Your Fan, Mingi (part 1)

Your fan, Mingi (part 1)

(pt.2 here)

🎤 pairing: mingi x rapper!reader 🎤 genre: slice of life, mix of fluff and angst, music and the industry, slow burn 🎤 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if mingi was stanning you 🎤 wordcount: 3.4k 🎤 warnings/tags: language, reader is an underground rapper, mingi is totally starstruck, producer hongjoong energy, activism, criticism of music industry, dark side of idol life, hongjoong-ah instead of hyung, yunho is supportive friend (TM), mingi being a rebel, sneaking out, potential rap battles incoming, reader with that mic drop, let me know if anything else 🎤 a/n: Hello there <3 thank you very much for your support, feedback and appreciation, it means the world to me! Here is the next installation of the "Your fan, _____" series, for none other than Song Mingi!! Any reblogs, asks and love is appreciated!

You were an established independent artist, having made a name for yourself among the real veterans and rap appreciators.

Years of tracks, freestyles and collaborations that you had published or appeared in under your belt, you were dead set on making a permanent home in the underground scene, deeming it to be the place where real art was made.

As such, you had openly turned down offers to get signed to bigger labels, spitting on their fineprint.

Besides, after trying to connect with you over music, they had always immediately veered off the trail to discuss image, visuals and something or other about them helping you develop your own style.

Blocked without a second thought. What bullshit was this? You? Not having your own style? Please.

You made it this far riding your own wave, making your own connections, and you sure as hell were not about to sell that off to entertainment industry vultures.

It was the managers, the bureaucrats that you did not want to face. The casting directors with ulterior motives.

You were an activist for creative freedom and helping new artists break through properly. You were vocal about these issues, both in general and through music.

You had first hand experience with how hard it was to become an idol, having actually been cast as a young teen and being a trainee for 2 years, but it turned out that the agency was... questionable, to say the least. And thus your independent journey started, and your doubt of any larger music-related organisations grew.

And the last thing you wanted was to, in front of all those people you were fighting for, who trusted you and saw you as a role model, support those who had questionable intentions. No.

You were a wildfire, spinning things around, remixing reality into raw and emotional lines, your only goal being that at least one person out there could find comfort in your songs.

Fully aware of the responsibility you had as an artist, you breathed your work and never backed down until just conditions for all collaborators, agents and assistants were met.

Though this was honourable, you became notoriously difficult to work with, often deemed to be a pain in the ass.

You would only shrug at that - it wasn't your fault that the music industry was full of self-centred manipulators. Your agent kept assuring you that you were exaggerating, but who said that a nice person couldn't have malicious intent?

Maybe you were overly cautious at times, seeing as you did not enjoy letting people close to you.

Were you alone? No, not at all. You had strong friendships with some legends, attended major events, hell, even gave whole press conferences and readily used the media to spread your message.

You even had some friends who were idols (albeit few), and connected with them deeply over shared passions and visions for the future.

But your soul? Strictly off limits.

Though you did, when the moment called for it, elaborate on one verse or other, either giving it a relatable backstory or linking it to a national or global issue, not once did you bare all.

That was not your style.

Neither was it your fans'.

They did not need to be spoon-fed pretentious monologues to understand.

Your fans were a real unit, many connecting with each other and becoming life-long friends. Since you never tried to gather the bigger venues, even if you were touring the country, you had a chance to interact with them. Reassure them. Connect with them. Human to human.

You understood each other. No accessories. That was the most powerful way to bare all.

It was through these concerts that Mingi had gotten to know you, and soon enough you had become his idol, for the lack of a better word, and muse.

One time he had snuck out of the dorms late at night having heard that a new artist he had heard and liked the sound of was going to be opening for another artist.

By sheer luck he managed to swipe the last ticket available, hours before the concert, and was off, having only alerted Yunho that he was "going out".

The event was held at a club, which technically was forbidden for him, but he was feeling rebellious and wanted to immerse himself in the underground atmosphere for once.

He had to squeeze past many bodies to take his place by a pillar off to the left. There were no seats, as he had expected so he perched himself against the structure, waiting.

The opening act was pretty good, as he had hoped, with the teenage boy on stage having a confident flow. There was that yearning in his eyes, hope for something bigger, like this venue was not enough, but maybe with some time and practice that dream could be achieved.

Mingi was about to leave, turning to try and snake through the crowd that was practically pressing him into the pillar, but their screaming that turned into a hypnotic chant, cult-like made him freeze and turn back.

And there you were. In all your glory. Sitting on a high stool that you had dragged after yourself onto the stage, a wired microphone in your hands that were folded in prayer as you bowed your head repeatedly to the audience.

A single spotlight illuminated your form, clad in pitch black industrial-style trousers, chunky sneakers and matching jacket that was zipped up half-way revealing a black tank top loosely hanging off you.

The aura that spread from the stage into the room was unlike anything he had ever felt before, and it only got stronger as you began to perform.

And not just run through the lines as if you had somewhere better to be, no, you were living through the song, riding the beat, eyes ablaze.

The song you had started with, (which he later found out was something you had written in response to some hate your fanbase had gotten), called "Welcome home, to the show", started with a low hum. It reminded him of a rumbling thunder, your voice distorted by intentionally added digital noise.

Then, you broke into a quiet mutter, each phrase so perfectly constructed that it was sending wave after wave, and he was being swept in. He looked around and noticed that all present were whispering along with you, eyes not leaving the stage a single time.

He was also in shock at how few phones there were, being used to seeing thousands.

And after a few more bars, all hell broke loose, and he was ready to rip his heart out and give it to you then and there.

You were captivating, your message and vision resonating beyond the walls of this club. Connecting philosophy, ethics, even politics and popular culture, you were the truth.

You were alive and resurrected those who had broken away from routine to see you.

The concert was as though you were telling a gripping saga, in one breath. No wonder your fans were near mad towards the end, while you finished up with a 'classic' of yours.

The audience begged for an encore.

You were smiling wide, pure ecstasy on your face like you were just coming down from a high. The jacket had long been forgotten, and you were currently wiping sweat off your tattooed arms.

And just when your fans began to quieten down, you raised your mic, and in one motion summoned a beat.

Another roar erupted as you admired your followers. Mingi swore you locked eyes with him, piercing his body.

There it was. A freestyle where you managed to incorporate an impossible flow change, and personally addressed some of the fans you knew personally and spotted in the audience.

After the performance, there was a near total flip in your demeanour. Mingi observed as you settled on one of the seats at the bar, changed in a different top and now sporting a beanie

Both you and your fans were beyond respectful, sharing embraces and kind words like you were old friends. Maybe you were, he still had so much to learn. You looked at each one of them like they were your entire world, recalling and asking about personal troubles they had shared with you before.

Mingi was starstruck, he wanted to learn what you knew. Learn what drove you. Learn how to be like you, even just a fraction.

And that was how you became his definition of an artist, rapper and role model

Needless to say, after the concert he could not just ‘stay the same’.

The members noticed that Mingi was walking around the dorm, travelling and even taking breaks between schedules with earphones in and eyes glued to his screen.

He had also grown to prefer being immersed in his thoughts, more often observing chaos among the members rather than participating in it.

The collection of changes began to alarm the others, as they had no clue what the source of this Mingi switch up was.

All except Yunho, that was. The lad quickly put two and two together, since he was in the know about Mingi's escape to attend a concert, and was homie goals to not spill this information to the others as there had not been any press or spottings.

So during a day when the group was miraculously free, Yunho approached Mingi to go for a drive together, and the latter not suspecting the interrogation incoming, agreed.

While they were navigating around the city, eventually settling for their final destination to be a quick visit to Bucheon, Yunho, passively, in an even tone, inquired:

"So what happened that night?"

Fully not expecting Mingi to BURST. The boy was literally bouncing in his seat recounting the experience, to the point where Yunho had to use "the mom hand" to try calming his best friend.

After agreeing to not act like a car crash risk, Mingi delved into explaining why exactly he had been acting the way he was, happily answering any and all questions that came his way.

Really, he was waiting to fanboy all this time.

He took out his phone and attempted to show Yunho some screenshots and notes, once again forgetting that road safety was a thing that existed.

"Man you really want to Tokyo Drift off this bridge huh?"

So he spent the rest of the drive reading out extensive analysis he had conducted, picking apart your rap and diving into what everything could potentially mean, how the rhyme and structure worked and how he could potentially take some patterns to experiment with.

Yunho was in awe - he could not get enough of professional Mingi, so he was more than happy to hear that he found such a good role model.

It was that sparkle in his friends eyes, the grin that would not leave his face as he talked about a rare video he found on YouTube of you freestyling during a radio show, his pride as he exclaimed that he had found some of your earliest recordings in the depths of SoundCloud, diving into babbling away about how your sound, though had always been unique, had indeed evolved over time.

To Mingi, you were a daring character, not caring for the blueprints or trends, and inspired him to work harder than ever before, hone his skills further so that he could enjoy the music as much as you did. He wanted to live every line.

He already had the ability to feel the music coursing through his body, and move impeccably to every beat, but there was something indescribable about how you created your creations, something unreachable, that drew Mingi in.

He desperately wanted to crack the code - maybe in a way of natural competition, as he was also in the music industry, hell, also a rapper, but when he tried that theory on it did not sit well. Mingi did not see himself ever having even an echo of a thought to surpass you or wrong you – to him, you were in your own unique realm.

The young man had nothing but respect for you and wanted to simply translate that into a deeper understanding of your skills. He knew far too well just how hard it was to make performances like yours appear effortless.

As he listened and listened to studio recordings and compared them to the live versions he had replaying in his head, he noticed how you had even changed up the emotional landscape for the specific audience. There was no limit to how much variability there was.

Seeing how he had won over Yunho and even got him into being one of your listeners, albeit more casual, Mingi became even more bold about his passion for your music and his professional growth.

So, day in, day out he had begun to learn some of your rap, slowing it down, trying to repeat it after you. He had attempted to record himself on his phone to review progress, and then, for the final challenge… he needed Hongjoong’s help.

Upon hearing that the younger member wanted to go to the recording studio Hongjoong quite literally shot up from his sprawled position on the floor, dropping his paint brushes (much to Seonghwa’s rising discontent) and rushing to get ready.

He knew that when inspiration struck, it was a race against time to try recording anything.

Once they were in the studio and Hongjoong checked that all equipment worked, Mingi decided to sit him down and elaborate on what he wanted to do and why.

What he did not expect, however, was for Hongjoong to have a smug expression on his face, leaning back as if he… knew something. And knew it so well that it seemed he could maybe even fact check the information he was being given.

Soon enough, Mingi stopped his monologue to stare his captain down, eyebrow raised.

“Do you want me to text them?”

Mingi.exe stopped working.

What did Hongjoong mean by that? That he could text you? Did he mean to message you on social media? Or to try reaching out to you indirectly through management perhaps? That all seemed more realistic-

“No, for real, I have her number, lucky for you we are what one could consider friends.”

Mingi felt as though he was on some hidden camera prank show, quite literally turning his head to check if that was the case. When the first wave of shock did pass, he managed to mumble:

“But… how? How did you meet?”

“At a speaker and networking event, of all places. It was one dedicated to fusion of different disciplines that fall under the umbrella of creative arts, a few months back.”

“Oh, I think I remember! And wait wasn’t it the event where you presented about combining fashion and music and stuff like that, right?”

“Yes, exactly. So, really, it wasn’t a talk that I exclusively gave. There were a couple of others on the stage with me, and it was like a panel discussion. And guess who was one of the guests there? Your new celebrity crush! We had talked previously on occasion, but after that panel it was a 180 flip.”

“And that is when you got her… number?”

“Yeah. She gave it to me.”

Mingi did not want to admit but he was experiencing an odd pang of jealousy, at how serendipity had led you to Hongjoong and not him. How the older member could consider himself a friend of yours, but Mingi was just a fan. But he could not stay in this state for long – after all, this second level connection was an opportunity. He was sure to be able to reach you now.

A silence fell over the two members.

Hongjoong finally broke the silence with a chuckle, returning to what Mingi had been meaning to do:

“So, you want to record a cover, right? Or what was it again?”

“Yep… there is that one track. From her second album. ‘Dum Spiro Spero’. It blew me away. The title means 'While I breathe, I hope', and it tells a story of a child dreaming of making it on the big stage and working hard, and then finishes with them achieving it. When I first heard it... it just spoke to me."

Hongjoong shifted in his seat and moved to search up the track on the studio computer. Once on, he began to nod his head to the entrancing beat.

“This one is one of the less known ones, isn’t it? How did you come across it?”

“Setl-” Mingi slapped his hand over his mouth, realising that he may or may not have just exposed himself and set himself up for the scolding of a lifetime.

“Setl… setlist? SETLIST? Song Mingi… Are you meaning to tell me that you attended a public concert… without telling anyone?”

Mingi contemplated whether he wanted to drag Yunho into this, but chose not to as he merely lowered his head and gave Hongjoong a sheepish smile.

“Mmm… perhaps?”

“Boy, I don’t even need to ask you to come to my room, everything’s prepped already. You are about to get that breath knocked out of you Mingi.” Hongjoong’s expression darkened as he stood up to approach the younger man. But then the latter had the audacity to stand up too.

Ah, the benefits of having a height advantage. “You were saying?”

“Listen here you big little shit-”

After indeed having to listen through an extensive collection of colourful words and a stern warning to never do such risky things (at least without Hongjoong knowing) ever again, they moved to recording the cover.

Since they did not have the instrumental for your track, Hongjoong had laid a beat that was similar and, in front of Mingi’s very eyes sent you a message asking if it was okay to even attempt to do what they were about to do.

Midway through recording, the phone buzzed with a simple offer. To come to your studio so that the three of you could make something even better.

If it was possible for a human being to literally light up a room, Mingi was sure to be the brightest star. Glowing, he stepped out of the booth, mouth wide open, morphing into the most adorable grin.

"Is... that... is that really them?"

"Yep, and you should be getting added to a group chat right... now."

His phone dinged, and he could not believe his eyes. It was a number, your number, on his screen, a notification saying that he was added to 'triple threat trio' and a quick text of you informing that this, indeed was yourself and no one else.

Hongjoong was genuinely afraid that Mingi was going to hit the ceiling because he jumped that high.

A giggly mess, the young rapper and your fan fell back onto the sofa behind where Hongjoong was seated, and typed out a response introducing himself and adding that he really liked your work.

"HYUNG SHE SAYS SHE LIKES OUR WORK TOO AHH"

"You know I sent her some of the tracks from our album before they were even officially released, right?"

"You did what now?"

"Yeah, but don't worry it was just snippets and I had it cleared with the producer. He knows her too so it was easy enough."

"WHY WAS I IN THE DARK ABOUT THIS!!!?"

"BECAUSE YOU NEVER ASKED?"

"I am going to stop calling you hyung I have not an ounce of respect left-"

"Now that's too far boy one more word and I am asking Y/N to write a diss track about you."

"And I would thank you, HONGJOONG" he exclaimed, still beaming, making a run for it out of the studio and into the corridor, the captain hot on his heels.

The only thing on his mind was that he was going to be recording with you. He would be able to hear you, basically one on one, doing what you did best. And on top of that, you would be creating art together.

precious

camboy!yeosang x afab reader

genre: smut

synopsis: you stumbled upon your best friend yeosang on a cam site and your curiosity got the best of you. next time you saw him, it was hard to erase the image of him pleasing himself for you.

word count: 3.2k

warnings & 18+ content below the cut

warnings: masturbation, voyeurism, use of 'precious' as a nickname, blowjob, fingering, dom!yeosang, sub!reader, unprotected sex (no mention of protection)

So far, your night was pretty boring. You had absolutely nothing to do. Currently, you were just browsing aimlessly through miscellaneous websites. You looked at some of your favorite clothing websites and watched a couple Youtube videos. Now, you were just totally bored of it all. Then, you remembered your friend told you about cam sites. They had originally mentioned it as a way to make a little extra money if you wanted it. You thought it was a pretty outlandish concept for you to get into, so you just brushed it off. But now, you were quite bored and became a little curious as to what these sites even looked like. So, you decided to go ahead and look at what they were like.

It was a little overwhelming at first. Thumbnails of other people’s livestreams of them in compromising positions, using toys and things on themselves. You clicked on a few rooms to see what went on. It ranged from people just sitting and interacting with the people typing in chat, to people pleasuring themselves. Some were even doing some strip teases to music. It was a lot. Thinking more about you doing it yourself was making you feel more overwhelmed. You had absolutely no idea what you would even do or if you would even be good at it.

Just as you were about to close out of the site, you saw something that made your heart stop. “Is that….Yeosang?” you whispered out loud to yourself. You held your breath as you moved your cursor over to the link of the livestream. Without even thinking about it further, you clicked it. Once you were there, your eyes were met with Yeosang wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. He wasn’t wearing boxers underneath them so it was leaving very little up to the imagination.

You sat there in disbelief. Your best friend did cam shows and…he looked so fucking hot. His abs on display and hand palming at his dick in his sweatpants. His hair slightly stuck to his forehead with sweat as he riled himself up more and more with his touches. You bit your lip as you squeezed your legs together. You wanted him to just pull his dick out and start stroking it for you but, one thing you did know about these sites was, you had to pay for more.

In a moment of pure desperation to see more, you donated a small bit of money using the screen name ‘precious1024’. You attached a message to the donation that read, ‘Touch yourself for me baby’. A grin spread on Yeosang’s face as he read it, “You want me to touch myself for you, precious?”. Your face heat up slightly at his deep voice saying those words. Completely unaware of what him calling you ‘precious’ would do to you.

Next thing you knew, he pulled his cock out from his sweatpants and began stroking it. You started rubbing your thighs together subconsciously in an attempt to get more contact. Soft moans started coming out of Yeosang and it was making your head spin. “Fuck…” you whispered to yourself as you began to take off your pants. Part of you couldn’t believe you were about to get off to your best friend pleasuring himself. As you were about to put your hand in your underwear to start taking care of yourself, something caught your eye. The bracelet he had on the wrist of his hand he was using on himself was the matching one he had with you.

You looked down at the same bracelet that was on your wrist and it started sinking in more. In an act of boldness, you decided to donate once more with a message that read ‘Cute bracelet. Keep stroking for me’. What happened next was not something you could’ve predicted in a million years. “This?” he said as he removed the bracelet from his wrist. “An important person in my life gave it to me” he grinned. Your heart rate quickened. He took the bracelet and wrapped it around his cock before wrapping his hand around it again to continue stroking. “Holy fuck” you whined as you were now soaking wet and craving any form of touch.

He started speeding up his strokes as he squirmed in his chair. His lips were slightly parted as he started breathing more heavily and moaning more frequently. Your fingers were rubbing circles around your clit as you watched your friend get himself off. The situation was still so mind boggling to you and yet, you were almost reveling in it. “Gonna come for you, precious” he suddenly spoke between moans. “Shit, me too” you whispered out loud like he could hear you. His deep moans were like music to your ears as the two of you came at the same time. His abs flexed and hips bucked up into his hand.

When he removed his hand, he looked at his bracelet and sighed as he caught his breath. “Gonna have to clean this off later” he chuckled deeply. Seeing the matching bracelet covered in his come was something that was going to be on your mind for an infinite amount of time. You didn’t want this to change anything but, you knew you wouldn’t be able to look at him the same anymore. But at the same time, he didn’t need to know. He didn’t need to know you were the one donating for him to get himself off. He didn’t need to know how badly you were now craving for his cock to buried inside you.

Without even realizing it, the live had shut off. You were left sitting there with the homepage of the website on display. You quickly got up and head to the bathroom to get yourself taken care of before getting in bed. Your mind was racing with thoughts about the events that had just unfolded. Now it has dawned on you that tomorrow night you were supposed to be having dinner with Yeosang and your friends. A part of you wanted to say you weren’t coming anymore but, you knew that wasn’t gonna solve anything. You couldn’t just not see Yeosang ever again. So, you were just gonna have to deal with it.

You were finishing up getting ready for the evening. Thoughts of last night were still very fresh in your mind. You were certain you weren’t going to be able to make any kind of eye contact with Yeosang. You wanted nothing more than to get this evening over with. With heavy steps you walked your way to the door to head out for the evening.

For once, you were the last one to arrive. Mostly due to your slow getting ready as you dreaded coming. “Hey they’re finally here!” San smiled as you walked over to the table. You greeted your friends with a smile and felt your heart sink when you saw the spot saved for you next to Yeosang. As much as you didn’t want to, you sat next to him and gave him a soft half smile. He looked down and noticed you didn’t have your bracelet on. “Where’s your bracelet?” he pouted. You didn’t have it on mainly on account of the fact that it just reminded you of last night.

“I forgot to put it on before I left I guess”

“I never take mine off. I don’t want to lose it” he smiled innocently.

Your head started pounding as you felt your heart beating in your chest. This was a lot. You felt almost shameful when you looked at the bracelet on his wrist. “You okay Y/n? You look a little sick” Seonghwa gently pat your back. You looked over at your friend and waved him off, “Yeah, I’m okay. Just hungry I guess, I didn’t eat much today”.

As you all received your food, the table quieted down. You normally liked when you all got to eat in comfortable silence but, this was the one time you actually wanted everyone to be talking. It would help distract you from the thoughts that were racing through your mind.

‘Was Yeosang going to do another show tonight?’

‘Does he somehow know that you were watching him last night?’

“Y/n” Yeosang’s voice interrupted your thoughts. “Huh?” you looked over at him. “I asked if you wanted me to drive you home. You still look kind of sick” he innocently put his hand on your thigh, making you jump. “Uh…” you didn’t know what to say and that was enough to give him no choice. “I’m gonna take them home guys” Yeosang started to get up from his seat and help you up. “Feel better Y/n” Wooyoung pouted as you started walking away from the table.

When you both got to your car, you made a last ditch effort to get out of being in a car alone with him.

“What about your car?”

“Yunho drove me. Can I have your keys please?”

You sighed just soft enough that he couldn’t hear you and tossed your keys to him.

The car ride was painfully quiet. He occasionally asked how you were feeling, but you would just brush him off and say you were fine. When you arrived to your apartment building, you exited the car as fast as you could. Much to your disdain, Yeosang insisted on walking you to your apartment and making sure you got in.

You walked into your apartment and turned to Yeosang, "Thanks for driving me home...wait, how are you getting home?" you asked, thinking about how he drove your car here. "I'll just text Yunho to come pick me up" he closed the front door, leaving the two of you alone.

"Did I do something?" he asked as you walked to your bedroom. He followed behind you, waiting for an answer. "No, why would you think that?" you nervously asked as you dug through your dresser for more comfortable clothes to change into. "I don't know. You just have been acting kinda weird with me tonight and-" Yeosang abruptly stopped talking. You turned around after you noticed him going silent and got met with a sight that mortified you. For some reason, you didn't turn your computer off last night. Leaving the cam site open on full display.

"I...I.." you were desperately trying to find the words to explain yourself. "You saw. Didn't you?" Yeosang didn't turn around. He just stayed looking at the computer screen. Your head felt dizzy as you began sweating. Yeosang leaned in closer to the screen and that's when he saw it on the top right corner. Your display name. 'precious1024'. You couldn't see him as his back was turned to you still, but a grin started forming on his face.

"Yeosang, please let me explain-"

He finally turned around to face you and the look in his eyes stopped every thought and function you had. His eyes looked you up and down as he started walking towards you. "Enjoy the show?" he grinned as he was now looming over you. Your back was pressed against the wall and you felt your body go weak. God he was so fucking attractive it was driving you crazy. "What do you think?" you finally managed to get out words. A deep chuckle rang through your ears as he leaned forward into your ear, "Did you touch yourself as you watched me?". You felt your breath get caught for a moment. The close proximity, his deep voice, the words he was saying. It made you want to just drop to your knees and shove his cock down your throat. "I did" you finally answered his question.

His hands grabbed your waist as he pulled his head back from your ear. You looked at him with hazy, hooded eyes. "You're so cute. I could ruin you. You'd like that, huh?" he smirked with his eyes piercing through you. All you could do was nod in response. Next thing you knew, your lips were pressed together. You felt his tongue find its way into your mouth, making you moan into the kiss. Your fingers raked through his hair as his hands roamed from your waist to your ass, pulling your hips against his body.

"Yeosang" you called out to him as your lips parted. "Yes, precious?" he replied with a grin. Your knees felt weak upon hearing the nickname. Without saying anything else, your hands went for the zipper and belt of his pants. He chuckled at your sudden eagerness, but he let you have your way.

Once his pants fell, you dropped to your knees. "You sure you want to?" he asked for confirmation. "Yes please, I need your cock" you confirmed. Yeosang felt his dick twitch in his boxers at the sound of you craving him. He slowly pulled his boxers down, letting his now hard cock slap against his stomach. You licked your lips as you wrapped your hand around it. The growing wetness in your underwear and the aching you felt at your core was almost unbearable but, you needed his cock in your mouth. You looked up at him as you slowly started putting his length in. He grabbed some of your hair to keep it away from your face as you started sucking him off.

"Fuck you're good" he praised between heavy breaths and moans. You moaned with his cock in your throat and it sent chills up his spine. "Better than you imagined? I bet you've been thinking about me a lot. Watching me stroke my dick with the bracelet you got me. I was thinking about you when I was coming...imagining myself ruining you" he went on. You finally took his dick out of your mouth and looked up at him as you started pumping it with your hand. "You looked so hot getting off for me" you grinned up at him. "Come here baby" he pulled you off your knees and pulled you against him to kiss you roughly again. He reached for the bottom of your shirt and lifted it over your head, tossing it to the floor.

As the two of you continued getting undressed, the thought came into your mind that you were about to have sex with your best friend. You had no idea the what this meant for your future but, you didn't care. You craved him so bad and the fact you were already so comfortable with him, only made this feel so much more right.

You laid down on the bed and watched as Yeosang crawled over top of you. His head dove down into the crook of your neck and ravished it with open mouth kisses. Sucking on the skin, leaving a collection purple bruises. Your breath hitched as you felt his fingers tease your entrance. "Fuck you're so wet already" he couldn't help the shit eating grin that formed on his face. Without any warning, he inserted two of his fingers inside of you, eliciting a moan of relief from you as you finally felt yourself get filled. "You're so sexy and perfect" he praised, making you clench around his fingers. He pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth, sucking your juices off his fingers as he looked down at you. After sucking his fingers clean, he kissed you hungrily so you could taste yourself on his tongue.

"I can't wait to fill you and fuck you" he practically purred as he lined himself up with you. "Well hurry and get a move on then. I'm all yours" you pulled his head down so your foreheads touched. After that, he slowly started pushing himself inside of you. You gripped onto his biceps as his thrusts started slow and rhythmic so you could adjust to his size. But that's not what you wanted. You wanted him to ruin you.

"Yeosang I'm not made of glass. Fuck me properly"

Without any response, he started slamming his hips against you harder. His dick was slamming against your sweet spot repeatedly and it was making you see stars. Loud moans escaped your lips as your fingers dug into his biceps. "Your moans are so pretty. You gonna let everyone know how well I'm fucking you?" he growled into your ear before biting your lobe. "Yeosang...fuck" you whined as tears threatened to sting your eyes. He propped himself up on his knees and grabbed your waist. Once situated, he started fucking you at a much faster pace. Since he was no longer pressed against you so you couldn't grab onto him, you were forced to grip the bedding underneath you. "Fuck! Don't stop" you cried out as more tears stung your eyes. He felt so fucking good and it was making your mind turn to mush.

"You feel so good precious. Am I gonna make you come?"

"Yes....please make me come"

One of his hands moved from your waist to start rubbing your clit. An embarrassingly loud moan came out of you as you arched your back. Your moan and the fucked out expression on your face was enough to make Yeosang almost come right then and there. He felt you release on his cock and he took that as the moment to pull out of you and pump his load all over your stomach and chest.

Yeosang collapsed on the bed next to you as you both calmed down from your highs. "So...does this change anything?" you look over at him. "It doesn't have to change anything if you don't want it to. But, I do care about you a lot. This wasn't just going to be a meaningless one night stand to me" he wiped some hair from your sweaty forehead. "Shit I need to call Yunho" he got up from his spot next to you. "Um...ahem" you looked at him and looked at your body that was covered in his come. "Oops right. Let me get you a towel" he quickly put his underwear on and went off to grab a towel.

As you cleaned yourself up, you heard Yeosang gasp when he looked at his phone. "What?" you got up to put on a shirt and a pair of underwear. "Well...it's safe to say we don't have to explain anything to the others" he awkwardly chuckled as he looked over at you. You grabbed his phone and read the texts from Yunho.

'Hey, I'm on my way to get you'

'Hello? I'm downstairs..are you okay?'

'I'm just gonna come in. I've got a key to their apartment'

'EW YOU GUYS ARE NASTY I'M JUST GONNA GO. CALL ME LATER OR SOMETHING'

The two of you laughed at the unfortunate traumatization of your friend. "Guess you're staying here for the night" you kissed his cheek. He smiled fondly at you as you walked over to crawl into bed. As the two of you laid there in each other's arms, Yeosang had a thought. "So, what were you doing on the cam site to begin with?" he asked. "Well...my friend mentioned it to me as another way to make some money so I was just looking" you explained, slightly embarrassed. Yeosang grinned, "Huh, guess I have a new guest for my streams".

taglist: @kodzukein @woosanbby @soupbinlily @rialovesyunho

sign up for my permanent taglist here ♡

LAVENDER BLOOD || PARK SEONGHWA

“you didn’t cheat death, y/n l/n

you only brought me closer.”

ateez modern day mythology AU — seonghwa love interest

pairing: gn!reader x god of death!seonghwa

genre: fic. angst, fluff, smut, etc

overall fic warnings: mature themes, foul language. mentions of death and scenes that include such acts. religion. modern day mythology retelling with a twist, this fic will include such details from well-known and maybe not too known storylines from those time periods. forced marriage. mentions of mental health, most specifically eating disorders and PTSD.

as i continue writing, this will be updated.

permanent taglist: @girlsbyaespa

ask to be ( + ) or ( - ) to either my permanent taglist or this fic only.

OVERALL: i am in no way claiming this to be an accurate representation of ateez/seonghwa or any of the other people i mention in my works—everything is strictly fictional and made to be read and enjoyed. they are merely reference characters. i am also in no way glamorizing or romanticizing anything i mention in my works such as toxic behavior and bodily harm, i won’t tolerate seeing such either. with such said, please don’t hesitate to leave your thoughts!

word count: 1,058

next

INTRO / PROLOGUE

Keep reading

Slumber party~ | ATEEZ AU

multiple choice ending (in progress <3, teasers at end!)

Synopsis: you’re best friends with yunhos sister and after a night out he came to pick you up and bring you back to his shared college dorm with 7 other guys :’)

Content warning: motherly seonghwa, struggling with food due to busy schedule (y/n) suggestive/smut throughout the endings

Ft: Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho, Y/N and Seoah (OC, yunhos sister)

—————————————————————

“Mingi you’re actually so GOD awful at this game” wooyoung teased, beating the older at Mario kart on one of the weekly game nights the boys held in their dorm.

hongjoong on the other hand was up and pacing around the dorm. “Where is yunho?” He questioned, arms crossed and brows furrowed. Seonghwa giggled over the stove of food he was preparing, “it’s been dark for hours he should have been back ages ago.”

“I’m sure he’s fine~ he’s a big boy.” seonghwa teased back at him with a cheeky smile on his face.

Just as joong checked his watch for the 1000th time the jingle of keys finally let yunho back home.

“Where have you be-“ hongjoong turned to scream his lungs out, only to be stopped by the presence of guests that yunho had brought with him.

Hongjoong paused entirely, looking you up and down cautiously. Average length wavy hair, bright eyes, very small..

You shrunk back behind yunho feeling his eyes burning all over you. Thankfully you were able to relax slightly due to the loud crashing noises of yunhos younger sister, seoah, your best friend, bumbling through the door.

“Sorry I had to pick up these two from the city, I hope it’s okay they crash here I’ll just throw them in my room and sleep out here, you won’t even know they’re here I promise I’ll take care of everythi-“ yunho rambled on, covering as many bases as he possibly could in one sentence.

“Of course it’s fine. Calm down yunho, come in girls~” Seonghwa clutched onto yunhos shoulder, comforting him as the nicer, less threatening/judgemental parental figure in the dorm.

Eventually you crept past hongjoong following seoah to her brothers room, staring at the ground, trying not to trip out of fear of hongjoong. Yunho followed you both and showed you into his room. He pulled out some more blankets for the two of you so you don’t have to share and helped make you feel more comfortable there.

“Feel free to come and hang out with us in the living room y/n, I’m sure seoah has already gone to oogle san.” You giggled, not knowing that yunho was in on his sisters little crush that you had heard about non-stop, he smiled a soft smile watching you loosen up infront of him. “Thank you yunho, I’ll be out in a bit.” He nodded and left to go join the others.

You sat on the edge of his bed a took in a deep breath. It wasn’t the first time you’d been around all the guys but some of them clearly need a bit more time to get comfortable with you. You changed out of your going out clothes into something more comfortable and placed on your glasses before heading back into the living room.

“Omigoshh sannieee you’re so gooddd~~~~ my gamer boyyy~~” seoah crooned, spread over san on a couch full of other guys. Wooyoung only giggled watching his attempts to politely get her off and continue playing the game which, despite what seoah may say, he was not winning.

You walked into the room quietly, sporting sweats a comfortable tshirt and some fluffy socks. You found a seat next to jongho, due to your similar age you’d spoken a little before and you were pretty happy to spend time together by now.

“Hey.” He smiled up at you as you tiptoed over yeosang crossed legged on the floor. “Hi.” You sweetly exclaimed as you crashed into the couch. “How are you? How’s school been?” He asked, leaning on one hand giving you his full attention. “I’m okay~ School is tiring like you wouldn’t believe. I’ve been doing two shows side by side and we have to rehearse all the time and even during lunch so I haven’t really been eating properly and all these things pile up yann-“

“YOU HAVEN’T BEEN EATING?!!?!”

Seonghwa whipped his head around basically only hearing the mention of you not getting lunch, oven mitts on each hand as he held a steaming pot of ramen. Mingi paused the game at the commotion now all eyes were on you, hidden in jonghos side as best as you could possibly manage.

“Oh yeah, we normally have lunch together EVERY day but I haven’t seen her in weeks.” Seoah chimed in, now sat in sans lap arms slung around the back of his neck. You felt bad coming in uninvited and now being the centre attention on their games night .

“Y/n come and eat now honey you have to look after yourself~~” seonghwa ushered you over, coming to get you from jonghos grasp. “I don’t wanna take food away from you all we didn’t even tell you we were coming-“ you chimed in now being dragged through yeosang over to the dining table, “oh please look at the size of those two, they’re big and strong they can wait a few more minutes.” He said pointing at mingi and yunho on the other couch, “honestly I don’t know if I can-“ mingi chimed in fluttering his eyelashes at the table full of food. Hongjoong shushed him as seonghwa showed you to a plate and all the food he had prepared.

“Take whatever you want and let me know if there’s anything else you might want, no pressure, I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.” He said quietly to you. You nodded and began piling different meats and veggies onto your plate, mingi quickly rushed by your side to do the same, shooting you a large boxy smile.

You sat down on the floor now with jjong and yeosang so you could have access to the coffee table and each other’s food. You shared tteokbokki and laughed as wooyoung and hongjoong played super smash bros.

Once you’d finished your meal you began to pile up all the plates and took them over to the sink- “y/n/l/n if you don’t go and rest right now I swear I will tell seonghwa.” Yunho threatened following behind you, pulling up his sleeves and putting on some pink rubber gloves ready to wash the dishes. you giggled at his threat nodding your head and scurrying back over to the couch.

“Y/n would you like to have a go on the switch with me?” San offered finally being free from seoah, somehow, for the first time that evening.

~

🐿️ hongjoong ending (we shouldn’t be doing this)

⭐️ seonghwa ending (I’ll look after you baby~)

🐶 yunho ending (best friends older brother<3)

👑 yeosang ending (friends to lovers)

🏔️ san ending (up all night/gam3 bo1)

🐺 mingi ending (secret lovers/size difference)

🦊 wooyoung ending (2 kids -taemin)

🐻 jongho ending (experimental love)

—————————————————————

an: basically what had happened WAS, I planned on writing this fic about one particular member ;) and then i remembered that I’m actually in love with all of these pirate mfs and I want all of them so bad so I’m gonna give them all an ending~~ *cheering* anyways, I hope you enjoy <3 any feedback is appreciated! hopefully I’ll get round to them all quickly :) love you!!

happy new year🍸✨ || park seonghwa (m)

🍸 pairing ⇢ art major! (fem) reader x med-school student! Seonghwa x San (kind of)

🍸 summary ⇢ after a hell of a night of drinking god knows what, you wake up in the arms of your sworn enemy. Clothes? Gone. Sanity? Also gone. That is, until he wakes up before you get the chance to leave.

🍸 genre/ au⇢ enemies to lovers, one night stand au, smut, slight angst, some fluff

🍸 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors dni, one night stand, heavy drinking, party, sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, cream pie, seonghwa is super smart, seonghwa wears glasses, licking, biting, bruising, slight dirty talk, name calling, I am not a science professional please forgive me if things are not correct, language, a touch of after care, y/n is a freak but we love her, once again if I forgot something feel free to let me know so I can add it.

🍸 word count ⇢ 9.2k

🍸 taglist ⇢ @atinywhore @meowmeowminnie @jjhmk @yesv01 @roe-sinning @yeritheloml @yukine-smx @y00nzin0 @8tinytings @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @hwaightme

New year's. A new beginning. A flush of new opportunities to change habits and fall in love. 

Some people will do anything to find the love of their life. You, well, the new year wasn't for praying for love or longing for that New Year's Eve kiss. You had no expectations for falling into the scheme of chemicals disguised as love.

So, on the very night, as others held hands, kissed, and enjoyed another year together, you partied the night away like it had no meaning.

This new year, however, your typical party-hard behavior ended with you in someone else's bed, glitter in your eyes, and your legs tangled with your enemy.

What the fuck happened?

—

11:25 am

New Year’s Day.

Your head was spinning. 

Flashbacks of the night before flooded your vision even before you opened your eyes. Your toes were peeking out of the fluffy duvet that one hundred percent didn't belong to you, your hands grasping onto someone else's.

You were afraid to open your eyes, to be honest.

Flashes of glitter, champagne, kisses, touches, dancing. It was all too much, and the minute you felt someone’s warm breath run down your neck, you became aware of the strong arm that held you to his body.

And that's when it hit you. 

Last night, after way too much alcohol and mixtures of shots and god knows what else, you shared your midnight kiss with someone you dreaded.

Well, at least used to dread.

You opened your eyes quickly, staying as still as ever to not wake him. You didn't trust your drunk mind—you wanted to make sure it was….him.

You looked down at the hand that was wrapped around you. His fingers cupped your breast, holding you to him like you were made for him. Your heart began to beat faster as you noticed how he was holding you, and you slowly moved your head to face your enemy.

Park Fucking Seonghwa.

There he was, in all his glory. His black hair still looked flawless,his lips parted as he breathed. They were swollen, painted red from your lipstick. You held your breath and swallowed hard, unable to look away from him from the shock.

Or maybe, just maybe, you thought he was absolutely gorgeous and couldn't believe he just fucked you after staying he hated you the day before.

You blinked, and finally tore your gaze from him.

It wasn't unusual for you to wake up in a foreign bed tangled in a mess of limbs. It was a part of your party lifestyle, and never wanting to settle. The man that you slept with, though, was someone you never imagined would have a one night stand.

He was too good to be true, which is why you couldn't believe it. He was fine-cut, clean, and someone who was a lover of all things traditional. He wears suits freshly pressed from the dry cleaners, round rimmed glasses, and a permanent smirk as if he was better than everyone else.

To be honest, he was. Which is why you hated him.

He was too perfect. And now, here you were, with said perfect man, your naked bodies pressed against each other. 

You let out a groan, unsure about how to get out of this situation. Ever so slowly, you wrapped your fingers around the hand that gripped your breast, prying his godly fingers off your skin. You breathed slowly as you set his hand down, and then you slipped out of the covers.

Your bare feet landed on the cold hardwood, and you let out a sigh of relief. You looked over at him before finding your dress that you vividly remember him ripping off of you, and of course, it was torn right down the middle. 

“Fuck.” you whispered, although it wasn't quiet enough.

He gasped awake, pushing himself back against the headboard. His eyes were frantic, searching all over the room until his eyes met yours. And then they trailed down, and down, and down, as he soaked up your nakedness. “Holy fuck,” he breathed, not even pulling up the covers to hide his bare chest. “y/n? Where are your clothes?”

You stood like a deer in headlights, scared enough to not even bother to hide yourself. He saw it all, anyway.

“I, uh,” you sniffed, holding up the destroyed dress in your hands. “You tore it off my body…”

He squinted his eyes, unable to see without those glasses of his. He reached over onto the nightstand, and quickly tossed on those sexy ass round-rimmed glasses. And that's when another flashback hit you.

 “What the hell happened last night?”

—

New Years Eve,

9:05 pm.

“Make sure you bring some painkillers, y/n,” your best friend San said as you stuffed the necessities into your purse. “I know how you get.”

You chuckled and tossed a whole bottle into your purse. “I got you, Sannie.”

You and san were besties. Not just you two, but you had a whole friend group. Wooyoung, hongjoong, San, A mixture of personalities, but you liked to consider your group a bunch of party-hards. All except one of them. 

Seonghwa, who was hongjoong’s roommate, joined the friend group last new years. He was the stick up the ass friend that wouldn't like to come to parties, and his priorities lied with passing his boards. A smarty pants, of course, and you couldn't blame him for his efforts to do well. You just didn't care the same way he did.

Which is why he didn't like you.

He also studied the brain while you studied art, which he thought was tedious. He knew everything about your brain while you couldn't even pick apart his expressions, which pissed you off all the time.

“Oh, one more thing,” San poked his head into your room, a sinister smile on his face. A face you've kissed one too many times. “Seonghwa is coming.”

You went still as he stood in your doorway, your lips only half covered with bright red lipstick. “What?”

San shrugged. “Don't know why. Said he was sick of studying for once. I couldn't believe it either,” he looked you up and down then, and gave you a wink. “Anyway. You look hot. I wanna kiss away that lipstick, baby.”

You smirked, loving that you and San could do anything to each other and it meant nothing. He was the male version of you, that's for sure.

“Come here then.” you chuckled, and not surprisingly, he entered the room like he owned it, pulling you to him sexily. Everyone thought you were dating, but the truth was that you just like to kiss each other. And fuck, but theres absolutely no strings attached.

Reason number a million for why seonghwa hated you.

His lips met yours sloppily, tugging you closer as his lips parted yours. He pulled back, licking the lipstick off his lips. 

“So, who’s gonna be the lucky man tonight?” he huskily groaned, leaning back onto your vanity.

You carried on like nothing happened, and fixed up your lipstick. “Not sure. Whoever is down for some fun I guess.”

He nodded. “Of course, of course. Anyway, as much as I like to chit-chat and makeout with you, it's time to head out. I want to get there before the good alc is gone.”

You smirked, finishing your lipstick only for it to be ruined later on. 

“Alright, lets go get fucked up.”

—

10:20 pm

You entered the party an hour later, already buzzed on your pre-game chug. San gripped onto you as you entered the house, having no idea who’s it was.

“The party is here, motherfuckers.” San hollered, and everyone who was in the room turned to see you.

You were sober enough to look around, looking for the man you couldn't believe was showing up. You didn't see him anywhere, and you felt a bit let down at the thought of him not showing up.

San’s fingertips were pressed into your side as your friends came up to see you. “Ah, there you guys are. We figured you were fucking as per usual.” Wooyoung cockily spoke, a smile on those pretty drunk lips of his.

Hongjoong snorted, holding a can of beer tightly in his hands. “You're so right.”

You shook your head this time, looking at San, who was staring at you hungrily. “Nah, just a quick makeout sesh. Didn't want to zip this dress back up.”

“Nah, I could've just lifted it up.” San smirked.

You were too busy staring at San to notice the man of the hour coming up behind your friends.

Seonghwa looked pained, his pretty eyes hidden behind his glasses. He held a beer in his hand, looking out of place from his stuffy persona. His long legs were covered with tight black dress pants, and his chest was covered in a matching suit coat and a turtleneck.

You couldn't lie, it pissed you off that he was hot.

“Hwa, there you are,” San giggled, already drunk off an unknown amount of vodka shots. “You're looking fine as hell tonight.”

You moved your gaze to the tall man, his expensive aura rubbing off on you. His eyes were sending daggers at San’s grip on your waist, and then he brought his gaze up to yours. “Thanks.” is all he said, his smooth voice enveloping your senses.

You looked him up and down with an arch of the brow. “Seonghwa.”

He did the same to you, although his piercing eyes were judging your every move. “Y/n.”

You scoffed at the disdain of his tone, knowing that this party was going to be the death of you if you stayed this sober. You looked up to San, who was already looking at you. “San, could you get me a drink?”

He went off like he was your servant, leaving you alone with your friends. That is, until hongjoong gave wooyoung a knowing look. “We're going to get drinks too. Bye-bye.” hongjoong chuckled, knowing he was leaving you with the enemy.

You rolled your eyes, unable to meet your gaze to Seonghwa’s fierce one. It was quiet between you two, desperately needing him to either leave or speak. 

To your surprise, he did the latter.

“I see you're enjoying winter break, clearly,” he hummed, bringing the beer can up to his lips. You couldn't help but watch as they got wet, and how he licked them clean while looking at you. “Maybe too much.”

Stupid stupid stupid. He shouldn't be hot. It's not fair.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “What do you mean by that?” you inquired, to which he scoffed before responding.

He shrugged. “Well, you're having fun with San and going to parties left and right. Do you ever rest?” he took a step closer to you, but you didn't back down. Even though his voice was so smooth, buttering you up even when he insulted you, you loved to play his game right back.

“Why are you here? Shouldn't you be dissecting a brain or something?” you growled, looking around for San—who wasn't back with your drink yet. “Listen, we all can't be neurosurgeons, baby. Leave the partying and sex and drugs to me.”

He raised an eyebrow, and took another step towards you. “So you are fucking him.”

You furrowed your brows at his harsh and unusual word choices. 

Two can play it this way, seonghwa.

“Who? I can name a few people in this room alone,” you reached out, using your flirtatious ways to make him uncomfortable as you always do. You ran a hand down his arm, his gaze hardening on you. “Are you interested? You know I like it rough. I’m sure San tells you all about it—”

“Slut.” he hissed, his eyes black as night as your hand wrapped around his forearm. It's not a word you should take lightly, but hearing him call you that actually did the opposite you expected. You felt warm, your stomach tingling lower and lower and lower.

Your eyes lit up as they met his. “Oh? We’re name calling now, huh?” you pulled him to you, and he stumbled into you. You reached up and pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “Sucks for you, four eyes, I like being degraded.”

He didn't make a face. He just stared down at you, his lips flat without emotion. His eyes, however, danced with lust from the look you were giving him. After a moment of tearing each other apart, you pushed him away, leaving him standing alone as you went to go find San. Before you left his sight, you turned around and gave him a flirty wave, catching him scoffing one last time before leaving the room.

—

11:30 pm

It was a blur. You were already on your seventh, maybe tenth drink, feeling your body warm from the toxin you call alcohol. You had a habit of dancing when you were drunk, and that left you in the middle of the room, grinding on San and some other random dudes.

In your hand was a red cup of something that tastes like peach whiskey, and it nearly spilled as San’s hands were all over you. The edge of his fingertips danced at the curve of your hip, your arms reaching the sky as his lips were on your neck. Little did you know that more than one set of eyes were on you.

Seonghwa sat on the leather couch, his legs spread wide and his arms crossed. He was drunk off a whole bottle of orange vodka, which scared him a bit. He was unsure of what he would do—or say—to you. You had no idea why he hated you, but oh, some choice words might spill out of his mouth tonight as he watched San touch you like that.

He narrowed his eyes when San’s lips met yours, staring at you with so much anger he might have exploded. He kept watching, unable to break his stare from you. His eyes trailed down to the way San’s hand slid down your hips, and watched as he kissed you and smiled with cockiness.

Seonghwa didn't like how he looked at you.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but Hwa stood up and made his way over to you. Within that little time, San was already dancing with another girl, leaving you dancing all alone in the midst of sweaty bodies and men that would take advantage of you.

The minute you spotted him in front of you, you stopped dancing and plastered a goofy smile on your face. “Hello there, smarty pants. Out of your element?” you asked him and began to dance again. He looked at you deeply, noticing the smudge of your lipstick.

“You seem to let anyone touch you.” He said, pushing his glasses up on his face.

You shrugged as you danced, but you were sick of him killing the mood. You reached out to him and pulled him close, and to your surprise, he didn't move away as you danced against him.

“Yeah, even you.” you smirked, grinding your ass against his dick. You were certain he was drunk enough to ignore it. “Touch me.”

He hesitated, but the alcohol took over as his hands moved on their own. He was too drunk to hide his true feelings, but at least you both wouldn't remember this in the morning. His hands slid down to your hips, and never have you ever craved someone’s touch this much.

You reached back to run a hand down his face, feeling the cold rim of his glasses. You felt how sharp his jawline was as his hands touched you like he never did before.

“I’m touching you because you want me to, not because I want to.” he huffed, but his fingers said otherwise as they curled around your dress. His head rested against yours, but then you turned around in his hold, your face inches away from his.

You tilted your face up as you saw the longing look he was giving you. God, you hated him.

“Are you sure about that?” your lips were inches away from his, his hands still gripping at your waist. You held onto his shirt, fisting it tight. You smelled his breath, his shampoo, his everything. Your vision was hazy, but you knew damn well he was the hottest man you've ever laid eyes on. “Your hands seem to like my waist.”

“I don't like anything about you,” he whispered in your ear, lips pressing against your skin. “Not even your sexy little ass. God, I hate your lips, too.”

You shivered under his touch, his hand now squeezing your ass as he breathed into your ear. 

“Oh? What’s wrong with my lips?” 

He let out a sigh, his breathing getting shallower by the minute. 

His dark eyes met yours.

“Because they don't belong to me.”

You stopped dead at his words, feeling like the whole world stopped. He stopped too, but his hands still found their home on your ass and waist.

Your heart began to beat out of your chest. No man has ever made you feel the way he made you feel. You couldn't stand it.

Ignoring his half-confession, you laughed it off. “Your breath smells like oranges.”

He smiled down at you, hair in his eyes. “That's because of the orange vodka. You smell like peaches.”

You licked your lips, really wanting to taste the oranges on his lips; in his mouth. Something was wrong with you.

“I really don't like you.” you said, looking at his lips.

“I hate you even more.”

“Well I hate you a million times more.”

He scoffed, his hands meeting your waist once again. “I hate your dress.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why? Is it too slutty for you? Is that all you see in me?”

He shook his head. “No,” he hummed. “I just think you're too pretty to be someone’s play-thing.”

You blinked. Was that a compliment?

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I don't do it as often as you think.” you said to him, that seductive smile on your face he knew all too well.

“Well you sleep with San.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, but we only fuck because we don't know how to love. We've only done it once.”

He frowned. “What? Really? Only once?”

You nodded, your hand running through his soft hair without knowing. This was the most you've ever spoken civilly. “Yeah. We make out and like other stuff, but I don't like him like that. He doesn't like me like that either. We just do it for fun. Anything to feel something.”

He scoffed, looking as pretty as ever. “God, you're insane.”

“Maybe.”

He smiled. Really smiled. You thought he was so gorgeous, your drunk self didn't know what to do with him.

San came up to you two, a smirk on his lips as he watched you. “Dancing with the enemy, huh?” he chuckled, a girl on one arm and wooyoung on the other. “Have fun, looks like Seonghwa isn't a buzzkill after all.”

San left then, which kind of proved your relationship to Hwa. Sure, you liked to party. You liked having sex. You liked to feel things. It was just your way of having fun. Feeling alive. Even though Seonghwa hated that you were like that, you now just figured out that he thought you deserved better than being someone’s object.

“It's almost midnight.” you whispered, leaning your head against his chest. You felt his heartbeat race under that expensive turtleneck of his.

“Mhm.” he hummed into your hair. 

“Who are you going to kiss?” you ran your hands down his back sensually. “Did you even ever kiss someone?”

He laughed, and you felt his chest vibrate. “Do you think I’m a virgin, y/n?”

You giggled, his hands feeling you up. “Maybe. Either that or you're like extremely experienced and you know everything.”

He chuckled at that, but didn't deny it.

“So which is it?” you looked up at him as people began to chant the countdown in the background. “Virgin or sexpertise?” 

Ten. 

“Do you want to find out?” he asked, his hands living on your hips. “Or do you hate me too much?”

Nine.

“I do hate you quite a bit.” you looked up at his lips.

Eight.

He tilted his head, licking his lips.

Seven.

“Well I don't want you kissing someone else.”

Six.

You looked up at him through your lashes. “So does that mean you don't hate me?”

Five. 

He tugged you closer to him, your breasts pressing against his chest. “Oh, I do hate you. I hate everything about you.”

Four.

“Oh, I know you do.” you licked your lips as he pressed his forehead against yours. “You never let me hear otherwise.”

Three. 

“Do you…want to hear otherwise?”

Two. 

His hand met your jaw, tilting it up to face him. You swallowed hard.

You nodded. 

“I never wanted someone so bad the way I want you.” he breathed.

One.

“Kiss me.” you groaned, and this time, he touched you because he wanted to.

“I won't be able to stop.” he hummed against your lips, enveloping you with the sweet taste of oranges and vodka despite the warning.

Happy new year!

He pushed open your lips, tongue in your mouth and hands in your hair. You fisted his hair with one hand, his glasses crashing against your face. He pulled back for a moment only long enough to tear them off his face, only to further the kiss. His hands gripped your face, his tongue licking the roof of your mouth.

He breathed hard as you kissed and kissed and kissed. Your hands were still in his hair, tugging him down to you as he leaned down. You've never kissed someone the way you kissed him at this moment, sharing breaths and sweet-tasting saliva.

Seonghwa scrunched his eyebrows tight as he kissed you, so powerfully, that you didn't know where to put your hands on him anymore. 

You forgot that you were in the middle of a room full of people, but one kiss wasn't enough for both of you. You loved the softness of his lips. The taste of them. The smell of his hair. You loved the way he was looking at you, the way he was touching you. You loved everything about him at this moment.

He pulled away, slowly, tenderly, as if he didn't almost break your face from that powerful kiss. It was as if the world was ending—he couldn't let go of you.

And to make matters worse, the pad of his thumb met the corner of your lips, wiping them gently.

“Happy new year, y/n.”

You stared at him, trying to decipher your true feelings. Did you only hate him because he never showed you the time of day? Was it because he was perfect, like a literal god?

—

12:45 am.

The New Year

Somehow, someway, you and seonghwa got separated in all the craziness of the midnight frenzy. You were now in the kitchen, guzzling down your second shot of champagne. You were way too drunk to search for seonghwa, but the minute you saw a flash of black and silver rimmed glasses, you pushed yourself off the counter and followed him.

The cold January breeze hit you, but your body was too warmed up from your intoxication. You stepped down the stairs of the deck, pushing through the swarm of people to see a group lighting off sparklers. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea, as everyone here had to be at least tipsy, but you saw him then, smiling, and holding onto a sparkler.

The brightness of the sparks reflected in his eyes, leaving specks of gold and white dance around his lenses. He didn't see you yet, so you stepped closer and closer. He had to see you now, but he didn't look over.

“You know that our reactions to the world around us originate from our brains?” he smiled, waving the sparkler around to make the fire move. “Our movements. Like me moving this right now. Because my brain told my muscles to do it, I moved. Isn't it amazing?”

You stared at him as he turned to you.

“Same way with you,” he sniffed, possibly because of the cold. He looked down at the sparkler in his hands. “My brain reacts to you. More than absolutely anything.”

You reached out and held the sparkler with him, knowing there was no way you were going to remember this in the morning. “So, what makes my body react to you, then?”

He let out a sigh, putting his thinking face on even while he was obliterated. “That depends on what way you react. There are many different chemicals.”

You tilted your head. “Chemicals?”

He nodded, looking down at how your hands were touching each other. His free hand gripped your chin, tilting it up to meet his lustful gaze.

“If you're thinking about kissing me,” he paused, the reflection of the star of the sparkler in his lenses. “Or touching me. Or fucking me, your levels of dopamine and norepinephrine are high.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as his fingertips brushed against your lips. 

“High?” 

“Mhm. Your brain is currently sending signals through your neurotransmitters. If you're attracted to me right now,” the sparks of the sparkler died out right then. “Your body will react because of the chemical reactions.”

“So,” you breathed, looking up at him innocently. “How is your body reacting to me? What’s your brain telling you?”

Seonghwa paused, taking a quick look at your lips before biting them slightly. He tossed the dead sparkler away. “Well my brain isn't fully functional right now, so I’m not sure how reliable my words are.”

You scoffed, slapping him on the arm. “I thought we were having a moment.”

“We are.”

You laughed. “Seonghwa, I feel like you have no common sense.”

He blinked. “Well, not right now. Like I said when you drink your brain doesn't work as well—”

You groaned, interrupting him with a hand to his mouth. This made his eyes go wide, and you felt his hot breath hit your palm.

“I literally hate you so much,” you kept your hand to his mouth to keep him from speaking. “I’d rather have you call me a slut like earlier. Although you look cute talking all nerdy.”

He blinked at you, confused at what you really felt about him. He was so far gone that he was starting to spill brain facts—a usual scenario that happens when he gets drunk. It's not what he wants to get across now, even though he was confused about his own thoughts.

He reached up to grab your hand, and wiped his face after. Now his lips were free—you kept thinking back to your kiss you shared earlier.

“I won't be able to stop.” you said.

He tilted his head in confusion. “What?”

You sighed, grabbing his cheeks in your hands, making him let out a little noise of surprise. You could tell he barely had any idea where he was. His eyes were dilated, dark, and somehow so lovely you couldn't imagine looking into anyone else's.

“You said you wouldn't be able to stop. When you were kissing me.” you hummed, feeling the warmth of his body that was inches away from yours. “But you did.”

He stared at you deeply, and you were able to see your reflection in his round eyes. “Yes.”

You rubbed your thumb against his cheekbone. “And you said before that if you wanted to kiss someone, that was because of a chemical reaction?”

He nodded slowly, looking at your lips in a haze. “Also yes.”

“Are you….having any reaction…to me?” you slid your hand back, running it up his neck, watching him shut his eyes tight in response. “To my touch? Do you want to kiss my lips again? Or fuck me?”

“God, y/n.” he hissed quietly, his eyes opening slowly to meet your intense gaze. His hands were back on your hips, seeming like a happy place for him. “I’m supposed to hate you.”

You smirked, leaning in to kiss the sharpness of his jaw, hearing him breathe in sharply. “We can go back to being hateful in the morning. I want you inside me more than I want to be hated, tonight,” you kissed the lobe of his ear, nibbling on it slightly as his hands tightened at your waist. “So your answer? Is there a chemical reaction going off in your body right now?”

He laughed deeply, sending chills down your spine. His arms wrapped around your body, his palm at the small of your back, pulling you into him. “If there wasn't, then I would have something wrong with me.”

You sensually giggled, gripping the back of his neck so he would look you in the eyes. “Then I’m all yours for the night.”

“I can…I can do anything to you?” he murmured into your ear, both of you unaware of the people around you. 

His forehead pressed against yours.

“Anything.” 

—

1:20 am.

The New Year

He slammed you against the door of god knows who’s bedroom, his lips on yours the minute he caught his breath. His hand searched for the door knob, and after aggressively running his hand up and down the door, he found it, and you both tumbled into the bedroom.

He moaned as you bit his lip with full force, feeling euphoric from the sounds he made. He pushed you back into the door, slamming it shut with your body. Lifting you up quickly, he held you to the door, feeling his hard-on through his pants.

“You said you liked it rough,” he whispered onto your lips like it was a confession, kissing them in between words. “I’ll make it so rough you won't think about San ever again.”

You cried out as he stuck his tongue into your mouth, now knowing that this booksmart boy was most certainly not a virgin. “I knew it.” you breathed, smirking while his teeth bit into your neck. You grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling it so hard that he set you down. You watched his face contort in pain and pleasure as you backed him up to the edge of the bed.

“What?” he groaned, looking up at you from his seated position. His eyes pleaded for your touch, and you did, gripping onto his shoulder as you stepped between his legs.

“I knew you weren't a virgin, you asshole.” you gave him a sinister smile, and with the deadliest look, you ripped the hair tie off your wrist to tie your hair up.

You watched him swallow hard, his black hair covering his eyes and sticking to him from his sweat. His legs were spread wide, his dick begging to tear through his expensive pants. He breathed heavily as he watched you kneel, causing him to moan without you having to touch him.

“I…” he huffed as your hands met the waistband of his pants. “Ugh.” he couldn't finish what he had to say when you unbuttoned them, pulling down the zipper to reveal black underwear. You tugged at his pants, pulling them down along with the underwear. There he was, ready for you. You were going to make him feel so good that he would never forget this, despite your shared “hatred.”

He tossed his head back the minute he felt your breath against his tip, veins popping through the skin of his forehead as he bit his lip. You licked his cock, dragging your tongue down from the tip to the base. You looked up at him while you did it, meeting his breathless expression.

“I…I…Fuck.” he cried out, his hand fisting your ponytail with force. 

You moaned as you sucked his dick, your throat contracting from his size. You gagged slightly as he shoved you deeper, your hands behind your back like the master you were. You used your tongue as you moved up and down, going faster as you heard him moan louder and louder.

“I’m gonna fucking come if you don't stop,” he hissed after god knows how long you spent sucking him off, and he pulled you up off your knees. 

You nearly blushed at his lost expression, his lips bright red from your lipstick and his cheeks flushed. His eyes were slanted with lust, dazed and lost within your touch. He was leaning back on his arms, which were still covered by the turtleneck you couldn't wait to take off of him.

You licked your lips as you looked down on him, and your fingertips met the hem of his shirt. You tugged it slowly, watching his eyes widen slightly as you pulled it over his head. The smooth ripple of muscle danced down his stomach like he was some sort of art piece.

You then stood back to admire for a moment, which was too long for seonghwa to wait. He stood up from the bed, his arms coming around to hold the back of your head. He was completely naked now, all that was left was the slutty glasses that dawned his face. You didn't want to take them off just yet.

He looked at you for a second before pressing his red lips to yours, his hand gripping the back of your head to hold you to him. His other hand twirled around the end of your little dress, unable to take a second to pull the zipper down. You moaned into his mouth as his tongue collided into yours, your hands finding their home in his hair. The coldness of his glasses burned into your skin, sending more shivers down your spine as he kissed you like no one ever has.

“I’ll tear this thing apart,” he growled into your mouth, impatient as ever. Before you could tell him there was a zipper, he ripped the fabric right off your body, tossing it across the room like it was nothing. You didn't even care if it was your favorite dress. The only thing that mattered right now was having him inside you.

You shivered as his hands slid down the waistband of your lace underwear.

“I bet you didn't think I would be the one taking these off of you,” he licked your lips, his cold fingertips meeting your other lips. He pushed his middle finger between them, his eyes dancing with desire as he watched your eyes shut tight. “Lace? So slutty.”

“Your glasses are sluttier.” You held in a whimper.

He smirked, and took his hand away slowly. Before you could complain, he sucked on the fingers that were just near your entrance, and then slid his hand up your matching bra, the pads of his fingers rubbing against the sensitive skin of your nipple. Without warning, he pulled it over your head, and you rested your head in the crook of his neck while his hands caressed your breasts. You kissed his collarbone as his arms snaked around your waist, pushing you backwards until you both fell onto the bed.

He caged you from above, his dick pressing up against your center. You felt the dribble of precum hit your skin, unable to shake the feeling that he was probably the best you ever had—even without entering you. His one arm reached down to pull your underwear off, so quickly you barely knew he did it.

You arched your back into him, begging him with your eyes for him to enter you, but he just looked down at you with a smirk. He ran a hand down your face, almost lovingly, but you knew better.

The minute his dick lined up to enter, and with a sharp inhale, he pushed himself deep inside you, causing you to let out a cry.

You rocked your hips against his as he held himself over you, his eyes locked on yours drunkenly. You couldn't remember when–or if—he ever looked straight into your eyes before tonight. It was fitting that he would only look at you when he fucked you.

His hips clashed into yours, his arms looping around your legs to shove himself further, if possible. You moaned so loud you swore everyone could hear you, but what made you even more turned on was that he was just as loud.

“Say my name.” he said, his glasses still on, making you even more feral. “I want to hear you scream it.”

You looked into his galaxy-like eyes, watching them sparkle with emotion.

You'll never recover from this.

“Seonghwa.” you whined, completely vulnerable under his body.

“Oh my god,” he purred, his eyes darkening. “Say it again.”

You moaned, causing him to move faster. “Hwa…”

You gripped his ass as he moved powerfully, his fingernails piercing your skin while his lips made love to your neck. You could hardly breathe between his god-like movements and the way his touch felt like fire, but when his lips met yours once again, you slid your hands up to hold the hair out of his face.

You smirked.

“Let me ride you.” you said, your voice hoarse from all your moans. He didn't stop moving as you asked, but you saw that gorgeous smirk immediately.

You traded positions, feeling empty as he pulled out of you. The minute you saw him under you, his hair sticking to his face and his eyes full of wonder, you let out a sigh, feeling his pulse from under you. You caressed his stomach with your fingertips, watching those bright eyes shut tight. Bringing your fingers down, you slid them down the V of his muscle, smiling to yourself as he bucked his hips forward. 

You leaned down, your lips meeting his stomach and you moved them further and further up, kissing his chest, his collarbone, his neck. You got to his chin, then his nose, until you softly gripped his glasses. Once they were off, you set them down onto the nightstand, letting out a chuckle as you looked at him.

He blinked up at you, never seeing him with such emotion.

“Beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, feeling his hot breath coat them while his hands caressed your back. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, sliding your finger down his neck to grip his throat. “You make me so mad.” you breathed, a devilish, almost insane look on your face. 

You tightened your grip.

He looked at you, sexy as ever. “Why?”

“Because,” you lined yourself up, hearing him grunt as you pushed yourself onto him. 

“When you call me beautiful, I actually believe you.”

You didn't give him a chance to answer you as you bounced up and down, smirking as you watched him squirm under your hold. You released your grip on his neck, pushing yourself up to ride him better. His hands were on your hips, his mouth agape and his eyes shut tight.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, leaning up from his sprawled position to wrap his arms around your body, holding him to you as you bounced up and down. Up and down, his lips on your lips. His hands in your hair. His tongue in your mouth. You never wanted this to end.

Who knows how long you've been going. He threw you around, pushing you up against the headboard and tossing your legs over his shoulders. He moaned in your ear, biting the lobe and then kissing it. “I still hate you,” he hissed, his sweat rubbing off onto you as he pressed his head into yours. “I hate how good your pussy feels.”

You tried catching your breath, holding onto him as he crashed. You already came twice, and you felt the third high coming after those words.

“You…” he huffed as you sucked on his thumb, unable to control himself. “You're such a whore.”

You smiled, your legs losing their feeling by how hard he was pumping into you. “Mhm.”

He groaned, tossing his head back. “It's so hot. You're so hot.” his breaths began to quicken, along with his movements. You most definitely will have bruises on your thighs from his grip and marks from the headboard on your back in the morning. “My little slut.”

“Ah,” you cried out, feeling yourself tighten around his pulsing cock. He pushed you up against the headboard even harder, and you felt the sharpness of his fingernails as he bucked his hips a few more times.

He came into you, without warning, and you felt the warmness fill you up completely. His breath was just as hot, hitting your sweaty face rhythmically. You let out a comfortable sigh as he moved your legs off his shoulders.

As you laid out, your back against the wooden headboard and him between your legs, he looked at you, gently, romantically, as if he didn't just fuck you for hours. He reached out, brushing your soaked hair behind your ear with a slight boyish smile.

He looked down at you in awe, unsure of what to do now. He was now a completely different person than he was a few minutes ago. His hands felt the inside of your thighs, his eyes wide. “Do you…do I..” he scratched his head. “Should I…help you? Like, wash up?” he met eyes with you, still drunk, but not nearly as much as he was a few hours ago.

You paused. You never had someone offer you that. Or any after care, in general. It's always been a hello, goodbye. 

He looked like he wanted to take care of you.

You blinked, trying to hide your appreciation. “You…don't have to,” you said, barely audible. He was the smartest man you knew, there was no way he didn't know what that meant.

He looked at you one more time before getting off the bed. You watched as he searched the room, admiring his physique. He found a box of tissues, and he gave you a look. “It's not the best thing, but—”

“It's okay, seonghwa.” you smiled, your hatred for him completely gone. Poof! Nothing was there other than infatuation and some other feeling you couldn't put your finger on. He came over to you then, and gently wiped the inside of your thighs, cleaning you up slowly. You blinked slowly as the tiredness took over you, but you didn't fall asleep just yet.

He looked you up and down from his standing position, his eyes sparkling under the moonlight that peeked through the windows.

He laid on the bed next to you, pulling up the covers and tossing them over both of you. Without thinking, you cuddled up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your head in his neck.

“You should believe it.” he said softly, rubbing circles into your arm.

“Hm?” you mumbled, drifting into sleep.

He smiled and kissed your forehead. 

“That you are beautiful.”

—

11:30 am

New Year’s Day.

Back to the current time, Seonghwa sat up against the headboard, looking as shocked as ever, not even pulling up the covers to hide his bare chest. 

“y/n?” he asked, his eyes wide. “Where are your clothes?”

You stood like a deer in headlights, scared enough to not even bother to hide yourself. He saw it all, anyway. You remembered everything as soon as your fingers touched your dress.

“I, uh,” you sniffed, holding up the destroyed dress in your hands. “You tore it off my body…”

He squinted his eyes, unable to see without those glasses of his. He reached over onto the nightstand, and quickly tossed on those sexy ass round-rimmed glasses. The same glasses he had on when he fucked you so hard you saw stars.

 “What the hell happened last night?” He asked, fixing his glasses to rest right on that pretty nose of his.

Your heart slowed. “You… don't remember?” you asked him, looking down at your aching body. He stared at you, lost, dazed, looking even more fuckable than he was when you were drunk.

This is bad.

He sighed, looking over the bruises on your thighs. “No, I do. I do,” he paused, scratching his head. “I’m sorry about the bruises. And…your dress.”

You wanted to escape. This was the first time you wanted to stay in someone's arms. The first time you wanted to sleep with someone more than once. It was unlike you.

You frantically searched for his shirt on the floor. You grabbed it and tossed it on, and thank god it fit like a dress. Your mind wandered to how he touched you, how he kissed you, how he cleaned you up.

You slid on your underwear, forgetting about the bra and quickly looked for your shoes. He watched you from the bed, a frown on his face. 

“You and your stupid chemical talk,” you mumbled, fixing your hair in the mirror. You looked over at him one last time, feeling your chest tingle from the look he was giving you. “I uh…it was nice. Thanks.” was all you came up with before leaving the room, and leaving him all alone with no shirt and your lace bra.

How were you supposed to fix this?

—

January 30th

End of Winter Break

You sat with your head in your textbook, alone in the library at your college campus. It's been thirty days since your unforgettable night with seonghwa, and here you were, still thinking about it every chance you got.

However, he was back to hating you again. He wouldn't even look at you, or speak to you. It felt like nothing happened, and in all reality, it was all your fault.

San came up to you then, a frown on his face as you made no reaction to his presence. Seonghwa was right—you couldn't even think of san the same way. Not after that night with hwa. 

“y/n,” San sat across from you at the library table, his expression solemn. “You haven't been yourself. Since when do you study?”

You blinked down at your textbook, reading about the anatomical drawings of Leonardo Divinci. It reminded you of seonghwa—not because of the way it looks, but knowing that the chemical reactions of the body lie under the exterior.

“Did you know that we have a whole bunch of neurotransmitters?” you furrowed your brow, your finger dancing along the drawing’s body. “They react to touch. Like this.” you said, circling the figure. San didn't speak, and he knew what happened between you and Seonghwa.

“Hey,” he reached out to shut your textbook, shutting your thoughts up. “What's going on?”

You shrugged, wrapping yourself up tightly in your fluffy coat. “I don't know. I don't know why I’m feeling this way or what it means.”

“It's Seonghwa,” he said kindly, picking at the edge of the textbook. “He’s been the same way, too.”

You sighed. “He won't even look at me, but who can blame him? After all he tore off my dress and called me a slut and bruised my thighs so bad I still have—”

“Alright, alright,” San hissed, making a disgusted face. “I don't need the details. But I can tell you what he said about you…”

Your eyes lit up, meeting his own irises with wonder. “What did he say?”

San bit his lip, and squirmed in the chair he was sitting in. “He said…he said he didn't want you to leave. When he was drunk the other day, he wouldn't stop talking about you.”

“San I,” you sighed, picking at your fingers in your lap. “I had to. That's all I know.”

He shook his head. “It doesn't have to be. Not with him, at least.”

You stared at him for a moment, unable to grasp the emotions you were feeling. “I don't want a relationship.”

He nodded. “He knows that.”

You bit your lip. “I don't know how to love someone.”

“He knows that, too.”

“Then what do I do?” you laughed, a usual occurrence when you were confused. “I want to be with him, but I don't know why.”

He smiled at you, his eyes kind rather than their usual flirtiness. “It doesn't hurt to try, y/n.”

Something blew up in your mind—some sort of chemical reaction you weren't used to. You knew of the feeling of attraction, lust, everything in between. But you didn't know what this one was.

You stood up abruptly. “I gotta go.” the chair nearly tumbled back as you zoomed out of the library, forgetting your backpack and your textbook like they were the least of your worries.

You ran through the cold, having no idea where your destination was. You knew who he was, but not where to find him. You checked his apartment, called hongjoong, and checked the science lecture halls. With him nowhere to be found, you thought your heart was going to give out—that is, until one more place came to mind.

You raced to the campus bus stop, pacing until the bus finally arrived. Your leg bounced up and down rapidly until you reached your stop. You moved so fast you were certain people thought you were insane, and when you finally pushed through the doors of the hospital, you trudged up the stairs to the neuro floor, right up to the main desk.

You took a deep breath to slow your breathing. “Is Seonghwa here?” you asked in a hurry, your heart beating so fast you thought you were dying. 

The lady frowned, giving you the weirdest look. “Who? Is he a patient?”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “No, no. he’s a med student. He should be doing an internship here or something? He’s in neuroscience. Neurosurgery? One of the two, I don't—”

“y/n?”

You heard his smooth voice from the right, and you slowly turned toward him in relief. “Ah, thank god. I need to see you, I think I’m dying.” you inhaled sharply, watching his neutral expression change to worry. 

He hesitated to get closer to you, his lips opening and closing as his mind wondered about what to say. He decided against words and walked over to you, gripping onto your arm before dragging you away and into the on-call room he came out of.

He let go of you, and you stood in the middle of the room with your hands at your sides. He locked the door behind him, and then turned to you with a scowl. “Why are you here?”

You gasped for air. “Listen, I have to be dying. My heart is beating so fast.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s probably because you ran here.”

You shook your head, and he kept his distance to you. “No, it's not just that,” you took a step closer to him. He didn't move back. “I can't stop thinking about you. And when I think about you, my heart races and I feel like I need to see you. Some kind of chemical reaction is going on and it's not the one you told me about when we were drunk.”

He looked at you, his expression unreadable. You stepped closer to him. “It’s probably just your body being confused. It has nothing to do with me—”

“But it has everything to do with you!” you groaned, sweating through the furry coat you had on. You ran a hand through your hair aggressively. “Because you're the one who I see even when I’m staring at anatomy paintings I can't stand it anymore.”

He let his guard down, setting down his arms at his sides. You took a step closer to him, calming down in his presence. 

He looked at you through those glasses of his. “What are your symptoms?”

You let out a sigh of relief. “I uh, I cant stop thinking about you. About that night. I also cant breathe sometimes, and my heart beats super fast whenever I think about you, or if you're with someone else,” you took a breath as he watched you intently. “I don't know if its because you hate me and I cant shake it, or that I still want to sleep with you, or the fact that I want more than that but I’m no good for you but I want to be—”

“Oxytocin.” he smiled, his eyes sparkling.

You stopped, realizing you were so close to him that your shoes were almost bumping together. “What?”

“Your chemical reaction,” he said, reaching out to brush your hair away from your face. The minute his skin met yours, you felt your heart beat even faster. “It’s especially prominent with…skin to skin contact.” the pads of his fingers caressed your cheek.

You felt calm as he touched you. Like you needed it. Only him.

“What does that mean?” you asked him, a whisper.

He smiled, grabbing your face in his hands. “It means attachment. You're attached to me.”

You met eyes with him, looking at how they searched your face for any answer. 

“...Yes. you're right,” you bit your lip as he looked down at you with amusement. “All I know is that I feel so much better now that you're in front of me.”

He smiled. “Good. because I do too,” he looked at your lips, ready to lean down and kiss them. “But just so you know, I plan on ripping your clothes off again. Right here, right now, so you better tell me it won't be the last time. I don't want to hear you say bye to me ever again.”

You nodded in his grip, your face inching towards his. “Mhm. Yeah. I’ll always say hello to you. No bye’s.”

He pressed his forehead into yours. “None.” 

His lips met yours like it was the first time, and you smiled into the kiss like a schoolgirl. You wrapped your arm around his shoulders, kissing him and kissing him like you were made for him.

He made love to you on the couch of the on-call room, making new marks on your thighs and your neck. You never wanted it to end, and this time, it didn't have to.

“I’ll be the only one who gets to rip  your dresses, alright?” he growled in your ear, professing his attraction and attachment to you through actions. 

“Okay, four eyes.”

Be The Light (Part 2)

pairing: ateez (ot8) x reader

genre: Dystopian AU, angst, some fluff maybe, based off of ATEEZ’s lore

wc: 5k+ (I'm sorry?)

warnings: ANGST. Mentions of food. MC is... going through a lot of emotions. violence. this is set in strictland. Let me know if I missed anything.

summary: You lost them, then found them again. And now that freedom is so near, you fear losing them once again.

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a/n: Now that this has turned into a series, the taglist is open! Send me an ask/DM if you would like to be tagged ❤️ A HUGE thanks to @hwaightme for helping me with the pacing for this chapter. Thank you.

Taglist: (open, send me an ask/dm if you want to be tagged in future updates!) @camzpetite @kawennote09 @parkthothwa8 @jenseok17 @simeonswhore @jjaelly @miaatiny @miriamxsworld @hwaightme-recs @jackinmyarea

Sleep has evaded you since the night you returned to the base. The only reason you were able to catch some hours of rest that night was only because you were drained both physically and emotionally, having cried until you'd passed out of exhaustion.

Even with The Eight missing, the members of The Movement trust you enough to wait patiently until you come up with a plan to attack the government again. You had given them an ambiguous idea of what you were going to do, mentioning how Hongjoong had made sure things would run smoothly even without them around. No one had stepped out of the base unless absolutely necessary, but the same cannot be said for you.

It's close to dawn, and you're seated on a ledge overlooking the city, which has suspiciously been bathed in silence since the fateful day. You've been on high alert, strengthening security and ensuring that if push comes to shove, all of you will have a way to escape without any more casualties. You do not want any more blood on your hands.

A movement in the corner of your eye catches your attention. From your vantage point, you spot a bunch of vehicles silently moving through the streets. Your eyes follow the tail lights to the center of the sector. Android Guardians step out and work on something, you can't see clearly from a distance, but you can feel it in your bones that whatever they're planning is not going to be good. It takes them an hour to install whatever it is, and by the time they leave, the city is waking up.

You turn and don your cloak, pulling up the hood as you make your way to the streets down below, allowing yourself to be led by the masses of people as they go about their day. Not only does this allow you to not think about what had happened a few days ago, but you're also able to scour the city for any signs of trouble for your group without drawing too much attention to yourself. Without Yeosang to look out for you, moving about on your own would be dangerous. At least with people around you, you can hide yourself in the crowd.

You've always found a sense of peace in the act of walking, which is why you assumed the role of the scout. You are unassuming enough to be overlooked, especially when in a crowd of people. There have been so many instances when you were on the run from the Android Guardians and had slipped between a mass of people, effectively disappearing from their radar. It was precisely because of this skill that, to the government, you were known as The Shadow.

"You won't guess what they've taken to calling our Light," Mingi's deep voice breaks the intense discussion you'd been having with Hongjoong and Seonghwa. His tone also catches the attention of the others, and one by one, they trickle into the room, trying to catch a glimpse of the flyer in the tallest member's hands.

"What is it?" Curiosity tugs you closer to Mingi, and all of you fall silent when he holds up the piece of paper for all of you to read.

"That's an irony if I've ever seen one," Jongho manages to utter before collapsing into a fit of giggles which starts a chain reaction, and soon, all of you are laughing not only at the fact that they've named you 'Shadow' of all things, but also the preposterous descriptions.

"They're literally contradicting themselves with each sentence," Yeosang chuckles while reading out what's written. "Did they even proofread this? 'Assumed to be 140 cm' is followed by 'is considerably taller than The Arsonist, who's known to be 173 cm'."

"That's borderline offensive, by the way, I know our shortie isn't very tall, but 140 cm is just too much," Yunho is practically kneeling on the ground at this point, laughing so hard that his legs can't hold him up anymore.

"I can't get over the 'is considerably taller than The Arsonist,' our Light is the only one of us who's shorter than me!" Wooyoung whines, throwing himself onto the nearest person. Unfortunately for him, however, Seonghwa sidesteps the incoming ball of energy, and he crashes into Yunho, eliciting another round of laughter from all of you.

"It's quite fitting, though," Hongjoong muses once all of you have calmed down somewhat. "The codename," he explains when he sees your confused expressions, "I remember reading somewhere that revolution cannot be spelled without love, but backwards. And the fact that they're our Light, which automatically makes them a shadow for Z and his regime."

Mingi whistles appreciatively, "Damn…that was deep."

You're pulled back to the present when you almost bump into someone, but thankfully, you catch yourself at the last moment. It's only when you realize everyone is looking at something that you lift your eyes to take in what has caught everyone's attention.

It takes you a second to truly register what you're seeing, and when you do, your brain reminds you of how truly terrified you are. The memory of your boys has eased some of your nerves, momentarily making you forget that no one is waiting for you back at the base. You won't ever see Hongjoong's impressed face when you manage to outwit him. You won't feel Seonghwa's warmth ever again. You won't have any more dance battles with Yunho and Mingi, nor will you ever be a part of the infamous WooSan sandwich. You won't ever find solace in Jongho's presence, and Yeosang will never show off his IT skills. Not anymore.

As you take in the figure the government had erected, you're left bereft and grieving for your loss all over again. It is decked in Seonghwa's accessories from head to toe. For being nothing but a human construction, the figure looks lively, especially due to the cloak that flutters in the air as if it’s alive.

"The members of HALATEEZ have been taken down. With their leaders gone, The Movement has retreated, and peace is finally restored." Z's voice blares from the loudspeakers. "Remember—"

OUR WORLD IS PERFECT AS LONG AS THERE ARE NO CRACKS.

FEELINGS ARE A WEAKNESS.

EMOTIONS ARE DISEASE.

WE WANT TO PROTECT YOU ALL.

DO NOT DOUBT US.

DO NOT QUESTION.

ALL OF THIS IS FOR YOU.

Your stomach churns, and you swallow back a sob. You can’t cry, not here, where anyone can see you. For the first time in forever, you feel exposed, as if someone has stripped you of your skin, and all that remains are your bones. How could you have never realized how the boys had always acted like a safety blanket? Their presence was grounding even when the world was breaking apart at the seams. And now, they had been ripped away from you, leaving you bereft and grieving the sense of security you had once enjoyed.

You take a step back, then another, and another. Before long, you’re tracing your way back to the hideout. Once you can’t see the crowd or the abomination they’ve erected, you run. Throwing caution to the wind, you don't stop until you're back in the safety of your room.

Your back presses against the door, and you slide down onto your knees. Panicked shivers overtake your body as you tremble from fear. Gasping for breath, you gulp air as if tasting it for the very first time, trying to overcome the compression in your chest that threatens to drown you. What hurts the most is the guilt that you feel, questions plaguing your mind as you fall into despair once again.

What if you had confronted them during breakfast that day? Would they still be alive?

What if you'd figured out their plans earlier? Would they be here with you, celebrating yet another victory?

What if?

What if?

What if?

The silence extends across the hideout, blanketing everything in its cold embrace. Usually, you would hear voices from the various rooms as you walk through a hallway or the shuffle of footsteps just out of reach as someone goes about their daily duties. But you had sent all of them to Left Eye's underground bunker on the outskirts of Sector 1. Your decision had been met with some reluctance, but after hearing what you had seen this morning, it was decided that leaving would be the best course of action for now. After the huge loss incurred at the hands of the Android Guardians, it would take The Movement a while to rise from the ashes. But you would. You had done it before, you could do it again.

Now all alone in the hideout, you stand in the common area, eyes trained on the Cromer that you've placed on the table. Your fingers are poised over the device, your hand trembling as you hesitate to touch it. Touching it would mean everything you've experienced in the last few days is real. Once you let yourself hold the device again, you'll have to come to terms with the fact that you won't wake up from this nightmare.

Alone in the room, you're quiet, but the rage that followed your breakdown this morning is still coursing through your veins, wanting to bubble over. You want to unleash your anger at the world, to break it apart until it's barely holding together. You want to unleash hell on Z, to tear into him with your bare fingers until he feels the agony that you felt when he took your family away from you. You've never been violent, opting to leave that part to the boys. Instead, you chose to patch up the hearts that had been broken by the government. But right now, you crave the vindictive relief that comes with violence.

Sucking in a deep breath, you turn around abruptly and walk out of the room with a sense of purpose. Your footsteps are slow and careful, carefully timed with each inhale as you try to get as far away from the Cromer as you can. When you finally stop to take in your surroundings, you find yourself in front of Hongjoong's office. Unlike the rest of the base, this door is imposing, not just because beyond it lies the office of your Captain, but also because the room carries secrets you're not sure you want to know. You lean forward, resting your forehead against the door, and let yourself feel for a moment. With your eyes closed like this, the base seems alive, walls thrumming against your touch. In a world that has been stripped off of emotions, you find it fitting that the building you chose to be The Movement's base is brimming with life.

Taking another deep breath, you push the door open, making a beeline toward the desk in the center of the room. Your hand brushes against the expensive wood, fingers curling around the handle of the drawer in which Hongjoong kept tidbits that reminded him of all of you. He was a hoarder, always unable to part with something he considered precious, even if it wasn't of use anymore. He would keep it for the sake of memory, for the nostalgia that came with still having something that meant so much at some point in the past. Seonghwa always scolded him for it, threatening to throw away or burn all the stuff that didn't work anymore, but he never got around to it. And you're glad he didn't. Now that they're no longer here, you suppose the things Hongjoong had collected are all that's left of them.

Just as you pull the drawer open a smidge, a voice in the back of your mind reminds you about the memory card Yunho had mentioned in the letter, and you close it with a bang. It's too soon. Much too soon for you to be able to remember every memory associated with the things inside. You can't have another breakdown, not right now when the full moon is to rise in a few hours. You need to be prepared for tonight.

You flip through the files and notes, coming across a small diary that has the letters ATZ embellished on it. You open it, hoping to find something that would help you find a way to bring 'them' to your world.

The universe is divided into dimensions. Each is separated from the other by space and time. The only device that can connect the dimensions is the Cromer which 'imitates' the phases of the moon.

You find a note folded between the pages, Hongjoong's messy writing making it slightly difficult to decipher what's written. It is clear that he had written it down in a hurry, but it makes you smile regardless, the familiarity of his writing making it easier for you to breathe.

My Light,

In case things don't work out and you have to execute Plan B, please follow these instructions to bring them here.

During the last crescent moon, I asked the leader of the group from the other dimension to be ready for you on the next full moon. I tried my best to explain everything to him through the dream, but I'm not sure how successful I was. Rest assured, however, that they will be prepared for you to bring them here.

Since they do not have the Cromer, you will have to travel to their dimension (Universe A) and then come back with them to ours (Universe Z). Turn the Cromer clockwise to travel to A and anticlockwise to return. You’ll need to be in direct moonlight to travel. Don't wait for the next full moon to travel home, no matter what.

Be safe.

KHJ

You leaf through other notes about the Cromer, but they're all more or less the same. You file everything for future use, stacking everything in piles of connected information so that it'll be easier for you to access it in the future. When the clock chimes, you realize how late it is, and you scramble to retrieve your cloak and mask from your room. You shoulder the bag you had prepared in advance before snatching the Cromer. With some hesitation, you also grab a pistol and tuck it into your belt before leaving the hideout.

Hidden in the shadows of the night, you pad down the dark, empty streets of the city. From somewhere nearby, you can hear the damned audio Z has resumed playing since this morning. Once you reach your destination, you allow yourself to rush as you climb up the stairs of the abandoned building.

When you arrive on the rooftop, you relish in the moonlight that bathes you in its essence. You hold the Cromer, which glows in your hands as if anticipating what you are about to do. You take a deep breath, and before you can convince yourself that it is a bad idea, you turn it clockwise.

And then, the world turns upside down.

Suddenly, time becomes palpable. It’s slowing down around you, flowing over and around you as if you’re not part of this world anymore. Enchanted, you bring up your hand, watching the flow slow down until it stops fully. The colors start to dissolve into nothingness, and something pulls at you. The very next moment, you’re falling. You don’t know how long you fall, but you feel it when the world starts to reform around you.

Eyes wide, you take in the unfamiliar surroundings. It’s bright, much too bright and colorful than your own gray world. The alley you have ended up in is isolated, but somewhere nearby, you can hear the sounds of footsteps and vehicles rambling on the road. The noise is punctuated by gleeful shouts and laughter of people. For a moment, you feel overwhelmed. This world is reminiscent of yours before Z took over. You had forgotten how lively a place could be when people are allowed to feel.

Turning in a full circle, you take account of everything around you, stopping short when your gaze lands on a tall stranger leaning against the lone lamp post that lights up the alleyway. The first thing you notice is his hair, a bright orange with red tips that mimics fire. Your gaze then falls on his face; the familiarity of his sharp cheekbones and blazing eyes makes you take a step back in shock. In your chest, your heart beats a mile a minute, and you find yourself struggling with the simple act of breathing. Seeing your distressed state, he takes a step towards you, but you hold up your hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“Give me a minute. My body is adjusting to this place,” your voice is strained. You can tell he doesn’t believe you, but thankfully he says nothing and stays away from you.

You can’t believe Hongjoong would do this to you. He could have mentioned that the people he had contacted were basically another version of themselves. Had he really expected you to take this in stride?

“The Captain didn’t mention it to you because he knew you wouldn’t have traveled here if you knew,” The softness of his voice washes over you, the deep baritone vibrating in your soul.

It’s jarring. Not only does he look the same, but the kindness that burns behind his eyes is also the same. You’ve been on the receiving end of Mingi’s concern so many times, and feeling it once again is surreal. He is not your Mingi, but he is Mingi, and it confuses you.

“Are you—Will you be okay?” He’s perceptive, you’ll give him that. Or maybe it’s simply because he has joined the dots together. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why you are here, especially after Hongjoong gave them a heads-up.

You nod, still struggling to catch your breath. You take him in, drinking in his appearance greedily. He does the same, even though he can’t see your face considering you’re still wearing your mask. But he watches you with a soft, hopeful expression, and you can’t miss the longing in his eyes. You watch his gaze fall to the device in your hands, and he straightens up as if suddenly realizing something.

“The others are waiting at the warehouse. It’s at the end of this alley,” he says, nodding toward the right before taking a step in that direction. You blanch at the ice in his tone, wondering why his demeanor changed so suddenly.

He doesn’t wait for you, doesn’t look back to make sure you’re following him. You scramble to keep up with his stride, his long legs carrying him faster than you are accustomed to. He watches you from the corner of his eye, one corner of his lip rising as he slows down a bit, allowing you to catch up with him.

“Don’t you dare,” you narrow your eyes at him when he bites his lips to stop himself from laughing. You know what he’s thinking from the way his eyes light up with mirth.

“But I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to,” you roll your eyes, glaring at him, at which he finally lets out a laugh. Sighing exasperatedly, you walk faster, trying to ignore the longing that washes over you. You have to remind yourself that he isn’t your Mingi, regardless of how much he looks or acts like him.

He leads you to the front of an abandoned warehouse, stopping in front of the door. You can hear voices from inside, familiar voices that cause you to freeze up. He allows you a moment to prepare yourself, hand reaching out towards you as if wanting to comfort you, but he thinks better of it when you flinch. He smiles sadly as if he had expected your reaction and opens the door, causing the conversations inside to halt.

You take another deep breath and follow Mingi into the warehouse, peeking at the others from behind Mingi’s tall figure. But, no amount of readiness could have prepared you for the sight in front of you. As soon as your gaze lands on the seven figures, you feel tears poor in your eyes and the familiar sting of heartache tugs at your soul. You can feel your hands trembling, but you clench them against your sides, hoping to appear nonchalant. A traitorous tear slips past your eyes, however, when the feline-eyed boy takes a step towards you and whispers your name with a small, pained smile gracing his lips.

“Do you… maybe want to take a seat?” Hongjoong’s voice is tentative, and you almost snap at him, wanting to tell him that you’re not some cornered animal he has to walk on eggshells around, but stop yourself before you can. He’s not your Hongjoong, and you can’t be mad at him for something someone else did. It wouldn’t be fair to him at all.

“We should leave as soon as possible,” you mentally cheer for yourself when your voice doesn’t crack. “You should wear these, though. We can’t afford to get caught, and those clothes of yours will stand out.”

There’s a beat of silence before all of them jump into action and crowd around your bag, donning the cloaks and masks you had packed. You deliberately look away from them, repeating the words ‘they’re not them’ in your head like a mantra. From the corner of your eye, you do catch Seonghwa’s face pulling into a tentative sort of wince, as if he’s ready for you to burst into tears but ignore him until they’re ready. You face them again when they’re done, noticing that it’s easier to look at them when you can’t see their faces.

“Shall we?”

You hole yourself up in your room for the next few days, and you are thankful that all of them give you some space to tackle the raging emotions inside of you. Returning to the base and seeing all eight of them spread around the space that was used by your comrades was all it took for the controlled facade you built for yourself to break. With a stern warning to not go into any of the eight offices and just stick to the bedrooms, you had rushed to your own, locking yourself up.

You have a stash of non-perishable snacks and some water courtesy of Woo, who had created a small hidden compartment for you to keep them in. And since you have your own bathroom, you really don’t have a reason to leave. You know it’s not right and that you should probably be training them, but you don’t think you’re capable of facing them. Just a few minutes took so much energy from you. How are you supposed to train with them for hours?

You try to clear your mind by doing some yoga, but the clarity brought by it doesn’t last for more than a few minutes, and more often than not, you find yourself sinking back into a pit of despair. Your mind keeps running through memories of your boys, but you feel betrayed. Not just by the fact that they deliberately kept the decoy plan from you but also because you had been kept in the dark about the people you were supposed to bring back to keep The Movement alive. You have so many questions about the reason for their actions, but you can’t really ask anyone. After all, you can never get answers from the dead. And you’re not even sure if you want to find out the answers because you know it will open a whole new can of worms that you would rather keep at bay.

Sighing, you get up from the mess of blankets to grab the water bottle, only to find it empty. A quick scan through your stash shows you that you have no water left in your room. Without much of a choice, you grab your jacket and throw it on before opening your door a crack. You peek out of your room, and since it’s quite late, you don’t hear any movement. Satisfied, you tiptoe past the rooms that line the hallway, not wanting to alert anyone of your movements.

Your plan is foiled when you reach the kitchen and bump into someone, staggering somewhat as the blow makes you lose your footing. An arm steadies you, and you feel the warmth of someone’s cardigan brush against you. Gulping, you brave a look at the person, only to regret it immediately. You find Yunho looking down at you with his brows furrowed in concern. He’s biting his lips as if batting with himself. But then, something shifts, and the storm in his eyes gives way to a softer expression.

“Are you okay?” He asks, releasing you from his hold but not making any effort to create any more distance between the two of you.

“Yeah,” your voice is barely above a whisper, but it rings loud and clear in the silence of the night.

You know he is trying his best not to let his eyes sweep over your form. But even a blind person can notice the worry reflected in his eyes at your disheveled state. With a sigh, he holds out a water bottle for you.

“Drink this and sit down,” his voice is soft but firm, and you don’t resist. It’s easier than being dragged down by your thoughts, anyway. You think he’s about to leave, but much to your surprise, he pulls out two frying pans before grabbing some butter, eggs, and bread.

“What are you doing?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you watch him crack eggs into a bowl.

“Making you a grilled cheese,” he shrugs, your confusion pulling a smile on his lips.

“Why?”

“Well, you have probably been living on snacks for the past couple of days,” he scrunches his nose in distaste, but his voice is laced with compassion and warmth as he grabs a knife from one of the drawers. “And also, it’s the only thing I can cook without burning down the hideout.”

You chuckle involuntarily, watching as his expression lights up at the first happy sound he’s heard from you. He drops some butter into the pan, followed by two slices of bread.

“We were worried about you.”

“Oh,” you mutter, not knowing what else to say.

Comfortable silence encompasses the two of you as he cooks. Images of one of the boys doing something similar crossed your mind. They used to do the exact same thing when you had a nightmare. Though, unlike Yunho, who prepares the meal in silence, the boys would usually tell you stories or make jokes until you were laughing again. You are shaken out of your thoughts when Yunho places grilled cheese and orange juice in front of you.

“Don’t go back to sleep before you have finished all of this, alright?” He hesitates for a moment but pats your head once, “We sort of understand how you’re feeling. But trying to escape from reality won’t do you any good. I hope you can start hanging out with us soon, little Light.”

“Shortie, you can’t be this slow,” Yunho chides you as he hauls you up from the ground, the quick movement disorienting you a bit.

“I’m better than most people at this, though,” you say as you block the incoming hit, dodging all successive attacks Yunho throws at you.

“Yes, but you need to be better.”

“Why?” You whine, ducking just in time for his fist to whoosh past your head.

“Because Captain said so.”

They’ve been training you hard recently, and though you’d appreciate it any other day, you really don’t fancy getting up at the crack of dawn to train with one of them. San and Yunho are usually the worst and leave you feeling achy and wrung out after only a few rounds.

You dodge another attack, but you know that he has the upper hand, and at that moment, as he grins wolfishly at you, you decide to use the one thing you know would take him down and shut him up for the next few days.

‘When aimed correctly, in the right order, and at the right moment, roundhouse kicks can take anyone down. No matter how strong or weak they are,’ San’s voice rings in your ears clear as day. He had shown you the technique a week ago, insisting that you master it as soon as possible.

You see Yunho coming at you for another punch, and you dodge it. He isn’t expecting that and falters on his feet. So, taking the chance, you land a blow of your own. He’s not winded, but he’s surprised and using that to your advantage, you land solid to his kick to his ribs. Unfortunately for you, he grabs your elbow and takes you down with him. He flips you in mid-air, and you find all fight draining instantly when he goes limp.

“Get off,” you groan, trying to push him away from you. “You’re heavy!”

“And you are getting better,” he breathes, smirking down at you even though his lip is bleeding. “Soon, you’ll be able to take all of us down in a fight, little Light.”

The sudden onslaught of memory renders you speechless. A lump forms in your throat, and you freeze in your seat. You can tell that Yunho is unsettled by watching what must have been a storm of emotions reflected in your eyes.

“Don’t,” your voice cracks, but your icy tone is enough for him to take a step back. He gapes at you when you turn your fiery gaze onto him, “Don’t call me Light.”

“What do we call you then?” His voice is a little shaky.

“...Shadow,” Your voice comes out small and strangled.

Yunho blanches, guarded expression faltering instantly, and you swear his eyes well up with tears. But then, before you can think of something to say, he’s walking away, leaving you all alone in the cold kitchen. A sob erupts from your lips faster than you can register the tears falling. You don’t know how to navigate the mess you are in, and unfortunately for you, you do not have the time to.