firm, but it isn’t enough to support yourself, your apartment, and the ever growing interest on the loans you’ve taken out. Enough so that you press the button, inputting your information swiftly before being presented with the homepage. You decide to hide your face in the profile photo to remain anonymous, hoping it would be enticing enough to grab someone’s attention.

Your description is fairly simple: your age, occupation – as vague as you can be – and list of interests. You also add that you’ve just graduated with your master’s degree, and you’re looking for someone to help. After putting enough photos up on your profile, you close your phone, throwing your blanket over your body and falling asleep soon enough.

...

The blaring of your alarm pulls you from your sleep, exhaustion encasing your body as you fling your hand to turn it off. You glance at the time, brows furrowed once you see the notifications. You wouldn’t consider yourself a popular person, a few text messages from your friends every so often, maybe one from your boss (of which you ignore until you’re fully awake). But now, you see dozens of notifications from the app you downloaded last night. You press your finger against the fingerprint reader, almost blinded by the amount of messages in your inbox. A lot are lewd, which was expected. You almost delete the app itself after a moment of clarity, until one particular message stands out from the rest.

yulips - isn’t it such a disaster?

Your brows furrow at the message. What exactly is he speaking of? Recognition breaks through your fogged mind, remembering the status message that you put before you slept: cannot believe i have to resort to asking people for money instead of relying on my employment.

You open his profile. It’s pretty simple - he owns an undisclosed company worth more money than you can even imagine. It’s verified by the site, so he’s legit. His profile states that he’s reached out to five potential receivers, as they call it. Photographs are similar to yours, pictures of scenery. Face hidden. And his age is around yours as well, give or take a year. Ignoring the bitterness that dwells beneath the surface at his net worth, you open his message, quickly replying before starting your day.

dandelion - i just simmer at my desk hoping that someday my manager would walk in and tell me my salary has doubled. unfortunately hasn’t happened yet :( 3

  Your day is busy, most of it spent away from your phone as you try to diminish the caseload. Despite it being the middle of winter (and it actively snowing daily), work hasn’t stopped in the slightest. Clients call to complain about their invoices, calls from other attorneys wanting to speak with certain individuals, your workload barely dented due to the endless notes you had to take. By the end of the day, you’re exhausted, body seemingly moving on its own as you slump into the train seat. Luckily you made it on before everyone else, bodies squishing into the car. You hold your bag close to your chest, finally open your phone. A message from this morning, about five minutes after you sent yours, sits in your inbox.

yulips - overworking employees is neverending, especially in the legal sector. i can count on one hand how many times i’ve been praised while working as an undergraduate at a firm. pretty positive the place is closed now though, so maybe that’s a plus

“Ah, so you were a lawyer?” You murmur.

dandelion - EXACTLY. weary as hell even now after my long day

You don’t expect a response right away, about to put your phone into your bag. It vibrates almost instantly, the night sky profile picture glowing on your screen. So he’s around to talk, then?

yulips - if you’re up to it, i can take you out myself to get some fresh air.

dandelion - you don’t even know my name, yulips. why would i agree to go out with a virtual stranger? you silly man

yulips - messaging isn’t really my thing, i guess. but if you’re not comfortable with meeting me right away, it’s fine with me. i still want to speak with you. hope this will make you feel better.

Another notification appears above his messages, your brow raised.

Yulips has sent you funds. Please review before accepting.

You gasp loudly, people on the train turning around to look at you. Apologizing profusely, you sink further into the seat, feverishly typing back to him.

dandelion - why did you send that??

yulips - i like you. and i want you to know i’m serious about continuing to talk to you. we can meet whenever you’re comfortable.

The amount of money he sent is enough to pay a month’s rent on your apartment, with a little left over. Your nerves rise, wariness creeping in. He’s verified, but he could be a creep. This website can only find out so much about these rich people. You could be setting yourself up for something horrendous. This was all silly, in the beginning. You didn’t think you’d get this far in communication with someone. Having that much money sent to you because he felt a little bad? Your mind just cannot comprehend it.

dandelion - this is too much.

You continue to stare at the amount, another message popping up.

yulips - you deserve it.

You cannot accept it. Not now, at least. Not until you speak to him more.

dandelion - how about i let it sit there until we learn more about one another? i know you’re serious, but i’d like to get to know you before anything else.

yulips - fine by me, my dandelion.

...

Weeks pass, the amount still sitting in the app. He’s quite hilarious - more often than not he messages you throughout his meetings, describing to you how exhausting it is to pretend to care. But he also tells you things you’ve never though of, how his business works from the inside, how his employees hide things despite him knowing of it. How he’s passionate about his work and wants the best, but doesn’t want to diminish the quality of his work for gains. He’s interesting to speak to, most of your day spent dwelling on how he’s doing. It’s humorous, being attached to a stranger through an app. He calls you his dandelion each time you message, teasing responses back and forth.

He hasn’t sent anything else since that initial amount, nor has he brought it up. You’ve been staring at it in your inbox, still debating on whether to accept it. The payment for your apartment is coming up soon and you can afford to pay it now without his money, but you’ll be living on scraps for the next two weeks until your next paycheck.

You sit on the park bench, scarf and hat wrapped around you as you message him.

dandelion - have the other people you've spoken to refuse to accept the money you gave them?

As always, his response is quick.

yulips - no.

You bite your lip, thinking. His chat bubbles appear.

yulips - i’ve sent money to two others. but we haven’t spoken as much as i speak to you. once they accepted the initial amount, they never contacted me back. it’s their prerogative, of course. but i made this account for more than just that.

dandelion - why did you make this account?

yulips - i was lonely.

Knowing him, or enough of him now, the message makes your chest tight. Loneliness holds every hostage, even completely different classes of wealth. Money does make people happy, it would make you happy. But rarely does it ever bring in true companionship. You don’t doubt that he’s been used often. You snort, rolling your eyes. Who would’ve thought that you would feel bad for someone like him?

dandelion - why did you send the money to me almost immediately then?

yulips - im used to being ignored, i guess. ive grown used to others asking that it was just an automatic response to send it to you. i apologize if it was offensive, that's not my intention. i just want you to stay around a while.

dandelion - did you think i'd leave, do you think i’m less than you because i don’t have the amount of wealth you do?

yulips - no.

yulips - never.

yulips - i’m not one to judge someone based on their economic circumstances.

yulips - and i don’t think you’re using me if you were wondering that. everyone falls on hard times, especially now. i wanted a friend, and wanted to help someone if i could. i didn’t realize how much we would speak. and that money is there for you, my dandelion.

You open your inbox, staring at the options. You do need it, whether or not you can admit it to yourself. You press accept, immediately getting a notification from your bank that money has been deposited in your account. He messages you back promptly.

yulips - that’s my girl.

...

“This is stupid,” you murmur, rubbing your sides. “Why am I nervous?”

“You’ve been talking to this guy for over a month now, y/n,” Mingi points out, a lollipop resting between his lips. “And you have no idea what the hell he looks like except for his neck and hands. I would be shivering in my boots if I were you.”

You look at him, frowning, “You’re supposed to make me feel better, asshole.”

“I’ll be there with you the whole time. You’ll be safe, I promise you that,” he pokes your side. “I’m serious. Just tug on your hair twice and I’ll save you from the creep.”

“He’s not creepy,” you roll your eyes.

“Then what’s there to worry about!” he stands, tucking in a strand of your hair. “If he’s not an ass, then you’ve hit the jackpot. And he’s the same age as you and not an old man?” He whistles, hand resting on his hips. “At least you don’t have to deal with wrinkly di–”

You slap your hand on his mouth, scowling. “This is not a sex thing. It’s a I-need-your-money-or-else-i’ll-be-forever-in-debt thing. And if you’re going to act like this then I’ll just ask Hongjoong to come along instead. At least he’s somewhat normal.”

Mingi gasps, eyes wide. “Hongjoong? Over me, your best friend?”

“We’re best friends? News to me!”

“Ha ha ha, you’re hilarious.”

Your fingers play with the edges of the outfit, knowing that Yunho’s money paid for it. In fact, he picked out the outfit based on photos posted on your profile of things you enjoy. He actually chose it well, the fabric resting against your skin comfortably. You didn’t dare look up the price of it, Yunho sending the clothing through a feature in the app. It fits you too well, even. MIngi nudges your shoulder, pulling you out of your lurking thoughts.

“I’m here for you, y/b. You know that, right? I’m joking. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” you nudge him back, grabbing your bag. “Ready to go?”

...

The venue is expensive. Neither you nor Mingi ventured out into this neighborhood, the window displays of clothing enough to turn you back around. Everything dripped in wealth, from the people walking down the sidewalks to the streetlights wrapped in holiday decor. Mingi kept his thoughts to himself, but you could see the worry in his eyes as he parked. Yeosang, his partner, was to meet him at the restaurant and dine with Mingi, keeping a watchful eye over you. You get out of the car, tugging down your shirt as you make your way to the front. Pausing, you look back at Mingi.

“You don’t have to.”

He holds up his hand, stopping you. “I wore my fancy clothes for tonight. I’m not bailing out now.”

“I’m being serious,” you place your hand on his shirt, stopping him. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of me.”

“And I’m serious, y/n. I’m not leaving without you, and I’m staying here with you. Don’t worry too much, and enjoy the rich guy.”

Explaining to Mingi that the “rich guy” feels like more than that to you would be pointless, so you merely nod. You enter first to not be seen with him, telling the hostess your name. Yulips told you that it would be reserved under dandelion. She smiles brightly at you, gesturing to the stairs behind her. It’s sectioned off, a reserved gate blocking everyone else from entering. You take a breath, thanking her and following. Taking a quick glance back, Mingi looks up at you with worry as he’s guided to the main hall. You nod at him in encouragement as he disappears from your sight.

Well, so much for him keeping an eye on you.

Your phone vibrates almost immediately, his icon popping up.

mingi - i should’ve known he would reserve a WHOLE fucking floor !!!! oh my god i hate rich people.

y/n - it’s fine, i’ll message you if anything is up.

mingi - still taking you home btw, i’ll wait in that car all night until i see you coming out…!>!>!

y/n - love u :(

mingi - :*

As Mingi said, the floor is empty aside from one table already lit with candles, a small salad resting in front of each side. You thank her as you sit, hands sweaty. He hasn’t messaged you at all today aside from a quick morning text, telling you how excited he is to see you. You doubt you’d be stood up, but what if this is some experiment for him? He is who he says he is from the website verification, but something could happen. You just don’t know.

“My dandelion?”

A man speaks up behind you, oddly familiar in tone. You stand, a small smile on your lips. It drops upon meeting the eyes of the man there. His eyebrows furrow, lips parting as he looks down at you. He holds a bundle of dandelions and tulips in his hand, fingers tightening around the stems.

Both of you speak at once.

“Yunho?”

“y/n?”

“Are you…” he trails off, looking down. “It makes so much sense now, hell.”

“How does this make any sense, Yunho? How could you be him?” You dig through your thoughts, finding nothing hinting at him being the same as the man you’ve been communicating with for weeks now. You open the app, immediately digging through the photos. You pause at the profile picture of him holding tulips. Never in your life did you think you would run into him on a sugar baby app. But you can see it now. The small necklace he wears with his birthday in roman numerals. He’s worn it since you’ve known him.

Knew him.

“I didn’t think it would be you,” he admits softly. “I saw the photos and thought that you two looked similar, but when we were together, you rarely took pictures of anything. I just, I didn’t know.” He looks around. His brown hair is longer now than before, more toned than the freshman college student you remember. There’s a bit of a shadow on his cheeks, ears red as they always are. His suit is expensive from just a mere glance, fitted and tailored to his body. He looks… good. You just didn’t think you’d be seeing your ex-boyfriend right now.

“Should we call it a night?” he asks after a moment, eyes flicking to yours. “I don’t want to force you into whatever this has turned out to be.”

Without another word, you turn around, sitting back at the table. Yunho seemingly freezes at your actions, before walking around the table, slowly sitting down. He places the dandelions in the vase to the side of both of you, swallowing slowly.

“Are we really going to do this right now?”

You shrug, taking a sip of the wine in front of you. “I don’t know, are we?”

“Hello Mr. Jeong and miss, what can I get you started with?” The waiter comes, interrupting the conversation. The frustrated look disappears off Yunho’s face.

“Whatever is easiest,” Yunho nods, and the waiter bows, quickly disappearing. You notice a kitchen on this floor, several staff inside cooking whatever Yunho has prepared. You look at him, his gaze stuck on you when you meet his eyes.

“Kinder to the staff than me,” you note, taking a small bite of the salad.

“I’ve been nice to you this whole time, y/n. Nothing that has come out from my mouth was foul.”

You merely snort, taking another bite of the salad, “Sure.”

The conversation ceases, quiet chewing the only sound heard from the two of you. Yunho seems to be stuck in his thoughts as are you, his gaze glued to his food. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, no, but it is strange. Sitting in front of your rich ex-boyfriend in an outfit he picked out for you. It’s silly even, the odds not in your favor in the slightest. The universe deciding that the two of you need to see each other again.

No matter the circumstances.

The waiter comes back soon after the lull in conversation, nervously placing down the plates in front of the two of you. You send him a warm smile and his body sighs in relief, leaving you two alone. Confused, you look up from your plate at Yunho. His jaw is tight, brows furrowed as he takes a bite of his food. Ah, perhaps the waiter thought Yunho was irritated with him.

“You could at least pretend to be nice,” you mumble, slowly taking a bite. You can only hold back your moan at how good the food is, trying to stay as neutral as possible in front of him. “The guy thinks you’re pissed off at him.”

His brows relax for a moment, a slow breath escaping him. “Why are we doing this?”

“You offered me dinner, Yunho. I’m not going to deny that.”

Your stomach twists the more you look at him, the pity only growing in size. You planned on marrying the man in front of you, planned your whole life out together. And now each time you look at him you think about the tears, the heartache.

“This isn’t good for either of us,” he says. “How the hell am I supposed to have a normal dinner when I’m sitting at a table with the girl who broke me?”

You scoff, “I? I broke you?”

“Did you forget you were the one who called everything off? You ended us.”

Your grip around the fork tightens. “I had to end things because you just didn’t care about us.”

“That’s not true--”

“Yunho, you were never home. Every fucking night I slept in that bed alone. I tried to make things work, I did. I dealt with that for years because I wanted you to be successful. I made you breakfast in the morning you didn’t eat and dinner in the evening you said you were too tired to swallow. I went to your study room and sat with you in silence because that was the only time we could spend together. I tried for you for years, but you didn’t try for me. I ended things because it seemed like I was the only one putting effort in for us. So I’m sorry that I want to enjoy a meal I can’t ever afford despite sitting at the table with the man that broke me. Not the other way around.”

His chopsticks hover over his plate, eyes glued to yours. There’s little anger in them. Yunho has always been an open book when it came to his feelings. The slight downturn of his lips, the focused gaze. The tremble of his hands. It reminds you of the night you told him over dinner that it would be the last. How he cried over the bed you shared, fists digging into the sheets as you grabbed your things. The broken I love you as you shut the door behind you, holding back your sobs long enough to break down once you parked in front of your friend’s house.

“You didn’t tell me.”

You didn’t. At the time you were so resolute in your decision that you didn’t bother to explain it to him. It should have been obvious, yes, but Yunho wasn’t around enough to see anything. You should have talked to him. The exhaustion of the situation was too much at the time for you to care about his feelings anymore.

“I know,” you say simply, taking another bite. “And if it means anything, I’m happy.”

“For?”

You look up at him. “I’m happy you’ve made it to where you are now. Those long nights led to something amazing, right? That’s all that matters now.”

“y/n–”

Your phone vibrates, your eyes flicking to the screen.

mingi - you did NOT update me on the rich guy ??? what’s going ON!!!!!!!!

You snort, opening his message and quickly typing back.

y/n - oh you’re going to lose it when i let you know what’s up later 😭

mingi - ARRRGGGHHHuhhhhh 🗣️

You put your phone face down, looking back at Yunho.

“Are you enjoying your meal?” The waiter comes back, body slightly turned towards you. You nod quickly, smiling.

“Thank you for your effort sir.” The waiter is flustered, rubbing his hands against his outfit as he glances between the both of you.

“Ah, there is no need to thank me miss. The next course will be coming shortly.” He speeds off, an amused smile on your face as you place your fork down.

“He’s a nervous wreck,” you point out, “What’d you tell him?”

“Nothing,” Yunho shrugs. “When I made a reservation, I told them to provide good service since I will be bringing a date. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

That could panic even the chefs in the kitchen. Especially given how wealthy he is, he could complain and ruin this whole restaurant. Surely he must know that. After a moment you grab your phone, quickly searching up his name. His face pops up in an instant. Largest shareholder of a vaguely familiar line of luxury hotels. It would take several months rent for you to even think of staying a night there without plummeting into more debt.

Yunho peeks at your screen, frowning once he sees what it is. You pull your phone closer to you. “Nosy.”

“You could have asked me.”

“You don’t seem up for conversation.”

“I’m trying to have a good time here, y/n,” his tone is exasperated now. “Were you not here to meet the man you’ve been talking with for months? Why search me up when you can just ask?”

You hold back another snide remark, placing your phone into your bag and looking at him. It’s difficult, he has only grown more handsome over the years of not seeing him. In fact, you’re quite nervous sitting here. He can ruin your life if he wants. You doubt he’d do such a thing, knowing him enough from long ago, but he could have changed. You swallow slowly, thinking.

“I was nervous to see you,” you start. “I thought you’d judge me immediately and toss me to the side once you’ve seen me. I didn’t know what you wanted from me.”

“I wouldn’t toss you to the side,” he says simply. “I’ve been speaking to you for over a month, it felt like I knew you already. In the first few messages I did think you’d ask for money and nothing else, but speaking to you was fun. I presumed that we would see each other more after this. Maybe I’d get a chance to show you more than what you’ve seen around here. Help you in life.”

He doesn’t quite say it, knowing there are listening ears out and about. But he infers enough. You two met on the website for a reason. You need money, and he’s willing to provide it.

“I don’t need it.”

“Hm,” he hums. “I know.”

“I’m serious, Yunho.”

“I know.” Despite the tone of the conversation and the circumstances surrounding it, his lip curves, eyes flicking to yours. “I am taking you completely seriously right now.”

Rolling your eyes, you take a small sip of your wine. “Super.”

“Why did you join the site, then? If you weren’t in need of funds, why would you join a site for exactly that?”

You decide not to respond, eyes focused on everywhere but him. It only allows him to continue.

“You told me of your woes. How your employer works you to the bone, how you think about quitting every day that you’re there but you don’t because it’s fiscally impossible. How you wished that your employer was at least kind to you, so the workload wouldn’t feel as bad. How all you’ve wanted was a break in between the chaos to enjoy life.”

“Yunho.”

“All I want to do is provide you a chance to do those things,” he says, thanking the waiter as he places another plate in front of the two of you. He lifts his knife, slowly slicing the steak. “I’d never ask you to quit your job because you find it ridiculous to rely on someone for your funds when you’ve made it this far on your own. But you’ll be able to take less hours, maybe take a vacation or two a month. Would you not enjoy that, a bit of a pause between your headaches?”

It is all you’ve ever wanted.

You hold your tongue, his mouth continuing to roam.

“I came here to see you, but I also wanted to convince you to let me spoil you. All I'm waiting for is a yes.”

Your head is spinning as he speaks. Still, after all of this - he hasn’t changed his mind? Yunho isn’t one to lie to your face, always honest in his feelings. He takes a bite of his steak, waiting for you to respond.

“You don’t find this uncomfortable? You and I?”

He pauses eating for a moment, “It’s crossed my mind.”

It feels like you’re trying to pull out information from him.

“But I think it’s more comfortable now that we know each other.”

“Oh you’ve truly lost it,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Why would I let my ex give me anything? It’s just stupid.”

“You have yet to leave the table, y/n,” he shrugs. “You decided to stick around once you saw me. You could have left right when you turned around but you didn’t.”

“I wanted a free dinner.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” He takes a bite of his steak. “I want you–” the words drip with tension, his heavy gaze set on your lips. You watch as his tongue drags across his own, before shifting to yours – “to be mine to take care of. Is that so hard to imagine?”

...

“You’re shitting me.”

“I am definitely shitting.”

“This is just,” Mingi rubs his face, eyes wide as he looks at you. He paces back and forth, tie undone and hanging on his neck, mouth agape. “What the hell?”

“That's what I said when I saw him. What. The. Hell.” And he's still so handsome. More than ever still the type of man you fall for. Only makes the bitterness in your mouth grow. “I don't think I can go through with this, Min. I'm in over my head.”

“You are not going to deny monthly allowances to see him because of dignity, y/n. You're not.”

“This is weird and you know it.”

He laughs. “It's the best and worst coincidence I've ever seen. I mean, you walked down those stairs like you saw a ghost. I really thought I had to go back up there and beat up some old rich guy. Started to imagine how much the legal fees would be.”

“This isn't funny,” you groan, struggling to hold your own smile back. “Take this seriously!”

He holds up his hands, “Fine. What do you think? He said to message him about what your decision is right? Did he give you a time limit?”

You shake your head.

“Okay, a patient man. Good,” Mingi sits down on the couch. “What are you thinking?’ Giving him a chance? You broke up with him because he didn't pay any attention to you or your relationship. Are you willing to go through something like that again?”

yulips - i was lonely

You close your eyes, “He's around those shareholders everyday. He tells me how they exhaust him, and how he looks forward to my messages everyday. He said that I relieved him from the mess momentarily. And… and he does for me too. I don't remember how it was to not have him only a text away. He's grounded me. He's made me happier than I've been in a while. So completely different from how I felt actually being with him years ago. But it was so long ago, Mingi. He could have changed.”

“He could have,” Mingi agrees. “You just have to decide for yourself if you're willing to have a relationship with him again, platonic or not. Are you ready to have him in your life again?”

“I don't know, Min. It's so much in a night and,” You rub your face. “I just want to sleep.”

You’re thankful he’s not one to take your tone as dismissive, squeezing your shoulder once before disappearing from your sight, door locked behind him. You sink further into the couch, thoughts scattered. Yunho has never been one to lie about his intentions. Despite breaking up with him in the first place, everything else was good. He was kind, smart, and caring. He just lost himself in his work and forgot about you. Now, you have to decide whether or not to let him in again. As the person who would be giving you money to spend on yourself. Your eyes flick to your phone, sighing loudly. You can find someone else. It would just take a long long time for it to get to where you are with Yunho now. Another month of deciding to meet them, an actual stranger this time.

...

You stare at the building in front of you, the name of the hotel embedded into the concrete beneath your feet. Yunho told you to meet him after his work has ended. You opted to stand outside and wait for him, still a bit hesitant on showing your face around his workplace despite his insistence. It is quite cold, the winter breeze chilling as you tuck your hands in your pockets. Just as it begins to snow, an older man with an umbrella runs out the hotel, beelining it to you. You take a step back and he seems to quicken his pace.

“Miss y/n! Mr. Jeong has insisted that you wait inside, his meeting is running much longer than he’d like,” the man says quickly, umbrella held above you. “I am Mr. Kim, his assistant. If you please,” he gestures to the front door. Your phone vibrates, Yunho’s icon from the app appears.

yulips - please.

A bit disgruntled and worried for the man holding the umbrella, you thank him, huddled beneath the covering as you make your way inside. The lobby is grand, crystals decorating the walls and hanging from the ceilings. Several trees decorated with lights line the lobby, a large one in the center of a water fountain. Ignoring the assistant for a brief moment, you walk over to the fountain, gazing inside. The water is abnormally clear, not one coin resting at the bottom of the marble.

You’re way out of your comfort zone.

“Miss?” Mr. Kim catches your attention once more. “If you would like, you can wait in his office.”

“Ah, that isn’t necessary-”

“I insist, Miss y/n.” He takes a quick step to you. “It is not on the orders of Mr. Jeong, but I believe that you did not want to be seen around with him. There are secretaries and others still out and about around his office, so there is no need to worry. And they are sworn to confidentiality, of course.”

You frown slightly. If he were a stranger, you’d definitely say no to the offer. But you humbly agree, allowing him to guide you through the lobby and to the elevator. The doors are massive as he types in the code for the 109th floor. You tug at your trench coat sleeves, unaccustomed to being treated like this. He stands by the opening for the door to let you out, the wet sounds of your shoes echoing around the hall. Employees are out and about, bowing briefly when they see you before running off to do some task. Worry riddles your body as you watch them. Yunho insisted that you take a few days off to catch up with him. An immediate no escaped your lips. It’s the holiday season but you firm rarely laxed in work, paperwork likely piling on your desk even now. But he persisted, asking how much vacation time you haven’t used yet, and threatened to call your firm to complain.

You took it as a bluff at first, until you walked into work the next day and saw the pile of work gone off your desk, the lead partner insisting that you leave for a week after your hard work. You questioned Yunho about it but he denied all accusations with a wink at the end of each sentence. Meeting him here was his idea, but now all you want to do is yell at him for interfering with your workplace. Hoping he didn’t say too much.

Mr. Kim stops just outside an office door, Yunho’s name etched into the gold plaque. You bow to him and he bows even deeper, holding out to you a lanyard and a small bracelet. Gold matching the nameplate behind you. You panic, shaking your head.

“I couldn’t take this-”

“It is your access pass, Miss y/n,” he explains as you hesitantly secure it on your wrist. “Though the guest rooms are of course restricted, you have access to the working areas if you need anyone or anything. It deactivates when you leave, and reactivates when you enter our hotel. Simple but sophisticated technology.”

“Can I give it to you once I leave? I don’t really need this.”

He furrows his brows, “You will be around often, Miss. It would be most advantageous if you kept it with you. Mr. Jeong made sure to design it himself.”

Your eyes widen, “Pardon?”

“It is one of a kind, Miss y/n. No one in this hotel has access to this technology aside from Mr. Jeong himself. Ah,” his watch beeps, notifications flying across. “You can use the bracelet to access his office. But I must be on my way. Anyone on this floor can assist you if need be. Thank you for visiting our hotel.” Bowing again, he runs off, mumbling words as he disappears around the corner.

You stand in the hallway alone now, phone tucked in pocket and wrist heavy with the bracelet. He didn’t tell you how to work it exactly, your hand brushing on the door handle. It unlocks almost instantly, the door slightly ajar. You did not plan for this, but you enter his office anyway, the door closing by itself with a light click.

His office is unremarkable, shelves clean and free of debris, desk lined with endless paperwork. Similar to yours in a way. His family sits in a frame behind the desk on the shelves. You take off your coat, placing it on the hanger beside the door. Your eyes roam for a moment, snickering once you spot the one thing you were looking for. Age has not changed Yunho much, a shelf filled to the brim with Spiderman comics. A small figurine sits in front of them all, the iconic crouched pose of the superhero in view. You don’t touch anything though. Even if you did know him before, you still don’t know this version of Yunho.

“Correct.”

The door opens, Yunho holding his cellphone against his ears as he shuts it behind him. His outfit is similar to the suit he wore to dinner, a dark blue with a red tie hanging from his neck. As always, he looks more than handsome. A coat is folded over his arm, listening intently to the conversation. His brown eyes glance to you, pausing for a brief moment. You wave at him, a smile on your lips. He stumbles over the edge of the carpet, before giving you his back. You snicker, sitting down at the small table in the middle of the room.

“Y-Yes,” he stutters. “The reply brief should be filed tomorrow. I’ll ask my secretary to forward you the docket update. Correct. Have a good holiday. Yes. You too,” he ends the call, eyes moving back to you. “I thought you wanted to wait outside.”

“Did you not tell me to come in?” You raise your brow, growing suspicious of Mr. Kim.

“Yes, I did. I just didn’t expect you to agree. Or if you did, I didn’t expect you in here,” he drops the coat back on the chair, glancing over your outfit. “Are you not cold?”

Your pants are a bit loose, but you wore fleece stockings beneath. You point to the coat hanger, “Nope. And you didn’t have to end your call because I’m here, by the way. I’d keep everything confidential. Attorney client privileged, yada yada.”

He rolls his eyes, amusement filling his gaze. “Are you my lawyer now?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But speaking of lawyer…” You stand from your spot, moving closer to Yunho. You’ve forgotten how tall he is in comparison to yourself, neck slightly tilted back as you look up at him. “Something really interesting happened at the firm today.”

“Oh?” he avoids your gaze, finger dragging across the wooden surface of his desk. Guilt immediately riddled throughout every mannerism of his. “And what was that?”

“I walked into work today, expecting chaos since dozens of filings are due at the end of the month. And you know what the head partner said to me?” You raise a brow. “He told me that I should take the week off. The busiest time of the year, taking a week off. I laughed at him until I saw how serious he looked. I even tried to convince him to let me stay but he essentially pushed me out the building and told me to leave him alone. Very weird, right?”

“Completely and utterly strange,” he agrees. You glance to the side, the red of his ears a clear giveaway. “I wonder why he would do such a thing?”

“I thought so too, you know,” you hum. “Why would he let an employee who’s barely been there for over a year, have a week off? He was yelling at me just last week and threatened to fire me and now? Being nice to me?”

His embarrassed smile slips, “He did what?”

“Yunho…”

He thinks for a moment, “No wonder he was apologetic on the phone. I only asked for two days.”

“First,” you nudge him slightly. “You do not call my job and tell them to give me days off. Ever. I don’t care how long I work or how tired I am, you do not interfere in anything like that. You’re not my partner Yunho. That’s not how this works.”

“I’ll give you what you need since you’ll be missing days,” he says simply. “But I agree, I won’t call again unless he does something to you.”

“Yunho…”

He raises his hands, feigning innocence.

“I can protect myself. You know that well. And I don’t need…” Remembering your arrangement, you stop yourself from continuing further. You do need his money. The complicated feeling just continues to bubble inside of you. His hands rests on top of yours for a brief moment, squeezing before pulling away.

“Since you have the week off, there's no need to rush.” He grabs his phone, typing quickly. Yours vibrates, glancing at the amount on the screen.

Eyes widening, you look at him. “Are you crazy?”

“Your time in exchange for spending it with me. Fair deal, no?” He grabs his coat, slipping his arms inside. You're uttered speechless, his long arms reaching for yours and helping you put it on. “I can't wait for you to see what I planned.”

“You're a bit busy too now, right?”

His grin widens, “I took the days off. Partially. I'm sure something will come up while I'm gone. But you have me all to yourself for the next couple of days. And you're going to lose your mind when you see what I have.”

…

You stare at the motorcycle. The lights shine around it, glimmering in the garage as Yunho points at it quite enthusiastically, fingers wiggling. A small tree sits on top of the back seat, wrapped securely in lighted wires. It looked like Saint Nicholas himself threw up over the bike, red and green covering almost every surface. Even on his helmet, a Santa hat seemingly glued onto the surface. Yunho has always been an eccentric guy, but this is a bit heartwarming. You didn’t realize how much he enjoyed the holiday.

“It took me two hours to get everything secure enough to drive around with,” he crouches, finger dragging across the tightly woven wire. “My friend helped me get it stuck without ruining the paint. I’ve been stopped a few times, but nothing more than a slap on the wrist,” he looks up at you, wiggling his brows. “What’d you think?”

“I didn’t know you were a motorcycle guy, first off,” you grin, crouching next to him. “But this is cool as hell, Yun. Not cool enough for me to ride with you on it though.”

He pouts for a brief moment, before nodding. “Fine. I wasn’t going to give you your own decorated helmet or anything, by the way. Not on my mind at all.”

“No way…”

He grins widely, lifting up the back storage and digging out a helmet. Only slightly smaller than his, he holds it up in the air for you to see. It’s decorated just like his, Santa hat secured well.

“I figured that my dandelion might want to go for a ride at some point,” he says, staring at it. His fingers brush the tinsel. “Now I’m wondering if my sugar baby wants to instead.”

You scrunch your face at his works, “Never call me sugar baby again, just gagged a bit. And you know I’m afraid of bikes.”

He laughs loudly, echoing around the empty garage. Shrugging, he puts the helmets back in their spots, “I know, just wanted to see if you were still afraid. That accident still has you shaken up, hm?”

“You remember?” You can recall the night the two of you were together, seeing an accident in front of you. The man came out unscathed, the greatest luck in the world. But you told Yunho then and there you’d never sit on or ride one. He agreed at the time. It makes you chuckle a bit that significant things in your life often happened when he was around. “That was so long ago.”

“I remember everything I did with you, y/n. Big brain,” he taps his temple. “And I already had a feeling you’d say no, we’re taking the train instead. My car is a bit of a way around,” the look he gives you is sheepish. “Small walk, not too far.”

“Lead the way, daddy.”

His smile disappears in a moment. “Hm?”

“A joke, lighten up.”

“Definitely,” he murmurs. The word make little sense to you, but he turns. His fingers slip into yours without another word, pulling you along. You should protest, should tell him that you shouldn’t be seen with him like this, but you don’t. Out of selfishness is very much the reason. His hands are warm and soft, swallowing yours easily. He has always had pretty hands, that hasn’t changed. Delicate rings wrapping around his fingers, nails so neat you’re sure he has them done at the salon.

He turns the corner and you can immediately spot his car. It’s the old truck his friend gifted him once he passed his driving exam. You remembered how happy he was to own it, kissing the mirrors. You made fun of him then but secretly enjoyed how much joy it brought him. Only later did you tell him it was a gift from you. Purely because his friend ratted him out to you, and you couldn’t deny it. You were going to keep it all to yourself, knowing how he is with big gifts. The two of you struggled a lot back then, but you wanted to make him happy. And it worked.

The sex was definitely wild that night.

It looks still as old as it did back then, not much changing. He opens the door for you and you thank him, the familiar squeak and slam to force it closed. You laugh, running your fingers along the curve of the armrest. You stop at the end, staring. You etched your initials into it, telling him that it was your spot and no one else’s. Seeing it still there, though very faded, makes your chest tighten. If you partner broke your heart the way he told you you did, you wouldn’t gotten rid of that almost immediately. Him having it there, the small heart barely seen next to your initials…

You’re not sure what to think.

“Our girl is still running good,” Yunho hops into his seat, forcing his door closed. “A bit of a fixer-upper, but she always has been.”

“Maybe a run to the shop would do her wonders,” you note, looking at Yunho. “She sounds the same as she did almost a decade ago.” He shakes his head easily.

“Trust me, it’s happened. She turns on easy and off easy, just the little quirks I kept around. Makes her a bit of a heart turner, huh?” He winks at you, shifting the gear into driver. The spiderman air freshener hands on the rearview mirror, swinging as you two exit the garage.

You look at the road, the silence comforting. His hand shits on the middle armrest, palm up, hand open. In another time you’d easily place your hand in his, the car rarely silent as you two laughed and joked with one another. But it’s just different now. Still, the butterflies never went away. You continue to look at his hand, until he reaches up, placing your fingers into his. You look at him and he glances at you from the corner of his eye, his other hand wrapped around the steering wheel.

“Feels weird seeing you next to me after so long,” he admits. “No one really sits there. I drive alone most of the time.”

“That’s why you haven’t gotten rid of my name?” You joke, pointing to the door. “You could have scrubbed that out a while ago, you know.”

“Never,” his tone changes a bit. “It makes her who she is. No matter the memory. And why would I want to erase the mark you left on me?” he squeezes your hand.

You don’t say anything back.

“You have that face.”

“What face?”

He purses his lips, “The worried face. Concentrated. Your brows are all scrunched together, you’ve been biting your lip, barely focused on the road. And you’re rubbing your thumb hard enough to make a dent in my hand. You can talk to me, y/n. I want you to be comfortable with all of this.”

You stop moving your thumb.

“Isn’t this… a lot?” you ask. “Being with your ex-girlfriend in the car she gifted you? Holding my hand? This is supposed to be an arrangement kind of thing. A you give me money and I hang out with you kind of thing. It’s familiar right now. Too familiar.”

The light turns red, Yunho slowly coming to a stop. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t pull his hand from yours.

“Yun?”

He closes his eyes for a second, a small sigh escaping him. “Hold on.”

He drives through once it turns green, the road a bit quiet this time of day. Neither of you break the silence, yourself nervous more than anything else to interrupt his thoughts. Yunho has his moments of growing silent. Holding in his feelings until he had the chance to settle them himself before speaking. Right now is one of those moments. He pulls into a quiet parking garage, thanking the guard as he enters. The truck slowly makes its way to the roof of the garage. He pulls it back into a parking space, hand leaving yours for just a moment. It’s enough to make your stomach flip at the lost of contact, waiting to see what he says. After shifting the gear to P, he turns, looking at you.

“Do you want to end this?”

“Huh?”

“This, what we’re doing right now? Do you want it to stop? Is it too much for you?”

No, you don’t want to end it. No, you want to still do this with him. And yes, it’s an absolutely terrible idea. “It’s not.”

“Are you sure, y/n? I don’t want you to have any regrets. I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you into this. This is all up to you, your choice.”

“Where do you stand?”

He shakes his head, “Tell me what you want first.”

“I…” I want you.

You aren’t a talker. Another thing that broke your relationship. “I want you.”

“You want me?” His tone is solemn, but you can see the inner corner of his lips quirk. “Like hanging out? Spending time with me?” He leans forward, the truck creaking. His hand covers yours. “Fucking me?”

“Yunho!” You laugh, face heating up at his words. “I am not letting you pay me for that.”

His joyous sound matches yours, shaking his head. “It came out wrong. I was going to ask if you wanted to fuck me.”

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

“Now?”

His eyes widened, “Now? In our shitty truck?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Or second, or third. Seventh, even. The truck has lasted a long long time and seen many many things.

Yunho moves with swiftness, hand reaching down the side of his chair and throwing the seat back. A loud crack echoes around the car, oh shit falling from his lips as he climbs in the backseat, hand gripping yours to follow. You do, giggling as you struggling to make your way over the seats. The very obvious thing to do was exit the car and put your front seats down to get back there easier, but neither of you are thinking clearly. Yunho pulls you close to him once you’ve gotten yourself back there safely, fingers gripping the bottom of your shirt. He pauses barely an inch away from your lips, soft brown eyes meeting yours. A silent are you okay in his irises. You nod, pressing your lips against his first. It’s soft, hesitant in the beginning. But then his tongue drags across your bottom lip.

"Yunho.." you mumble. His hand leaves your hips, tugging down the sweatpants you wear. His fingers tremble slightly as they touch your bare skin, a heavy breath escaping his lips.

“When I saw you in that restaurant, all cocky,” his fingers barely touched you, slightly grazing your skin. “Wanted you so so bad. Ah, so wet already,” he grins against your lips, finger pressing your clit softly.

“Fuck,” you whisper.

With the skill and knowledge of your body’s reaction, he guides your body flat against the seats, slowly pressing two fingers inside of you. A low moan leaves your mouth, and he grins, fingers curving inside of you. “You sound so pretty for me, my dandelion.” he leans to the side of you, lips near your ear. “Do you like it?" he whispers. You try lifting your hips, but he presses them down, stopping you from moving. ”I haven’t done this in years, baby. You gotta let me get you off myself.“ He makes a 'come here' gesture inside you, your hands reaching out to grip his forearm.

“Don’t stop,” you grip his wrist, noticing his pace slowing down. His lips press against your neck, teeth grazing the skin. “Yun–” His fingers move in and out of your cunt, lips hot against your skin as he bits you. You claw at his shirt, desperate to tug it off.

“How could you already do this to me?” he questions, grabbing your clawing hand and resting it against the front of his pants. Your hand cups the outline of his hard-on, squeezing it lightly. His knees buckle slightly, pressing into you. His pace quickens, you yourself burying your face into your arm, thighs squeezing his hand.

“I want you to come on my cock, pretty,” he whispers, slowly pulling his fingers out. You whine, as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. He tugs his pants down, slightly curve cock finally in sight. Yunho has always been pretty everywhere, and his cock was no exception. His finger slips into his back pocket, unwrapping a condom and slipping it over his length. He strokes it a few times, moving a bit closer to you. The positioning is awkward, your hands on the back of the passenger seat and gripping the backseat headrest. He smiles as he looks down at you, gaze flicking over each curve and corner of you.

“Yun, if you don’t fuck me already–”

He rubs his tip against the outside of your cunt, brows furrowed. Both of you know how large he is, sometimes too much for yourself to handle all at once. His eyes flick back up to you, “Okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur. He stares at you, one hand gripping your thigh and the other on your hip as he presses himself inside. You reach down between your legs, rubbing your clit slowly as he enters. Yunho was never one to push your hand away when you tried to get yourself aroused enough as he entered you, encouraging it even. Something else to concentrate on other than his cock pressed against your walls.

He fills you, a low breath escaping you as his hips finally met yours. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Still okay?”

“Perfect,” you whisper, and he laughs, a moan leaving him as you squeeze him. “Move, please.”

With one arm holding your leg over his left shoulder and the other steady against your hip, he slowly moved in and out of you, waiting until you were used to the feeling. Once a low moan escaped your lips, he picks up the pace. He moves his hips a certain angle to hit your g spot with every thrust, leaning down to press his lips against yours again. His kiss was deep as he moved his hips again, grinding against you with force.

A hand leaving your hip, he rubs your clit, “Pretty, so pretty for me.” He picks up the pace and fucks you harder, cock throbbing inside of you. You grip his shoulders as he does so, the sounds of sex echoing around the truck. After a while, his thrusts slowly grow inconsistent. “I want to come with you, my dandelion.”

His thrusts are slow and hard, hand covering your cunt, finger rubbing your clit quickly. “Come with me, please.”

“Yes,” you nod slowly and he moves his hand quicker, thumb desperately to make you come. You tighten against his cock, a low groan leaving him as he reaches his own end. You feel his condom being filled with his cum, hips pressed into yours as he lets go. He wraps his arms around your body, pulling you into his chest. The two of you sit there for a moment before he slips out of you, pulling his condom off his cock and tying it up quickly. You reach behind the backseat, a loose hoodie that he always keeps around resting back there.

Still, nothing has changed.

Small kisses to your forehead, you lift your own shirt up and throw the hoodie on, barely giving him a glimpse of yourself. It doesn’t stop him from keeping his eyes glued on you as you do so, a swat from you making him look away. He grabs the other clothing back there, sweats folded neatly. The two of you struggle to situate yourselves, laughs and jabs said to one another.

…

You look down at the fries, avoiding his big, brown eyes. Yunho decided to drive to this restaurant not too far away from the parking garage, the guard giving you two a glance over as you left it. You could only hide your face in embarrassment, hoping he didn’t notice how disheveled the two of you looked. And now here you sit across from one another, eating fast food.

“You never really hold my gaze,” Yunho says, the crunch of fries filling the silence. “Everytime I look at you, you look away.”

“You make me nervous.”

His eyes hold such adoration when they meet yours, open and true. You can barely look at him, it's always been this way. His eyes are what made you fall in love. Never have you seen any prettier.

“Cute,” he chuckles.

“I'm not cute.”

“Beautiful then.”

You cough, grabbing the cup of soda to clear your throat. “You really know how to make a girl feel good.”

“Not any girl. Just you.”

“Shut up,” the embarrassed, shy giggle spills from your lips. If you were Yunho, you're sure your ears would mimic the redness of his. “Is this your version of aftercare?”

“No, it’s yours. Remember when we were in college and we just slept together the first time-”

You cover your face in embarrassment, awaiting his next words. He’s usually quite self-conscious of speaking about taboo subjects in public. You suppose he has grown out of that phase.

“- and you told me after we were done that you wanted me to bring you to that new fast food place on the corner-”

“No…”

“And I didn’t because I was exhausted and you never brought it up again. By the time I wanted to do it we were already broken up. So here we are,” he gestures around, “About six years later, but we made it. As good as you imagined it to be?”

You look around the place. It isn’t as brand new as it was before, but you never really entered. A subconscious thought told you that you weren’t interested, but now you know better. Yunho promised to bring you here and he never did, and you yourself forgot about it. No wonder you hated looking at the sign. Your eyes flick to Yunho, teeth digging into your lip. You thought you would be able to do this with him. Able to be around him and not fall for the man. But he’s Yunho. There’s little not to love.

You just can’t give him what he wants. You can’t do this.

“Why are you looking at me like you’re about to disappoint me?” he asks, brow raised.

“We can’t do this anymore, Yun.”

He stops himself from biting a fry, “What?”

“This,” You gesture between the both of you. “Aftercare. Speaking about how we were back then, trying to fix something. We can’t.”

“I’m not trying to do anything. I want this to work.”

“We are too optimistic, Yun. Pretending like we weren't hurt isn't going to change anything. This relationship is just monetary, exchanged for services. I've talked to you about this already. Having sex with each other, I don’t… it’ll end up with us more hurt in the end.”

“I know. Trust me, I know,” he runs his fingers through his hair. “But the past month, has it meant nothing to you? Do you want to go back to what we were going to do, me sending you money and you having dinner with me, sometimes more than that. Is that all you want out of this? All you want from me?”

If he were anyone else, the answer would be a simple yes. But he is Jeong Yunho, one of the few men you've truly loved and never really got over. One that you wondered what happened to pretty often. He stands here in front of you, sweet dandelions between his fingers, vulnerable. He is now what you wished for him to be years ago. He's here. Present. Never has his eyes left yours since you've been speaking.

“No,” you say softly. “I don’t want this to end.”

“You don’t?”

“I don't know how we can be together,” you admit. “I don't know if I'm ready to be in a real relationship with you. It still hurts.” You had loved him hopelessly. But that was foolish of you then. You protect your heart strongly now.

“I'll wait for you. Anything you need.”

“That's the thing – I don't want you to wait for me. I want you to be with someone who's secure in your relationship. I'm not that person.”

“You have no clue, do you?” He laughs, shaking his head. “y/n. I've had flings, yes, but no other relationships. I didn't want anything else. After you, after us, that was it for me. I fucked, sure, but I never really loved anyone. Not like you. And I fucked it up by not communicating and being around more. I thought everything was fine when it wasn't. And you felt lonely. I never ever wanted you to feel that way, but you did. And it was my fault. I didn't get the chance to fix it, but I have you back now. Unconventionally, but you're in my life. And I'm willing to do anything to make us work. But I want you to know one thing: I won’t stop supporting you if you decide to not want all of the extra things. I still want to help you even if we can’t be together physically.”

This is wrong. Deep down you know it is. And you know that he knows it’s wrong. Both of you sit on opposite sides of the table in a restaurant he promised to take you to when you were in a relationship. It is all wrong. It is so wrong, that making another stupid decision wouldn’t be so bad, right?

“So,” you start, “We will fuck, and you will give me money, and we will spend time together. Nothing more?”

He smiles, “Nothing more.”

You hold out your hand, and he mimics you, shaking on it.

“Don’t fall in love with me,” he teases.

“I won’t,” you laugh, ignoring the blaring warning signs as you do so.

This will be okay.

It will work out.

Right?

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeRKmff2/ please can you write a fic about this i-

“ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈’𝐌 𝐀 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐒 ! ”

—a foursome with officers! gojo, nanami and choso

cw: fem! reader, smut, foursome, choking, praise, petnames, cheating, belly bulge, recording, pussy eating, blowjobs, hair pulling, size kink, multiple orgasms. 3.8k words

a/n: sorry to all my toji girlies out there (including myself) and incase you can’t open the tiktok, it’s an art work of officer gojo choso n nanami while toji is stealing something

Your heart raced as you and Toji were stopped in your tracks by a cop car. Attempting to turn around only to be stopped by another swerving in front of you. “Shit. T-Toji? What do we do?”

Watching as a tall, broad officer emerged from the vehicle’s front seat, gulping hard when the blond one’s dark eyes met yours. His face stonic as he stood with his hands in his pockets, letting out a small breath when he looked you up and down.

“Toji?” Turning your head to see your boyfriend long gone, having jumped hurriedly over the hood of the car before sprinting away with the stolen items. You whimpered to yourself, backing up when he began to stalk towards you. Yelping as your back hit a broad chest, arms situating themselves around your waist to steady you. “Careful sweetheart.”

Glancing up through your lashes to see a white haired man looking down at you with a smirk, his eyebrow raised in surprise. “Now what’s a pretty little thing like you stealing for?” he hummed.

You only looked to your feet after noticing a black haired officer speaking into his walkie talkie about a thief on the loose. Giving a detailed description of your boyfriend. The hold on your waist tightened, and you were flipped around to look up at.. a black blindfold? An idea running through your head to knee him and make a run for it.

“Don’t even think about it. I can still see you.” watching as your eyes welled with tears, your hands gripping at the hem if your shirt. “P-please don’t arrest me. I promise i’ll never do it again.” you pleaded.

The man scoffed, his hand reaching up for your face, his slender fingers digging into your cheeks, “Then tell me, what were you doing stealing?”

“Gojo that’s enough.” A deep voice demanded. Gojo letting go of you with the roll of his eyes. Your body immediately putting some distance between the two of you. Only to be met with the sight of the same blond officer finally making his move. His face void of emotion as his muscles bulged through his shirt. The veins on his hand extra visible when he gripped something on his belt.

Your eyes widened when he pulled out a pair of handcuffs, tilting his head down at you with his tone serious. “You can either cooperate, or i arrest you and bring you down to the station. Your pick.”

The third officer walked up to your shivering form before you could speak. Your body being sandwiched between the two towering men.

“Nanami sir, the male that was with her has been arrested. Although he was able to knock down three of our m-“ He stuttered when he caught sight of you, your glassy eyes practically begging him to tell his friends to let you go. “Uhm- our men sir.” He finished with the clear of his throat.

“Thanks Kamo.” Nanami nodded, looking back to you with a hard stare. “Look, kid. I don’t have all day. We already have your little boyfriend and we can easily take you.”

“Not a kid..” you mumbled. Rough hands making their way to your chin, “You’re really taking us for fools aren’t ya? Take her down to the station.” Nanami commanded, throwing the handcuffs to Choso before he was walking away, getting into his vehicle and driving off.

“Should have just been a good girl and answered him.” Gojo laughed, pushing you over to Choso who did as he was taught, pressing you onto the side of the police vehicle before cuffing your first wrist. Your body twisting and turning making him groan, feeling his dick growing hard in his pants.

“W-wait! I’m sorry! I promise i’m a good girl— not a bad one. Just please don’t arrest me.” you begged, hearing the click of the cuffs on your second wrist before you were being pushed into the back seat. Gojo looking at you through the rearview mirror. “It’s a bit too late for that don’t you think?” Allowing Choso to enter the vehicle before speeding off. Some officer.

The whole ride was filled with your tiny sniffles as you asked to be let go in all different ways. Each one being met by a stern no which had you letting out a whine.

“You’re talkingway too much for my liking.” Gojo sighed, “Makes me wanna fill your mouth with my cock to shut you up.” Smirking when that made you stop with panicked eyes.

When you arrived at the station. You were pulled through a hallway and past a room where you saw Toji. Anger on his face as he attempted to get up, scowling at the snickering officer when he was stopped by two pairs of handcuffs.

You were brought into another room, seeing Nanami already sitting there going through your file, his head turning to you, Gojo and Choso when he heard the closing of the door. “She’s still quiet i see.”

“She actually started talking, told her i’d make her suck my dick if she didn’t stop.” Gojo grinned, Nanami shaking his head as you were brought to sit in front of him. Gojo at your side and Choso leaning against the door.

“So.” The man started, clasping his hands on the desk with a sigh. “I see this isn’t your first time being arrested. Mind telling me why?”

You looked down at the glass top with a shrug, “i don’t know.”

Nanami motioned to Choso and Gojo with a nod. Choso closing the blinds of the stretch of glass connecting the room to the hallway. While Gojo pulled you up effortlessly, taking your place on the chair with you in his lap.

“Let’s try this again, mind telling me why?” You chewed at your lip, ignoring Gojo’s hot breath on your neck. “I did drugs, i drove while drunk when i was 17, i’ve shoplifted many times.” You listed shyly, watching as Nanami nodded along to your words.

“Nnh- ahh” you mewled when two fingers squeezed at your clit through your skirt, your thighs clenching as you shifted on the man’s lap. “I could do this all day.” Gojo whispered.

Nanami closed your file and slid it to the side, standing up and making his way in front of you. Stroking his thumb over your lip, “You’re really making things worse for yourself. Want to know what these records show?” He started, your eyes fixated on his body as he unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt.

“They show that you’ve never done anything wrong.” His thumb slipped past your lips, “Show that you’re just a naive soul who’s covered for her friends and boyfriend on multiple occasions.” Looking up at his eyes through your lashes. “Show that you’re simply a good girl who trusts too easily.” He finished, watching you whimper underneath Gojo’s touch on your clit as you sucked lightly at his thumb. Your eyes closing with a hum.

“Do you think you’re a good girl baby?”

You nodded, “A very good girl, officer.” you muffled out past his finger, the eye contact never breaking until Gojo spoke. “I think she deserves an apology, doesn’t she? We clearly had it all wrong.”

“I think she does,” Nanami spoke, removing his finger from your lips and replacing it with his mouth instead. Kissing you softly as his hand reached up to wrap around your neck. Keeping your head steady as you moaned into him, tongues lewdy curling around each other.

Gojo grinned widely. “The fun’s finally getting started.” His eyes falling on Choso who stood red faced in the corner, his dick noticeably hard in his pants as Gojo ushered him over. “Kamo come here.”

Your head felt fuzzy, wetness pooling between your legs as the large hand around your neck tightened at the sides. Letting out another moan when Gojo’s hand slipped under your skirt, running his fingers along your puffy folds through your panties.

“She’s soaked already.” he announced, chuckling when you whined at the announcement, your face beginning to heat up.

“And don’t worry that pretty little head about that boyfriend of yours. You’re not the only one he’s been-“

“Gojo..” Nanami warned, his lips still moving against yours. Your heart tightened, eyes about to well up with tears as your suspicions were confirmed. Choso’s hand stroked your hair, “Don’t worry about that kay? Just focus on us.”

Gojo’s fingers began rubbing small circles on your clit, tearing your panties off of you when it began getting in his way. Nanami pulled away from your lips with a small smirk, sinking down to his knees in front of you.

Placing your legs onto his shoulders before bringing his face to your dripping cunt. “Make as much noise as you’d like. No one can hear us.”

His tongue darted out to lick a long stripe up your slit. A soft moan escaping your lips when he licked another. “Tastes like fucking heaven.” Gradually increasing his pace until he was lapping at your juices, his skilled tongue feasting on your wetness while Gojo kept up his pace in your swollen clit.

Your head fell back with a mewl, bringing your hands to the blond’s hair but being stopped by the metal around your skin. You whimpered, “C-cuffs.”

Gojo groaned into your neck, grinding his clothed cock up into your ass. “Nah, like you better with them on.”

You moaned, back arching against Gojo when Nanami inserted two of his thick fingers into you. Curling them in and out directly onto your spot, your mouth hanging open in a string of cries when he began fucking them into your tightness.

Your noises were cut short by an angry red tip tapping at your lips, Choso lightly taking hold of your head to help you sit up. His cock nestled between your parted lips waiting for you to take him in.

“Atta boy.” Gojo mused, watching as Choso pushed his cock further past your lips, a soft gag leaving your throat as he allowed you to adjust to his length. Only half of his cock being able to fit in your snug mouth. Choso moaned, your tongue swirling around his pre cum tip as you suckled on the mushroom head. Bobbing your head up and down without the use of your hands to keep you steady, your tongue licking along his vein each time you came back up.

A mewl sounded at the back of your throat, the noise sending vibrations through Choso’s cock.

Your back arched as a coil built up in your stomach, your trembling legs being held apart by strong hands as your toes curled. Your hips jerking back and forth on Gojo’s lap as the pads of Nanami’s fingers pressed into your g spot.

You cried out loudly around the cock in your mouth, drool running past your swollen lips and down your chin, Gojo leaning to lick it off your skin. “Nnhmf—“ you muffled, your eyes closing as you neared the edge. “‘mf closhe.”

The three men watched as your breathing sped up, unable to focus when Choso grabbed hold of your hair and manually fucked his cock down your throat. Careful enough to not hurt you.

You whimpered once more with a choked cry, your body spasming uncontrollably as you squirted onto the blond’s chin. Him groaning into you as he lapped it all up, locking his grip on your thighs when you tried to close your legs around his head.

“Oh hoho, look at her.” Gojo teased, “Can’t stop squirming, think we’re overstiming her. Are we, sweet thing?”

You nodded tearfully, Gojo kissing and biting at your neck while you sucked Choso off. His eyes met Nanami’s, both the men releasing you at the same time making you let out a shaky breath.

“We’re not done with you yet.”

Choso moaned as he neared his release, his abs tensing under his shirt and his cock twitching on your tongue. His head falling back with a loud groan before he was pulling out, fisting his cock roughly then cumming all over your pretty face. The sticky substance falling onto your now exposed chest thanks to Gojo.

Choso’s body quivered lightly as he finished spilling, his face quickly turning red again when he straightened his head to find both his colleagues smirking at him.

Gojo grinned, “Great, my turn.” standing up with you against him, kicking back the chair before bending you over, ready to line his aching cock up with your sopping pussy.

You whimpered when he roughly spread your legs with his knee, your hands still cuffed securely behind your back as your face met cold glass.

Gojo cursed as he eased himself into you. “So fucking tight, shit.” he groaned, fucking sloppily into your pussy with no mercy. His painfully hard cock begging for a release ever since he sat you on his lap.

Gojo’s hand reached up in your hair, pulling you up against him as he slammed into you. Your back arching against his chest with a loud mewl. Gojo watched as your ass bounced with each hit of his hips, your head thrown back onto his chest as you filled the room with high pitched moans.

Your pussy clenched when he brought his hand to your tits, fumbling and groping at the soft flesh before twisting your nipples between your fingers. Pulling a cry from you at the sensation. Gojo’s pace never slowed its abuse to your tightness. Bullying his cock deeper inside you with a string of grunts.

The sound of skin on skin filled the room, your loud cries mixed with Gojo’s grunts as he tugged at both your nipples and your hair. You could feel his tip grazing into your walls with each of his harsh thrusts onto your ass.

Your breaths getting heavy as you neared yet another orgasm. “Nn—nnhg, ahh— f-fuckk.”

“Language.”

You trembled with a scream of pleasure, clenching down on the white haired man’s cock as he breathed into your neck with deep throaty moans.

Letting out whimper after whimper, your legs feeling like jelly as your knees buckled. “Hahhh— nng, close. Ahh- ‘m close.” feeling the pressure on your gummy spot intensifying greatly. “A-ahh— nnh, cumming,” you mewled, lips parted in whiny noises as you came.

Gojo groaned, “Shit- clenching down so hard on me. Gonna break my fucking cock sweetheart.” his thrusts lacking any rhythm as he too neared his orgasm. “Come one, fuck, give it to me.” he rasped.

Your eyes rolling back as you gripped onto his shirt through your handcuffs. Your short moans matching his thrusts as your pussy gushed messily around him.

“That’s it.” he dragged out, slowing his thrusts until he was pulling out of your drenched cunt. Pushing you down onto your knees by your shoulders, “open.” Stroking his cock lightly when you obeyed and spilling onto your awaiting tongue while watching you swallow. “Good girl.” as he steadied his breathing. “She’s all yours now,” he said to Nanami.

Your eyes moving behind the tall man to find Nanami sat on a chair with his cock in hand stroking to the sight. And Choso leaned onto the gray walls with his shirt in between his teeth as he did the same as Nanami.

“Come here.” Nanami husked. And you stood on shaky legs to waddle over to him. Your eyes widening at his massive cock, its girth the size of your wrist and its length the same as your forearm. Noticing your hesitation, Nanami chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

His hands found their way onto your hips as he guided you over his lap. A scared whimper falling past your lips when he lined you up with his rock hardness.

“Look at me. You can take it okay? Just be a good girl and relax.”

You sucked in a deep breath and nodded, wincing loudly as he sunk you down onto his cock. Your pussy aching at the stretch to let him in. “Ahh-“ you cried, small tears escaping your eyes as he bottomed you down onto him. Feeling his tip poking against the skin of your stomach.

“Holy shit.” Gojo whistled, “She’s fucking bulging.”

You mewled, looking down to see the outline of Nanami’s tip in your belly. The large man simply glaring at his colleague who only smirked.

Large hands held onto your ass, whispering soothing praises into your ear as he helped you grind up and down with the rocking of your hips. You began moaning as the pain slowly subsided. Pleasure filling your veins as Nanami made you ride him faster bit by bit. Feeling the veins of his cock grazing your sensitive walls with each movement.

You let out a string of loud cries, your hips arching when Nanami landed a slap to your skin. “You’re a real good girl, you know that? Obeying the men of the law. You’re a perfect one.” He groaned.

Gojo sat on the table behind you, his camera zoomed into the stretch of your pussy from the back. Nanami unknowingly spreading your cheeks to give off an even better view.

Choso’s cock prodded at your lips, his precum smearing onto your lips.

“Kamo. Don’t wanna save that for her pussy?” Gojo questioned, Choso shaking his head no with a desperate moan. “Uh uh, love her mouth too much.” Your lips parting to suck him into your throat with a hum.

Choso groaned, thrusting lightly into your mouth, his length throbbing when your tongue suckled at his tip. Nanami quickened your pace of rutting on his cock. Your noises drowned out by the youngest officer’s cock.

Your pussy clenched impossibly tighter. Creamy white covering his cock from top to bottom. Your pussy creaming his length with your clit being stimulated by its rubbing on the region near his base.

Gojo made sure to capture it all. Choso fucking into your throat and you milking Nanami’s cock. With mic picking up Choso’s moans and Nanami’s deep grunts.

Your body trembled, body filled with heat as you came undone. Whimpers bubbling in your throat and your eyes rolling back. The sound of your cuffs shaking entering your ears when your fists gripped literal air.

“Come on.” Nanami groaned, “Cum for us.”

You let out a silent breathy cry, your pussy spraying its cream filled liquid onto the man’s thighs and pants.

Choso followed not too long after you, finding it in him to force you to take all of him into your mouth with a gag before pumping his cum straight down your throat. Some of his cum spilling messily at the sides of your lips when he removed himself from the warmth.

Nanami rolled you onto him a few more times, his cock twitching within the depths of your cunt before effortlessly lifting you off of him and settling you closer to his knees. Giving his large cock a wrist circling stroke before his cock was releasing spurts of cum into the air and onto your tits and stomach with a dragged out groan.

The three of you panted, Gojo setting down his phone after saving the video to his eyes only then walking over to you with a key to remove your handcuffs. You fell forward as your body went limp, your palms feeling Nanami’s hard chest under his work shirt as you stabilized yourself.

The white haired man pressed a short sloppy kiss to your head. “Did so well.”

After helping you get cleaned up, the trio walked you out of the room. A slight limp in your step as you were brought into the main room. There you spotted Toji, who practically charged towards you. Slapping Choso’s hand off your waist and pulling you into his side. “Don’t touch my girl.”

Choso only walked away before giving you a look. And you sucked in a deep breath before you spoke, “Toji-“

“Before you say what you have to say baby, they charged us for robbery.” Kissing you softly on the same spot Gojo did. “Got any money to get us out of this?”

Just as you were about to speak, a voice echoed through the room. “Y/n L/n? You’re free to go.”

You gave Toji a tight lipped smile while scratching at your arm. “Sorry Toji.. i don’t have any. And since i didn’t do anything wrong i don’t see why i should be kept here either.”

Toji looked at you in disbelief. A smirk eventually gracing his face. “Didn’t think you had that in ya.” Watching as you were escorted out by a blond officer who didn’t even spare him a glance.

He would have to use his only call on one of his recent flings to pay the fine.

RETURN TO ME

PLAYLIST : spotify

PAIRING : thief!kang yeosang x news reporter!fem!reader

GENRE : thriller? fluff, smut, angst

WC : 14,374 words :3

WARNINGS : strong language, agro-hwa, aggression, graphic description of hostage situations/kidnapping, mention of bank heists/artifact theft, mention of firearms, absolute chaos from ateez as a heist group, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal penitration, vouyerism/exhabitionism, praise, pet names, cunnilingus, no happy ending, its giving mama im in love with a criminal tbh

AUTHOR'S NOTE : it's finally done! i've been writing this fic for OVER a year, ever since guerilla came out 😰 i hope you all enjoy and jsyk, this fic is heavily, heavily, inspired by "love letter from thief x".  

Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option. You originally wanted to write news articles for your local paper, something close to home, but it turned out that your local paper hired another much more qualified person. So, you used your degree in journalism for field reporting. 

Your first story was about a cold case being reopened, and you would've loved to do your own research on the topic, however, the teleprompter read everything for you, telling you what to say, what to do and how to do what they tell you to do. You seriously did not have any freedom. You were about ready to go on sabbatical and open a gossip blog like Perez Hilton. Then, maybe you'll finally be able to get the freedom you'd like to report how you'd like. Or, maybe you'd even put the degree you got for investigative journalism, something you think would be extremely enjoyable to you and your wallet.

But, you didn't start hating your job at the beginning. No, because it was helpful to have a teleprompter in front of you, telling you what to say while the ring light blinded you. No, it wasn't because of that. It was because you were currently trapped in a hostage situation, the news broadcast now hijacked by the criminals in this entire scheme. 

It was a classic museum robbery, and you wouldn't say you were excited to cover it, but it was different from what stories you would normally cover. It had the potential danger in it all.

But the second your cameraman and producer cut the cameras to take a break, you were left alone to your own devices until you were going to be called in again by your co-workers in the studio. 

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through social media timelines, reading the other news sources that popped up about the situation. 

The microphone you held, that did little to nothing when you spoke into it on camera, was suddenly dropped as you were pulled from where you were standing, a hand over your mouth and another arm around your waist, lugging you away like a piece of cargo. 

How was no one noticing this, you questioned. The cameras were rolling for different news broadcasts, and yet no one gave any mind to the sound of your heels scraping against the gravel road, leaving white marks from the top piece on the bottom of your heel. 

You practically screamed from behind the hand against your mouth, but the sound of all the chaos from newscasters, sirens that echoed against the buildings silenced your screams.

All the self-defense you've learned for this moment, that you pleaded never happened, seemed to disappear from your head. And you were nearly incapacitated, anyhow. The last you saw of the outside was where your team sat, and the microphone discarded on the ground, your phone right next to it with a shattered screen.

The captor pulled you around the back of the building, another holding the door open for them.

They all wore masks, some you've seen at Halloween stores. Some of them you haven't seen available anywhere. You could only assume that this has been planned years before it happened. 

Shutting the door at the back of the building, the man released you before another took over and tied your arms behind your back, and sat you down to bind your legs.

"I'm sorry." The person tying you whispered, "For what it's worth."

"It isn't worth jack shit." You grumbled, moving around in the restraints, trying to get him to mess up even a little bit. 

The other cleared his throat, "Come in, Base, it's me." He mumbled through the mask. 

You immediately assumed that this was a much more complex plan, looking as he communicated to "Base".

"You read me?" He paused, "Newscaster is secured. Video's free to run."

"Y/N, uh... Come in." Your coworker spoke through the in-ear you had, and you nearly shook. There was no way you could respond unless you were left by yourself. "Y/N, come in." Their voice got a bit more stern, a bit more deeper.

There was a loud ringing playing over the in-ear and you jumped.

A voice full of static echoed, sounding distant but close at the same exact time, "This is an official notice. We, the group known by Kyomi, require the government release the Dream Texts to us, immediately." The video that played was a deep, almost god-like voice, similar to the voice configuration that Anonymous had used many, many times in the past, "The National Treasure Museum does not have rights to own the Dream Texts, nor does the government. They are to return them to their rightful owners. You have 24 hours."

Ringing played in your ear and you began to rub the in-ear across your shoulder trying to get it out from your ear, before it fell against the floor, the ringing echoing across the walls.

"Son of a..." The one tying you up glanced at the in-ear, looking at you before kicking it away, "What do you think you're doing?"

You struggled in the restrains, the rope digging into your skin.

"Wasp, we got a breach." He called to the other across from him, swinging the bolt rifle back to his hands, "She had an in-ear. They heard us."

The other turned to you, glaring at you through the mask, which made it 20 times more horrific, "Well, what are you waiting for? Break it." The one called Wasp spoke, squatting beside you, "Killer," He called over his own in-ear, "Shut it down." 

You glared back at him, not at all deferred from your fear coursing through your veins. 

There were so many other people that you weren't aware were in the next room, dealing with 4 others. Museum staff and guests visiting the 24/7 museum alike, all being threatened in front of the barrel of a gun. 

And as soon as "Wasp" called to shut it down, it was all over in a second. 

"Meet at the van. 10 minutes tops. Grab your shit, we're leaving." 

Your brain immediately connected the dots that maybe this "Wasp" was the leader of the others, and you didn't think even a little bit that you would be going along with them until the one who tied you up in the rope swooped you over his shoulder, your legs kicking at his back.

"What about the newscaster, Wasp?"

"Bring her along, Hornet. Base is gonna need all the info we can get." He nodded to the entryway, and opened the door to the reception desk. "Sharp, let's go. We're out of time."

"Sharp" immediately stood up from his crouching position with his gun still aimed at any who threatened through the glass windows, "You go ahead. Killer and Spiral are in the next room with the hostages."

"Copy." Hornet responded, carrying you through the door, "Killer, Spiral, get anything gathered about the Dream Texts and head out."

The two across the room gathered backpacks and threw them over their shoulders, their rifles resting in their hands.

The other hostages huddled together, shaking in fear. And in contrast, you rested on Hornet's shoulder, watching them from the corner of your eye. 

Wasp and Sharp entered through the door, a whistle escaping Wasp's lips, "Let's load up, Web is waiting for us." He lead the group to the van, "Hornet, drop the newscaster inside. You know the drill. Sharp, check for trackers. Spiral, swap out the plates." 

Hornet nodded his head to the door as Killer opened it, plopping you inside, "Alright, miss, no need to worry."

You trembled like a leaf. You never, ever thought this would happen to you. You, who took kickboxing as an extracurricular in high school and actually passed the class as top student. You, who checked every glass window you passed by in your hometown. You, who was so kind but also knew how to set your boundaries. This couldn't be happening to you. There was no way. The one second you were distracted by your cellphone and it wasn't while you were working; much rather it was while you were on break. 

The rope binding your arms behind your back was suddenly met with another rope through that one, and you had to convince yourself that this wasn't some messed up shibari sex cult. Inappropriate thoughts aside, Hornet tied a blindfold around your eyes, covering any light that might've flooded in from the dingy alleyway that the Kyomi group stood in, watching as Hornet finished restraining you and depriving you of your senses.

There was a faint beeping that echoed in and out your ear. "Can's clear, Wasp." Sharp called. 

"Good. Let's head out." He climbed into the van, hitting the door to the others, "Up and at 'em, boys."

"Jesus Christ, this mask is fucking annoying." A voice called and you heard the horrendous sound of latex rubbing against one another.

Another shouted, "Dude, you're all good to take the mask off!"

"I already did, asshole!"

You wiggled around, trying to grab even the slightest bit of attention, but they all seemed too busy talking to one another to notice you using your shoulder to move the bandana up just a little to see out of the bottom.

A voice sighed, "Come on, you two. Relax. We're not out of the woods just yet."

The other voice laughed, almost high pitched, "He's just so fucking ugly. I can't help it."

There was the brief sound of pushing and shoving, before a deep and stern, "Hey!" echoed through the car, "If Web gets into a crash and we get caught because of you two, it's over."

A tongue clicked, "Yeah, listen to Wasp. He can't afford to go back to jail, guys."

"You're one to talk, Yunho!"

"All of you just shut the fuck up." The voice boomed, and you almost flinched back into the car, feeling like you yourself was the one getting scolded, even though you were the most quiet out of the others, aside from Web.

You took this moment to actually lean your head back, and angle your eyes downward, catching the briefest glance among the group.

Three sat across from you, their masks still covering their face as they leaned against the empty van, guns resting at their side. The other two sat with their backs against the driver and passenger seats, next to the other group. Aside from the one directly in front of you, you were by yourself.

One of them cleared their throat, breaking the silence, "So, what's with the newscaster? Why'd we take her?"

"Information." That was the voice. The voice you could recognize as Wasp.

The other sighed, "Where are we gonna keep her?"

"Base can take care of her." It was short, simple, but definitely not sweet. He was the leader, he was the one that told the other's where to go.

The brief sounds of sirens were what pulled your attention from leaning your head back. And the sound only made you more agitated. I'm in here, you wanted to call. And how you pleaded you have superhuman strength to break out from your ties, break the door and crawl into the street.

The car ride was long. Extremely long and painful. You could feel your bottom going numb, and the rope digging into your arms. You were sure that you had a rope burn from it. The blindfold getting all the more irritating.  But, they didn't seem to notice that the bandana was even lifted a little bit, or how you would glance at them from underneath it. They were comfortable with each other, all joking around, almost as if they didn't hold an entire museum heist just a few hours ago. Their masks were off, the weapons and items they were able to grab from the museum in the middle of the van.

Wasp slumped forward, his arms folded across his stomach as he slept. 

And when the van stopped, you nearly shook. The rain pattered on the concrete.

"We're here." Web, the one driving called, putting the car in park.

The others sighed, standing up and stretching, climbing out the van, "Shit," one of them yawned. 

"Come on, Wasp. Let's get you inside." One of them shook him by his shoulders.

Wasp looked up and took a single glance outside and was already on his feet, "Alright, grab the things. Web has to get this back to the rental company. Base already changed the plates and VIN for it."

"Copy that." They all began to pick up an item; at least one gun as well, and opened the back door to the van. 

Wasp began to untie the rope through the one rubbing into your arms and lifted you over his shoulder. He kept a strong arm over your waist and walked around to the driver side. "Web, pass me the dash cam card." 

Web immediately reached toward the device and pulled out the card, "Got the replacement one?"

Wasp rummaged in his pocket, "Here. Base got still footage while we were setting up." Passing the card to Web, he nodded to him, "Get back safe."

"I always do." He shrugged before driving off.

Wasp sighed, looking up at the sky as the rain fell into his face, "God, I hate rain."

You wanted to make a stupid pun about wasps and their aggression, but your throat was so dry, you believed even speaking a little bit would cause your trachea to crack.

The mud gushed around his feet as he walked and opened the door to what you assumed was their base. 

"Welcome back, Seonghwa." A soft voice mumbled, "Who's this you have with you?"

"Newscaster." He dropped you down onto a couch and pulled the blindfold from your eyes.

It took a moment before your eyes could adjust to the dim lighting, and you felt 8 different pairs of eyes on you. The ones you saw in the museum had their masks either in their hand or on top of their heads. It was hard to believe that these people were so ready to show their faces to you.

And the two you haven't had the pleasure — you use that loosely — to meet yet, sat across from you, large computer monitors on top of two separate desks that looked just a little too large for the room, watching your every move.

Your breath began to quicken, your lungs beginning to constrict on every other breath. It didn't begin to hit you that you were obviously very much kidnapped, until you began to look around for any hint that maybe this was all big nightmare. 

Wasp, or now known as Seonghwa, bent at the waist and looked into your eyes, "Tell us what you know."

You've seen movies like this; the main character ends up kidnapped for knowing too much and when asked for the information they know, they always respond with the stupid words of "where am i?"

But honestly, you didn't really care where you were, you just wanted to get home. You wanted to lay in your bed and cuddle up in your covers. 

"Just about as much as everyone." You mumbled, shrinking under Seonghwa's stone cold glare, "I know that you want the Dream Texts, and I know that your groups name is Kyomi, and that there's 8 of you, only 6 of you going out on missions." You looked up at the man in front of you, shifting uncomfortably, "And I know that you don't kill."

The blonde male in the chair nodded, "She's good." He chuckled, pointing at you, "You actually know a lot more than others."

"I spend a lot of time reading about you guys." You mumbled. 

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "All that information is on the internet?" He turned to the others, "Yeosang, do something about this."

The blonde male in the chair spun around and began to type quickly on the keyboard. 

You could only watch and listen, feeling uncomfortable as another member sat beside you and placed his arm around the top of the couch.

"Yeosang's our eyes." The other member whispered, "And the other one is Mingi, he does all background work for us."

Mingi waved sweetly, in contrast with the dim lighting of the room.

"Okay..." Yeosang mumbled, "Well, there are other news sources giving background to the group but it doesn't look like they know anything about us, personally." He rubbed his bottom lip, "There's not much to do aside from let the tabloids run their crazy little course and let them speculate."

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "Son of a bitch," He pushed his hair back and sighed, "Yeosang, keep an eye on those articles and make sure that anything slightly close to our personal lives gets taken down."

"Aye, aye, sir." Yeosang nodded. 

You briefly made eye contact with Yeosang, before looking down at your lap, "Do you think I'll be able to go home soon?"

Seonghwa looked at you like you were crazy, "You think you'll be able to go home now? You've seen our faces, you know how we sound." 

The realization hit you all too late. There was no way you were going to be able to go home after everything you've been through. Like Seonghwa said, you've seen their faces. You've heard their voices. They had no collateral to the fact that you wouldn't say a word. And they definitely weren't going to risk some feisty newscaster giving away what they were doing anytime soon.

"You're right." You chuckled softly, "God, I'm such an idiot." You weren't generally speaking about your current situation, more rather this whole evening. You were distracted, you were caught unawares. And now, you were trapped in a situation that you didn't ask to be in. 

"Wooyoung, San, get her something more comfortable than those ropes." Yeosang called, and the member that sat next to you and the other across the room stood up and wandered off to the back of the shack... house, whatever it was.

Seonghwa looked around, "What are we gonna do with her?"

Yeosang shrugged, his demeanor almost changing in that instant, "I'm not the one who brought her here." 

You furrowed your brows, "You guys don't even know what to do with me and still brought me here?"

A brown haired member with a gentle smile and soft eyes chuckled, "Seonghwa didn't think it all the way through."

"Shut up, Yunho!" The latter scolded, "So, who's gonna give up their bed?"

"Definitely not me." A shorter male shook his head, "My back's still messed up from that heist in the city."

"That's always your excuse, Hongjoong." Yunho rolled his eyes, "I can't give up my bed because I made the perfect ass dent to fit me."

"That leaves Wooyoung, San, Jongho, Mingi,"

"Just let her sleep down here." Yeosang shrugged, "I'll be down here most of the time anyhow."

"Dude, you get zero sleep." Mingi chuckled, shutting off his computer, "Speaking of, I'm gonna head up now. Great job today, guys. G'night."

San and Wooyoung immediately came strolling down the stairs, a pair of silver cuffs in their hands, "Found something!"

"Give them here." Seonghwa called, holding his hand out, using his fingers to motion them towards him. And one of them placed the cuffs in his hand, "Keep her down."

The two hold your shoulders against the couch cushions as Seonghwa used a pocket knife he pulled from his pocket to cut through the rope, forcing your arms to the side and locked the cuff around your left wrist, and the other cuff around the arm of the couch. 

Sure, it felt better that you were out of that rope, but with the pinching cuff around your wrist, it made it almost worse.

You sighed, rolling your wrist around, as you finally had circulation returned to your wrist. 

Seonghwa sighed, "There." He grabbed the two spare keys and tossed them to the other at the end of the desk, "Keep an eye on her."

You could feel your hand go numb as the blood began to rush back to your fingers, "This is not ideal, but it's better than how it was." You mumbled to yourself, using your thumb to crack your stiff fingers.

Yeosang sighed, spinning around in the chair to continue using his computer, "So..." He whispered. "I know they said you're a news caster, but what station do you work for?" He asked softly, clicking on different links on his screen.

You cleared your throat, "I, uh, I work for STVU. I do field... field reporting." You swallowed roughly, feeling your throating drying up more as you spoke, “They decided it was easier-“

Yeosang chuckled, “All I needed to know was the station.” He pulled up the news website, playing back the live feed. “These your coworkers?” Yeosang motioned to the screen.

Nodding your head, you looked as they stood in silence and you could already imagine the teleprompter moving before their eyes, the producer nodding them to continue. You could imagine the shock from them calling on you, and finding your producer picking up your now shattered cell phone on the ground as the hostages continue to file out of the museum. 

Yeosang tapped a pen on the desk, “Looks like the missed out on the money shot ‘cause you weren’t there.” He chuckled, exiting the full screen, “They really depend on people of your career.”

You coughed lightly, “So, what’s the point of keeping me here? If they depend on me so much, what’s the point?” Yeosang turned around in his seat, using his legs to roll over to you on the couch, “Because it gives us an upperhand.” He smiled, almost sinisterly, grabbing your free hand, “It gives us a huge hand. Return the Dream Texts to the most loyal group, Kyomi, or we kill off the newscaster.” He chuckled, looking up at you sitting on the couch, fear brushing your brows and forehead in the form of sweat, “But, you already know we don’t kill people.” He laughed, pushing across the floor back to his desk, “Or, do we?” He began to type on his computer, “I mean, if we did, it’s not like anyone would find out. We have this disposable land, buried under these old junker cars. If we did kill anyone, we’d bury them under those junkers and call it a day. And, the dead can’t speak.”

The way he spoke about it made you wonder, have they really never killed anyone? Have they really, honestly, never did what he spoke about?

Laying down on the couch to calm your anxiety never really helped; In your everyday life and in this situation now. Normally, you’d come home from work and eat, drink, and then lay down on the couch until you passed out from exhaustion, but here — here was so much different. You didn’t feel overworked, you didn’t feel tired even in the slightest, you weren’t hungry, you weren’t thirsty. You were just horrified. And uncomfortable. Your hand would normally meet your hair halfway through the night but with your hand chained up to couch arm, you couldn’t get comfortable. And the only way to get comfortable was to have your bone pressing against the bottom of the arm of the couch.

You just decided that staying awake for the rest of the night would be fine. After all, you did have a later broadcast time rather than waking up at the crack of dawn. So, staying up wasn’t immediately out of the question; in fact, it would’ve been the perfect option.

It was damn near the crack of dawn, and Mingi was right, Yeosang didn’t get any type of sleep. Not even a second of resting his eyes. He just sat in front of his computer screen, typing on his keyboard with a click from his mouse here and there. You wondered how he could do that, especially when you, personally, couldn’t sit at a desk for longer than 10 minutes before getting up and finding anything else in the world to do. You honestly didn’t know if he even got up and used the restroom, if he got something to snack on or to drink. He seemed completely entranced by his computer screen.

You assumed if you loved what you did that doing that type of work wasn’t as grueling.

With creaky steps, down came a lethargic and gloomy looking member of Kyomi, his blonde hair sticking up in every direction. He rubbed his chest from under his shirt, his sweats hanging around his waist, “Sang,” He called to the one sitting at the desk.

Yeosang only responded with an uninterested sound, typing something else into his computer, and a click from his mouse echoing around the two.

“Did you even get her anything to eat?” The other man asked, turning his eyes from you to the other in the chair.

“Jesus Christ, San, she’s not a fucking dog.” Yeosang scrolling down the page, “If she needed something to eat, she’d let me know. We’re like best friends, now, right, Newscaster?”

San looked back to you, rolling his eyes, “Are you hungry?” The fear overpowered San’s kindness, and you felt scared to even speak your mind. You were starving. You didn’t anything since before you went live on screen, and you had your entire menu for the week planned out. But, if he was offering to get you something to eat, you wouldn’t turn down the offer even if it killed you. So, ignoring every thought bubbling in your head like soda pop, you nodded.

San looked back to the one slumped over in his chair, scribbling down something on a notepad, “See? She was hungry.”

“Not my problem.” Yeosang shrugged, “Even if she was, it’s not like I had the key to unlock her.”

“Oh, shit.” San wandered back up the stairs, poking his head down momentarily, “Hold on, Newscaster, I’ll be right back!”

You sighed to yourself, sitting up in the couch, skillfully moving your arm around the arm of the chair to have it rest there comfortably. Sitting on the couch, confined to one spot brought back memories of your high school years, awkwardly sitting on your friends couch as they went to retrieve something from their bedroom, leaving you there to do nothing but play on the cheap cellphone your mother purchased for you. It felt exactly like that moment, with your “friend” across from you as they were comfortable in their room while you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb.

San quickly hurried down the stairs, a key around his finger as he walked over to you, to unlock the cuff around your wrist.

This could’ve been your moment to pack up and run. This could’ve been your out. And you would’ve done it, if not for San locking the other open cuff around his wrist, smiling as he looked at you, “Now, you can get those legs moving.”

He locked the cuff around your wrist just as quickly as he unlocked it, making it known that he’s used them for something of this exact situation before. San helped you up off the couch and steadied your wobbly legs as you stood.

“Sang, I’m going to make breakfast, if you want any.”

Yeosang yawned as you walked past, the computer screen lighting up his features and the blonde hair covered up by a black beanie, “It’s fine. It’s about time I head to sleep anyhow.”

San scoffed, “I get that you’re our eyes through out the night, but you seriously need to fix that schedule of yours. You spend the whole night keeping tabs on tabloids and news broadcasts, but they never post during the middle of the night.” He scolded, with you standing there like a clueless bystander, which you were, but you had a bit of a better idea on what exactly Yeosang was keeping an eye out for.

“Heard it all before. You say that until STVU posts all of this Newscaster’s notes on us and suddenly we’re compromised.” Yeosang stood up, stretching his arms above his head, “With that being said, I’m heading up now.” He shut off his computer and wandered over to the stairs leading up to the mysterious upper floor, “G’night, San. See you later, Newscaster.”

You lifted your free hand in a silent attempt to bid him a goodnight, or good morning in this case, and looked at San.

“He’s a trip.” San sighed, leading your cuffed hand behind his into the rickety old kitchen, “What are you hungry for?” “Um,” You shrugged, “Anything, really. I could eat anything.”

San lead you over to the foldable kitchen table that was enough to fit two, and unlocked your cuff, almost forcing your hand against the brace of the table as he locked you in, “Sorry, safety measures. You understand, right?” He smiled at you as he kneeled down to unlock his cuff, shaking his hand, “I’ve only had mine on for a couple minutes. How did you wear that for so long?”

You shrugged, looking around the kitchen for any type of impossible escape. It was in this moment you realized just how tired, panicked, and anxious you were. The late night shift was hitting you a bit too hard now, the drowsiness infecting your eyes like a sickness. You were worried for the next person to walk down the stairs, what they'd say or do. And you were anxious for your day's beginning behind these walls. Should you be worried about what they'd do to you, or should you just stick out the days and hope with enough time, you'd be let back into the world and live your days like they were your last? 

Everything in the kitchen of this shack they inhabited was rundown. There was a vent with no cover, the floorboards squeaked with every step San took across the room, and if you moved your own feet enough, you could feel the splinters covering the floor. The appliances and cupboards looked like ones they found in the junkyard just outside their front door, although you had to admit, the repair on the appliances were like no other, giving a clean finish with a bit of damage here and there. Whereas, you could not say the same for the cupboards which looked like they were living on their last leg of life; cracked wood, rusted hinges, and some even missing half, or a whole door. 

San pulled open the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, then opened the cupboard and pulled out a sack of flour, and a pan, “Do you like pancakes?” He asked, sickly sweet that made your tummy hurt.

You turned your eyes to him, nodding.

San smiled, grabbing the pancake mix from the cupboard as well, making his way to the stove to turn it on, “So,” He started, “I know you’re a newscaster, but other than that, I know nothing about you.” He looked back to you, “Tell me about yourself.”

You shrugged, “Um, well, My name’s Y/N, I’m in my 20’s.” You shrugged again, realizing now that sharing your life story to an unknown stranger who also happened to kidnap you and used you as an advantage hostage for the government to give them what they want. “What is it exactly you guys want?” You asked hesitantly, scared to have touched a nerve.

“The Dream Texts.”

‘Which are?” You made a face, and turned your palms upwards, shrugging.

“Which are-“

“Which are none of your business.” Another voice echoed, and you turned around to find a groggy Seonghwa, glaring at you from across the table, “That information is classified for Kyomi, only.” He leaned against the table, “If your view on us changes, maybe you’ll find out.”

“Hwa,” San started, flipping a pancake onto the pan, “Come on.”

“What?” Hwa immediately began to push away from the table, and sized up the other male across from him, although they were practically the same height.

San gripped the pan’s handle, “Think about it. If she’s gonna be here for as long as we’re hoping, she should get to know us. Us, personally, and us as an organization.”

Seonghwa stepped closer, glaring at him, “And why would you do that? You’re willing to lay everything on the line for a snake to share it with everyone she’s knows, if she ever does get out.” Seonghwa had San practically up against the wall of their kitchen in the shack, and San’s knuckles went white as his grip tightened on the handle.

“You really don’t want to me to hurt you.”

“Like you’d ever hurt me.” Seonghwa chuckled, his tongue poking his cheek, “If you even move so much as an inch-“

The chair to the table across from you was pulled out, and you pulled your eyes from the fight, to find Yeosang sitting there, yawning, “They’re fighting again.” He sighed, leaning on his hand.

“Do…” You paused, “Do they always fight like this?”

Yeosang moved his hand side to side, “Sometimes. It’s always something stupid.” He complained.

You looked at Yeosang just for a moment, the side of his face all too familiar for only being in this place for a few hours, his birthmark decorating the side of his face. His hair was mussed in all different directions, and there were purple bags under his eyes, possibly from his insane sleep schedule. 

You looked back to the two across the room, Seonghwa holding San by his shirt against the wall as the latter tried his best to swing the hot pan across Seonghwa's head, the perfectly cooked pancake laying on the floor, now broken into pieces.

"Oh, my pancake." You whispered under your breath, sighing, placing your hand against your belly as it grumbled.

Yeosang sighed, standing up from the table, "Alright, you two." He wandered between the two, opening the fridge, "What happened?" He pulled out a wrapped bowl of what looked like macaroni and cheese, using a spoon discarded in the strainer and then ate the food cold, not bothering to step out of the duo's way. 

The two immediately began to go on a ramble, San pointing the end of the frying pan at Seonghwa's face, and Seonghwa keeping San pinned against the wall. Yeosang looked between the two, absorbing all the information as if he was in a comedy show, shoveling another spoonful of macaroni and cheese into his mouth. 

And as the two men threatening to bite each other's heads off settled down, Yeosang turned to set the bowl beside him, "Now, doesn't this all seem silly?" He asked sarcastically, a smile crossing his lips.

San and Seonghwa continued to glare at each other, releasing each other from their grasp, just as the other members joined to watch the drama unfold in the doorway of the kitchen. Hongjoong sat at the chair across from you, and the others peeking in. 

Yeosang patted both their backs, "Okay, good. Let's continue planning our next move." He nodded, picking up the bowl and wandered out to the living room, the sound of a gentle clatter from his spoon hitting the bowl as he set it down to get into his chair comfortably. "Mingi, pull up the National Bank."

Mingi yawned, "It's too early for this." He rubbed his eyes, but nevertheless, sat down at his computer and typed in the National Bank of South Korea, "There."

From being attached to the collapsable table, and with the room being empty, you listened as closely as you could to what exactly they were planning. You heard a voice here and there asking questions before Yeosang took over, "The National Bank has a piece of the Dream Texts, and I know where it's hiding." He chuckled darkly. 

You already saw the perfect opportunity to get your ass away from here; in front of you, sat a shoddy door, with a lace curtain that must've been pinned up in an attempt to make it look not so bad. It was only a mile from you, at least it felt like it, when it was only a couple steps ahead. And you would've taken it, if it wasn't for the giant, grey collapsable table you were currently handcuffed to. You would've ran out the door, screaming your head off about the horrendous situation you found yourself trapped in to anyone who would listen. You had an idea to even carry the table on your back almost like you were Sisyphean rolling the boulder up the hill, for all eternity. 

San's voice cut through the air, "Y/N?" He called, peeking into the kitchen, his voice recognizable enough to cut your thousand-yard-stare in half, "You okay?" He asked gently, looking at your eye's connecting to the door.

You turned to look at him, your eyes delayed like your mouse as work with the horrendous input delay, "I'm okay." You nodded to him, even willing him to accept it with a gentle smile. 

"Well, alright." San nodded back, "If you need anything, we'll be in here." He smiled, dragging his feet across the floor and sitting on the couch as Yeosang continued.

In a perfect world, they would've recruited you into their ranks, having you join in on the meeting about what came next, allowing you to go to and from as you please, make your own food. And overall, have you free of the pinching cuffs and let you exist as yourself.

"Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Yunho, you two will enter from the top window, using the special forces gear we got from Jongho's truck run." Yeosang held the pen cap in his lips, as he pulled out the printed blueprint from his printer next to his desk, "That way we can get an upper hand for the Dream Texts. You three will check the top floor while the rest of you, hold the bottom floor."

"It'll just be me and Joong." San pointed his finger at them both, "We can't possibly hold an entire floor by ourselves. I mean, it took Wooyoung, Yunho, Joong and I to just barely keep the floor of the museum clear."

Yeosang smiled a bit more sinisterly, "You're all forgetting one valuable hand in all of this." He cackles.

"I hate when he does this." 

How, was all you could ask yourself. How is it possible to be in this situation again? The cramped van, the uncomfortable ropes and the barrel of the pistol pressed against your temple. And it happened to be the only nice member holding it there. You were blindfolded, and you wouldn't be surprised if you were dead already. This all had to be some type of nightmare.

Despite being the very valuable part of this plan to get into the bank, you were the one that was once again at the end of the barrel. When you learned that you'd once again be placed in that terrifying position of playing a hostage, Yeosang spoke with almost a chuckle, almost like he liked seeing someone under duress. As well as the others. 

All this for some stupid writing? All this for Dream Texts. It was hard to believe you'd be forced to stay with them. 

Jongho, who you learned was Web, after connecting the dots, was driving around the city in a car that was a little too small for the group. You were aware of all the codenames at this point. Wasp was Seonghwa, Hornet was San, Killer was Hongjoong, Sharp, Wooyoung. Spiral, Yunho. And Base was Yeosang and Mingi. 

You knew their plan, and their means of getting to the oh-so desired Dream Texts, which you still had no idea what it was about or why it was so important to them. The only thing you could think of was National Treasure, the Nicholas Cage movie, which was, in it's entirety, about a treasure map on the back of an official government document. Maybe that's why they want it so bad, you thought, for money and fame.

Jongho stopped, dropping off the five in front of the National Bank, one you attended since you began your adult life. It had a bittersweet nostalgia, the building. It was where your family was charged foreclosure. It was where you cashed your first check after a successful month of your career. It was where you paid the down payment for your family's new house, after living with family for years. 

Some would say you had a humble upbringing; learning the importance of money and paying dues where it's needed. You would say you had a difficult life. Getting a job as soon as you could, paying for your own high school expenses, and funding your own college education and tuition. You were constantly stressed out, and even now, with a steady job, you were considered a workaholic, but who could blame you? Cause and effect is what you normally pushed it off with. 

Seonghwa, Yunho and Wooyoung split off from San, who gripped your arm tightly, and Hongjoong. They all had their weapons around their shoulders and masks that covered their faces, that you weren't even aware they had put on. The masks were different from what you had first seen, this time, they all donned balaclavas, unlike the clown masks you've seen them in previously. 

You were still blindfolded, a sound of a shattering glass echoing through the sky, San tugging you along into the building.

You were aware that you, in this situation, were a hostage again. You weren't sure if this is where you died, or if they'd take you with them again. So, you tried to settle the pit that lingered in your stomach as San shoved you onto the floor, a ray of bullets echoing through the air and a loud yell of "get down!" interrupting the fire. 

You felt that anxiety and impending doom creep into your chest again, your brain shifting gears back into fight or flight. After all, you were nothing but an accessory for them to use. Your life, to them, had no meaning. They could preach that they don't kill all they would like, but they would actually have to take responsibility for their actions of causing psychological damage to others.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, raising his voice, "We are Kyomi! We require the Dream Texts. Who here is the bank manager?"

A woman shakily raised her hand, and looked around anxiously. 

Hongjoong motioned for her to approach, and when she was close enough, Hongjoong gripped her arm and looked her in the face, "Open the safe, and don't try anything funny." He whispered. 

You used the linoleum floor to push the blindfold from your face, catching sight of Seonghwa and Yunho standing on the second floor, their guns positioned at the back of the victims. It almost looked like they were ready to shoot. 

Hongjoong lead the bank manager around to the safe at the back of the building, where she opened it with shaky hands. Then a shot was rung out.

The desk someone sat at was completely destroyed, the sight of Seonghwa glaring through his balaclava. 

"Every one of you to the center floor now!" Seonghwa shouted, and people began to shuffle towards yourself and San. From the position Seonghwa was in, it was obvious he could see the entire floor. 

Hongjoong returned with the bank manager, a plastic wrap tucked into the vest he wore. "That wasn't so hard, was it? And no one got injured." He chuckled, returning the bank manager to the group that sat on the ground floor.

Hongjoong spoke clearly, "Secured. Web, whenever you're ready." His hands rested on the gun, and looked into the faces of the victims; some were teary eyed, some were angry and some were avoiding their eyes. 

You looked into the eyes of one, sympathizing as their eyes watered in terror.

This. This was your out. 

You opened your mouth as San began speaking, and didn't mutter a word; just mouthed it. Using your eyes to motion them to look at Hongjoong, you mouthed the instructions. And they only furrowed their brows, shaking their head, scared of even the possibility of getting injured. 

If anyone was going to be able to end this, it had to be someone who could fight back. And there was more than enough to take the fight between the four invaders. If they had the possibility of saving everyone, even yourself, they should take it. They would be reveled as heroes; people who saved the hostages of the National Bank. But, no one would take the risk. They all had families, friends. People they loved. Creatures they loved. They wouldn't risk it. 

If you were to be the one to sacrifice, they would do it. Because the blood staining their hands wasn't as bad as leaving the ones they loved. 

You assumed Jongho must've responded to Hongjoong's call. San was quick to pick you up off the floor by your restrained arms and drag you out of the building. You looked around for any type of exit to get away from them. Standing around was just as bad as doing what they were. But, once again, like every chance before, they had nearly every corner blocked off. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Yunho were walking from the back of the building around the corner and Hongjoong opened the door for us all, before you got thrown in the back just like before. 

You anxiously watched the hostage all relax, and you begged, pleaded for a way to feel that comfort, of being able to relax. Not constantly feeling like you were under watch by these monsters. Jongho drove off as everyone sat in their seats, taking the initiative to drive away from the building, and as you drove off, you saw the police round the corner, and everyone filed out, some falling to their knees from fear. 

You wished to feel their fear. And the rush of being alive after a five minute standoff with five villains. You were oddly surprised that you could feel fear this intensely through your bones, despite being with them for a day.

"Now, you're one of us." Wooyoung chuckled.

You looked at him, your brows furrowed, "What?"

Seonghwa turned from the front seat, looking at you, "You've committed as much a crime as we had."

"Again, what?" Your teeth grit, "I was kidnapped. I was held hostage." You pointed out the obvious, looking between the men in the car, "I was an unfortunate victim in this whole situation!"

San chuckled softly, "Aiding a criminal in a crime is just as bad as doing the crime." You could already hear the condescending high pitched voice he spoke with before the words even left his lips. "You're just as guilty as we are."

"I. Was. Kidnapped." You emphasized, "By you! Those people you all just traumatized, are not the only victims." 

Seonghwa waved his hand, turning back to the front, "Someone blindfold her again. And gag her. She's getting annoying."

"You're no better." Jongho mumbled, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, "We still have a few miles to go."

Jongho easily turned into another lane, leaning on his hand as he drove.

Seonghwa looked back at the others, "Well? Are any of you gonna do it?" 

San sighed, "Yeosang said not too!"

You completely forgot that they had in-ears wrapped around the shell of their ears, all communicating between one another. You felt out of the loop; what exactly did Yeosang say not to do? What were they communicating between each other?

Seonghwa sighed deeply, obviously annoyed as he pulled out a single of his own in-ear, and motioned to you.

Seonghwa wrapped it around your ear for you, slowly pushing it into your ear.

"Go, for Base." Seonghwa called.

Yeosang cleared his throat, "Y/N? Are you there?"

You nodded, before realizing that he couldn't hear you, which you choked out a "yes" in a small, shy voice.

"If you look out onto the road, you'll see the route back to the dump." He spoke simply, "Because of this, we have no other reason than to recruit you." His voice was filled by the keys of his keyboard, "You'll either have to pledge loyalty, or we have no other option then to keep you hostage. And, possibly kill you."

"You don't kill people." You shot back, looking at the road in front of you.

Yeosang chuckled. The clicking of the keyboard stopped, a gentle creak from his chair echoing, "We unfortunately have to finish off the ones we try to recruit that don't agree. Just a little Kyomi group secret."

The list of charges they could catch just add up; armed robbery, kidnapping, assault and battery, and murder. You had the benefit of doubt that they didn't kill, and Yeosang obviously had a heavy heart telling you what exactly they did. 

"So," Yeosang chuckled, "What'll it be? Be part of Kyomi, or meet the sweet embrace of your own inevitable destiny?"

You sighed; It was a lose-lose situation. Either commit crimes and the possibility of life in prison, or die? If you had another option, you'd take that in a heartbeat. Being a housekeeper, being an informant for the group, or just going home, would have sufficed. 

But, obviously, they cared too much about their pride to let you off the hook so easily. They cared too much about those Dream Texts that you still have no clue what they were about. They cared too much about their own safety to risk sending you off in the world.

You clenched your fist, "How do you know that I'm not in connection with the police? What if I let you all take me hostage?"

"Because you aren't that smart." Yeosang whispered, his voice tickling the inside of your ear, "L/N Y/N, graduated from SKU with a degree in journalism, which is surprising, since you only had a 2.8 GPA throughout your school career." His voice twinged with amusement. "You spend majority of your money at the convenience store and on bills. You live in an apartment complex, although I won't share the address, I know where it's located. Your social security number is—"

"Okay, okay." You stopped him, "Okay, fine. I get it." Your lips trembled as you spoke, "I'll... I'll join Kyomi."

Yeosang chuckled, "I knew you'd choose the right choice." You could hear the smile in his voice. "But, for the time being, you'll have to keep being restrained, for the safety of my comrades."

You wanted to curse at him, and let all of your aggression out on him. If they really thought they were gonna get away with this, they were sorely mistaken. 

You would find a way to report them, and you would finally be free of the wack jobs that thought it would be a good idea to kidnap you.

It's been two months since Yeosang thought it was a good idea to have you join Kyomi. And it absolutely was not. Your plan to get out of there as quick as you could wasn't working as well as you hoped, but, everyday, you spent your hours looking for a way to leave, to report what exactly happened to you.

Your face would briefly show up on the news every now and again, with your family begging for you to find your way home, as if the police force haven't already ruled you out as presumed dead. 

The last everyone saw of you was at the National Bank, where you were pulled away by the rope tied behind your back. You still feel the rope around your wrists every now and again, waking up from nightmares, hoping it was all a joke that you were put in this position. 

Nevertheless, you pretended to be on their side. Seonghwa has lightened up to you, and will even indulge about San and Wooyoung's ridiculous behavior. Mingi was back in the game, having you taking over his spot as resident hacker of the group. Those coding classes would've done you well, if you had any idea this is what you'd be doing. Yet, it seems like every time you touched a keyboard, your mind blanks on why exactly you agreed to do this.

Yeosang has everything blocked on your computer, which you believed he put on as soon as Mingi said he'd want to join the guys on their heists. 

You've been given a new identity, essentially. They didn't call you "newscaster", they called you "Centipede," which you wholeheartedly believed was Yeosang's idea, after he shared his disgust to centipedes after. You and the arthropods. 

You wore an in-ear, just like Yeosang did, and talked with the guys while they were out, and it still hits the ear wrong when they call you the name. Like they were taunting you.

Aside from the new, definitely underpaying job and the new name, you could not even begin to describe the bedding situation. You shared a bed with 7 others; all guys. You were, rightfully so, tense every time you walked in after a shower to grab a fresh pair of clothes. The beds were lumpy and you slept on the bottom bunk, shared with Seonghwa at the top, who slept like a rock, but was surprisingly easy to wake up when it was needed. A slight tap on the shoulder and he was awake. You didn't understand that when you were first nabbed by them, when he was sleeping in the van. Not to mention, he slept max four hours. Wooyoung and Yunho had a bad snoring problem, so you could rarely get any sleep through the two months, but now, unfortunately, you were growing accustomed to it. It was like white noise. And you didn't even want to start with the splinters you received on the first night; bad mistake not thinking to borrow someone's slippers.

Hongjoong, Mingi and San were light sleepers. You'd shift in your bed across the room, and the three of them were already staring at you, like you were in the wrong. San slept with stuffed animals, which was entirely uncharacteristic of the Hornet you met the first time you were brought there. 

Everyone of them were uncharacteristically what you thought; Seonghwa was actually a sweetheart when he wasn't under pressure; he enjoyed building legos, and had the ones he built sitting in the shared window the two of you had. San was an animal lover, and you had to turn away multiple strays he brought back to the shack. Mingi was quiet. He had a bunch of interests that you really couldn't keep track of. Yunho was like a giant puppy. A single bit of praise and his invisible tail was wagging like he had happy tail. Hongjoong was much more serious than the others, despite his first introduction. Wooyoung was more or less the same, but when he wanted to be, he was much too serious than what you were used to. You were used to his boisterous laugh that echoed through the house, yet he gets pulled out into the field and he changes demeanor completely. Jongho wasn't fond of praise and gratitude, in fact, he spent most of his time waiting for the guys to finish up the heists by driving around, listening to girl groups. 

The only one you could never really understand was Yeosang. He seemed much like the same as when you first met and saw him. Bags under his eyes from staring at a screen all night and all day, disheveled hair and kept to himself. You both never slept at the same time. He was the eye in the sky, and the security. He slept around the time all of you woke up, yet, he was up and at 'em not even an hour or two after he slept. Now that you think about it, there was only eight beds available in the barracks, as you like to call them, and you were the eighth. It made you think about where exactly Yeosang would sleep, and you began to wonder if he took your place on the couch to rest or if he stole someone else's bed to sleep in.

This morning started like any other; restless, tired and exhausted, and you were aware that all the words you were repeating to yourself had the same meaning, but that only emphasized your point that you were so exhausted, you couldn't think of anything else. 

Yunho and Wooyoung were snoring so much that night, you thought they might've caught a cold from the way they sounded. Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so goofy with you, the lack of oxygen to his brain during sleep.

Hongjoong woke up and wandered over to you, nudging you slightly, and you turned to look at him. "Holy shit," he began, "I think you're beginning to spend a bit too much time with Yeosang." His finger went under his eye and began to swipe there back and forth. 

You sighed, sitting up, "It's not that. They never shut up." You whispered to him, pointing at the two chronic sleep apnea patients, "I'm so tired." The exhaustion was beginning to catch up to you, and you rubbed your eyes. 

Hongjoong smiled softly, "Well, today's a rest day while Jongho tries to find a new car for us to use the plates you found yesterday. Take the day to yourself."

You sighed, nodding lightly. 

Normally, taking a rest day back in your normal life, you would have went out shopping and went to visit friends and family. Now, all you had to yourself was a walk around the junkyard, occasionally ending it earlier than you would have liked to due to a pest running rampant through the disgusting, rusted cars and whatever trash was left in there. 

And that was definitely not going to cut it. 

"I'll make some breakfast. Eat, then come back up to rest." Hongjoong basically planned your entire day for you. All you wanted to do was sleep the day away, which is something you've done a lot on rest days. 

Hongjoong wandered around the corner to get downstairs and you laid back on the lumpy bed, your head meeting the pillow in a short second. The snoring seemed like it was getting louder by the second, and you were too exhausted to even move to cover your ears.

You shifted positions to face towards the empty bunk Hongjoong left, wrapping the weighted blanket around your body, and burrowing your nose into the soft fabric, sighing as you felt your tension melt away. 

If you were home in your apartment, you wouldn't have had this issue. You wouldn't have to try almost anything to fall asleep. Hell, you wouldn't have even woken up. Tale has it, you were a heavy sleeper before you were brought here. 

Shutting your eyes and hoping for the embrace of sleep to take you over, you sighed just as the steps creaked. Opening your eyes was already too much of a labor, so you just covered yourself more with the blanket.

A sigh exited from someone's lips, the floorboards creaking as they walked over towards the bottom bunk bed and laid back. Wooyoung was directly above them, as they laid in Hongjoong's empty bunk.

"Shut up." A kick was met to Wooyoung's stomach from underneath, right underneath the bed slats. "Get a mask." They scolded.

Opening your eyes, the exhaustion was already setting again, squinting as you looked across the short distance.

Yeosang laid on the bed, the shadow under his eyes already looking worse for wear. His shirt was discarded on the floor, and his sweatpants were below his hips. He covered his face with his forearm, sighing as his body relaxed. 

Okay, so Yeosang was attractive. That much was obvious. And, what's the worse that could happen? He breaks your heart because he's too focused on Kyomi? Or, he doesn't see you the same way because he works too close to you?

You blinked as you watched his body relax, his free hand resting on his belly, his fingers brushing the waistband of the grey sweatpants.

The last two months were long. Tiring, even. But, just like you would do in high school, you'd take extra care into your appearance, even if it meant you got a second longer of a look from someone.

"Stop staring at me." 

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the harsh call, feeling your ears bleed red. 

Yeosang moved the arm over his eyes and faced you, his hair falling in front of his eyes.

"Sorry." You mumbled, "I was spacing out."

Yeosang chuckled, "You're an idiot."

The jab was meant to be cruel, but you could see the sparkle in his eyes, and the smile that crossed his lips, and oh, my god, did you hear that laugh? The way he spoke, even if it was meant to be cruel was so soft, and you know it's just how he is; his care and warmth are there, despite the harsh words that bite at you.

You rolled your eyes, curling your legs under the blanket, "Are you going to sleep now?"

Yeosang shook his head, "I never really sleep much when I get up here." He mumbled, studying the slats as if there was something there, "Wooyoung and Yunho snore too loud."

You laughed softly, "Tell me about it."

Yeosang smiled softly, closing his eyes briefly, "I wonder if it's even worth sleeping in here."

Shaking your head, you smiled gently, "It's not." It was simple, shortcut. "I haven't gotten a good night's rest since I've been given this bunk."

Yeosang's face relaxed, turning his head back to you, "Can I ask you a question?" His voice was like shoes dragging through gravel, and his eyes stared at you intently. You couldn't help but nod. "Why did you agree to stay? And why haven't you even tried to leave yet?"

"Oh, my god, you mean I could've went home?" You asked sarcastically, your eyes playfully widened. But, you saw the look in his eyes and decided that maybe it was time you opened up to him. It was your turn to sigh, turning to look up at the slats that held Seonghwa's bed, "My life was going nowhere in the job I was in." You spoke simply, "I didn't even want to work for a big news station like that. I would've rather have worked back in my hometown, but, someone got the job I wanted."

Yeosang looked at your profile, his eyes scanning the way your nose was, the curve of your lips and the long eyelashes you had. He's worked beside you for two months, and he never noticed just how enticing you were. Your eyes turned to his, his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

"Besides," you started, "My family never really checked up on me." Shrugging, you got all the more comfortable, "Everything we see on the news feels a bit fake anyhow."

Yeosang couldn't really recall his family life before Kyomi and the Dream Texts.

"We've given you so many opportunities." Yeosang whispers. 

You chuckled, "Did you really though?" You asked softly, "The last two months, I'm scared to even try to sleep." 

Yeosang shook his head, "You didn't have to be scared." He mumbled, "We've always given you an option."

His eyes were shining, the sun hitting his brow bone to give you a better look at the honey eyes he had. 

"Well, I'm here now." You responded, his eyes completely captivating his beauty.

Yeosang and you held the eye contact, not saying another word to one another. Wooyoung and Yunho's snoring filled the air between you two.

Tension, heat and pressure surrounded you both, before Yeosang scooted himself off the bed and wandered over to you, climbing on top of you over the blanket and leaned his face close to yours.

"Do you feel it too?" He whispered, his lips only inches apart from yours.

A breath was caught in your throat, and you swallowed roughly. You assumed he was talking about the sudden tension that covered you both, and you agreed. You did feel it. It loomed over your head, every so often. Now, during missions, after missions.

"You do feel it." Yeosang smirked, leaning forward to encapsulating your lips with his own. 

The dream you've had every night about him was coming true. Yeosang had a sweet tooth, the citric acid from Sour Punch Straws he frequently ate echoed against your lips. His long hair practically covered his eyes as the strands brushed your cheeks. His hands were hot against yours as he intertwined your fingers with his own. His weight was distributed evenly on top of you, basically pinning you down to the bed.

Yeosang pulled his lips away from yours, his face still centimeters from yours, "I've been wanting to do that since you took over Mingi's desk."

You blushed, feeling the blood rush through your neck up to your ears.

Yeosang's hand gently cupped your cheek, rubbing your skin with his calloused thumb, "Tell me if you want me to stop."

His lips met your neck, his tongue gently running along the skin, his hand hot against your cheek. His lips left wet kisses against you, and when a gasp escaped on a certain spot, they turned up into a smile, gently biting the skin with his teeth. 

His lips, his lips, his lips, it was all you could think about as they moved from your neck, down your chest, stopping just at your belly button, placing gentle kisses on the skin and rubs your thighs with his hands.

You were so nervous, you honestly couldn't remember the last time you got laid, let alone by someone you work with. If you remembered correctly, it was a year or so-

Yeosang had pulled your shorts off, along with your panties, smiling softly, "Look at you, kitten. Aren't you so pretty?"

God, you thought, When he calls me that, it makes me want to scream. 

His smirk only grew wider, "Do you want to continue?"

You nodded your head vigorously, already sure that you would have given yourself whiplash, "Please."

Yeosang settled in between your legs on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulders and held your thighs in place with his hands.

His hands were strong, and veiny. They were warm around your thighs, compared to the cold chill in the air. His callused hands were rough against your soft skin, his tongue a nice heat against your mound.

Your hand shot to grab at his hair as he sucked on your clit, a soft moan escaping your lips.

"Shh, baby, you don't wanna wake up the others, right?"

It was impossibly hard to think of keeping your moans back, since Yeosang was making you feel so good.

Yeosang continued his pace, his tongue dipping down in between your folds, working his fingers against your clit.

The thought of waking up the others from their slumber excited you, and almost made you infinitely more comfortable with the idea.

Yeosang kept his eyes trained on you as your chest rises and falls, watching how each movement of his tongue affected you. And when you began to groan, your legs shaking, Yeosang knew just how well of a job he was doing.

"Sang..." You whimpered, thighs threatening to squeeze against his head. 

Yeosang chuckled, using his thumb to pull the hood of your clit back to teasingly bite at it, lifting his head as you let out a loud yelp. He glanced around the room, hearing an interruption of Yunho's snore before he began once again, "Come on, kitty cat, can't you try to keep quiet?" He sat up, positioning himself between your legs, his buldge pressing against your heat, the sweats he wore staining with the wetness from your cunt.

"Sang..." Your voice was strained, looking up at him with begging eyes, "Fuck..."

"Can't get the words out?" Yeosang smiled, leaning forward as he laid on his arms on either side of your head, "Come here, baby." He whispered, pressing a deep kiss against your lips, one of his hands running through your hair just as the other tugged his sweats down, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, "Is this okay?" He gasped softly.

You nodded, "Yes, yes... More than okay."

Yeosang smiled softly, capturing your lips once more as he slowly pressed into you, the heat from the stretch as you grew accustomed to the size of his cock was painful, yet pleasurable. "Fuck, you're so tight, baby." He bottomed out, holding you close to him as he slowly moved his hips against your own. He chuckled as a loud moan escaped your lips, using the hand that tangled in your hair to cover your mouth, "Shh, shh, angel." He cooed softly as his thrusts grew faster, looking between the two of you where you were both connected.

Yeosang's cock twitched against your walls, listening to your groans and smiling as he felt you clench around him.

"Y/N!" a voice called up the stairs, and Yeosang and you both shared a look. "Hey, Y/N, are you still awake?" 

Yeosang adjusted your position so you both laid on your side, pulling the blanket over his head, looking up at you, "Pretend to be asleep." He whispered, his cock continuing to press into you. "And keep quiet."

You furrowed your brows, looking down at him before Hongjoong stepped up the stairs. Yeosang's hips continued to roll against yours, and you felt a soft whine about to escape your lips. 

"Hey, Y/N." Hongjoong approached the bed and despite your best efforts, you screwed your eyes shut, and buried your face in the pillow. Yeosang moved slow, pressing soft and silent kisses against your sternum. "Y/N, food's ready."

Your ears were bright red, the soft sounds of your wet cunt echoed against the walls. Or were you just toning out Yunho and Wooyoung's snoring? 

Hongjoong called your name one last time before he found his way back down the stairs. As if on cue, Yeosang peeked his head out from under the blanket, chuckling softly, "Good girl." He whispered, grasping your hips tightly in his hands, "You're just a good girl." Yeosang thrusted deep into you, "Gonna cum for me?" His thumb rubbed at your clit, his voice gruff and strained as he laughed at your convulsing.

"Mmhmm." You whined out, gasping as his thumb continued his assault.

"Cum for me, kitty." He whispered, moaning out as he felt his own climax quickly approaching, "Fuck, you feel so good."

As your cum dripped from your cunt, Yeosang was quick enough to pull out from your entrance, his cum coating your lower half, his gasps turning into panting as his cock twitched in his hand.

Yeosang chuckled breathlessly, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, "Fuck, baby." He smiled, holding your ankles gently to move your legs from around his hips, "I knew you'd feel good."

The action you both committed finally began to register in your brain. With 4 of the other members of the Kyomi group in the room. You quickly reached your hands up to hide your face, chuckling softly, "I can't believe we just did that." You whispered out.

"I can't believe we did that with the guys in here." He smiled, pecking your cheek before he pulled up his sweats and stood from the bed, rising his arms to hold the side of the top bunk, looking down at you, "Wait here." Yeosang turned to the restroom, grabbing a wash cloth and sitting beside you on the bed, "It's gonna be cold." He warned, chuckling softly as he pressed the cloth against your mound.

You blushed softly as his gentle hands cleaned your skin of his climax, "Did you mean what you said?"

Yeosang looked up to look at you, "You know me better than that." He mumbled, "You know I'm not one to say anything if I don't mean it."

"So, you've really been thinking about this since I took over Mingi's desk?"

Yeosang smiled, "Actually, I've been thinking about it since you got your callsign." He folded up the cloth, setting it down on the window sill, "I didn't make it up for no reason."

You pulled your bottoms up your legs, laying on your side to look at him, his arm around your hip as he leaned on his hand, smiling at you, "I thought you hated centipedes?"

"Sure. But, it's just a callsign." He shrugged, "It doesn't mean anything." He used his other hand to cup your cheek.

"Okay, sure." You rolled your eyes, smiling at him, "You must've had a lot of fun when taunting me."

"Sure did. Why? You liked it?" He chuckled, pinching your cheek between his fingers.

"Maybe I did."

"Bet you did."

"Yeosang!" A voice shouted up the stairs, and Yeosang was quick to move from where he sat, rushing down the stairs.

You could feel your heart racing in your throat at the urgent call and was about to follow until Seonghwa quickly dropped down from his bunk, "Stay here, Centi." He patted your shoulder as he moved around the room, waking up the remaining members, who also were quick to stand up.

Wooyoung and Yunho, who were formally snoring, furrowed their brows as they stood up. San shot up at the sound of urgency in Seonghwa's voice. 

"What's happening?" Your voice trembled, watching as the three men walked by, "Seonghwa, what's happening?"

Seonghwa almost made it past, before he sighed, "You wouldn't understand." He grumbled, "Just stay put." He continued down the stairs, skipping each step as he moved, "What's happening?"

The voices all blurred together, your feet slowly moving down the steps before you sat down just out of view.

"The cops are on their way." That was Hongjoong, "Mingi just confirmed with the scanner." You could hear the shaking of his voice.

"Jongho isn't back yet." Seonghwa glanced amongst them all, his arms crossed, "Meaning our means of leaving are pretty low."

"We could hide in the junkyard, couldn't we?" San whispered. 

Seonghwa rubbed his temples, "That's fucking stupid, San."

"We have 30 minutes to either pack up and get out of here, or 30 minutes to find a way to stand our ground." Yeosang grumbled, the echo of the mouse clicking between them all. 

Wooyoung stomped towards the steps, "Well what are we waiting for?"

Seonghwa sighed, "We'll never get anywhere in 30 minutes." He crossed his arms, "Packing up everything we need is too much of a hassle. Centi will never get far enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yeosang interjected.

"She's not exactly the most active person, Sang. Why do you think I stuck her with you?" Seonghwa bit back, "We'll have to find a way to get out of this."

"Oh, dude, I can't go to prison again." Yunho groaned, tangling his hands in his hair.

"Yeosang, Mingi, wipe everything from the PC's. Hongjoong, San, you two find somewhere to get rid of our weapons. Yunho, try to get an update on Jongho." Seonghwa's brows were pinched together, crossing his arms over his chest once more, "We're gonna have to find a way to make us seem like normal people."

Everyone was quick to do their assigned tasks while you sat there on the stairs, your eyes glancing at them all from the railing of the stairs. Seonghwa turned back to the stairs, looking at you with sharp eyes.

You've remembered that look. The same look he gave you when he first saw you at the museum, and you felt just as small now as you did back then.

Seonghwa gripped your hair, looking at you, "Let me figure out you had something to do with this, and I won't stop hunting you down for the rest of your life."

"Ow, Seonghwa..." You grumbled, trying to pull your hair from his hand, and sighed as soon as he let go, "I promise, I didn't have anything to do with this."

Seonghwa continued to walk up the stairs, his eyes stuck on you until he turned the corner into the room. 

You glanced back over the railing, your eyes meeting Yeosang's. As if under a spell, you slowly began to move down the stairs to stand beside Yeosang, whose hand squeezed yours.

"I hope everything's okay." You whispered.

Yeosang smiled softly, "We'll be fine." His eyes focused on the screen, watching the recovery drive get moved to the USB plugged into the computer, "Not the first time this has happened."

Nodding your head, you moved to sit on the arm of his desk chair, his arm wrapping around his waist as he finished clicking his mouse.

Everyone was off doing what Seonghwa assigned them to do. San and Hongjoong returned from the junkyard covered in dirt, sweat rolling down their foreheads. Mingi and Yeosang both ran recovery drives through the computer before they both ripped apart the components and tossed them on their desks.

Seonghwa was stowed away upstairs and Yunho paced the front porch of the shack, the rain pattering atop the roof, a loud twang! echoing the room as the droplets rhythmically dripped into a steel bucket placed against the wall by the stairs.

"17 minutes out." Seonghwa called, tossing a backpack onto the couch; your couch that you were handcuffed to months ago.

You've grown to love the rundown shack; the leaky roof, the splintered floor, the creaky stairs. You thought you'd grow to hate the building, but... it grew on you like a rash. 

Yeosang glanced up at you as you sat on the arm of his chair, "You should go change." He whispered to you softly.

You nodded your head, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll go change." You stood up and made your way up the stairs as if someone else was controlling you. Your shoulders slumped, your head hanging down between them. You pulled on the pants one leg at a time, your shirt over your head, a coat, thick socks and shoes. 

"We can't bring her with us." You heard the voice, immediately recognizing it was Seonghwa.

Yeosang piped up, "And why not?"

"At the moment, she's one of the largest missing person's case in the country. If someone sees her with us," Seonghwa trailed off.

"We can't just leave her." Mingi mumbled, cursing to himself as a clatter dropped to the floor, "We're safer if we take her with us."

Seonghwa voice strained, "She won't say anything." He scoffed, "She's too afraid."

"She's coming with us." Your heart twanged as Yeosang's voice dropped, "End of discussion."

"Since when have you been one to make decisions?" The sound of Seonghwa's heavy boots bounced off the walls.

"Since you've grown more incompetent." Yeosang responded back, "She's coming with us."

You adjusted the jacket over your shoulders, staring at the backboard of the old closet, trying to make it seem like you weren't evasdropping at a time like this just as Yeosang reached over your shoulder to grab his own pair of clothes.

"You shouldn't be listening to that stuff." Yeosang leaned against the wall as he pulled on his clothing, moving some of his hair from his eyes, "You know Seonghwa's just being dramatic." 

"I can't help it." You shrug, turning to look at him as he laced up the boots, "Yeosang."

"Hm?"

"What's supposed to happen?"

Yeosang paused from tying his shoe before he started once more, "Same thing that happens everytime we get caught up like this; run until we find somewhere to set base again." He mumbled, "Y/N, you know, if you do this..." He stood up, grabbing your hand in his own, squeezing it, "If you do this, you'll be just like us." 

You furrow your brows, "Have I not always been like you guys?"

"Of course you have, but... this'll seal the deal. Before, you were just collateral, a hostage. But now, if you follow us down this path, you'll be a fugitive. You won't be able to go back."

You shrugged, "Well, I don't wanna go back."

"No," Yeosang chuckled bitterly, "No, you don't understand." He shook his head, "Think about it. Use the last..." He glanced at his bare wrist as if there was a watch there, but you knew he was counting down the seconds in his head, "15, 14 minutes of this time to really think."

He walked off, despite one of his boots not being tied through, not giving you a second glance. 

You stood in the middle of the room, as everyone moved in and out, grabbing their items, their clothes, their prized possessions. Hongjoong was kind enough to pack up Jongho's belongings for him.

You spent that time really thinking like Yeosang said to. You thought about your life before these two months; it was bitter, it was bland and it was unexciting. But, here... with the boys, with Yeosang, it was everything you wished for. You didn't have to dress a certain way to work. You didn't have to pretend to like the people you worked with. You didn't have to pretend like everything was okay. 

You moved your feet down the steps, seeing the 7 men who you have grown so accustomed to standing in a circle, glancing you up and down as you tightened the straps of the bag over your shoulders. 

"What are you guys waiting for?" You mumbled, looking at them all as you approached the door. 

And despite your excitement to pull open the door to the downpour, seeing eight to nine police cars skidding along the road with their lights flashing and sirens chirping was enough to have you withdraw your hand from the handle.

"Shit, they're here!" San shouted, looking out the windows to the front of the shack, "If we go out there..."

"Stop making a bad situation worse." Seonghwa bit, "They aren't gonna shoot on sight. They have too damn much to ask."

"What are we gonna do, Hwa?" Yunho asked.

Seonghwa pushed his way to the front, gently moving you aside as he slowly opened the door, his hands raised, "Don't shoot." He grumbled, lacing his fingers behind his head as he stepped down the shack's rickety steps.

The rain water pattered on his head, moving close enough to look down at the police.

"My name is Park Seonghwa." He shouted, "I'm 25 years old. I was born in Jinju. I have an older brother. My blood type is..." He was listing out random facts about himself, until an officer approached him and was quick to cuff him.

"They've got Wasp." Hongjoong dropped his items and went out into the rain, steam practically escaping his ears as he tried to intervene, only to be met with the butt of a gun and fall into the mud.

"Shit." 

"Show yourselves." You recognized the man on the intercom. God, how could you forget? You've spoken to him so many times. The police chief of the National Police Force.

San was the first to lead the way out the door with his hands up, Mingi, then Yunho, then you, then Yeosang. Police officers began to surround the area, Seonghwa now being moved into the back of a police car, Hongjoong's unconscious body being placed in the back of the same one. One by one, they got handcuffed.

"Yeosang!" You shouted, ready to run to him before the police chief placed a heavy hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N..." Yeosang barely whispered over the rain, before he was shoved into the back of a police car, sat beside Yunho was looked like he was about ready to start kicking at the officers.

You gave one final panicked look at the Kyomi members in the back of the police cars; a calm and collected Seonghwa, an unconscious Hongjoong, a panicked San and Mingi, an angry Yunho. Yet, you couldn't read Yeosang. You never could. 

You couldn't tell what he was thinking.

The police questioned you for hours about the last two months you spent with Kyomi, and you spent a lot of time with a hired therapist they said that brought in to help hostage victims. Your family were ecstatic to see you, nearly moved to tears at the sight of you wearing the black clothes, your shoes covered in mud and your hair stringy from the rain.

Despite answering their questions to the best of your ability without incriminating anybody, the entire time all you could think about was "Where's Yeosang? Is he in the station too?"

You were granted release from the station not long after being taken in, the blanket wrapped over your shoulders and holding the cup of coffee they offered you as they kicked you out like a newborn calf. You sniffled softly from the chill of the rain lingering in the air.

You glanced upwards, and your bottom lip trembled as you saw Jongho sitting there in a car, climbing inside beside him.

Neither of you shared words; Jongho wasn't one for that, but he did gently pat you on the head as soon as he turned the car on and began to drive off, the sound of 2NE1 filling the quiet space.

You never knew what happened to the boys. Jongho and you both tried to figure out what exactly happened but... there was never much about it on the news or anywhere else. Yeosang, the boys and that rundown old shack in the middle of an old junkyard were an exciting new beginning to a life you only got a taste of. But now, you'd have to live with the bitter, bland and boring life that you had previously. 

Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option...

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