Ateez X You - Tumblr Posts

I'm most definitely not OKAY send help!!

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, dilf hongjoong, designer hongjoong, kinda sugar daddy joong vibes, fingering, possessiveness, marking, vibrators, nipple clamps, bondage, oral, face sitting, creampies, breeding kink, car sex *not proofread, just pure horny

[HOW TF DID I GET HERE BRUH]

dilf!hongjoong who is a devilishly handsome older man. from his lean body to his salt and pepper hair. from his pretty hands littered with protruding veins and rings to his rosy lips, and from his love-struck eyes to his thick-ass thighs.

dilf!hongjoong who is a hopeless romantic. he always goes all out for date nights; gotta make sure his pretty lady is well wined and dined before he thinks of doing anything else.

dilf!hongjoong who is the human embodiment of the word gentleman; offering his arm for you to cling to when you're walking together or keeping his hand against your lower back to guide you gently, holding his hand out to you when you're walking up steps in heels, carrying you over puddles and uneven terrain.

dilf!hongjoong who has you model all of his prototype designs, who always takes your feedback well and incorporates your ideas into his pieces. he even makes special pieces just for you to wear. he adores seeing you wear his designs; it sparks his possessiveness.

dilf!hongjoong who indulges you all the fucking time. nothing makes him happier than seeing his baby happy. it doesn’t matter what it is, as long he gets to see the smile on your face.

dilf!hongjoong who finds it increasingly amusing to tease you. he’ll sit with his legs spread just to make you ogle at his thighs; especially when he knows his pants hug his legs so well. with this, he loves to have you on his lap. it makes it easier to play with you.

dilf!hongjoong who purposefully wears chunky rings so when he fucks you with his fingers, you feel the cold metal press against you. he’ll have you sit with your back to his chest while in front of a mirror so he can make you watch him play with your wet pussy. he’ll lewdly spread your folds and tease your clit with the metal of his rings.

dilf!hongjoong who adores how flustered you get when he praises you. he rewards you with praises for everything you do, and he loves to see you avoid his eyes as he keeps telling you how good of a job you’re doing.

dilf!hongjoong who fucking loves to have you on top. he loves seeing how fucked out you get when you’re fucking yourself on his cock. his hands never leave your body, they’re either on your thighs, hips, or tits. that being said, he also really likes your tits. like he really does. Loves to hold you to his chest so he can play with your nipples while you ride him.

dilf!hongjoong who can’t keep his lips to himself. he’s a kiss fiend; he wants to steal kisses from you all the time. he’s always down for a good make out session. especially if you're on his lap and grinding your hips into his. Loves the messy makeouts and heavy grinding when you’re both needy but too enthralled with one another to take any clothes off.

dilf!hongjoong who has an ongoing possessive streak. which means that he’s constantly littering your skin with hickeys; but on days you need to look presentable, he’ll settle on having you wear a necklace with his initials that he did in fact design. who knows, he may even give you a matching anklet to dangle around your ankle when he has your legs on his shoulders.

dilf!hongjoong who always eats you out, no matter the time of day. sit on his face, grind your clit on his nose, ride his tongue, make yourself feel good on him; who knows, he may just cum untouched if you ride his face.

dilf!hongjoong who loves to use sex toys and accessories on you. bullet vibes, rabbit vibes, egg vibrators, nipple clamps and all. maybe even some fuzzy handcuffs, silk ribbons, or, his favourite way to tie you up, his ties.

dilf!hongjoong who can’t stop himself from stuffing you full of his cum. your body just reacts to him so well, he can’t help but give you all of his cum in exchange from your pretty moans. becomes absolutely mindless when he cums inside you; he needs to do it over and over again until you’re satisfied.

dilf!hongjoong who has fucked you in the backseat of his car and will do it again. he’s the type to calmly finger you while he drives. like he’s all nonchalant and whatnot, while you’re writhing in the passenger seat when his fingers curl into your sweet spot.

Ugh Im so down bad man why!?

idk why im only now noticing his necklace but I hate that im only now wanting it to dangle in front of my face

IM NOT FUCKING AROUND ANYMORE!!!!! FOR THIS MAN I WOULD SERIOUSLY DO THE WORST AND WITH ZERO REGRETS

this video only makes me think about frat boy hongjoong...

motorboating a girls tits

letting someone pour a drink into his mouth from their mouth

giving someone bedroom eyes from across the room

please feel free to add to this list 🫶

Lover - Choi Jongho

Synopsis: "I thought a love like yours could never be experienced."

Pairing: Choi Jongho x reader

Genre: so much fluff! can't help it when it comes to imagining what domesticated life with Jongho could be like

Word Count: 1.5k

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"Sweetheart? Do you want honey in your tea?" Jongho called out from the kitchen. "Yes, please!"

You were currently situated in the living room, a throw blanket over your lap. Your mother had just sent you photos from your childhood that she found extras of. You asked her to send them to you because you wanted to give Jongho a glimpse of your childhood. You had them in a small pile for the two of you to look through.

You overheard the clinking of what you assume to be a spoon against the cups. Jongho was the type of guy that never overlooked any detail. He liked to be precise, especially when it comes to you. His greatest pride was his ability to look after you.

Glancing up at him, you watched him slowly move into the room. You couldn't help but giggle as he looked nervous that he might slip some of the tea into his head. To help him, you moved the photos to beside you so you could stand up to take one of the mugs from him.

He silently thanked you before setting his mug on the coffee table. Jongho always preferred to let the tea cool down slightly, so he wouldn't burn his tongue. "So how old are some of these pictures?" He asked curiously. "I think some of them are from when I was just 3 or 4, so I was pretty young, so you've been warned."

Jongho rolled his eyes playfully before leaning over to press a lingering kiss into your head. "Would you please stop talking bad about the love of my life, hmm? I quite love how she looks," he murmured into your skin.

His arm wrapped around your shoulder, letting his fingers run up and down your forearm comfortingly. You nodded your head, accepting Jongho's request. You just weren't the biggest fan of your more awkward stages of life.

However, if it was one thing about Jongho, he would always be there to affirm your worth. Your confidence has only grown since getting together. But maybe that was because he quite literally was everything you wished for when you were younger. Setting the photo album in your lap, you opened the first page. There was a photo of you, maybe less than an hour old. It was the photograph of you right after your birth. You were red in the face, probably from all the crying you did being so new to the world. Your hands were closed in tiny fists, eyes squeezed shuts. You cringed slightly seeing your newborn self. Jongho, on the other hand, was in awe to see the beginning of your life.

The next few pages were filled with photos before you entered school. They were photos of you dressed in Halloween costumes, like the one where your grandmother insisted you and your cousins should be pumpkins together when you were 3. Or your favorite when you were 2, the duck costume.

"Mom told me that I basically lived in that costume for the rest of the year," you laughed.

Jongho laughed along with you. He loved seeing the joy on your young face. In nearly every photo, you had a wide smile on your face. You were innocent, not exposed to the stresses of life. All that concerned you was being able to wear that fluffy duck Halloween costume,

As you go through the pages, you were introduced the the versions of yourself you seemed to have forgotten about. There were several photos of you playing different sports - soccer, taekwondo, swimming, and even a summer playing t-ball. Some of the photos were taken by your father at the sporting events, while others were photos taken by a professional photographer to mark the season.

"I always knew my girl was outgoing," Jongho commented. He leaned over to kiss your cheek lingeringly. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but it didn't hide the smile curling on your lips.

Flipping to the next page, you noticed your are entering the school photos. You groaned at the photos from kindergarten and 1st grade, especially. You felt like you were an awkward kid. Your mom cut your hair short when you were younger because you refused to let her help you brush it. You also began to wear glasses. Not to mention the braces that would come on later. A trifecta.

There were of course good memories from your childhood. But you wished to forget these more awkward moments. You were bullied quite a bit in your younger years which took a toll on your mental health well into your adult years.

"Have you ever considered cutting your hair short again?" Jongho asked.

You quickly looked at him, frowning. You pulled your now long hair over the front of your shoulder, looking down at you. That was part of the reason you were so hesitant about getting a haircut now and then. You were afraid of too many inches being taken off and not feeling confident. Your long hair was opposite from what it was when you felt like you were at your lowest. "Do you not like my hair now?" You whispered.

This time, Jongho looked at you. A frown was evident on his lips. He honestly could care less how long or how short your hair was. He thought you were adorable as a child. From just looking at the photos, he could see the bold color of your eyes. That was the first thing he fell for when it came to you.

"No, sweet girl, I love your hair now. But I also like the short hair on you when you were younger. It showed your gorgeous face off to the whole world," he explained. His voice was gentle. He was trying to put the pieces together for your reaction. The last thing Jongho ever wanted to do was upset you.

"Yeah right, Jongho," you sighed as you went to go flip to the next page.

However, he stopped you. His hand rested on top of yours, fingers gently caressing the back of your hand. "I mean it, pretty baby. You were adorable then, you're adorable now. It's amazing to see your journey through photos of how you've grown into the person you are today." His free hand ran over one of the photos.

"You're too good to me, honey," you sighed. Your head rested on his head on your shoulder. "It's the truth," he pouted. "Why don't you believe me?"

You peered up to see Jongho looking at you. You sat up the moment you could tell he was genuinely upset. You furrowed your eyebrows as you turned your body towards him, so you could have a proper conversation. Your left foot was tucked underneath your right which was dangling over the edge of the couch. Your gaze fixated on your hands as you fiddled with them a bit, your anxiety starting to increase.

"I guess I just never saw my worth as a kid, you know? I had people telling me that I wasn't good enough, that I wasn't beautiful. It was hard growing up in my small town where it seemed everyone fit in except me," you explained. "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad I never fit into the mold, but it was still hard."

Jongho gently reached over to hold your hands in his. He lifted them up, kissing your knuckles lingeringly before setting your joined hands in between your bodies. His thumbs gently caressed the back of your hands to try to ease any negative emotions stirring inside of you.

"My sweet girl, my love," he cooed. "Believe me when I say this. You were beautiful then, you are beautiful now. I'm honestly jealous of the people who got to grow up with you because they were lucky. But I guess I'm the lucky one that gets to experience your present and future."

Your heart swelled at his sentiment. You still kept your gaze locked on your interlocked hands. Noticing, Jongho squeezed them which caused you to finally meet his eyes. Your lover was smiling at you with endearment.

"Why don't we stop looking back at the past for a moment? Hmm? We can focus on our future, talk about everything you want to accomplishment and do in this life because I'm not going anywhere," he teased teasingly.

You nodded at his suggestion. Leaning forward, you pressed a lingering kiss into the side of his face. A soft "thank you" was whispered into his skin which caused his cheeks to heat up. Even after all this time, he still blushed like he did on the first date. If anything, the emotions he felt towards you were stronger than ever before.

That night, the two of you cuddled up on the couch. You talked about your goals for the next five, next ten years. While you were uncertain of the obstacles you might encounter, there was a reassuring aspect knowing Jongho was in it for the long haul.

He was devoted to you. He was in love with all parts of you - past, present, and future. And he would spend the rest of his days reminding you of that.

That's what he wanted, at least - to be your lover unconditionally.

Black And White - Kim Hongjoong

Synopsis: Weddings are always happy occasions. You've always loved watching two people showcase their love in such a momentous way. It made you wonder if one day, you too will get married.

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x fem. reader

Genre: Flufffffff, established relationship, long-term dating, talks of the future

Word Count: 2k

Hongjoong sat in the black cushioned folding chair. It was a gorgeous venue. It was an old warehouse that was rented out for the intimate wedding. He was amazed at how the decorators were able to transform the space so rather than feeling cold and empty, it was filled with so much warmth and love to mark the special occasion.

When you told Hongjoong about the wedding, he got excited. Not just to be able to go. To be honest, he wasn't sure if you wanted him to go anyway. Your childhood best friend was getting married, after all.

That is why he was a bit apprehensive about attending the wedding. To an extent, you two were still getting to know each other. He never thought wanted you to feel pressured you had to take the relationship in a certain direction. He was just content with being exclusively yours.

Over the past few months, you have been more introduced to his world. You knew all his friends very well, often hanging out together. Hongjoong has met some of your coworkers when he has picked you up after work or attended the company's holiday party. He just hasn't met the people that meant the most to you, which is what terrified him.

To Hongjoong, winning over the people closest to you made him the most nervous. He could easily go on stage and perform his heart out. Hell, you could say the president of South Korea was in attendance and he'd own the stage. It was his comfort zone. He wasn't even nervous to meet your parents. It was your best friend who terrified him.

And not because she was intimidating. From everything you've said about her, she basically walked on water. The two of you have been friends since you were 11 years old. You've known your best friend longer than he's known his members!

Despite the distance since you moved to Korea, you chatted nearly every day. He was convinced you spoke to her more than him on some days. He wasn't jealous of that fact either. If anything, he was more appreciative and thankful you had such a loyal person in your life. Your best friend championed you unlike any other, and you did the same for her.

However, that is where the immense pressure to win over your best friend stems from. What if she didn't approve of him? What if your best friend believed you deserved better? Would you listen to her and leave?

One thing was for certain is that Hongjoong could not afford to lose you. For the first time in his life, he was experiencing the love he's watched on the big screen. He never thought he would be one of the lucky ones to find such a perfect partner. You constantly went above and beyond for him, and he was trying his best to love you twice as much. He believed you deserved the whole world, and he wanted to be the one to give it to you.

His inner monologue was disrupted as soft instrumental music began to play. People around him rose to their feet, and he followed suit.

You were concerned about Hongjoong being in the audience for the ceremony. He was your plus one, whereas your best friend asked you to be in the bridal party. But Hongjoong couldn't complain. He got the best view in the whole venue.

As if on cue, he noticed the back doors open. He turned to his side as he saw the bridesmaids and the respective groomsmen make their way down the aisle. Hongjoong was trying his best to remember the names of those you pointed out before. There were a few other friends of the bride you, and a few of the groomsmen you knew.

He smiled politely as the pairs began their walk down the aisle. However, he kept glancing over his shoulder once they passed. He just had to see you.

His heart stopped as he could see you behind another pair. You were making light conversation with the man who was walking with you down the aisle. He was the groom's best friend. You were the two people who have heard about this beautiful marriage leading up to this momentous day.

Hongjoong just couldn't take his eyes off you. Your best friend decided everyone would wear the same color - a light blue that some could describe as Tiffany blue. Yet, each bridesmaid dress was unique to the woman wearing it. It was unconventional but that's what Hongjoong loved. He loved seeing all the different dresses each person chose.

Undoubtedly, his favorite was yours. It was an A-Line floor-length dress. There was a slit running up the left side of the dress, stopping at your mid thigh. You were always the type of person who loved the freedom to move around. The sleeves were ruffled, possibly made out of chiffon. It tied in the back, a pretty bow resting against on your upper back. You looked heavenly.

You wore a wide smile as you looked at the groom. You often gushed about their relationship, especially since you were certain from the moment you met the man at the altar that he would end up marrying your best friend.

However, Hongjoong noticed your eyes would leave the altar every now and then. He couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong if you were okay. You didn't seem tense. This was the disadvantage of not being a part of the ceremony. He couldn't attend to your needs right away.

But when your eyes met his eyes, you visibly became more relaxed. You smiled at him lovingly. And he looked at you like you were made out of the most precious gems. "Wow," he mouthed to you. You couldn't help but blush before turning away. While you wanted nothing more than to rush over to kiss your lover, you couldn't This was your best friend's big day.

"So when is the wedding?" A voice came from Hongjoong's left side.

Curiously, Hongjoong looked to his side away from you. There was an elderly man with a smirk on his face. He looked at Hongjoong, waiting for a response. However, Hongjoong was terribly confused.

"Sir, we're at the wedding now. It's beginning," he whispered, not wanting to speak too loudly to cause a distraction.

The old man chuckled and shook his head. "No, not this one. I'm not that old. I'm speaking of the one between you and your girl. I'm guessing a summer wedding?"

Hongjoong's eyes widened. His heart was doing flips in his chest, nearly jumping out. His body filled with warmth, not sure if it was the nervousness of having to say no or the idea of marrying you that made him feel so tingly.

"We haven't selected a date yet," Hongjoong whispered.

The old man seemed satisfied at the response before turning back towards the aisle. Everyone around him was gasping softly as the bride made her way down the aisle. Yet, Hongjoong couldn't look anywhere but up at you.

At first, your eyes were on your best friend walking down the aisle. Seeing her so content, so happy did your heart well. Your best friend has been waiting for this moment since you guys discovered Pinterest and made boards when you were in junior high. You couldn't help but have your eyes wonder towards the crowd.

To your surprise, Hongjoong was staring at you with the widest grin on his lips. Your chest filled with warmth and cheeks heated up.

Maybe one day the two of you will be at this milestone. You sure hoped so.

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Throughout the ceremony, Hongjoong's eyes didn't leave you once. He couldn't help but picture you one day wearing a white dress. Hell, maybe even a different color. All he wanted was you.

The two of you were over by the bar. Everyone had filed in as they made their way from the ceremony venue to the reception hall. The bride and groom were making their rounds to interact with everyone who came to celebrate their special day. For the time being though, you and Hongjoong were soaking up every opportunity to just focus on one another.

"You clean up nicely, baby," you teased him.

He rolled his eyes playfully but had a wide smile on his lips. The two of you were sipping the signature cocktails of the bride and groom. For you, you opted for your best friend's favorite, a bay breeze. Hongjoong was sipping a whiskey sour, the favorite of the groom.

"Have to dress my best when I've got the best date," he chuckled. His lips pressed against the corner of your mouth. He then pressed tiny kisses along your cheek heading to the earlobe. You shivered at the feeling but your body felt warm and tingly, and it wasn't due to the alcohol. Hongjoong always had this way of making you feel on fire in the best way possible through his displays of affection.

One hand rested on his arm while the other held your drink. He wrapped his arm around your body, pulling you in closer. His thumb gently caressed your lower back. You giggled when you felt his breath hitting the shell of your ear. "Couldn't take my eyes off of you, sweet girl," he murmured. For an added effect, he grazed his teeth along the shell of your ear. He knew it drove you wild.

You whined out gently. "Baby, please."

He knew he had to keep himself tame for now. He'll show you how much he enjoyed the view once you were alone. For now though, he'd do everything he could to make you feel like the only woman in existence. Because in his eyes, you were just that. Nothing else mattered besides you.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," a voice spoke from beside you. You pulled back slightly, but not enough to step out of Hongjoong's arm. Not that he would let you anyway. If anything, his grip tightened a bit to hold you closer.

Looking over, you grinned to see your best friend with her new husband. You set your glass down on the counter of the bar. Sensing your excitement, Hongjoong let go of you. And just in time too because you threw your arms around your best friend. Hongjoong and your best friend's husband share a laugh.

She hugged you back tightly before you two slowly let go of each other. Hongjoong wrapped his arm loosely around you but turned to politely address the happy couple in front of him. Maybe it was the sips of alcohol helping his confidence, or the words from the stranger during the ceremony, but the nerves leading up to this day subsided. It felt odd to be the nervous one giving the milestone the couple in front of the two of you just experienced.

"So you're the man who's captured my best friend's heart, huh?" Your best friend asked teasingly. "Well if anything, she's got me wrapped around your finger and I pray every day she doesn't let me go."

Your best friend grinned at the response. Hongjoong up by one point.

The conversation between the four of you flowed easily. Your best friend asked her typical interrogation questions, which made you internally groan. Hongjoong wasn't fazed by any of it. Most of your exes in the best would have frozen and spewed out whatever. Not Hongjoong. he answered honestly.

"So where do you see this going? Because my best friend is the whole world and she deserves it." "And I couldn't agree more," Hongjoong answered. "And truth be told, if you asked me yesterday, I would've said that we are taking it one day at a time." "But?" "But now? I want everything with her." Hongjoong looked down at you, seeing your shocked expression. He couldn't wipe the grin off his face.

"Everything and anything as long as you're by my side." He no longer spoke to your best friend. He was speaking directly to you. Your smile was wide, which eased Hongjoong's heart when he noticed your eyes tearing up. His lips pressed firmly against your forehead before looking at the married couple.

One day, you two will be there. He was certain of it.

Call It What You Want - Kang Yeosang

Synopsis: Yeosang was a mysterious guy on your campus. He was the guy who was at every party thrown, but also would spend hours studying in the library. He got good grades but could also drink more than fraternity brother. He was a puzzle that you were trying to figure out. Little did you know, you were the missing piece to his own puzzle.

"Are labels really that important when I am 100% certain about my feelings for you?"

Pairing: non-idol!Kang Yeosang x reader

Genre: Angst - unofficial relationship, uncertainty, friends with benefits turned to lovers.

Warnings: PG-13 - contains implied sexual intercourse, alcohol consumption, implied female masturbation

Word Count: 4.3k

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Yeosang was a mysterious man, even to those that personally knew him. He never really let off what his emotions were right away.

He was a man capable of multiple things. He had two personalities - one that was a tough, rigid guy who had his mind set on one thing. It would be impossible to get him to reconsider. He then also had this soft side of his personality that lured people in. Yeosang was always calm and composed. Overall though, he was like royalty. People worshipped the ground he walked on.

You were tucked away in his world. You got to experience both sides of him and then more. A lot more.

Your chest was rising and falling, holding Yeosang's comforter up to your chest. This was a regular routine for you and Yeosang. Every week, at some point or another, you would find yourself in his bed.

Last night, tequila was the motivating factor that led you into his bedroom. It started off innocent, Yeosang just checking in on you. You both were at the same party, but attended with different people. However, once you spotted him and the alcohol settled in your system, you decided it was only appropriate you grinded your hips back into him.

Eagerly, Yeosang ordered an Uber for the two of you. You couldn't remember much once you stepped into his apartment except for the quiet giggles, hands all over each other, and rushes kisses.

And now here you were. It was 8:08am. It was always a rush to be sleeping with Yeosang, but lately, you were craving more. More than just what friends with benefits are meant to be.

Yeosang and you met after being in the same writing seminar freshman year. It was a requirement for first years, to help them get accustomed to the writing styles expected of them. The two of you didn't take the class too seriously, often coming in late or skipping all together. You weren't expecting to be friends with Yeosang, considering he was rather quiet in class.

That's how the friendship began to blossom. You would hang out either at his apartment or yours. It was also how you got close with Yeosang's roommates - Yunho, San, Mingi, and Wooyoung.

You two quickly became friends on an intimate level. It started when you were confiding in Wooyoung how frustrated you were with meeting guys on Tinder. With your busy schedule, you weren't really trying to date in college. Yet, you still had needs. You figured one night stands would end up being your best option, but each guy left you more disappointed than the one before.

Big mistake in confiding in Wooyoung. Word quickly spread to Yeosang, who offered himself to help with your situation.

At first, you thought he was just mocking you. Sure, you could resort to masturbation or buying sex toys, but you loved the feeling of someone's body on yours. You craved the feeling of wandering hands on your skin, causing the goosebumps to rise and your heart to race with excitement. You even wanted to spend minutes rushing to cover up hickies before going to lectures.

You just had no idea how happy Yeosang was to help you out.

It started by hooking up when you were the most stressed - two days before exam day. You would spend the week trying to study as much as possible. Yet, Yeosang always noticed the way you would increasingly hunch over the table. It was as if you were being consumed by the stress and sex was the only remedy.

Soon, once a week became twice a week. You'd hit up Yeosang late at night, often when you were feeling the most lonely. And every time, Yeosang was wide awake and waiting for you with open arms. He would either make sweet love to you, reminding you of how cherished you are, or he would be willing to fuck you into his mattress.

Now, twice a week was almost every other night. You were over at Yeosang's more than you were at your own apartment. There even was a toothbrush waiting for you in his bedroom.

As seniors in college, things were starting to shift for you.

"Surprised you are up, darlin.'"

You jumped slightly at the sound of the deep voice behind you. He snickered before moving to wrap an arm around you, pulling you in closer to him. "Not like you to be up this early," he murmured. You felt yourself shiver, your heart racing, as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck.

The Yoesang campus knew would have never guessed he used pet names the way he just casually dropped them with you. If anything, they were probably convinced he had a stone-cold heart as he rarely showed emotion to others. The only time he seemed happy was if he was with his usual group.

But if you saw him walking alone through campus? His gaze was locked in front of him. He never smiled at people he passed, so people often avoided him.

"I'm also not the type of person to drink that much tequila," you sighed. Your face was moving to burrow into the pillow beneath you, which only made Yeosang laugh more.

Deep down, you knew you couldn't get tired of Yeosang. The physical chemistry between the two of you was undeniable. He also has become such a pivotal part of your life, as someone you confided in. He saw you truly at your lowest and highest.

I guess that is what made it easy to fall for him. The way he treated you made you feel like a princess. You couldn't help but wonder if there was something more than just friends with benefits.

As your dating life hit obstacles, Yeosang was quick to remind you of your worth. He would take you out into the city, treating you to dinner or attending events with you. He was also rather affectionate with you, a quickly you didn't see often even with his closest friends. He seemed a bit standoffish to the rest of the world. Yet, with you, you were the one that seemed to crack the code of who was Kang Yeosang.

There was no way you would dare to open up that conversation. For the most part, you were content with just being friends with benefits. Emphasis on the friends part. He was too important in your life just to allow the rush of butterflies to override your brain. Part of you was convinced that you only felt this way about Yeosang was because you had been single for some time now, and Yeosang offered everything that you wanted in a partner.

You only seemed to allow yourself to play into that fantasy when you were alone in your bedroom. Often, with your fingertips playing with your clit as you would close your eyes to think what it would be like to be Kang Yeosang's girlfriend.

"I think I'm going to hop in the shower. Care to join me for round 2?" "As much as I'd love that, I think I need to get something in my stomach." "Yeah, of course. Why don't you let me shower up real quick and we'll figure out where to go, ok?"

Just another reason why you adored Yeosang. He never pressured you to have sex with him, even though you often felt things were one-sided between the two of you. It was always you messaging him first, always you who orgasmed first. Sometimes, you wished Yeosang would be selfish and ask for you to come over.

As Yeosang slipped into his bedroom, you took the time to slip on one of Yeosang's shirt. He never seemed to mind, as you often left his place wearing one of his shirts. You were positive three or four had claimed refuge in your dresser. Before you ventured downstairs, you also made sure to slip on a pair of clean boxers from Yeosang's own dresser.

Hearing the shower head turn on, you slipped downstairs. You heard a slight commotion from downstairs. But you didn't need to see to already know the rest of the house was up and active.

"And look who it is. Mrs. Kang, nice of you to show your face instead of just hearing you," Mingi called out with a playful smirk.

The rest of the boys were crowded around the kitchen island, eating cereal except for San. He had his back turned towards you and the rest of the group. They were all snickering at Mingi's comment but quickly stopped when you smacked the back of Mingi's head.

"Where is the boyfriend anyways? Still asleep?" Yunho asked. "First of all, he is not my boyfriend. Second, could it kill any of you to make coffee?" You playfully whined. "Already on it, chief," San called out.

He stepped to reveal the glorious sight coffee being brewed in the coffee pot. You could just kiss San right now! "At least I can always depend on you, San," you said playfully.

All the boys were special to you, all thanks to Yeosang. They easily became like brothers of your own, having a special place in your heart. You kissed San's cheek gently before going to retrieve two coffee mugs for you, San, and Yeosang who would eventually appear.

"Don't let Yeosang see you. He might get jealous," Wooyoung laughed. "Unless that's her aim. You know, jealousy sex is the best especially when your boyfriend thinks you're into one of his friends." "And how would you know?" San asked, an eyebrow raised. "Your room isn't next to theirs." Your cheeks were flushed bright red. Maybe you should have stuck it out in the shower with Yeosang. You'd be safe from the ridicule and probably on your second orgasm by now.

"Yeosang isn't my boyfriend," you sighed. "Really? But that's the contact name he has saved for you in his phone."

The room suddenly got dead silent. All eyes were shifted to Wooyoung who was staring at your like a deer caught in headlights. You were staring forward, facing the cabinets before slowing turning around. Your heart had dropped to your stomach yet picked up again, both with curiosity and excitement.

Okay, maybe you were really into Yeosang.

"What did you say?" You voice was softer. "You know, I don't really know what I'm talking about. It could have been anyone." "Wooyoung!" Yunho hissed. "Shut the fuck up."

Your heart broke again, but this time shattered into pieces. That could also be true. You and Yeosang hadn't quite put a label on the two of you. It just seemed to be a mutual understanding that you were best friends who occasionally had sex. Friends with benefits. That was it, right?

Technically, he was free to see anyone else. At any point, your little scenario could come to an end when one of you finds a significant other. it was something you had acknowledged, but something you hadn't put much thought into.

You chewed on your bottom lip, as your heart and mind were arguing with each other. You hadn't even noticed your eyes were becoming glossy at the thought that Yeosang might be into someone that wasn't you. San's hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality.

"Y/n? Are you ok?"

It was then you became hyperaware that all eyes were on you. Wooyoung looked apologetically, as they were all concerned for you.

"You know, I forgot I promised to study today with a few friends. I'll catch you guys later."

Before any of them could stop you, you began rushing upstairs to Yeosang's room. Luckily, the shower was still running so you could make your great escape. You slipped on your sweatpants and jacket, gathering all your belongings into your purse.

The shower suddenly stopped. Fuck.

You bolted out of the room just as the door was opening from the bathroom, light and steam escaping into the hallway. You had made it halfway down the staircase when Yeosang seemed to call out to you. But you didn't have the guts to turn back around. Not when you felt like you couldn't breathe.

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"You just ran out of there?!" Hongjoong asked.

You groaned as out loud as you could, not too loud though as you didn't want to draw attention to yourself. After running out, you tried distracting yourself around your apartment but it was no use. This called for an emergency meeting with your best friend, Kim Hongjoong.

Hongjoong was a sophomore when you met him as a freshman. He kindly held your hair when you were throwing up at his house party, and you've been joined at the hip since. Hongjoong was attending grad school much to your benefit. He was still available for 911 Boy Trouble calls.

Tonight, you therapy session was over a pitcher of cocktails at your local college bar. Hongjoong knew all about Yeosang, as he too thought you two were together.

"What else was I supposed to do? Wooyoung blurted that apparently I'm Yeosang's girlfriend without him even saying so? And then brought up the fact that it might've been someone else? They had a front row view to me falling apart." "Remind me to smack some sense into Wooyoung." "I think Yunho already beat you to that one," you laughed softly. "Have you talked to Yeosang since?"

You shook your head, staring down into the pitcher of your drink. Your local college bar was known for these pitchers, putting gummies in them for an extra treat. You were staring down basically into a swimming pool of gummy worms and sweet alcohol.

Yeosang has been trying to call you all day today, probably confused why you got up and ran out. it was very unlike you, especially not to tell him your whereabouts. You were sure his roommates were filling him in though about what went down in the kitchen. The last thing you wanted was to confess why exactly you ran out of the apartment.

Hongjoong didn't say anything at first. And it was starting to scare you. Did he also know something you didn't? You peered up to see Hongjoong almost staring through you. You raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out what was going on. It became clear that he was looking behind you, which naturally made you turn around.

Once again, you felt your heart shatter. You didn't want to become accustomed to this feeling, but it was getting worse each time.

There were Yeosang, San, and Mingi. Wooyoung and Yunho had found themselves at the bar, probably ordering for the group. Normally, you would have been elated to see the group and probably would have gone over. That is, if there wasn't a girl sandwiched between Yeosang and San.

Who was she? Was she with Yeosang or San? Was this the alleged girlfriend Wooyoung actually was referring to?

"Y/n, don't even bother," Hongjoong began.

Quickly turning back around, you downed your drink. Hongjoong's eyes widened as he watched you, still halfway through his first one. He's seen you drink before, but not that quickly.

This evening was definitely taking a turn.

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"Y/n, come on. We're going home," Hongjoong announced.

He was trying his best to sound stern with you, but he was honestly concerned about you. He has never seen this bad before. He's never seen anyone drink 5 pitchers without splitting them with someone. It was as if you were trying to prove to yourself you could live a life without Yeosang in it.

"Nooooo," you whined out. "Just one more, Joongie, please." "Absolutely not. We are going home."

He was trying his best to get you outside, so he could order an Uber for the two of you. Hongjoong had a few drinks, trying to keep up with you, but still sober enough to know getting behind the wheel was the worse thing for the two of you. All he wanted was to get you in your apartment, get some water in your system, and tuck you into bed.

Hongjoong was trying to keep you stable, as you were swaying back and forth. You made numerous attempts to go up to the bar to order for yourself, but the bartender refused. You then had tried getting Hongjoong to buy you another drink, but he had already bought 5 out of your 6 rounds. It was time to call quits.

"Look, I know you're upset, y/n, sweetheart. But this isn't going to help you. You're going to have a massive headache in the morning and be even more upset." "But I want to stay."

People were staring at you. Of course, there were tales of people getting too crazy at the bar. You just never thought you would be one of those people.

"Hongjoong, you heard her." A voice announced from the two of you. "She doesn't want to leave."

Looking over your shoulder, you scoffed to see it was Yeosang standing behind you. His friends including the mystery girl, and everyone at the bar, were watching the three of you. Your hands were resting on Hongjoong's arms, so you wouldn't go slipping onto the floor since your legs were wobbly.

"Maybe you can talk some sense into her?" Hongjoong reasoned.

Getting a look at you, Yeosang then realized that Hongjoong was just trying to do the right thing. Your skin was pale from all the alcohol and lack of food you consumed. Your eyes were glazed over, as you tried your best to maintain eye contact. You did need to go home.

"Sweet girl, he's right. You need to go home." "And why should I?" you slurred. "Just to have sex with you again and have you drop me?" "You know I'd never do that to you," he responded, his voice stern.

Yeosang glanced between you and Hongjoong, nodding. He extended his arms, knowing you couldn't walk on your own but offering for Hongjoong to pass you off to him. Slowly, Hongjoong brought you into Yeosang's arms.

Once he had you in his arms, he made sure one arm was wrapped around you to support you up. He flexed his arms just for the support and to pull you in close to him. His other hand had cupped your cheek, causing you to look up at him slowly. He offered a gentle smile to which made you still feel all warm and tingly despite the amount of times you wanted to cry over him today. Damn him.

"Come on, angel. We are going to go home, ok?"

There were murmurs around the two of you. Surprised to see Yeosang show an ounce of kindness.

"Is the Uber already ordered?" Hongjoong shook his head but did pull out his phone. "No, I was going to wait until we got outside. I thought the cool air might help her, but I can order it for the two of you. Just text me when you get her home?"

Yeosang thanked quickly before helping you out of the bar. He could care less about his reputation of being a lone wolf, someone not to be messed with, dissolved just by his actions. All that mattered was getting you home.

Luckily, the Uber was right around the corner. Perks of going to a university in a major city. Yeosang held you up right still. His hand now tucking strands of his hair behind your ear as he looked at you softly yet with so much concern. God, it felt like your heart was going to combust.

"What's going on, sweetheart? You have been hard to reach all day, and now you don't tell me when you plan on drinking? You know I like to be in the same room just to make sure you're okay." "And interrupt your date? No thanks," you huffed. "Date? You think San is my type?"

Your eyes narrowed in on him, and he realized it was no joking matter. His hand came back to cup your cheek, keeping your eyes locked on his. He desperately wanted to figure out what was troubling your mind.

"Yeosang, I saw you. You were on a date with some girl. Wooyoung also said you had a girlfriend. I thought I was more than a side piece to you!"

Before Yeosang could answer, the Uber pulled up. He rolled down the window, asking if it was for Hongjoong for which Yeosang just played along. He definitely owed your friend for this favor.

The Uber driver unlocked the backdoor, allowing Yeosang to open it. He helped you in, making sure you didn't knock your knees against the back of the passenger seat or fall over. He then leaned over to buckle you in. You were his priority.

"Y/n, I can promise you that she is not my girlfriend," he whispered.

Once again, you scoffed at him. How stupid did he think you were? That just because you had a bit to drink that you'd believe every word he said? Your arms crossed over your chest, turning away from him. Yeosang couldn't help but smirk and snicker at you. He never realized how adorable you could get when you were frustrated especially at him.

Not wanting to keep the driver waiting, Yeosang quickly jogged around to the opposite side of the car. Just where you were looking at. You groaned as his eyes met yours once the door was open and he slid in.

Great.

Yeosang buckled up, so that the driver wouldn't get annoyed with you two. Plus, the quicker you could get home, the sooner you could be put to bed.

"Y/n, I mean it. That is not my girlfriend. She's one of Yunho's friends. He is actually trying to set her up with San." "Then why were you sitting beside her?"

He chuckled as he noticed you were jealous on top of being drunk. Interesting. Yeosang leaned in gently to press a kiss to your cheek, moving his lips to whisper into your ear.

"Just didn't want to make her feel trapped with San. I didn't want to put her in the corner where she was stuck with San. I could easily get up if she wanted to leave," he explained. "Better question though, my dear, is are you jealous?"

Your eyes widened and jaw dropped. You were trying to rack through all the excuses you could come up with, but your drunk mind was failing you. Everyone knew you to be quick on your feet. Not tonight.

"And what if I am?" You asked softly. "I like knowing you are jealous and protective of me," he smirked. "I mean, if anyone is my girlfriend, it would be you."

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Your eyes fluttered once again, just like yesterday. Immediately, you groaned as there was a sharp headache. The brightness in your bedroom didn't help either.

"Good morning, sweet girl."

It was then your eyes shot open. What? You looked over beside you to see Yeosang, shirtless, in your bed. You looked down to see you had gotten changed out of the black tube top and ripped jeans into an oversized shirt. One of Yeosang's that was stored at your place.

"We didn't-" "Hell no. You're extremely attractive, y/n, but you were so drunk. I didn't want to take disadvantage of you, so you yelled at me, got changed into one of my shirts, and fell asleep. I just moved you so you were more comfortable in bed."

You nodded slowly, chewing on your bottom lip. You yelled at him? "Sorry," you muttered.

"No, it's ok. I kind of deserved it."

What was he talking about now? It was getting exhausting that everyone else seemed to have an idea of what was going on besides you.

"Something about how I'm not honest with you. And that if you were actually my girlfriend, you would actually say it then pretending we just fuck like bunnies." "I mean, it's true," you sighed.

Yeosang nodded understandably. He never met to drag out confessing his feelings for you. Truthfully, Yeosang had never been good at expressing his emotions. He liked the fact that you spent so much time together that a lot of people assumed you were together. He just believed you two were on the same page without needing to communicate it.

"Are labels really that important when I am 100% certain about my feelings for you?"

Now you made full eye contact with him. You were laying on your back as he was propped up on his side, turned towards you. Even after seeing you at your messiest, he still looked at you like you were the rarest gem found.

"Some sort of indicator that you like me like that would have been helpful, Yeosang," you whispered. "Does this help?"

Slowly, he moved to hover above you. His hand slid over to hold your hip, squeezing your hipbone affectionately. The other hand moved to cup your face. There was no doubt in his mind. He leaned in slowly to press his lips against you.

He kissed you with everything in him. All the words unspoken were communicated through that kiss. The force of his lips pushed your head back into the pillow slightly, but you were quick to reciprocate. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers running through his hair which caused him to smile into the kiss.

"Call it whatever you want, baby. If you want to be boyfriend and girlfriend, we are. I already know you're all mine, and I don't want to shy away from it anymore," he murmured against your lips.

You pulled back, so you could look into his eyes. This time, he was one nervously biting his lip. Did he say too much? Did he say the wrong thing? Fuck, he's never been this nervous before. "I'm yours and you're all mine," you vowed. "Let's just never let Wooyoung decide our next move before we do." "Deal."

One Day At A Time - Choi San

Synopsis: Work is a major source of anxiety for you. You try your best to leave the stressors of your job at work, but sometimes, the little voices in your head get louder the moment you walk in the front door. Luckily for you, your boyfriend San is there to rid of every worry you might have.

Pairing: Idol!Choi San x Teacher!Reader

Genre: established relationship, fluffy comfort

Warnings: contains descriptions of anxiety.

Always remember to take care of yourself, whether you have anxiety or experience any other type of mental health decline. You are stronger than your toughest days. My DMs are always open if you need to talk/vent!

Word Count: 1.7k

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Your shoulders were slumped as you trudged up the steps to your apartment. All you wanted to do was curl up underneath the covers of your bed and hide from the rest of the world.

This was an ongoing feeling when you came home from your job. Often, you give all your energy in the classroom so it is easy to disassociate because of the low energy level you had once you exited the classroom. You would give your 100% to your students.

Today, you began to question if it was worth it. Not when your principal viewed you as falling short of expectations. You always found yourself working on lesson plans, on PowerPoints, and on other deliverables. All you wanted was to give your students everything but it still seemed like it wasn't enough.

Slowly, you slipped your shoes off by the door and placed your pink backpack on the floor. Not even shrugging off your jacket made the weight you feel lighter.

"Baby? Are you home?"

Your heart fluttered at the sound of your boyfriend. San. Your wonderful, amazing San. He was the ideal boyfriend, almost too perfect. He was there to let you rehearse lesson plans with you, letting you practice your delivery over and over again. You always heard the first year of teaching was the hardest, but this felt impossible. Yet, San was not going to let you give up on your craft.

He was constantly cheering you on. When you came home tired from a long day at work, he was there with a glass of wine ready to help you decompress. Often, he slipped little notes of encouragement either in your backpack or in the lunch. It was as if he knew those notes were your encouragement to get through the hard days.

When you decided to become a teacher, you thought that your toughest obstacle would be connecting with your students and handling uncomfortable parent-teacher conversations. What you didn't consider was having passive-aggressive school leadership that made it difficult to approach.

Honestly, most of your anxiety from your principal. Every single time you saw her, you felt your chest tighten. She was just unpredictable. You felt like you were walking on egg shells around her.

"Yeah, it's me," you called out.

Immediately, footsteps began to descend from the bedroom into the main part of the apartment. His footsteps sounded urgent as the padding of his feet hit the wooden floor.

All you could do was stand there. You didn't like being this type of person, not when San dropped everything for you. There was a part of you deep down that felt guilty because you know how crazy his schedule is. Yet, he still makes sure you know and never doubt not only his intentions with you but that he was constantly going to be here for you.

His heart broke at the sight. You looked so defeated, so burnt out. San knew your passion for education and making a difference. It was one of the reasons why San fell for you.

Yet, what he didn't like was that his angel was clearly upset.

"Bad day?" "The worst day."

If only he could absorb all your sadness. Honestly, he adored watching you on the day-to-day prepping for your students. You genuinely enjoyed that aspect of the job, learning the material and discovering the best methods of presenting it to your students. He always saw the passion and drive you held.

It was like you were center stage when you stood in front of the TV in the living room and presented the lesson to him as if he was one of your students.

Yet, right now, it looked like you were completely drained. And hated that.

Words didn't need to be exchanged. He knew what you needed, especially as you stood in front of him with tears in your eyes. The moment he saw a few were threatening to fall, he jumped into action.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close. One of your favorite things about San was his hugs. It was as if he tried to squeeze all the sadness out of you. He made sure to keep one arm wrapped around you, so his fingertips could run up and down your spine. Your head nuzzled into his shoulders where your tears immediately began to soak the black t-shirt he had slipped on.

"I've got you. You can let it out. Whatever you need, sweet girl. I'm ready to give it all to you," he murmured to you.

Tiny kisses to your head were placed. His free hand moved to let the hair fall from the scrunch that had your hair pulled back into a low bun. He slipped the scrunch around his own wrist, ready for duty if needed. However, he knew one of the things you looked forward to doing when you stepped through the door was letting your hair down.

And it worked almost every time. Tonight, you needed something a bit extra.

"It was awful," you murmured into his clothed shoulder.

San knew immediately what you were talking about. You've been anxious over the past week and a half about your mid-year review at work. The anxiety only got worse when you received the Google Calendar invite.

Nothing could have prepared you for the shit show you walked into. It seemed as if everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong. And San hated knowing all the hard work you put in was not getting acknowledged. You've been warned about coworkers how the first mid-year review tends to go. She tends to lean in hard, almost showing no remorse.

It felt like you had gone to a squaring match with a grizzly bear with no protection. You felt like you were beaten down to a pulp.

"What can I do for you?"

Once again, San proved that he was the best guy. Even after a long day of rehearsals for Coachella next month, he was in boyfriend mode. You tried your best to pour just as much love as possible back into him. Often, you wonder what you did to get so lucky to get such a considerate guy.

Not to mention he was attractive. He was honestly a dream come true. But to San, he was the one living the dream come true. You were his world, his princess. He would move mountains for you if you asked. You pulled your head back, so he could hear you better. "Just be here. Please. I don't want to talk about it."

That's all San needed to hear. With ease, he lifted you up and kept his hands underneath you to support you. Your arms wrapped around San's neck with your fingers running through the hair at the back of his head. This was what you always did as a comfort, and it also benefitted San because he loved the feeling of your hands on him.

He walked the two of you over to the couch. He knew in the moments you got emotional, you either wanted to be close like this or sprawl out. The couch offered the opportunity to switch if you desired, or he would be willing to carry you to your shared bedroom. You had San wrapped around your finger, but you didn't even know.

Everyone always commented on how he looked at you. His gaze always got compared to a Disney prince. You never doubted his love for you, but you almost couldn't believe it. San has never been happier, even when his members might tease him a bit about being whipped.

San had got himself situated on the couch. His hands left from beneath you to wrap fully around you. His arms pulled you in close, which caused you to sigh in relief. Both to be wrapped up in his arms but also feel his body heat against your body. The sigh was a good sign that you were on the road to recovery from your harsh day.

"You are such a hard worker, doll," he whispered into your ear. He kissed your cheek lingeringly. Your eyes fluttered shut to just soak in the moment of being this close with him.

"Watching everything you've done for your kids, your classroom, your school community. They are foolish for not recognizing what an outstanding teacher you are. But I see it, your coworkers see it. Your kiddos are so lucky to have such a caring, amazing teacher as you."

You sniffled as the tears began to fall again. The ache in your soul was being replaced with the love San had for you. Your heart was swelling with the amount of gratitude and love you had for him.

He was convinced each day that he fell harder in love with you. Everything he did was to make you happy in this shared life together.

"I don't wanna go back there," you sighed. "Just want to stay in your arms. You don't think the guys would mind?"

There's the woman he knew well. San wasn't afraid to conquer the hard days with you. He adored experiencing life with you. Yet, he never liked seeing you upset. When you were joking around, that was the woman he knew. You were starting to feel better, and he took pride that he was responsible for that.

"No, the guys won't mind. They know you're my everything. Do you think you can learn the choreography quick enough though?" "You know, I wanted to be a professional dancer when I was little."

His eyes widened slightly and a smile was on his lips. Even with your slightly puffy eyes and your red, runny nose, - he still viewed you as the most gorgeous woman in the world. And you were all his.

"Full of surprises, y/n. Always keeping me on my toes." "Me? What about you? You come home from a hard day of dancing, of probably jumping," you giggled.

He also shared that laughter with you. San definitely had gained quite the reputation for his wild dance moves and impressive but dangerous jumping ability. Hey, whatever happened in the KQ practice room, stays in the KQ practice room.

"But regardless. You always show up as the man I need, the partner I need." "It's not a surprise, pretty girl. You're mine and I'm yours. You allow me to live out my dreams and I'm here to support you in your dreams. I will do whatever it takes to make you smile and ensure your happiness."

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Selfishly wrote this for myself hahaha I had my mid-year review and let's just say, it was not the best 😅

But it's ok! I quit my job and have a new BETTER job starting this weekend.

Checkmate - Park Seonghwa

Synopsis: Jealously is a dangerous game.

Pairing: Biker Bf!Park Seonghwa x fem reader

Really got inspired by this gif set because when I sent it to a friend, she said that Seonghwa was giving biker bf! vibes and I just have been drooling over that idea ever since.

Genre: Angst, on and off relationship

Contains: mentions of sexual intercourse (use protection babes!), alcohol consumption, vulgar language, attempted spiking of drink (be cautious when you go out, babes - hand your drink to a friend, take it with you. Better to be safe always), description of physical violence

Word Count: 3k

Heartbreak was not in the forecast for this week, but sometimes things changed. Yet, you were familiar with the rollercoaster of emotions so it almost was routine, always expected like those in the Pacific Northwest anticipate rainfall. It was part of your normal.

Deep down, you knew you were in love with your boyfriend, Park Seonghwa. He was someone who added excitement into your life and could be the absolute gentleman. At least when you two weren't arguing.

The arguments between you were not frequent but more explosive. You two often approached situations defensively, almost refusing to see the other's perspective unless the other came in apologizing immediately. You two were stubborn which led to your cycle of being on and off.

Almost everyone in town knew you were Park Seonghwa's girl. Even after the ugliest of arguments, you found your way back to Seonghwa one way or another. Some might say that your souls are carved out of the same material, so you're bound to be together one way or another.

Seonghwa was the type that was fiercely protective of you. To him, you were capable of standing your own ground. He just didn't trust the motives of other people, so he always had a watchful eye over you.

That was ultimately led to the recent argument between the two of you. Seonghwa wasn't suspicious of your best friend's new boyfriend. He was a part of another biker gang in town who didn't quite carry the best reputation. Seonghwa thought he was being reasonable by asking you to limit your interactions with the individual.

However, you took it as Seonghwa didn't want you to see your best friend anymore. You were running on high emotions when you exchanged venomous words you would never use to actually describe your beloved. You called him a monster, self-centered, and insecure.

You were also hurting from the impression it seemed that he couldn't trust you.

Time and time again, you have shown your dedication to Seonghwa. Or at least you thought you had. You were constantly there to take care of any bruised knuckles or black eyes he might obtain from altercations. You poured so much love into him to help him be the confident man he is today.

Hell, you guys have been on and off for three years. Isn't that enough to prove your devotion when you always come back?

Apparently not.

"If you want to be a slut, kitten. I'm not going to stop you," Seonghwa growled at you. "Go on. Go someone else's whore."

His words cut deep. It shattered your heart into a million pieces that no argument had been before. Sure, Seonghwa might call you his slut behind closed doors. The word doesn't bother you as there was often a tone of possession behind it.

Yet, to be called a whore? By the man you love? That just aches.

You had no argument left in you after he said that. Whore. It just repeated in your mind like a broken record.

So you went to the only place you could think of to escape from the ache. Alcohol. You were currently sitting at the bar. You were wearing a black silk skirt that had a slight slit that exposed your knee. It was Seonghwa's favorite on you. He always claimed how angelic yet tempting you looked. You wore a black top that showed off your cleavage nice well.

Might as well fulfill what Seonghwa wants from you, right? He made it clear you were no longer his lover.

"Well isn't it Mrs. Park," a voice called out to you. "We're filing for divorce," you murmured.

While you might not know the particular person speaking to you, you had to make it clear. You were not linked with Seonghwa anymore. He made that very clear, and you were convinced there was no going back this time.

Not when it seemed his view of you was tainted, that he was disgusted by you because you were some common whore to him. You weren't his angel, his lover anymore.

"Can the lady get another drink? Put it on my tab."

Your interest undeniably peaked when the stranger offered to buy you a drink. You found your posture sitting up before turning around to face your suitor.

Your eyes widened. No fucking way. It was your best friend's boyfriend.

"Oh hi! Is y/bff/n here?" For the first time that night, you had a bit of hope in your eyes. Maybe not all is completely lost. You never liked to say you were dependent on Seonghwa, but your whole world was created when you got together with him. Without him, you felt like you had no true direction in life. You could always count on Seonghwa to guide you, to cherish you. But now what? The only remanent from your past life before Seonghwa was your best friend.

Her boyfriend shared an apologetic look before shaking his head. "Oh. I guess she didn't tell you. Um, we broke up last week." "Oh fuck, I'm sorry. She and I were meant to catch up but we both just had let life get in the way. I'm sorry to hear that." "It's okay. Maybe it isn't too bad? I mean, after all, we are people trying to overcome heartache."

As if on cue, the bartender delivered your drink in front of you. You smiled as you exchanged your ice-filled glass for the fresh cocktail. You raised your glass in the air as he followed suit with the beer bottle that accompanied his.

"Cheers to that," you laughed.

Clink!

After taking a proper sip of your drinks, you both set them down on the bar top. You looked out towards the crowd, seeing dancing bodies as the bass from the stereo rattled your bones. It was the perfect opportunity to forget reality.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, what happened? I mean, I don't think Seonghwa is as dumb as I think he is."

In any of your past relationships, you were all on board to bash your exes. Not Seonghwa. He had given you the world, and somehow, you gave him the impression you weren't genuine. Even though you were hurt by his words, you still felt the need to protect him.

"I think I messed things up," you sighed. You tried your best to blink away the tears, taking another sip out of your drink to ease your nerves. "I don't even know at this point. We were just arguing in circles and somehow, I pushed the man I love away and I don't think he's ever going to welcome you back."

Your best friend's ex-boyfriend looked at you sympathetically. You didn't deserve any pity. You were the one that ruined the relationship. There is no way Seonghwa would say such a word if he didn't mean it. You just couldn't calculate how he got that impression you would cheat on you.

"His loss, y/n." His hand rested on your knee comfortingly, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You don't want to get mixed up with the wrong crowd anyways. Seonghwa and his biker gang are all trouble, you know that."

It felt odd to have another man touch you, even if it wasn't particularly intimate. Seonghwa was the only man you trusted within your bubble because he was yours and you were his. At least, that's how it was until tonight.

Seonghwa initially joined the biker gang when he was 18. He felt lost in this world. There was no traditional career path that sparked any interest, so going to college seemed pointless. Especially when there sometimes can be such a hefty price tag.

Hongjoong, one of his classmates, had talked about the gang. It helped Hongjoong feel important, like he had power in a world that often casted any strays to the side. Seonghwa wanted to do something meaningful in his life, and the bikers allowed him to do that. His gang, in particular, viewed themselves like the Robin Hoods of your town - trying to make wrongs into rights. They were the good guys.

"And what? Your gang has a clean record?" You teased.

He chuckled and put his hands up in defense. "You got me there, pretty girl. But I can still see Seonghwa is a complete jackass for letting you roam free. Never know what can happen," he sighed.

"But at least I'm here with good company," you said. "Unless you hurt my best friend? I mean, she didn't call me crying but still." "Yeah, I know, kitten. That's your girl. Don't worry. Things just fizzled out between us. I think we thought we could give each other what we needed, but I realized it wasn't enough." "Ouch. Not sure what type of heartache is worst." "The type where you feel sorry for yourself."

You nodded, even though you didn't completely agree. You didn't feel sorry for yourself. If anything, you felt guilty for pushing away the best man you've ever met. You really thought eventually, the on-and-off carousel would come to a stop but where you two would get off together. Maybe get married. Have a house in the suburbs. A girl can dream.

"Another drink?" Your friend's ex offered.

You smiled and nodded. If he was paying, why not take him up on it. There seemed to be no strings attached, so who knows. Maybe this is the start of a new friendship, a new chapter, a new life for you.

Although, you couldn't quite shake off Seonghwa's warnings about the individual beside you. Maybe Seonghwa's been overreacting this whole time? I mean, the guy seems harmless even for being in a gang.

Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz.

You looked at your phone to see Seonghwa's name pop up. You rolled your eyes and declined it immediately. There were no words to be exchanged between you and Seonghwa. Not when the message was loud and clear from him. He was done with you.

Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz.

Seonghwa. Decline.

Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz.

That's it. You looked at your new friend and muttered a quick apology. "I'll be quick, ok?" He nodded before turning towards the bartender to order another round.

You grabbed your phone, deciding to hop off to take the conversation outside. At least maybe you could hear him clearly and get all the pent-up emotions off your chest. While you were wishfully thinking that Seonghwa would beg for you to come home, you also had to be realistic.

Seonghwa was a well-known guy in town for the wrong reasons. His gang made grown men quiver in fear. Someone probably saw you were out alone, talking to someone from a rival gang. Specifically, a person whom Seonghwa viewed as public enemy number one. It didn't look good, but how bad could things get for you? Seonghwa wasn't your boyfriend anymore. That fact alone kept you at rock bottom.

Finally, when you were at least in a hallway of the bar, your thumb hit the green accept button.

"Hwa-" "Stay where you are."

Your eyebrows furrowed at his command. It wasn't an ask. His tone was fierce, firm. You knew there was no room for arguing, even though you wanted nothing more than to scream at him for what he said.

"How do you even know where I am, huh?" "I always keep track of my belongings, baby girl."

Your heart fluttered at the pet name. What was going on though?

Before you could question, just to get more details, you heard grunting from his side of the call. The fluttering in your heart came to a quick halt, especially when you heard grunting.

Was he okay? Was he hurt?

You noticed that the music at the bar came to a screeching halt. Quickly, you picked up on the sound of fists flying, grunting, and shouting. Even though you knew better than to stay where Seonghwa told you to, you had to investigate. At least to make sure he was okay.

Cautiously, you emerged from the hallway into the main floor of the bar. Some of the members of Seonghwa's gang were beating up the members of a different gang. The one your best friend's ex belonged to. Most of the bar had cleared out the moment fighting broke out it seems. Either out of fear or not wanting to be present when police arrive.

It was then you noticed where Seonghwa was. With the call still on-going, you noticed his cellphone was on the bar top. Yet, Seonghwa stood over your friend's ex as he remained seated. Seonghwa's fists were gripping onto the collar of the poor guy's shirt. Oh no.

You came rushing over, trying to get Seonghwa to ease up. Jealousy never brought out the best in people.

About to speak up, you found everything came to a halt the moment you heard Seonghwa.

"And you dare try to hurt my girl? My world? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

What was he talking about? Your mind was rushing to the numerous scenarios of what could have played out to lead to this moment. Did someone feed Seonghwa the wrong information? Was someone trying to stir drama.

"Listen, man. I was just following orders!" "And you really are that much of a sick fuck to try to spike someone's drink?"

Your eyes darted to the bar top to look at your drink. It seemed to be okay, the usual light yellow color from the pineapple juice mingling with the clear liquor.

But then you noticed the clear baggy. It was small, and easy to be hidden if the man leaned his arm a certain way. Honestly, you probably would have missed it when you returned to your seat.

Seonghwa was seeing red. He was worried you had taken a sip, only arriving right after you slipped away to accept his call. He was fearing the worst case scenario, and he had asked you to stay back so he could come help you once he handled the creep.

"Hwa? I'm okay, baby."

The harsh breathing from Seonghwa slowed down at the sound of your angelic voice. His grip didn't loosen, but his demeanor softened slightly. Yet, he still remained vigilant in case the punks tried pulling a fast one.

"Kitten, I asked you to stay where you were. I didn't want you to get hurt." "I didn't take a sip, I promise. He ordered a new one for me when I slipped away to take your call," you confessed.

You didn't speak in your normal tone. Seonghwa always admired how confident you are. Even during the worst of fights, he was enamored by how you always stood your ground.

Now, though, your voice was soft. Almost timid. You weren't afraid to speak to him, but clearly overwhelmed by the situation. To go from breaking up with your boyfriend, again, to nearly falling for a trap. All you wanted was to be in his arms, your safe haven.

"Hwa, we can take care of him," Hongjoong announced from behind. His hand was on Hwa's shoulders, to show he was fully capable of taking over dealing with the low life. It helped knowing that San was also there to be a the guy to a pulp after retrieving information, of course.

Revenge would be sought after. But not until he comforted you and made sure you were okay.

Seonghwa nodded, taking a small step away from the guy. However, before he could even think of running off, Seonghwa's knuckles met his face. The guy's head went flying back, so he slumped in the stool. Hongjoong and San took Seonghwa's position, leading the guy out back to handle business.

You didn't even notice the fighting in the bar had come to a halt. The bar was nearly empty besides the few members of Seonghwa's biker gang who checked the perimeter, to ensure that it was safe.

Immediately, Seonghwa rushed over to you. Both of his moved to cup your cheeks, his thumbs caressing over your cheeks. He had a hard exterior, but he was undoubtedly soft for you. It was a privilege of getting to experience this side of him. Your eyes fluttered shut in the comfort of his warm touch but also at your settling heart.

"Are you positive you're okay? He didn't touch you?" "No," you whispered. "He bought me a drink and touched my knee, but that's it, I promise."

Seonghwa's blood boiled slightly, but not enough that made him want to jump and join his two friends outside. What was important to him was taking care of you.

His heart shattered as he noticed the tears slipping from your eyes. He pulled back which caused your eyes to widen, fearing he was about to walk away. All he did was coo in your direction as you watched him shrug off his leather jacket, draping it around your shoulders.

Once he noticed your arms had slipped in through the sleeves, he wrapped his arm around you. He never wanted to admit it, but he loved being physically close to you. He just loved how soft and warm you were. His free hand moved up to tuck strands of your hair behind your ear.

"I never should have said such hateful words. God, I am a fucking idiot, sweet girl," he whispered. His lips moved to plant a lingering kiss on your forehead. "I don't view you like that. Like what I called you. I don't even know why I said it, but it's not a fucking excuse."

This happened every time Seonghwa felt guilty after an argument. When he was consumed by the guilt, he couldn't quite put the words together so they came out at once. He never wanted to let something be unsaid, especially when he was trying to make amends.

And all he wanted was to make things right with you.

"I'm done with the arguing, sweetheart. The way we argue isn't productive because I mean it when I say I'm putting a ring on your finger."

He pulled back, so you two could look at each other. Your eyes slightly widened but a smile was on your face. The tears of anxiety and sadness were replaced with tears of joy. "Really?" You whispered. "That is, if you accept my dumbass back as your boyfriend? And that you allow me to work hard to be the man you deserve, not just who you need."

Y’all spoke and I listened….first person to guess which Ateez member is coming up next gets a kiss 😘

I have a couple WIPs (like…14 at the latest count) and idk what to dooooo so pls help me

rare child | yeosang

this was a fun one to write! genre: fantasy warnings: def some spookiness and some local folklore inspiration, reader is mentioned to have the form of a woman and gendered terms are used, reader is said to have grayish brown eyes, also reader is some kind of forest spirit/deity so keep that in mind as you read

He was a rare child, that Yeosang. 

Not just because he was uncommonly beautiful (which he was) or unusually thoughtful and kind (which was also true). But also because he could see what the normal children could not.

His mother was the first to know his gift, as mothers often are. Her boy was quiet, withdrawn, and rather shy, and she knew the other children in the village could be unkind to those who didn’t want to join in their loud games where they pretended at war or pirate mutinies or crusades. So she, despite the pestering of her husband, did not bar Yeosang from sitting with her on the flat black stone as she tended to the water lilies in their pond.

It was on one of these quiet summer mornings that Yeosang suddenly sat up straight, his eyes wide and frenzied. “What is it, lad?” she whispered to him. And wordlessly, Yeosang had pointed at a lily pad.

“There’s a little person on that flower,” he stated. Not a hint of a joke could be seen written across his delicate features, which were serious and concerned, a little furrow between his brows.

“Which one?” his mother asked, squinting. 

“That one, the smallest in the group of three,” he replied, pointing with greater urgency.

“Does it have wings?” his mother asked calmly.

He cranes his neck. “Yes,” Yeosang confirmed. “She’s pretty.”

“She is,” murmured the mother, fighting tears. Her husband had only given her one child, this son, and the family gift was only said to be passed on to daughters. But it seemed Yeosang could see like her. She didn’t understand why — perhaps it was his still, gentle nature that allowed the fair-folk to bestow their favor upon him. But she knew that the gift must be nurtured and protected.

And so, all through his childhood and into adulthood, the boy and his mother spent hours and hours exploring the little world within their village, seeking out the creatures no one else could see. As he grew, the boy became more beautiful and more strange and quieter still, until as an adult whispers went around the village about the son of the healer. Rumor spread that he was cursed, or a changeling, or that he wasn’t a human after all, but rather some creature from the otherworld that had infiltrated the carefully guarded borders of the mortal world. As the rumors grew, the people became more and more unkind, and Yeosang retreated into the forest, building himself a cabin and only venturing down into town for the essentials.

It wasn’t long after the move that Yeosang started seeing the things in the woods. Most were neutral - neither friendly or unfriendly, and not keen to interact with humans. But every once in awhile there was something else — one time, he’d seen a pair of reflective eyes, higher than his own eye level, staring at him from the foreboding treeline. The violently murderous energy radiating from the creature had turned Yeonsang’s blood cold. When he’d done a double-take, whatever it was had vanished…or moved. He’d gone home immediately and locked the door after that. The worst was when he would hear a cheery whistle from the trees that Yeosang could only describe as beckoning. He always ignored it, but it sent full-body chills down his spine every time. Because who — or what — would be so keen to lure him further into the woods?

Yeosang had long learned that if he ignored the more unsavory creatures, they’d leave him alone. So that’s what he did. But that was all about to change. 

He’d heard screams in the woods before, and most of the time he’d known it was just one of the things that wanted him to come sprinting into the woods in the dark. But this time it was different. Yeosang was already in the woods, searching by his own torchlight for a particular kind of winter flower for his mother, when the short scream burst through the silence and was immediately cut off, a strange choked yelp in its place. As good as the things were at imitating human noises, that was one he’d never heard before. It struck that particular chord in his body that crystallized into one single, urgent thought in his mind. Real. 

So he took off running. This was difficult through the brush and the two feet of powdery snow, but he managed, bounding into a clearing and stopping in his tracks at what he saw. 

A woman — from the looks of it — was tied by the wrists and waist to a tree, shrouded by fifteen or so humanoid figures in long black cloaks. A knife protruded from a wound in her chest. 

A wound that leaked silver blood.

Without really knowing why, Yeosang shouted, “let her go!” And then watched with distrust as the figures dissipated like smoke into the surrounding line of firs. 

—-

You were fading. You could feel it.

In a fever dream, you felt your soul straining against the tether binding it to the broken wreck that had been the body it had inhabited for the whole of your immortal existence. Death was not something common to your kind, but as you hovered between it and the pain of staying alive, you once again felt a moment of kinship with the humans. No wonder so many saw death as mercy, if living felt like this.

It was odd being in this position. You weren’t able to move your limbs in your disconnected state, and yet, your heightened senses allowed you to feel and nearly see the warm hands that tended to the wound in your chest. All you knew was that someone was taking care of you. After all the torture you’ve been through, the feeling of hands on you is frightening, but these hands are gentle and skilled in healing. As time passes, you start to become aware of voices. 

“Why do you think they did this to her?” asks a soft deep voice.

“Religious turf war, I’ll bet. She governs the forest, and another deity wanted it,” a higher voice, probably feminine replies.

“I didn’t think goddesses could die.” This was a whisper. Barely distinguishable.

“They can’t,” the feminine voice assures. “Unless you exert inhuman effort. The only way to kill a goddess is to call a demon.”

A sharp gasp came from the deeper voice — and then you felt a hand on your face. 

“She’s beautiful.”

“Even now,” the deep voice agrees.

“And she hasn’t died yet. I think she’s still deciding.”

There is a pause. You are starting to drift out of awareness again, but just before you sink into the warm nothingness, you hear the deep voice whisper, “you should stay. I’d like to know you.”

—-

It takes another two weeks for you to open your eyes.

Every day when Yeosang would check on you, there would be a new improvement, which he would write in a little notebook he kept by his bed — a bed which you now occupy. On Tuesday: a new flush in the cheeks. On Wednesday: deeper, more filling breaths. On Thursday: slight movement in the fingers. And so on. Your eyelids flutter for an hour before you blink them all the way open, peering around the cottage with a wide grayish-brown gaze. The first thing they really land on is the pretty boy in a chair at your bedside, sitting with rapt attention, enthralled by every one of your movements. 

“Oh,” you say, your softly musical voice laced with recognition. 

Because of course you know this boy — the one who sang mournful songs at the base of the trees he felled to build his cabin, who left warm honey in little jars through the forest for the fairies who dwelt there in your care, whom you had paid a visit to months before. You hadn’t gone in your true form, instead choosing to follow him as a fawn, curious as to how he could see your subjects so clearly and even more puzzled at how kind he was to them. You had watched him from a distance, trying not to alert him to your presence, and had been shocked when he had laid a loaf of freshly baked bread at the mouth of a brownie’s lair. Where most humans were frightened by you and your kind, this odd human seemed to care for them.

Yeosang reaches a hand out toward you before thinking better of it and withdrawing it. “My lady,” he says with a small nod. “How do you feel?”

Angry. Overwhelmed. Crushed. “Who are you?” you say, and you can hear how frightened your voice is — it shakes around the corners of your words.

Yeosang moves his chair forward quietly. “It’s alright,” he whispers. “You’re safe.”

When your eyes narrow in suspicion, he sighs. “My name is Yeosang.”

“You’re the boy with the honey,” you venture, and though your eyes are still hesitant, they seem to warm just slightly.

“Yes,” he agrees. “I am.” He looks at you — really looks at you, like no human had ever looked at you before as the keeper of the forest, with a mixture of wonder and curiosity and trepidation. Your heart speeds up, beating painfully, reminding you of the wound you’d sustained. Your hands fly up to your chest, where a neat row of stitches hold what was probably a gaping hole closed. 

You take a deep breath, but despite your efforts to remain calm, a wild breeze blows through the cabin, buffeting Yeosang back from your side. He has to hold onto the doorframe to keep from being blown right off his feet, and stares at you almost reproachfully after the gust dies down -- which almost makes you laugh. 

But then Yeosang approaches you again, and his fingers wrap around your nearest hand, which is ice cold. He rubs warmth into it, a familiar action it seems he has practiced many times before. “Do you know why you were in that clearing?”

You clench your jaw to avoid releasing another flurry of wind. “Yes,” you say grimly. “Because of a demon who wants this forest for his own. If I hadn’t recovered, you and your village would be decimated by him. As it is, he is probably thinking of ways to come for me again.”

“How did he capture you?” Yeosang asks curiously. 

“Like a coward,” you spit. “He snuck up on me. If he had tried to take me head-on, I could’ve fought him off.” 

“I believe you,” Yeosang breathes, still massaging your cold fingertips with his warm ones. You fixate on this for a moment -- it has been eons since you felt a human’s touch. 

“Most mortals can’t see me,” you finally say, looking up into his dark eyes. “And around here, the only ones who could see me were --”

“Women,” Yeosang finishes. “Yes, my mother told me.” 

“Who is your mother, then?” you asked him. 

“She is the healer in the village. Her family has the favor of the fair-folk.” He clears his throat and avoids your gaze. “Somehow, I inherited it, although it’s only supposed to pass to the daughters. Perhaps it’s because I am my mother’s only child.”

You watch as he tangles his fingers with yours absently -- another familiar gesture, and yet it makes your stomach flip over. “How long have I been --”

“It’s been a month,” Yeosang says. “The forest is unusually dark these days.”

“It’s because of me,” you whisper. Slowly, you move to sit up, and Yeosang springs into action, reaching around to support you as you inch into a seated position. 

You can’t help but stare at him, his soft dark hair falling in front of his eyes, his uncommonly beautiful face inches from your own. He is not paying attention in the slightest, using all of his focus to help you, stepping back once you are sitting up with your back against the headboard. “Is this alright?” he asks you, watching you carefully as he steps back a single pace.

“Yes,” you reassure him. And truly, you feel galvanized now that you aren’t flat on your back. “Are you not afraid of me?” you ask suddenly, surprised by his closeness. 

“Do I need to be afraid of you?” he counters, a bit amused.

“Right now, maybe not,” you allow. “But when I haven’t just been pulled back from the brink of death, I am normally one of the more powerful forest guardians that exist in this world. Most humans feel...unsettled in my presence.”

Yeosang blushes. “I never said I don’t feel unsettled.”

“So you are afraid, then?” you ask him with a raised eyebrow. 

Slowly, he shakes his head. “More...nervous,” he admits, avoiding eye contact.

The room feels suddenly hot, and his hand in yours becomes somehow heavier. As you try to determine the reason for this sudden shift in your mood, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

Something is watching you from the trees.

You can almost see them through the brush visible through Yeosang’s small bedroom window -- you probably would be able to see them if it weren’t for your current state of weakness. As it is, the only thing you can pick out is a sound: the slow, careful shifting of weight of something trying not to be seen. This was a common enough sound. Animals do it all the time. But this is different. Every other noise from the forest falls silent to listen to it.

Yeosang watched you carefully as your spine stiffens, your stormy grayish-brown eyes narrowing as you strain to pick out what you’re hearing. And then, through the eerie silence — that whistle. The same beckoning call Yeosang had been hearing since he moved to his cottage on the darkest forest’s edge. Carefully extracting his hand from yours, he steps in front of the window and locks it. After pulling the curtains closed, he looks around at you with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. “Get some rest. I will come for you in the morning.”

“You knew what that was?” you ask him. It was just a guess, but he’s grown pale, and his dark eyes are wide.

He doesn’t reply, just unconsciously places a comforting hand at your shoulder. Then finally he speaks. “I don’t know what it is. I just know that it scares me.”

******

It takes you another week to feel like yourself again. Yeosang bullies you into walking through the closest trees with him, but respects your wishes not to travel back into the deep woods. Instead, the two of you walk side-by-side, usually hand-in-hand, the human and the guardian of the wood, and talk -- about everything from Yeosang’s childhood memories to your favorite creatures from the forest. You are fascinated by the beauty and strangeness of him, and the more he speaks, the more you find yourself wishing to know about him. 

On the sixth day since you awakened, it snows. You step outside to watch the white flakes dance down from the clouds, finally able to see the patterns in each one. Yeosang is quiet for a human, but the sound of the powder beneath his feet alerts you to his presence behind you. A part of you wants to turn toward his warmth, toward that funny little smile that he always seems to wear when he speaks to you, but you’re too occupied by the falling snow. “Hello,” you call.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he replies fondly.

“I love the snowflakes,” you tell him.

“I can see that.” You hear him take a step closer, and jump a little when you feel a hand at your waist, but relax into his touch easily. “It’s just me,” he reminds you in a soothing voice as his arms wrap around you, his chin finding a resting place in the crook of your shoulder.

“I know,” you say softly as you almost automatically entwine your arms with his. He’s never held you like this before, but the warmth is welcome.

“Is this alright?” he murmurs in your ear.

You lean into him further. “You’re warm,” you reply, and Yeosang chuckles, pressing his lips to the side of your head. 

“So are you.”

There is something ancient about the way it feels to be so close to him — something that, for all your time watching over the trees, you can’t remember experiencing as an immortal being. And yet, it’s as familiar as breathing. It reminds you of when you were human.

That afternoon, on your walk, it is Yeosang who asks the question. “Were you always...the way you are now?” he asks, squeezing your hand as it swings back and forth in his own.

The corners of your lips raise. “Why do you ask?”

He blushes a little. “Well, for a deity, you seem so...” He trails off. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend you.”

“You haven’t offended me,” you say, amused. He hadn’t even finished his sentence. “I was human, once.”

“You were?” he says, nodding for you to continue.

You sigh. “It was...an age ago, it seems. Hundreds of years. Maybe thousands.” The memories are fuzzy, but after all this time, you still ache. “You want to hear the story?”

“Please,” Yeosang implores.

You take a deep breath and fixate on the bare branches of the trees overhead. “The forest was new then. I was young. And in love. It is hard to remember exactly what happened...someone from my family didn’t approve. I was...nobility, I suppose you might call it. And he was a farmer who lived on our land.”

“Do you remember his name?” Yeosang asks.

You shake your head. “Only that it sounded like music to me.” The ache in your chest is growing sharper now, more pronounced, as though the wound Yeosang removed the stitches from only days ago has split wide open again. “We ran from our village into these trees. Deep within them. And we got lost. The woods were empty then — it was a bitter winter, and we didn’t have any food or any way to get it. I had been well-fed, but he…” 

You are surprised at how easily the tears spring to your eyes as you struggle to recall what happened. Drawing in a great shuddering breath, you continue. “In the end, it wasn’t even the starvation that took him from me. It was love. He gave me his cloak to wear as a blanket every night when we slept, and one morning I woke to him sitting cold and unmoving beside me.”

Yeosang is still watching you with gentle eyes, offering an arm around your shoulders to comfort against the cold and the rising emotion. “My kind are made immortal by some unknown power that attaches to us, at the right place, in the right time, and only when we are at our most vulnerable. At this very moment, when I lost a love meant to last eons, the transformation took place. With every cry of all-consuming anguish, I found myself slipping further into madness, until I was as wild and undying as the woods themselves.”

“Have you loved since then?” Yeosang quietly questions. His arm around your shoulders, the shawl he wraps around you every time you’re about to leave the warmth of the hearth, the days he spent at your side as you decided whether to succumb to death or not, all swirl around like a breeze in your mind. 

You give a soft laugh. “I am made of love. It is the reason I persist. I can do nothing without it. I love the trees as my own home. I love the creatures who dwell in my home like my own children. I even love the human lovers who have wandered into my arms.”

“Do I have a place in your heart?” Yeosang asks. “Am I one of your children, then? Or one of your trusts?”

The moment you look into his eyes, you have your answer. “You are not like a child or a lover to me, no.”

“Then what am I?” he challenges. And his voice is still quiet, but his eyes flash. 

“I see in you the echo of the love that changed me,” you whisper, pausing in your walk to bring a chilled finger up to Yeosang’s pink cheek. “You have the same essence.” You hesitate before you make your tearful admission. “A part of me fears that you’ll meet the same fate he did.”

Your murmur sends a shiver down Yeosang’s spine — or perhaps it’s the contrast of your cold hand against his face — but he takes a step closer, so close you can feel the warmth coming from him. 

“Let me be clear, then. I may not be the only one you love, nor can I be the first, but I want to be the name that even thousands of years cannot erase from your memory.”

And then he presses his lips to yours. 

You are only able to register the sensation -- the soft brush of sensitive skin, and his large, calloused hands cradling your face -- before the wind starts, buffeting the two of you as you stand in each other’s embrace. You feel it snake up your body, stealing the warmth from your limbs as you cling to Yeosang.

It is odd, though. Even as the wind picks up speed, flinging your skirts and your hair and the snow all around you, you feel as though nothing exists but the feel of Yeosang’s kiss, as though time has stopped for just this moment and you and he are the only real things in the world. His hands slide back to knot in your hair as he deepens the kiss, seemingly unperturbed by the raging gale around him, as content to do it amid the frigid gusts of air as he would by a warm fire.

In the evening, when it is time for sleep, you wordlessly pull Yeosang into his own bed again to sleep beside you, knowing he will understand the invitation for what it is. You spend the cold night curved around each other, his muscular arms wrapped snugly around your waist, keeping each other warm. In your immortality, you had shared a bed with many humans, and you always knew it would be temporary. With Yeosang, it almost convinces you that you are human again.

***

One night, not long later, your sleep is unsettled. You hover between waking and uneasy dreams full of shadows and teeth, your eyes flying open as you realize the space in the bed that Yeosang usually occupies is empty. The panic grows worse when you realize that there is a cold draft in the cabin from the door that’s propped open, swinging gently in the freezing wind.

Petrified, you jolt out of bed and run to the doorway, the sight that greets you only confirming your fears. There are no footsteps in the newly fallen snow leading down from the cabin’s steps. Yeosang has been taken.

Just as you come to this realization, the wind suddenly falls silent, and you hear it.

The whistle. The cheery, beckoning sound -- the invitation to travel deeper into the woods. 

You pull the blanket around your shoulders, tug on your boots, and run into the snow, heading right into the trees. 

The whistle guides you, occasionally sounding from your right or left as an indication to turn. As you run, you feel a friendly breeze picking up speed beside you, blowing you quicker toward your destination. Thanks to your forest, and the life that inhabits it, you are able to cut an inhumanly quick path through the growth, even allowing the wind to fully carry you down the steeper hills and around particularly sharp turns, until you come upon a wide clearing and stop in your tracks.

Because there is Yeosang, crumpled at the feet of something that is nearly impossible to make out in the darkness. Once you can tell what it is, it is only your immortal side that keeps your human side from bolting like a deer at the sound of a branch cracking. 

It is about the height of a man, with what looks like the face of a man -- but it’s too long, slightly too smooth and hairless, and the eyes are unnaturally glassy, like a doll’s. It turns its head as you burst into the clearing, its movements jerky and awkward, as though imitating a human rather than really being one. The arms are too long as well, as are the fingers, and as the mouth splits open in a grotesque attempt at a smile, the teeth glint unnaturally, almost like animal eyes do at night. 

The voice that echoes across the clearing doesn’t seem to be coming from the creature’s mouth. Rather, it seems to materialize from the darkness, as sudden and harsh as a slap to the face. “The lady of the forest has returned.”

You give the creature your coldest stare. “So it seems,” you call back. “What have you done to the human?”

You can hear the anger in your voice, hot and dark as the moonless night. It would make other creatures cringe and cower, but this foul beast only laughs, a clicking, disharmonious sound that scrapes at the bones. “He offered me his life for yours when I came to end your life tonight,” the creature tells you. “Poor thing. I think he thinks he’s in love with you.”

“This war is between us,” you say. “Release him, and let us finish this.”  

Another sickening laugh sounds across the clearing before the creature begins to limp toward you at a jarring speed, contorting hideously onto all fours as it gets closer. You breathe in the frigid night air and feel the heat rising in your chest as your whole body lifts off the forest floor into the air. The wind starts to whip around furiously, coming to your aid, as usual. You hover two feet above ground and look upward as light begins to erupt from your fingertips, the crown of your head, even your chin and your cheekbones. The clearing is suddenly illuminated, and the creature shrieks as beams of hot light zap into its skin, creating disc-sized burn marks all over its body.. 

But then yet another shout echoes across the clearing. You look toward the sound to see Yeosang, his brow furrowed in that same way it had been the first day you’d woken up, when you’d nearly blown him out of the room. Almost amused, almost reproachful. He’s alive, you think, and the wind slows down enough for you to drop to the ground and bolt towards Yeosang through the piles of untouched snow as the creature writhes in pain behind you.

You notice he’s kneeling as you approach, and you slide to your knees as well when you reach him, flinging your arms around Yeosang’s neck. “What did he do to you? Where are you hurt?” you ask him frantically

He gently pulls away. “I am not hurt,” he insists, pushing your hair out of your face so he can better cradle it. “I came freely.”

“Why were you unconscious?” you ask. “And why did you go with him?”

He sighs. “His power was growing every day. I knew he would come for you soon. It was the only way I could think to keep him from doing anything to you.”

The creature behind you has now recovered, and is scuttling toward you once again. “Get behind me!” you scream at Yeosang, flinging your arms out and letting a jet of light shoot from your eyes. It sears a small burn into the creature’s hand, and it screeches, but there’s another yell -- this time from Yeosang. When you whirl around, he’s nursing a burnt hand, too. 

“What --” you begin, but Yeosang interrupts by placing both hands on your shoulders.

“Listen carefully, my darling,” he says urgently. “I made a deal with him.”

“No,” you say, rejecting this news immediately. Because to make a deal with something like that monster meant certain death for a human. Their deals are unbreakable, inescapable, binding. If Yeosang really did this, he’s lost to you forever.

“He promised to leave the village and your forest alone,” Yeosang continues, ignoring your protest.

“And what must you give him?” you demand, terrified of his answer.

He gives a weak smile. “Everything.”

“What does that mean?” you ask in a broken whisper.

“The way he tells it, he will absorb me into himself. I will...become something different. Perhaps something like he is.”

You cannot speak. You simply stare at Yeosang, who is eyeing the creature over your shoulder, still staggering in pain. “Please, my love. Please get yourself somewhere safe. You cannot hurt him without hurting me, so there’s nothing more you can do here.”

Your thoughts are racing. “Not again,” you say quietly. “Not this again. No.”

When you were human you might have had words for the grief you feel, because as a human your capacity for it was so much smaller. Many times you’ve wondered if that’s not why you were changed -- because your pain was so overwhelmingly large that you couldn’t manage it unless you became impenetrable. But it is the first time since the change that you’ve felt this way: the ground beneath you seems to crumble to dust, the world fading to a helpless gray devoid of all the colors of hope and joy and lust and love and passion and mercy and goodness. “You cannot leave me here without you,” you say in a flat voice that can barely contain the burgeoning storm inside you, which threatens to burst from you at any moment. This is the first time you’ve said out loud what has been screaming in your brain for as long as you have been immortal.

His smile is sad. “I don’t know if we have much choice, love,” he admits. “Can you make me a promise?” When you don’t answer, he quickly continues, “Will you say my name every day, for the rest of eternity? So that you never forget about me, or how much I loved you?”

“Yeosang,” you whisper, and he nods in gratitude. But he doesn’t realize -- the emotions are bubbling up, dangerously close to the surface, and as the creature your love is chained to begins gearing up for another attack, a bright light bursts from you, from every part of your body. This is not the searing light of destruction: this is pure power, and it envelopes both he and the creature. 

At the same time, you let out a primal shriek that echoes through the forest, raising a sea of bats into the night in fright and causing owls and mice and other nocturnal creatures miles away to become disoriented and confused. Even the tenants of the village hear the scream of a goddess, noting how it shakes the earth and brings piles of snow and ice hurtling down from the trees.

As the light surrounds Yeosang and the creature, the beast begins to dissolve. Bit-by-bit, the creature’s essence is absorbed into Yeosang’s body -- preserving the sanctity of the deal, but preserving the one person you refuse to lose. It happens quickly, the light fading with your scream, and by the time all traces of it have evaporated into the air, Yeosang collapses to the ground. You fall to your knees, exhausted, but can’t help but crawl through the snow toward his fallen figure. As you gently roll him over, he opens his eyes, and they glow red in the darkness. 

You blink once, before the searing pain behind your eyes overtakes you and you faint.

*** Immortality is an intoxicating and dizzying mass of colors and lights, where the sequencing of time becomes distorted and waxy. Life among the trees gives your immortality structure, the changing of the seasons making obvious the passage of years, into decades, into centuries.

And every autumn, your heart returns to you.

He had survived the contract -- not just his body, but his soul. In the many conversations the two of you had had, in the dead of the forest, in the heart of the winter, he’d told you that he secretly believed this had been the reason for his strange gift. In an odd way, he’d been destined to save you. 

There was something inside of him that kept the darkness in him at bay -- he swore that it was his love for you, but as sweet as that was, you felt that it was simply his goodness, his purity, that kept him from acting on the rabid hunger that possessed him. Because it was him -- he couldn’t, he wouldn’t.

There was a sadness to everything, though. As the world became warmer, the anger he held inside of him became restless, and he would need to leave. You didn’t quite understand, but you knew how tenuous his hold on himself could be if he tried to stay with you, so at the opening of spring, he would depart, leaving you to rule the forest on your own for half of the year. But he always returns to bring the autumn.

Even now, you wait in the customary clearing, unable to keep a smile from your face as a chill steals over the earth. You watch as the grass frosts beneath your very feet, and the whistle sounds from the treeline. The whole world seems to hold its breath for a moment, and then --

He emerges from the trees, as beautiful as ever, shrouded in shadows and with his piercing red-tinged eyes fixed unfailingly on you.

And your whisper seeps through the whole clearing as the frost does.

“Yeosang.”

It's 10 a.m and I'm crying 🥲

hi i hope your requests are open 😓😓😓 i was wondering if you could do an ot8 comfort fic thing for when the ateez members find out that reader used to selfharm because of the scars left behind. if you dw to do ot8 then just mingi is fine.

thank you sm!

I’m so sorry it took this long i got sidetracked 😭😭 but i hope you like it

Ateez reacting to their SO’s self harm scars

Synopsis: ateez comforts the reader after finding out about their self harm scars

Pairing: ateez x gn!reader, domestic au

Genre: fluff, comfort

Word count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of past struggles with self harm

masterlist

• Hongjoong

The soft hum of music filled the cozy studio as Hongjoong focused on the delicate dance of his fingers on the MIDI keyboard, his laptop screen glowing with various tracks and effects. Beside him, you were nestled in a comfortable chair, engrossed in a book, occasionally shifting to find a more comfortable position.

As you moved, your shorts rode up slightly, revealing faint scars on your thighs. Hongjoong's eyes flickered with concern as he noticed, surprised to have not seen them before. He paused his work, turning to you with a gentle furrow in his brow.

"Jagi, what happened to your thighs?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for answers.

You looked down at your scars, a small sigh escaping your lips. "Oh, those? Just old battle wounds," you replied casually, trying to not fall back into painful memories.

Hongjoong's heart sank at your casual response. "But... how did you get them?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice.

You inhaled sharply, setting your book aside. "It's... a long story. But really, it's all in the past. They don't bother me anymore."

Hongjoong's heart clenched at your stiff tone, but he chose not to pry further. He reached out to gently trace the scars with his fingertips, his touch hesitant, as if it might hurt you, but you found it comforting. "I wish I had noticed sooner," he murmured, his voice laced with regret.

You met his gaze, offering him a small smile. "It's okay, love. I got out of it. It not exactly pleasant to remember but I’ll be fine," you reassured him, squeezing his hand affectionately. "Besides, consider it character development."

Hongjoong pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he could shield you from any pain. "Don’t make jokes now," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "But remember, you don't have to bear it alone. I'm here for you, always."

"Thank you," you whispered, feeling With warmth spreading through your body, grateful for his presence and understanding.

• Seonghwa

Seonghwa sat comfortably on his bed, his back resting against the pillows as he played Animal Crossing on his Switch. You snuggled close beside him, the warmth of his body against yours, as you watched the screen together.

You continued watching with fascination, occasionally pointing out cute details or offering suggestions for his virtual paradise.

"Hwa, look! You should put a little picnic area by the beach," you suggested, your voice filled with excitement.

He glanced at you, a warm smile gracing his lips as he listened to your ideas. But then, as the light from the screen shifted, he noticed something on your forearm. Faint scars, barely visible except for when the light from the screen illuminated them but it was enough to catch his attention. He paused the game, concern flickering in his eyes as he gently traced his fingers over them.

"What are these?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with worry.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over you. But then, meeting his gaze, you offered a reassuring smile. "They're old scars," you explained gently. "I'm better now, Seonghwa. You don't need to worry."

He furrowed his brows, his concern evident. "But... how did I never notice them before?"

You shrugged lightly. "They're not something I like to talk about, anyways being with you makes me feel confident and content with myself and I don't dwell on the past when I'm with you."

Seonghwa's heart swelled with love and admiration for you. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're so strong, Y/N," he murmured, his arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace. "And you're not alone. I'm here for you, always."

You smiled at him, feeling absolutely content as you relaxed further into his arms.

• Yunho

Yunho had always been passionate about his work, especially dancing. So when he dragged you along to the KQ dance studio one evening, you couldn't say no to his big puppy eyes, even if it meant sitting on the sidelines and watching him move with such grace that not even the best could replicate.

As he swayed and spun across the polished floor, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him. His dedication and talent were mesmerizing, filling the room with an energy that was infectious.

"That was amazing," you whispered as he finished a particularly intricate sequence.

He grinned, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Thanks, love. But you know what would make it even better?"

You raised an eyebrow, already anticipating his answer.

"If you joined me," he said, extending a hand towards you.

You shook your head, chuckling softly. "No way, Yunho. I'm not half as talented as you are."

But Yunho was persistent, and before you knew it, he had pulled you up from your seat and into the centre of the studio. You stumbled a bit, feeling a little self-conscious as you stood next to him.

"Don't worry," he reassured you, placing his hands on your waist. "Just follow my lead."

You moved together, following his lead as best you could. It wasn't long before you found yourself lost in the music, the worries of the day melting away with each step.

But then, as you spun around, your shirt shifted, revealing the faint marks on your shoulder. Yunho noticed immediately, his expression shifting from playful to concerned. He stopped dancing, his hands dropping to his sides. You froze at his sudden shift in demeanour and looked at him in confusion waiting for him to say something.

"What's this?" he asked, gently tracing the marks with his fingertips.

You bit your lip, feeling exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. "Oh, um, it's nothing. Probably just from a cat or something."

Yunho raised an eyebrow at your answer, he wasn't convinced. "You sure about that?"

You sighed, knowing you couldn't keep it from him any longer. "Fine, I used do it when I got frustrated or angry with myself. It's stupid, I know."

Yunho's eyes widened in horror, his fingers still lingering on your skin. "Why would you do that?"

You shrugged, feeling embarrassed. "I don't know. It's like a subconscious thing, I guess."

"You don't have to do that anymore," he murmured against your skin, kissing the scars lightly. "You have me now. Whenever you feel like that, come to me. Lean on me, use me however you like. I'll be here for you."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you buried your face in his chest, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

• Yeosang

Yeosang had gone out for a while to run some errands, leaving you to enjoy a peaceful nap on his large bed. You decided to steal one of his shirts, the comfort of which immediately sent you to sleep. Unbeknownst to you,in your deep slumber as you shifted around, the shirt had slipped off your shoulder, exposing the healed scars that adorned your skin.

As Yeosang returned home, his heart swelled at the sight of you, peacefully sleeping. He couldn't help but smile fondly, thinking of how cute and tiny you looked in his clothes, quietly he approached to admire your peaceful face. Gently, he reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, as he did his gaze shifted to the scars that marred your skin. Concern flooded his features as he leaned in closer, his fingertips hovering over the healed marks.

You stirred at his touch, blinking awake with a soft smile as you recognized him. "Hey, Yeosang, you’re back, " you greeted smiling at him, your voice still laced with sleep.

But as your eyes met his, you noticed the concern etched in his expression, his eyes fixed on the scars. "Is everything alright?" you asked, furrowing your brows in confusion.

Yeosang's worry spilled out in a rush of questions. "What happened? Are you okay? Why didn't you tell me?"

Confusion flashed across your face before you realised what he was looking at, and you gently reached out to cup his cheek, soothing the furrow in his brow. "Yeosang, it's okay," you reassured him, your voice gentle yet firm. "Those scars are old. It's been nearly a decade since then."

You could see the relief wash over him, but he still looked troubled. "But... why? Why did you...?"

You placed a finger over his lips, silencing his questions. "I was going through a tough time back then," you explained softly. "But being with you... you make me so happy, Yeosang. I haven't had any bad thoughts since."

His eyes softened, and he pulled you into a comforting embrace, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "I'm just glad you're okay," he murmured against your skin.

You smiled up at him, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. "I'm more than okay," you whispered, leaning in to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. "I'm better than I've ever been, all because of you."

• San

After a warm evening shower you wanted nothing more but to get into your fluffy pyjamas and go to sleep. You stood in front of your mirror, carefully putting on your clothes, when the door unexpectedly swung open, revealing San on the other side. Startled, you instinctively grabbed a towel to cover yourself.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't realize you were in here," San stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"It's okay, San. Just give me a moment," you said, adjusting your shirt as you continued dressing. You had been with him long enough not to feel entirely uncomfortable with him seeing you like this.

As you finished, you noticed San's gaze lingering on a particular spot near your hips. Sensing his stare, you furrowed your brows and glanced down, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Is something wrong?" you asked, your voice laced with concern.

San blinked, seemingly snapping out of his trance. "Oh, no, it's nothing," he quickly replied, though his expression betrayed his curiosity.

You sighed softly, knowing he wouldn't let it go that easily. "They're just scars from my past," you explained, gesturing towards the faded marks on your upper thigh and hips. "Back then I struggled a lot with my confidence," you winced slightly at the painful memory.

San's eyes widened in realisation, and his features softened with empathy. "I had no idea," he murmured, stepping closer to you. "You're perfect, you know? I can't believe you would ever think otherwise."

A small, appreciative smile tugged at your lips, touched by his sincerity. "Thank you, San," you replied softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I'm in a much better place now."

Without hesitation, San reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. "I'm glad to hear that," he whispered, his gaze filled with adoration. "But just know, I'll always be here to remind you of how incredible you are."

His words melted away any lingering insecurities, and you couldn't help but lean in to press a tender kiss against his lips. "Thank you for always being so understanding," you murmured against his mouth.

"Of course," San replied, returning the kiss with equal fervor. "You don't ever have to worry about anything when you're with me.

• Mingi

After ages of going to the gym, lifting weights and what not, you had finally convinced Mingi to join you for a workout session at home. He was a bit hesitant about it at first, but eventually agreed, eager to spend more time with you. You chose something slow and peaceful, as opposed to the usual fast cardio routine.

You rolled out your yoga mats in a quiet corner of the living room, ready to start your session. "Alright, Mingi, let's begin with some simple stretches," you said, gesturing for him to follow your lead.

Mingi nodded, a determined look on his face as he mirrored your movements. You guided him through various yoga poses, explaining the significance behind each one with patience and encouragement. As you moved gracefully from one pose to another, you couldn't help but notice Mingi's intense focus on you.

Eventually, you transitioned into a seated position, stretching out your legs. That's when you saw Mingi's gaze flicker down to your thighs, his expression shifting slightly.

Sensing his sudden shift in mood, you paused, meeting his eyes with a soft smile. "Is everything okay, Mingi?"

Mingi hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Y/N, I... I didn't realize..." His voice trailed off, his eyes fixated on the faint scars adorning your skin.

You followed his gaze and realized what he was looking at. You never made an effort to hide them, but you hadn't expected Mingi to notice them either.

You shifted closer to him and reached out, gently placing your hands on his. You took a deep breath, deciding to address it calmly. "Those are just old scars from before. I don't hide them, but I understand if it's a bit surprising."

Mingi blinked back tears, his emotions bubbling to the surface. "I... I never knew. I'm sorry, Y/N. I should've noticed sooner."

You shook your head, squeezing his shoulder gently. "You don't have to apologize, Mingi. You couldn't have known. What matters is that I'm here now, and I'm okay."

Mingi's eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice filled with sincerity. "Y/N, please... promise me you won't struggle alone anymore. I'm here for you, always."

You nodded, a warm smile spreading across your face, as you hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek, making him crack a smile too. "I promise, Mingi.”

• Wooyoung

It was one of those lazy afternoons when you and Wooyoung were both off from work and free from all worries, allowing just the two of you to enjoy each other's company. Of course the best way to spend it was by annoying each other and generally goofing around, engaging in your usual banter and playful teasing.

As you playfully jabbed at Wooyoung's side while he was attempting to pour himself some water, successfully making him spill it, he retaliated by attempting to tickle you. You squirmed and laughed, trying to evade his grasp and running around the apartment, but he managed to corner you and began tickling your sides mercilessly.

"Ah! Wooyoung, stop!" you squealed between giggles, your cheeks flushed from the laughter.

His hands slipped under your shirt, tickling up and down your sides with no mercy as tears escaped your eyes from laughing too much. Abruptly his movements stopped, and a concerned frown creased his forehead as his fingers brushed against thin ridges on the side of your ribs. Gingerly he lifted your shirt, his eyes widened to discover pale white scars strewn across your skin.

"Hey... what's this?" Wooyoung's voice softened as he traced the scars with his thumb, his playful demeanor instantly replaced by worry.

You glanced at him, puzzled by the sudden change in his demeanor, until you followed his gaze down to your ribs. Realization dawned on you, and you gently placed your hand over his, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Ahh those, it's okay, Wooyoung," you said softly. "I'm okay now. You don't need to worry."

He searched your eyes, silently asking for confirmation. Your reassuring words seemed to ease his concern, but he still couldn't shake off the worry completely.

Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss against the scars, his lips warm against your skin. "I love you," he whispered softly, his voice filled with sincerity and affection.

Your heart swelled with warmth at his words, and a giggle bubbled up from within you. Wrapping your arms around him, you hugged him tightly.

• Jongho

As you walked through the door after a painfully long day at work, Jongho couldn't help but notice the weary expression etched on your face. His heart clenched at the sight, knowing all too well the burdens you carried. He had always known of the battles you fought within yourself and the scars they left behind. Yet, out of respect and understanding, he never broached the topic, letting you open up at your own pace.

Today, however, he felt compelled to reach out, to offer you the comfort you so often extended to him.

"Hey, love," he greeted softly, setting aside his book and rising to meet you.

You managed a faint smile, but it didn't quite reach your eyes. "Hey, Jongho."

He stepped closer, his gaze gentle yet searching. "Rough day?"

You sighed, nodding slightly. "Yeah, you could say that."

Taking your hand, he led you to the couch, where he enveloped you in a warm embrace. "I'm here for you, you know? You can always talk to me."

You tensed slightly at his words, your gaze flickering to the floor. But Jongho's reassuring touch grounded you, as he smoothed over the jagged lines on your arms, easing the knots of anxiety that tightened within you.

"I'm just... tired," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Silence settled between you, but it was a comforting silence. Jongho pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his arms secured around you.

Jongho nods, his hand finding yours, offering silent support. "You know you don't have to carry it all alone, right?" he says, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you're grateful for the dim light that hides the vulnerability in your expression. "I know," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

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DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

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TOO CUTE!! NOW WHERE ARE MINE?!?!

dating poly!yungi

more poly!ateez :) 3 out of 5 complete! as always, nsfw at the end

dating yunho and mingi at the same time feels like dating both prince charming and the princess

which may or may not make you the horse

sometimes you feel like the third wheel because they’re just THAT clingy with each other

you might struggle finding your place between these two

but between having one 6 foot man draped over your back while you’re cooking and the other constantly reaching out for your hand at all times of the day, it’s not long before you find it ★

Keep reading

╭──────────────────✎

╰─▗ ▘➤𖥸 dirty my ride

꒰ risa's note ꒱ y'all requested this to be a long fic after this so here it is ;) hope you guys like it 💕

PAIRING: rider! park seonghwa x f! reader (est relation)

SUMMARY: you are so horny and your boyfriend isn't here to tend to you so what do you do?

WARNING: bike humping, slut calling, cursing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, doggy style on bike, bodily fluids on bike, bike sex, reader fainting due to intensity of orgasm, not proof read

you stare mindlessly at the tv while chewing your bottom lip, your legs pressed together to somehow calm your dying need of relief, you were alone in your house so you could help yourself out but after you started dating hwa your toys or your fingers haven't been able to help you reach your orgasm but maybe if you tried harder your toys could be useful but your loving boyfriend had hidden then from you well and you also weren't allowed to use them without his permission. your groaned and fell back against the couch going more restless second by second, turning the tv off you decided to snoop around again for the sake of finding your toys, you had checked your guys bedroom, guestroom, bathroom, even kitchen but they were no where to be found the only place you hadn't checked was the garage so you decided to head towards the direction of it.

the garage was also labeled as hwa's office (kinda) as he mostly spent his time there fixing and tuning his bike and sometimes his friends too so you had some hope that your toys could be there, as you opened the door you were greeted with the dimly lit up room so decided to turn on the lights and started to search for your belongings, the garage was well organized and clean so you it didn't took you much time to scan out the whole room, now standing in the middle on the room glaring at seonghwa in the picture that was hanging on the wall "fucking asshole" you muttered under your breath, you were about to head out when your gaze fell on the dark blue sleek bike standing there.

this bike was gifted to you by your boyfriend but you still didn't knew how to drive well so it was standing in the garage for most of the time, your feet moved forward in the direction of it admiring it when suddenly an idea popped up in your head, for 5 solid minutes you stood there contemplating your decision but your arousal grew more as you thought about it, without wasting much time you discarded your shorts and panties now just in a baggy shirt you grabbed the keys from the shelf and started the bike and revved it a bit the sound echoing through the whole room.

after examining the bike stand so you won't fall off you got on the bike, a low moan leaving your mouth as your bare wet core came in contact with the cold metal frame, steading yourself on it you started humping on it, the vibrations causing your cunt to flow like a river, after moving cautiously on it you started to increase your pace because the only thing on your mind was to achieve your deserved orgasm, a high pitched moan left your mouth as you revved the bike a bit more fuck did that felt like heaven, your hands slithered there way in your shirt pulling it off as you fingers pinched your nipples, the room filled with the sounds of your needy moans and bike engine.

as you felt the knot in your stomach was about to combust you increased your pace, now grinding faster chasing after the blissful feeling, revving the bike a bit more your orgasm rushed over you leaving you a panting and shivering mess, with teary eyes and swollen red lips from biting a complete fucked out mess.you turned off the bike , as you caught your breath, eyes closed and head limply resting against the handle of the bike the presence of your boyfriend went unnoticed by you, who was at loss of words starting at you both in shock and amazement, the whole ordeal made him hard as a rock and the only thing going through his mind was how good he was about to fuck you so next time you wouldn't be able to find relief with your new toy.

silently taking his own gear off except the gloves he now stood there in the room in a black tank top and his underwear and moved his feet in your direction, as he now stood hovering over he gently laid his hands on your plump hips, the sudden contact caused you to jerk up now face to face with your loving boyfriend "hwa when did you-u got home?" you asked him still in shock "just in time to watch the whole slutty show my slutty lover puts on behind me hmmm am I right my lil slut" " yeh did you liked it baby" you giggled and asked him as his hands started to roam around your body "fuckin' *kiss* loved *kiss* every *kiss* sec *kiss* of *kiss* it *kiss* baby *kiss*".

seonghwa's tongue was now intertwined with your own, his gloved hands on your hips and breasts groping and slapping them equally providing them with attention, your own hands tangled up in his hair and palming his aching cock "am gonna fuck you so good your new toy wont be of use anymore" he murmured against your lips diving again for a sloppy kiss "oh yeah prove it baby" taking your words as a challenge he detached his lips form yours and got behind you on the bike his feet still on the ground due to his height, lifting your hips up from the frame he glanced at the mess you made, cursing under his breath that 'how fucking hot is that' he pushed his boxers down, his cock sprang up tip angry red and leaking "arch for me baby" he ordered and you did as he said and arched your back now both your holes on display for him.

he grabbed your ass cheeks in his gloved hands pulling them more apart and spat on your already leaking cunt, groaning at the sight, he grabbed his cock and pushed only the head in teasing you "hwaaa~ you afraid of the chal- ahh fuck" before you could complete your sentence he rammed himself inside you till his balls smacked against your core, taking your arms in his one hand he held them on your back completely restricting you from any movement and with other he turned on the bike and revved it harshly while moving balls deep inside you "feelin' so good baby fuck", you mouth now only spewing moans and curses about how 'good it feels' while tears fell from your eyes.

seomghwa kept ramming in you hard and fast while his hand smacked and smoothed your ass cheeks each at a time making your mind hazy and stars in your eyes as your second orgasm rushed over you "fuck did you just came baby noo we were suppose to cum together come on give me another" he revved the bike again making you scream due of the sensitivity leaning down against your back his pace became inhumane while he nipped and sucked at your neck and shoulders, you were sure if it wasn't for him to be still standing you would have gone flying forward as a result of his pace "cummin' huh ahh cummin' cummin" you managed to speak some words in between the train of your moans "yes baby give it to me just like that" he buried his face in your back as he groaned his heart out as your walls clenched tightly around his cock, as he coated your walls white with his own cum.

both of your figures shivering and twitching, you both sat there for awhile catching your breaths after a few minutes of seonghwa detached himself from you his hands leaving your arms as the limply fell off your sides and pulled himself out of you, he stared in awe as both your juices seeped out of your whole and ran down the bike making him almost hard again taking a mental picture of it he, helped you off the bike and turned it off now carrying you in bridal style as you fell asleep (or fainted due the pleasure) seeing your sleepy state he took it as a win that he definitely won the challenge.

now this is totallyyyyy fictional but never try this irl man we don't know what might happen so stay safe and don't try doing weird shit this just fictional purposes

Yandere ATZ Masterlist

Started: 04/30/24

Last Updated: 05/01/24

Total Works: 1 (ongoing)

Works OTW: 10

𝔇𝔒𝔚𝔑𝔗𝔒𝔚𝔑 𝔈𝔓ℑ𝔖𝔒𝔇𝔈 ℑ:

WARNING ⚠️ THE STORY CONTAINS:

Racism

Vulgar language

Racial slurs

Murder

Selling and Usage of illegal drugs and weapons

Abuse

Stalking

MDNI (will be blocked)

CHARACTER BIO:

Kim Ho-Yeon AKA Isis

Age: 17

Race: Korean/African American

Nationality: American

Kim Kai

Age: 21

Race: Korean/African American

Nationality: American

Troy Pierre Johnson AKA T-Ball

Age: 31

Race: Haitian

Nationality: American

Marcus Deville

Age: 38

Race: Haitian

Nationality: American

Ezell Capris AKA Crusher

Age: 28

Race: African American

Nationality: American

Song Mingi

Age: 20

Race: Asian

Nationality: Korean

I never wanted this.

Boots pounding against the cracked pavement, sweat stinging my eyes, breath ragged in my throat. The neon lights of Bourbon Street faded behind me, replaced by the suffocating darkness of New Orleans' forgotten alleys. I clutched the money and drugs tightly in my trembling hands, my knuckles white, the illicit gains of another midnight deal gone wrong. Sirens screamed in the distance, getting closer, louder. My heart raced, my blood pounded, my mind raced with fractured thoughts.

How did I get here? How did my world spiral into this pit of despair?

"Ayo Isis, you got a deal tonight," Troy had told me earlier outside the school, sliding a bundle of cash and a package of dope across the hood of the car. His eyes held that predatory glint, a look of hunger and power masked by false camaraderie. "Midnight, same spot. Don't be late."

I wasn't late. I was never late. Not to the deals that ensured some semblance of survival. The cracked facade of life I barely clung to depended on these dangerous exchanges. I'd met Marcus just under the flickering streetlight, the old wrought-iron fence of St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 looming behind us like grim sentinels.

"You got the stuff?" Marcus had asked, voice trembling despite the bravado etched into his thin, haggard face.

Something was off. He was never nervous about a deal. Was he tweakin or feenin? Shit Ion know but imma need this shit to be quick.

"Right here," I replied, still looking at him skeptical, producing the crumpled bag from my jacket pocket. "You got the cash?"

He nodded, eyes darting around nervously. I noticed how his hands shook as he tried to count the money. That’s when the sirens split the night, the red and blue lights flooding the alley in an unholy glare.

“Mother fucka!” I murmured. My hand next to my Glock.

"Freeze! NOPD!" The shout echoed off the bricks, a command more final than any sentence.

Pandemonium.

Marcus had panicked, dropping the cash, his feet slipping on the damp, algae-coated alley stones. The cops were on him in a heartbeat.

"Don't move!" But Marcus moved. He reached inside his jacket—maybe reaching for another baggie, a desperate bluff, who knows? The shot rang out, louder than the blare of sirens. A burst of light, and he crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath him like a spreading inkblot. The warmth of his blood hitting my face.

For a moment, my world stood still. Marcus—another body fallen to the streets, another casualty of survival painted in blood. I ran. Don't look back, Isis.

Just run.

“FREEZE!”

The alleyways twisted and turned, a maze of filth and decay. The sirens clung to me like malevolent spirits. I could hear the radios crackle, disembodied voices barking commands and coordinates. The cemetery loomed ahead, its dilapidated gates inviting me into its embrace. Through the iron bars and into its shadowed sanctuary I flew, slipping into an old, musty mausoleum. The door groaned as I forced it shut, and I crouched in the dark, fighting to silence my gasps.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. The sirens faded, and the night swallowed the sounds. Even the cops seemed to respect the cemetery’s morbid peace. Wasn’t tryna risk no evil spirits I guess.

I waited in that cold, narrow space, my senses tuned to every rustle, every whisper of the dead. When at last the silence confirmed my solitude, I crawled back out into the moonlit graveyard. Exhaustion overwhelmed me. I dropped to the ground, feeling the dirt and stones beneath my hands. Tears, bitter and hot, streamed down my face as I hugged my knees to my chest.

"I don't want this," I whispered, voice cracking. The words fell into the night like prayers to a god who had turned away long ago. "I don't want any of this."

But what did I want? Escape? Redemption? My mother always said I was the brightest and will be something.

Damn, I’m sure letting her down.

After a long walk back to my house in a rundown part of town, I finally reached the creaky, paint-chipped door that led to our sanctuary. Or, what passed for one these days. Pushing it open, I found my brothers and the gang sprawled on the ratty couch, the haze of kush smoke choking the cramped room.

Kai, my older brother, was the first to speak. “So, how was the deal?” His voice was calm, too calm for this line of questioning.

“A bust,” I replied, my voice hollow. “Marcus got capped.”

The air in the room seemed to thicken, silence swallowing the words. Their expressions hardened, eyes flickering with barely concealed fear and anger. Troy, NOLA’s biggest pusher, looked up, his jaw set.

“You still got the dope?” His question cut through the tension like a knife.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the baggie and crumpled money, tossing it onto the scarred coffee table. “Yeah, and Marcus’s money. Swiped it while he was getting blasted by the feds.”

A murmur ran through the room. Troy’s face twisted into a sneer. “Damn, Marcus. Shit!” I shouted, slamming my fist against the wooden doorframe. The pain was a minor spark in the inferno raging inside me.

“Fool, Marcus was a basehead and a snitch. Nobody knew about that deal but us. I bet his ass snitched,” Troy said, his eyes narrowing. “Nigga had it coming.”

My anger flared. “Marcus wouldn’t sell us out.”

Troy’s eyes bored into mine, unrelenting. “Then who did, Isis?”

I had no answer. I paced the room, frustration boiling over. “As long as we got the dope, we’re good. So chill bitch.” He took a puff of his blunt. “Why worry about Marcus’s dead ass? Another worthless nigga dead.”

But the weight of my earlier words, "I don't wanna do this shit anymore," hung in the air. Frustration coursed through me like a poison. “I’m tired of this, Troy. Every day I’m out here risking my life, and for what? We’re still in the same bullshit! This isn’t getting us anywhere!”

Troy stood up, slamming his fist into the wall beside my head. “Bitch you ain’t getting out until when I say you can. I took you and your brothers in after ya moms died. I say what it’s gonna be, aight?”

I shoved him back, fury overriding fear. “And one is dead! So clearly, the dope game ain’t it, Troy, nigga the rest of us still in the trenches while you out living the good life!”

I stormed out, slamming the door behind me, the sound echoing in the tight alleyways. Tears blurred my vision as I wandered the darkened streets, seeking solace in the shadows. My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me back to the here and now. It was a text from Kai: “Yo man you gotta chill. Troy only has your best interest.”

I snapped the phone shut, anger and helplessness intertwining. Deep in my heart, I knew he was wrong. Troy’s “interest” was a leash around our necks, tightening with each passing day.

“Nigga, Troy ain’t even got the best interest for his damn self. Ion know why you still believe his bullshit. We ain’t getting rich. We ain’t leaving the hood.”

Closing my phone, I just took a deep breath.

I continued to walk, the oppressive night swallowing me.

Gangbangers loitered on corners, bottles and burners in hand.

Homeless baseheads strung out on fent and rock, begging for money to get more dope.

Hoes on the corner selling pussy just to survive these trenches.

We all broken statues in the bleak cityscape.

“I gotta get out of this,” I whispered to myself, voicing the secret I had harbored for months. Memories of my mother, Kim Hanuel, flooded back.

Mom was a Korean immigrant, a resilient woman who fought tooth and nail to give us a chance. She raised three children on her own amidst the unforgiving ghettos of New Orleans, working endless hours cleaning offices and houses, always with a gentle but determined smile. Dad was a ghost, a deadbeat who ran with gangs, chasing dreams of a quick and dirty come-up only to vanish without a trace.

That deadbeat ass nigga. Knocking up my moms, a naive woman who wanted love in all the wrong places.

I imagined her despair if she could see us now—Kai deep in the game, Minho a casualty in a senseless drive-by, and me; a straight-A student and peak athlete and here I am, slangin and bangin.

Fucked up turn of events.

I look around and see the surroundings more. Shaking my head.

The ghetto.

Every tired step, every weary breath, reminded me of where I was born and raised, surrounded by shadows and despair. This life was a landscape of crumbling buildings, flickering streetlights, and alleyways littered with forgotten souls.

I walked forward, hyper-aware of my surroundings yet lost in my thoughts. Top of my class in high school, an exceptional athlete with dreams once so bright, now tarnished by nights like this, running from the law, clinging to survival. At seventeen, I found myself risking everything, bound to a gang I never chose but was forced into. My mother hadn’t died for this; her sacrifices were not meant to be repaid in blood and betrayal.

Passing through the maze of tombstones, I found myself at the Lafayette Cemetery, an abandoned part where the forgotten were laid to rest. Onto the cold stone of a nameless tomb, I lowered myself, fatigue settling deep in my bones.

“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind me sitting here,” I whispered to the silent grave. “I promise I’ll be respectful.”

I let my head fall into my hands, the weight of everything crashing down on me. The memories played in my mind like a cursed film reel. Twelve years old, timid but desperate, selling my first dime bag to a shady man who smirked at my fear. By fourteen, hardened by necessity, I was pulling triggers in drive-bys I had no choice but to participate in. Killing 2 rival gang members in the process.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and salty, falling into the earth below me. I sobbed, an animalistic release of years of pain and hopelessness.

Finally, when my tears dried up, leaving only a dull ache in their wake, I stood and wandered deeper into the cemetery. As I moved quietly through the darkness, voices reached my ears, sharp and urgent. I ducked behind a statue, straining to hear. They were speaking Korean. My heart skipped a beat, the familiar cadence of my mother’s tongue pulling me back to her memory.

“Sir, we know Troy Johnson is in this city,” one of the men said.

My eyes widened.

“Good, we should ask some locals. He does owe us a lot of money,” another voice replied.

I held my breath, listening intently.

“Find him and finish him off. He has scammed us long enough.”

The blood drained from my face. These men were serious and they were coming for Troy. Without another thought, I broke into a run, sprinting back through the cemetery, out into the streets, and towards home. Panic fueled my steps, the dark cityscape blurring around me as I flew past graffiti-stained walls, darting through alleys and across deserted roadways.

I burst through the door of our house, out of breath, eyes wild. The room fell silent as everyone looked up.

“Where’s Troy?” I demanded, my voice tinged with both fear and resolve.

Kai, leaning against the wall with a cigarette, flicked ashes into a dirty tray. “What’s going on, Ho-Yeon?” he asked, using my birth name, a sign he knew this was serious.

“I need to know where he is, Kai. Now!” My eyes locked onto his, burning with urgency.

“He went to see Danny about an hour ago,” Kai said, concern creasing his brow. “Da fuck goin on?”

“Korean m’fuckas are after him. Saying Troy scammed them.”

The color from Kai’s face flushed. “Koreans? Where you see them?”

“Lafayette.”

“Did they see you?”

I shook my head.

“You sure they Korean?”

“I’m positive. They were speaking Korean—Mom’s dialect, I heard and understood everything.” I could see the fear creeping into his stoic mask. “We need to find him. Now.”

Kai bit his nail, “Kai, who are they?” I asked in panic trying to call Troy.

*The number you reached is unavailable, please call again later.*

Kai remained silent.

I looked at him, confused. “Kai! WHO ARE THEY?!”

“I don’t know! We need to find his dumbass!”

Kai’s face hardened, and he started dialing Troy’s number. Voicemail. Again and again. I did the same, praying to hear his voice. Nothing.

“Call Danny,” Kai ordered. But even Danny’s phone kept going to voicemail.

Kai turned to the others in the room. “Start calling everyone. Now.”

The first to answer was Crusher, an OG who commanded respect just by entering the room. “‘Sup, why y’all m’fuckas blowin’ up my phone?”

“Some Korean folk looking to take out Troy,” Kai said, voice tight with urgency.

“Maaaan, what!? Hell nah cuh, Where he at?” Crusher’s deep husky voice lost its usual coolness, replaced by a sharp edge.

“He’s with Danny, but Danny ain’t answering either!” I cut in, panic surging.

Crusher sounded nervous, something I’d never heard before. “Shit, They prolly at She She’s. We on it.”

Kai nodded, then turned to me. “Crush, get errbody. Meet us at She She’s,” he said.

I raced upstairs, grabbing my uzis and strapping them to my waist. Tearing apart my closet I pulled out a shotgun. I was preparing for war because, at this rate, that’s exactly what it was.

A war I didn’t want to be in, but fuck it, if Troy dies, we all die.

Downstairs, I grabbed my helmet and the keys to my Kawasaki Ninja—a gift from Kai when I made the track team. “Kai, take them and head to the club. I’m right behind.”

He nodded, grim but resolute. The men in the house were a small army, ready for anything. And they had to be.

The bike roared to life, vibrating beneath me as I tore through the streets, the gritty city blurring around me. My heart pounded as I navigated the familiar paths, dodging cars and pedestrians, racing toward She She’s.

The strip club was located on the outskirts of the city limits.

A desolate area with a massive booty club on a dirt and gravel road.

I arrived to see Troy’s G-Wagon parked outside. Crusher was right, he was here. Music thumped from inside the club, a pounding rhythm that matched my racing heart. I couldn’t get in—underage—but I patrolled the perimeter, scanning for any sign of danger.

Moments later, twenty cars rolled up, Crusher and the rest of the crew spilling out like an unstoppable force. I sprinted to Crusher, my boots crunching on the gravel.

“So who we lookin’ for?” he asked, his imposing figure dwarfing mine.

“I couldn’t make out faces, but they’re dressed in suits and they’re Korean.”

“Mmm. Aight, good enough. AYO, listen up!” Crusher's voice boomed. “We lookin’ for some chink mu’fuckas. Y’all know what to do. They roll up, blast them fools!”

I nodded and ran around back to make sure the Koreans wouldn’t infiltrate the back.

Making my way around to the back of the club, I crouched behind a rusted dumpster, eyes scanning the alley for any sign of the Koreans. The distant mumble of my gang’s voices drifted through the deep night, almost comforting. I allowed myself a moment to catch my breath.

Then it all happened so fast.

The sound of cars zooming into the pavement, the sound of doors slamming and the Korean language.

My heart dropped.

The air around me exploded with a symphony of chaos—shouts, screams, and the deafening barrage of gunfire. It echoed through the narrow alley like a war zone. My heart leaped to my throat as I bolted toward the front, instincts taking over.

My hand on one of the uzis, ready to battle. Rounding the corner, I collided with Kai. His eyes widened in horror as he reached out to steady me, thrusting a set of keys and a crumpled sheet of paper into my hand.

“Go to this address, NOW!” he shouted over the cacophony.

“Kai, what is this?!” I yelled back, adrenaline spiking through me.

His face was a mask of urgency, lines etched deep from worry. “I’ll explain it all later, just go! I ain’t losing another sibling.” He glanced over his shoulder where Benzes, BMWs, and Hummers swarmed the street, Korean men in suits exchanging gunfire with our gang. I peeked, my breath catching as I took in the full scope of the chaos—a war zone right in the desolate bayou.

“Kai... come back in one piece,” I said, voice breaking, wrapping him in a quick hug.

“I will. Now go!” he urged, pushing me away and into motion.

My legs propelled me back through the alley, towards the now dirt-encrusted bike parked behind the club. The engine roared to life, a welcome sound amidst the madness.

I sped off passing the battle before me, I saw men I grew to love as brothers lying lifeless on the ground. I see Kai and Crusher reloading guns and firing. Tears began to weld in my eyes. Before I could get away;

It was all in slow motion…

As I began to tear down the street, I caught sight of a tall, young blonde Korean man standing at the edge of the fray. His eyes locked onto mine, a cold, calculating gaze that followed me until I was out of sight. Who was he?

I raced through the city, the landscape blurring past me as thoughts buzzed in my head. What was this address? Why had Kai sent me here? The GPS guided me to Algiers Point, guiding me to a neighborhood that felt worlds away from the grimy streets of my reality. I pulled up to a large, well-kept house with neatly trimmed hedges and a spacious porch. This couldn’t be right.

Doubt gnawed at me, but I dismounted the bike, climbing the few steps to the front door. The keys fit perfectly, and the door swung open to reveal a beautifully furnished home. The inside was modern and tasteful, with dark wood floors and high ceilings. My footsteps echoed in the eerie silence, a stark contrast to the bedlam from which I had just fled.

Photos lined the mantelpiece over a fireplace. I stared, recognizing faces. My family. Our chaotic, battered, endearing family, immortalized in frames that seemed out of place here.

“Whose house is this?” I whispered aloud, a sense of unreality creeping over me.

As I wandered deeper into the house, my fingers grazed the photographs lining the walls. Mom, Minho, Kai and I; our whole family at a long-forgotten barbecue, candid shots of laughter and love. Tears pricked my eyes. This didn’t make sense.

Curiosity drove me up the staircase, each step. Photos of our family members lined the walls. Photos of my grandparents and baby photos of my siblings and I, neatly displayed along the white walls.

I went into a bedroom. The room was simple but nice. I sat on the bed. Looking over I seen a letter:

**"Ho-Yeon aka Isis,"** it began. The handwriting was unmistakably Kai’s, familiar and raw.

---

**"For a while now, prolly 6 years or so, I had this house. Mom left it for us. It was our 'we made it out the hood' gift. Right before she was killed, she gave me the key and told me to get you after school to surprise you. But fuck all the past and sad shit. If you're reading this, it means I ain’t make it out the gutter and I’m prolly shot up and chillin' in a freezer at the morgue downtown."**

Tears streamed down my cheeks, my breath catching in my throat.

**"You ain’t like the rest of these niggas or me. You got something to live for. You’re smart, beautiful and talented. I’m sorry I dragged you into this shit in the first place. Finish high school, go to college, find a nice career and stay the hell away from the hood. I know Troy got eyes all over this m’fucka but I ain’t letting Troy fuck yo life up anymore. I got plans for that nigga if I do make it. I can’t say too much but that nigga a traitor. Anyways I love you...

—Kai"**

I clutched the letter to my chest, the paper crumpling in my trembling hands. The words sank deep into my heart, carving out an emptiness I didn’t think I could feel anymore. I whispered, "Lord, if you’re real, please protect Kai."

Exhausted, my body gave in, and I slumped onto the bed, drifting into a restless sleep filled with shadows and uncertainty.

---

Morning came too soon, the alarm blaring me back to reality. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft golden hues across the room. I looked at my phone; there were texts from Troy, causing my heart to seize with dread. I opened them, **"Meet up at the spot after school."**

I rolled my eyes but couldn't ignore the gnawing anxiety that followed. Heart hammering, I dialed Kai's number. One ring, two rings—it felt like an eternity.

**"H-hello?"**

Relief washed over me. "You're okay," I breathed.

**“Yeah, I'm good. Aye, look, I’ll call you later, okay? Go to school. You got clothes in the closet."**

"Kai," I hesitated, my voice barely above a whisper, "thank you."

**"I love you, Ho-Yeon. I told you, I'll never let you down."** he said in Korean.

He hung up, leaving me clutching the phone to my chest. I needed that shower more than ever, washing away the grime of the previous night—water mingling with tears as the blonde man's face continued to haunt me. His cold dark eyes staring into my soul. My body shuttered.

---

Driving to school felt surreal. I parked, and as I walked in, the murmurs and whispers among the students surrounded me.

"Yo Isis! Did you hear about that wild ass shooting at She She’s last night? Looks like T-Ball’s gang got blasted by some mafia fools," James called out.

“Really? Damn,” I played it off, trying to mask the turmoil boiling inside me.

"T-Ball made it out,” his voice trailed off I could see in his eyes he was thinking of something else, “but..”

“But?” I repeated.

“Crusher ain’t make it.”

My world shattered. Crusher was the unconventional father figure I had. He made sure me and the brothers was good. Yeah he was a killer and a pusher but he loved us as if we were his own.

I bit my lip, trying not to cry.

James continued, “they said they finna hold a service for him next Saturday. You goin?”

I nodded. “Yeah, aye, imma get to class.”

Crusher. Damn… Troy gotta pay for this shit.

Sitting in class, my usual focus drowned in an ocean of fear and uncertainty, I stared blankly at the pages of my textbook. Words floated in front of my eyes, meaningless, as my mind spiraled back to last night. Thoughts of Crusher, Troy, and the violence that seemed to cling to me like a second skin kept replaying in my head. Who else had to die for Troy’s nonsense?

The bell rang, pulling me into the present, and I winced. Lunch was over and I had kept myself distant, avoiding the usual chatter and laughter of my classmates. It was time for Advanced English, a class I usually loved, but today I doubted I’d absorb a thing. My thoughts were scattered like leaves in the wind.

As I walked into the classroom, I chose a seat by the window. Maybe the view would distract me from the relentless storm brewing inside my mind. But what I saw outside only invited a new kind of anxiety.

Parked just outside the fence of the school was the same black Mercedes Benz from last night. My heart dropped into my stomach. The Korean mafia. I lay my head down on the desk, peeking through the window, hoping I was wrong, hoping I was imagining things.

The tall blonde man stepped out of the car, scanning the schoolyard with cold, calculating eyes. I recognized him immediately. He looked up at the building, and I prayed he wouldn’t see me. For what felt like an eternity, he stood there, his gaze sweeping across the windows. My breath hitched, my body shaking with fear like never before. Yet, by some miracle, he didn’t notice me. He got back into the car and drove off.

For the first time in a long time, I felt genuine, paralyzing fear. They’re after me.

With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and texted Kai.

“Kai, those Korean mafia men are outside the school.”

Not even seconds later, he texted back, “WHAT?! Are you sure?”

“It was the tall blonde.”

“Fuck, I’ll let Troy know. Don’t leave the building until I say so.”

“👍” I texted back.

Two more hours of school. Then I had track practice. Just get through the day, I told myself. Just get through it.

After school, I headed to the track coach’s office, hoping to excuse myself from practice.

“Heeey Mr. Kennedy, I’m not feeling too well, I can’t do practice today. Is it cool if I miss out?” I tried to keep my voice steady, casual.

Mr. Kennedy looked up at me, his eyes skeptical. “Now why should I believe that? You look fine.”

“I–I got a real bad stomach ache. Please?” I pleaded, my fear bubbling just beneath the surface.

He wasn’t buying it. “You must think I’m boo-boo the fool? Go get ready for practice.”

My heart sank. I couldn’t afford to be on that track, out in the open. “Mr. Kennedy, please, it’s really bad. I promise I’ll make up for it next time.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me. “You’ve never missed a practice without a good reason, Kim. What’s really going on?”

The room felt smaller, the walls closing in as I struggled to keep my composure. How could I explain without giving away too much? “I just… I don’t feel safe today.” It was the closest to the truth I could get without spreading panic.

Mr. Kennedy’s expression softened a fraction. “Safe? Kim, if something’s going on, you need to let someone know. The school can help.”

I shook my head, feeling the weight of secrets and lies pressing down on me. “I can handle it, Mr. Kennedy.”

He sat on the edge of his desk. “Ho-Yeon. Now don’t think I don’t know about what you do.” I looked up at him. “Now I understand because I was in the same position as you as a youngin’, poppin fools and chasing a bag. But I know you, you ain’t like Kai or Minho. You got a good head on ya shoulder na’ girl. So what’s going on.”

I was hesitant, but I told him everything.

“Korean mafia? Whooo T-Ball fucked up big time.” He said rubbing his temples. “Always some dumb nigga who get a lil bit of money and then fuck up and make the worst kind of enemies.”

“So can I please miss today?”

“Yeah. You stay in the office and I’ll take you home.”

I got up and hugged him. “Thank you.”

Two hours went by. My anxiety through the roof. My phone blowing up nonstop.

Kai FaceTimed, “hello?”

“Hey, Troy said to stay low and go stay at Lisa’s house.” He turned to see if anyone was listening on, he quickly switched to Korean, “look, I called Lisa and she said she’ll cover for you. Troy don’t know about the house, so go there and lay low. I’ll be there when I can.”

I nodded, he hung up.

The sun began to set. My leg bouncing nonstop.

Mr. Kennedy came in. “Alright let’s go.”

Mr. Kennedy took me to my new home. “Damn I see trappin got you out huh?” He said looking at the window of my house. “Please don’t mention this home to anyone,” I begged.

“Of course,” he replied with a reassuring nod.

I got out of the car and ran inside, locking all the doors and closing the windows. Fear and anxiety coursed through my body, making my hands shake as I double-checked each lock. It wasn’t until I’d walked through every room that I allowed myself to relax, if only a little.

Each day was the same, run home, hide and wait for Kai. Kai never came. He could only message me. In this big house, what could have been moms, Minho, Kai and me… is just me. Lonely. As much as I’m glad I’m not selling and away from Troy, I miss the homies. This shit is depressing.

Another long ass day of school and practice. It was dark by the time I got in. Nerves been calm since I didn’t see or feel threatened anymore.

Thirsty, going into the spacious kitchen. I pulled a glass from the cabinet.

As I reached for a glass, a cool, gloved hand suddenly clamped over my mouth, and another hand gripped my body tightly. Panic set in as I struggled against the larger intruder, instinctively stomping on their foot and jabbing my elbow into their ribs. I broke free and ran for my bedroom, needing to grab my Glock.

Screaming help was useless. This house easily swallowed my screams and pleas. As I made it to my bedroom, my body froze.

I stood in front of the doorway, heart pounding. There he was, the blonde man was sitting on my bed, smiling. Dressed in a fitted black suit with a white button down shirt and loafers. He was imposing, with a presence that sucked the air out of the room.

“Annyeonghaseyo,” he said, his voice deep and husky, his eyes predatory and cold.

My body trembled. “A-annyeonghaseyo,” I stammered back, my voice barely audible.

He smiled wider. “I’m Song Mingi. And you must be one of Troy Johnson’s lapdogs.”

My eyes widened in fear as the realization of who he was set in. “L-look man, I just sell drugs that he gives me and—”

“Yes, the drugs he gives you belongs to me. You see, Mr. Johnson steals from me and makes beautiful girls like you sell for his own gain.” His thick Korean accent made each word slice through the air.

“I-I truly had no idea,” I pleaded, my voice choking on the lump of terror sitting in my throat.

He patted the bed beside him. “Come sit, no need to be scared of me. I’m not here to hurt you, unless you give me a reason to.” There was a dangerous glint in his eye that made the blood in my veins run cold.

I shook, rooted to the spot. “M-mmh, imma stand right here.” His eyes darkened, and his voice dropped an octave. “I do not like to ask twice. Sit.”

I nodded frantically and sat beside him, every instinct screaming at me to run, but my legs felt like they were made of lead.

“Good,” he said, his tone softer but no less menacing. “Now, let’s talk business.” He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a sleek silver knife, its blade reflecting the moonlight that filled the dark room.

“What—what do you want from me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I need your help, Isis,or better yet, Kim Ho-Yeon” he said, twirling the knife between his fingers with practiced ease. “You have access to places and people I need information about, including Troy Johnson.”

“But why me?” I asked, tears welling in my eyes.

“Because you’re already in the game. And whether you like it or not, you’re valuable to me and I been watching you for a long time now,” he replied coolly. “Help me, and you might just walk away from this unscathed. And I’ll even make you an offer, you’ll be a rich woman.”

My heart pounded in my chest, the weight of his words pressing down on me. “What do you need me to do?”

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. His hand on my thigh, “I need you to find out where Troy is hiding my product and who else he’s working with. You do that, and I’ll make sure Troy pays for what he’s done.”

Something in his tone promised violence, and the thought of being caught between two dangerous men made me feel sick. “And if I refuse?”

His smile returned, but it was colder than before. “Refusing would be very unwise.”

He sat up, “I’ll give you until tomorrow morning to think it over.” He walks out the bedroom door, “also, happy early birthday.”

“H-how did you kn-“

“I know everything about you.”

My mind running circles. Confused, scared, lost. My mind went to Kai.

“Wait, what about Kai?”

He turns, “Ah yes, your brother… all depends on him. He already is aware Troy is not to be trusted. Just he needs a little push, he’s brainwashed at the moment.”

“Song Mingi!” I called out.

“You can call me just Mingi, beautiful.”

I shuttered, “I- I mean how can I know for sure I’ll be safe if I turn against Troy.”

He smiles, he walks over to the bed. His large soft hand brushes my face. “You’ll see, as I said you have until tomorrow morning. Make the right choice.” His plump lips kissed my cheek. A soft gentle kiss and made my face turn red. He chuckled at my reaction. “Cute.”

Finally alone my mind is racing.

I had to choose between my life if I say no. Or betraying Troy and the rest of the gang. Either way it’s a death sentence. Was Mingi telling the truth. His body language tells me he was not lying.

But who knows.

I want out of this shit.

The next morning:

I woke up from a shitty slumber and saw my phone vibrating, the number was unknown, “hello?”

“Good morning my beautiful Ho-Yeon. Have we made a decision?”

I looked back at how Troy did us, had us in some ran down trap house, selling bricks for him and only giving us chump change in return while he drove off in a G-Wagon and had it all. How he left Minho to die on the streets, how Crusher died for his selfish gain. How all these street niggas bow down to him because he got it and they want what he has. The fantasy he painted for them. ‘Hood rich’… And then how moms died trying to protect us from him…

Nah, he gotta go.

Troy is the real enemy.

Troy is my enemy.

“I’m in.”

“I knew you’d make the right choice.”

⭒ 𝟭𝟭:𝟯𝟳 𝗽𝗺

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⸻  

⠀⠀

warning: suggestive, established relationship

pairings: san x reader (no gender)

a/n: it’s been really long since i writed on this account, so i hope you’ll like this. don’t forget that requests are still open.

⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⸻  

it was late at night, and he was playing videogames while you were sitting behind him on his bed boring. finally you had enough, so you started walking towards him taking off his headphones despite his protests and also taking off his hands the controller and turning it off.

  “what are you doing?,” he says pouting while looking at you. standing in between his legs, you recline his seat until he leans back. lifts one brow at that before you climb onto his lap causing him to growl. “what are you doing?,’’ he asks again but this time more breathier.

’‘enjoying time with my boyfriend,’’ you say as you slowly put your hand under his shirt running up his chest. you see him swallowing with difficulty. his well marked adam’s apple moving with the movement making him to take deep breaths. leaning closer to him, you begin to place kisses on his neck just as his hands grip your hips, his fingers holding you roughly as his touch sends shivers through your body. then all of a sudden you walk away and get off him leaving him all hot and bothered.

’'what?-,” he says confused. you turn around and make eye contact with him, “for not paying attention to me” you say as you winked at him and walk off just when he stops you grabbing your wrist and pushing you into his board chest.

“not so quickly…” whispers in your ear with a smirk on his lips.

⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⸻  

⭒ 𝟭𝟭:𝟯𝟳 𝗽𝗺

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⸻  

⠀⠀

warning: suggestive, established relationship

pairings: san x reader (no gender)

a/n: it’s been really long since i writed on this account, so i hope you’ll like this. don’t forget that requests are still open.

⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⸻  

it was late at night, and he was playing videogames while you were sitting behind him on his bed boring. finally you had enough, so you started walking towards him taking off his headphones despite his protests and also taking off his hands the controller and turning it off.

  “what are you doing?,” he says pouting while looking at you. standing in between his legs, you recline his seat until he leans back. lifts one brow at that before you climb onto his lap causing him to growl. “what are you doing?,’’ he asks again but this time more breathier.

’‘enjoying time with my boyfriend,’’ you say as you slowly put your hand under his shirt running up his chest. you see him swallowing with difficulty. his well marked adam’s apple moving with the movement making him to take deep breaths. leaning closer to him, you begin to place kisses on his neck just as his hands grip your hips, his fingers holding you roughly as his touch sends shivers through your body. then all of a sudden you walk away and get off him leaving him all hot and bothered.

’'what?-,” he says confused. you turn around and make eye contact with him, “for not paying attention to me” you say as you winked at him and walk off just when he stops you grabbing your wrist and pushing you into his board chest.

“not so quickly…” whispers in your ear with a smirk on his lips.

⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⸻