One Of My Faves - Tumblr Posts

loved loved loved

I just want it to be worth it. 

Fashion is the most powerful art there is. It’s movement, design, and architecture all in one. It shows the world who we are, and who we’d like to be.

Legally Blonde (2001) dir Robert Luketic “To prepare for her role as Elle, Reese Witherspoon spent two weeks studying the behavior of sorority girls, as she did not wish to portray a stereotypical airhead sorority image. She states on the DVD commentary that they were all very kind and polite, and she enjoyed her time with them. She also observed women shopping from the café at Neiman Marcus, and attended law school for a day.”

raina thorpe fashion — gossip girl

master and apprentice

LY Tear Concept Jacket Shoot ★ for @taegularities 

AHHHHHH

that was a good way to end it :,)

So silly

Silly remarks

Banter.

wow. WAOW. !!!

Everyone should read this.

high key satisfying read.

please! — epilogue: losers, lovers and lesbians

masterlist | end.

— y/n is most definitely not immune to pretty girls, and hanni is very pretty. she begs for one chance, but when it's given, what will she do?

## taglist ! @lcv3lies @yourwife @haerpins @rosielover69 @luvkait @lizseos @gojosrug @xuimhao @captivq @yumtooki @ahnneyong @seeju @sserajeans @phamminji @llluvbluy @sserafimez @misumiausworld @lostamoeba @archerheejin @skisk1 @giginings @falling-intoo-deep @jenaissantesworld @txtbrainrot @luvrsxt ...

RAHHHHHH WAIT!!!! Ok wait. I need to read it. I’ll be back.

ok. Um so I’m back. Im so emo. Like. 🛌 I. I don’t even know what to say. THE SONG TOO!!!??!? Ugh. It’s perfect. You did it again. This will be saved somewhere for me to comeback to if I’m in my feels. :,)

say that's it love

on a day when stars pour down, so precious and rare I'll listen to every word you say, especially when it's love

word count : 4.8k words

genre : fluff and a sprinkle of appreciation for the people around you; you've been planning to confess but end up failing and you finally realize plans don't work; florist!hanni x fem!reader (a year older than hanni); girlfriends for the win !

t/w : none :) mentions of murder but jokingly?? (i fr dk how to t/w stuff)

a/n : hello everyone ! i present to you the final chap for 'baby's breath and lemon candies' series :D i hope this was a good wrap up for the short series :) enjoy !

taglist : @keiji-jin

you've been telling yourself that you were going to confess to hanni. and that has been the seventh time you've told yourself that after making up your mind. thinking and imagining about it was the easy step of the plan, but as you try to move onto the next stage of actually carrying out the confession, you just can't find the right timing to do it. (or more like you were just second guessing everything and maybe, you misunderstood her actions and she doesn't actually like you)

your attempts to confess ended up futile. the first time was very ambitious, as you were overflowing with passion to make it the best (and last) confession hanni would ever receive in her entire life. but that passion was met with the 'closed' sign on blooming potion's front door. a small note in the owner's cute handwriting, indicated she had closed early for personal reasons. (you forgot that hanni told you she was going to close early that day for a high school reunion dinner)

and that fact made you feel a little disheartened as it meant that she was going to be meeting her acquaintances who might possibly take the initiative to hit on hanni. to be fair, she's so beautiful that if they were to find out she was still single, your chance would be out the window that very second. (in the near future, you will come to know that all this worry was all for nothing because this certain someone had already fallen down the rabbit hole of love so deep, and she's happier than ever to be there)

since your plans were technically ruined (by yourself), you trudged your way back to blue rain in hopes that your beloved bosses were still in the middle of cleaning up the cafe. lucky for you, they were and you offered to close together. chaewon and minju noticed that you were looking unusually down hence they invited to go for a drink at downtown. technically, you had nothing to do so why not take up the offer? (safe to say, those two had to carry you back to your place and throw you onto your bed cause you drank till you were wasted)

the following attempt had a small margin of success but you were being a coward during the walk back home with her. fidgeting with the bicycle handles, kicking the small pebbles by the road, looking up into the sky, you name it. you tried so hard to shake off the nervousness and fear of getting rejected if you were to confess at that very moment. and by the time you thought you were ready, hanni had already walked up to her doorstep, waving goodbye with that smile you love. (which had you waving back at her awkwardly, as if you weren't so close to shout across that you liked her. which you didn't because that wasn't the best way to confess, obviously)

many more attempts had similar outcomes — failure. you weren't sure why it would end up being bad timings, or your cowardice getting the better of you. or sometimes, the thought of the confession flew past your head because you were too busy admiring hanni as you adore the way she puckers her lips every now and then when she talks about something, and the way her eyes sparkle when it comes to a topic she is interested in. (you were a simp for her, and you loved every second of it)

"you know, just standing by that counter every day at 8 won't get you a girlfriend."

chaewon's voice broke your trance as you tried to figure what went wrong with the last time you tried to confess.

"and you say that because you confessed to minju-unnie on the third date."

"no, I'm saying that because your ass needs to get moving before someone else stumbles upon your crush and makes a move on her."

you slouched on the counter with your arms, running your hands through your hair in frustration.

"it's not that I don't try, unnie. I've been attempting to for the past seven times."

the older girl gave you a skeptical look before standing from her seat by the window, placing her book down next to her cup of iced tea. (it wasn't peak hour so the shop didn't have any customers for the time being, therefore chaewon took the opportunity to laze around as she sent minju out to deliver the online orders)

"I don't know how you've attempted the past seven times, but have you ever considered not planning ahead?"

you looked up from your slouched position to find her leaning against the counter, eyeing you from above before she made her way into the working station.

"I've known you for three years now, and I just know that you would plan things ahead, a little too much ahead."

all you could do was stay silent and chuckle awkwardly because whatever chaewon had said was undeniably true.

"you love things to be perfect, just like how you would want the confession to be the most special, wonderful and extravagant experience for hanni."

"but you missed out on the part where it needs to be heartfelt."

with that, something rang within you. the bell of realization. you realize you weren't able to bring yourself to confess or carry out that plan in your head as it made things artificial. telling hanni you liked her had to come from your heart, not your brain. (during these kind of times, you thank chaewon for not roasting your dumb ass)

"and with it being heartfelt, it can also be simple."

while the older had hit you with words of wisdom, she had already finished brewing up a fresh cup of ice americano for you. it was one of the easiest to make on the menu and also a staple drink for customers in this season of summer.

just like this cup of ice americano, your confession could be simple and straightforward. no public stunts, no sparkles and party poppers, no surprises that would ruin the mood. just you, yourself, would bring out the best confession that only both you and hanni would ever know.

chaewon could only chuckle at your face of astonishment and enlightenment from her words. if she were to be truthful, although she had confessed on her third date with minju, she had also struggled to confess a lot of times before saying sike by kissing her. she had long noticed her on campus before they had officially met through the arranged date. (therefore she was speaking from experience)

she handed you the cup of coffee before leaving to finish that book she left on the table. as you drank your dose of caffeine for the day, you were motivated to just let that confession come naturally, just like how your feelings for hanni fell upon you.

the day went by rather quickly compared to the previous days where you were racking your head over the confession. before you bid farewell to chaewon and minju after closing up, you felt the urge to throw those two into a bear hug, and you did.

"what's with the sudden affection? are you going to kill us and take over the shop?"

minju thought you were going through late puberty these days, so she just went with the flow of whatever you did. including squealing like a lovesick high school girl swooning over a hot guy, which wasn't too far from where instead, you were just squealing over how cute hanni looks when she's asleep. (you went over to blooming potion as usual to walk the florist home but was met with a breathtaking sight of her asleep on the counter. therefore you couldn't help but take approximately 100 photos of her before she woke up naturally)

"maybe, who knows?"

and your playful reply earned a smack on your back from chaewon. but you just laughed it off, knowing that she rolled her eyes at your antics.

"okay, I'm not going to kill you but I am going to thank you for always being here for me, like older sisters."

"you guys just know what to say and when to say it, and I just felt like I wanted to thank you for it."

chaewon and minju exchanged glances and soon tears filled their eyes as it was their turns to bring you into a bear hug.

"you're growing up so fast."

"our baby is so mature these days, I feel so sad."

"why the hell are you talking like you raised me or something?"

they actually do treat you like their baby, especially when minju is giving you butt pats and squishing your cheeks right now.

"technically we sort of did throughout university until we graduated, and we're still raising you through your uni days."

"alright moms, I think the affection session has ended, so I will get going."

as you squirm out of their tight grips, they each gave you a ruffle on your hair before they walked hand in hand towards the opposite direction. (those two act more like your parents than your actual ones)

when you turned around, the familiar sight of blooming potion filled your heart with warmth and love. the thought of being this in love with someone would have never crossed your mind even if just a year ago. it's about time you knew, maybe, you don't like her.

maybe, you love her.

"need help with that?"

the soft ring of the bell on the door accompanied with your voice was something hanni could never get tired off. instead, it was more than she can ever ask for to have you by her side every day as you two walked home. all the days throughout spring into summer this year was special to her. (when she turned over to her left, you came into sight, smiling at her, and that's when her day is complete)

"unnie, I'm pretty sure you're shorter than I am."

she whipped her head towards the sound of your voice while she was arranging some stocks on the top shelves. your offended face had her burst out in laughter but thankfully, she was careful enough up there to not drop anything.

"you're lucky I'm in a good mood today, so I'm letting you off the hook."

it's been months since you've met hanni and came over every evening to walk her home. you oh so naturally walked over to the counter to close the cashier, followed with cleaning up the flower remnants on the countertops.

"what put you in a good mood?"

hanni came down from the ladder before walking over to you by the countertops.

"I don't know, I just feel happy and all that. just not in a bad mood, I guess."

you actually didn't know why. perhaps, you woke up on the right side of the bed, the cafe didn't have any nasty customers with complicated orders, and chaewon wasn't roasting your ass for once. maybe all of these combined made you a better day than the rest, which were undeniably good days too. (you had a hunch that something good was going to happen but couldn't pinpoint on what it was exactly)

"then that calls for a celebration!"

seeing the girl being happy on your behalf, although it was something so trivial. it warmed your heart a little, reminded that you have someone who cherishes you more than yourself.

"for my good mood?"

"yup! we can head to town for this really good ramen place, and right opposite it is a bakery I've really wanted to try."

whenever hanni talked about food, especially bread, her face would literally light up. the next thing you know, you'll have her ramble on about what bread she's into right now and what new stores she's discovered. (you found it really adorable, very endearing as all you do whenever she does that is stare and nod because whatever she likes, you will also)

"sounds like you're eager to go more than I do."

you couldn't help but let a chuckle escape your lips as her cheeks are painted with a light shade of pink. her attempt to hide by turning around with her back facing you let you know you were bullseye. (not sure if it's because you two spend so much time together, her ears turn red when she's shy or embarrassed, just like you do)

"alright, let's close up real quick and head over. hope you don't mind my driving."

renting a car definitely wasn't within the budget. it simply amazes you every time when you find yourself doing the unimaginable for the love of your life.

"two bowls of regular pork bone soup ramen, with an agedashi tofu side. thank you."

the place was rather quiet, despite being in the always bustling town. you wonder how hanni had found such a place, and before you could even look over to ask her, it's as if she read your mind.

"actually, an old friend of mine owns this place. she's currently out right now so maybe later, I could introduce you to her."

"I haven't even asked you, yet you just know what goes on in my head."

"perks of spending time together every day? you know how much we talk throughout the walks and those calls."

"well that, I can't deny."

curiosity about this friend of hers occupied your mind, which had you shoot your question.

"who's this old friend by the way? high school acquaintaince?"

"mhm, we reconnected after losing contact with each other at the reunion dinner the other day."

a nod was your only answer, because what else could you have done? imagine being so young and already running a whole shop on your own, you could never. not when you're only a struggling university student. (to be honest, you were slightly jealous of this old friend of hers before coming to know that she was already dating someone)

before you could create the worst scenarios of hanni and her friend in your head, the food arrived quicker than you expected. maybe god was also trying to save you from unnecessary heartache and worry about those two because really, there was absolutely nothing to fret about.

you tried your best to tell yourself that, but you just couldn't shake off that feeling of uncertainty which began eating you up. rather than eating up the bowl of ramen in front of you. even the younger girl felt it in the air around you, constantly eyeing you as you looked troubled, contradicting the very reason why you were here.

"hanni?"

"jen!"

an unfamiliar voice uttering her name had your head shoot up so fast, you almost choked on that piece of meat that you were swallowing. your eyes followed hanni's movements before it stopped upon a figure a lot taller than her. that was when your head short-circuited before it proceeded to run on that energy drink you had earlier.

"why didn't you tell me you were gonna drop by?"

"it isn't a surprise anymore if I just tell you."

their banter seemed so natural that it made you feel a little out of place. but you kept a façade that you believed wasn't too easy to see through, that you were making this stranger who is an acquaintance of hanni, your competition. (as you relived these memories in a very near future, you wished to smash your head into a wall, hoping to get a wake-up call because you were an idiot for even thinking)

but that didn't last long as your date tiptoed to whisper into jen's ears with the latter bending down a little to match their height. you had no right to be fuming but you did, internally and discreetly. (however, that was when you didn't know that hanni had been asking for advice from jen about her extremely obvious crush on an extremely obvious someone. what she whispered was, 'that's the girl I like by the way, so don't do anything stupid')

the two walked back over to your table before jen flashed you an unsettling and mysterious smile that had some meaning behind it, offering her hand along.

"nice to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you from hanni."

"jennifer, or yunjin. if you prefer korean."

her glance over to the said girl earned her a smack before you stood up to accept the handshake politely.

"nice to meet you, yunjin. although she hasn't told me anything about you, I did hear that you own this place."

"yes I do, along with my girlfriend. I hope you like the food so far, they're century-old recipes passed down from my girlfriend's family so I can guarantee it'd be the best ramen you can have in town."

although yunjin was explaining about the restaurant, you blanked out after hearing the word 'girlfriend'. it would have been great if you could just dig up a hole instantly and bury yourself in it cause oh boy, why did you put yourself through so much agony only to find out this rival of yours wasn't even competing with you in the first place. it was as if you were putting up a fight with an inflatable balloon, if that made sense.

"are you okay?"

the concern laced in hanni's voice dragged you out of your daze.

"yeah, I'm fine. sorry about that, just had a little something going in my head. not the best first impression, I know."

"don't worry, we all have those times. I'll take my leave first, I hope you enjoy the rest of your dinner."

as yunjin excused herself to tend to the restaurant, the two of you resumed with your meals. hanni's eyes never left you the entire time which made you a little awkward before malfunctioning altogether. her undivided attention on you made you wary of everything you did, including the way you chewed on your food or how big each bite was. it was making your heart pound a little harder than usual, but the thought of that didn't cross her mind as she was genuinely worried that you might have been uncomfortable with something.

alas, she was put to ease when you started to regain that playful demeanor of yours towards the end of the meal. you also let your guard down a little when hanni gave yunjin and her girlfriend, kazuha, a hug before leaving the restaurant. the two owners were bigger lovebirds than you expected, ultimately letting out that breath you were holding unknowingly. (honey, loosen up because no one's gonna take your girlfriend away from you)

initially, you were to drive back after dinner and drop your date off before heading back to your place. but seeing how there probably won't be another chance like this (a car you meant) with her, here goes nothing.

"would you mind if we headed south to the beach?"

you suggestion was either a hit or miss, and you could tell hanni loved the idea from the way her eyes shimmered a little at the thought of the calming ambience and scent of the sea. (it's been a while since she visited and she had always loved the sea more than mountains. it oddly felt like home, and so did you)

"of course! after all, I'm not the one driving."

she tried to play off her excitement nonchalantly, earning a chuckle from you.

"alright, let's head off then."

"oh, and we can even have those pastries by the beach."

perhaps because it was a weekday, there weren't many people by the beach. and you weren't complaining as that meant peace and quiet from potential screaming children. (you don't despise kids, but sometimes they can really get on your nerves)

you used to come to the beach back in your hometown as a kid with your parents and sister. your mom would enjoy the sun under the parasol while your dad went to fetch some drinks from the nearby store. you and your sister would build sandcastles and occasionally fight over who made a better one. (your dad would usually be the mediator, critiquing both sandcastles as if they were one of his projects)

the visits slowly died down as you grew older and you were convinced that your sister studying overseas contributed to it. but you do agree that the beach visits need not be so often, especially when your parents were getting old. (it was much better when your mom started reconnecting with her school friends and your dad going for golf with his retiree partners, enjoying the personal time they finally have after you moved out too)

"there's a really nice gazebo over there."

hanni pointed over to the lone gazebo sitting in the middle of the sand. it was a really odd place to see one but you did not question further as she pulled you along. (it would have been nice if she gave you more time to grab the box of pastries cause you almost shook up everything in it)

"hanni, slow down! the pastries are gonna get ruined!"

sometimes, you wonder if she loved bread more than she loved you. that does not sound right. hey, as a friend. (but not for long)

"my pastries!"

she came into an instant halt, making you almost squashing your face against her shoulder. the halt was necessary, with you by the gazebo already. it was a lot more cozy than you had expected, still a little chilly from the night breezes but it was just nice.

you knew she was very impatient ever since you had mentioned the beach. from the way her fingers kept fiddling with the hem of her shirt and how she struggled to conceal a wide grin from being plastered across her face.

hanni couldn't even wait for you to take a seat next to her as she opens the box, revealing the pastries that you and her had chosen before having dinner. even after a bowl of ramen, she still had more space for dessert. (you know what they say, people have a second stomach for desserts and hanni was not an exception)

the food you had earlier was finally easing down from potential indigestion. so you decided to watch the way her cheeks are puffed up from being full with pastries, the way her hair fluttered along the wind, and that cream below her mouth. (you found it adorable which had you leave it there for a while before doing something about it)

"you got some cream there."

pointing at your own to show her, hanni's eyes bore into yours as she attempts to wipe it off. she misses by a margin before trying again, and fails to locate it.

the smile on your face never left while she struggled, rummaging your pocket for the packet of tissue you usually carry along with you. pulling a single piece out, you folded it properly before facing her.

suddenly, you felt yourself break down. not emotionally, rather physically. you know when you see something so entrancing and mesmerizing, you just stop doing whatever you did and changed your course of action according to the visual info? yeah, that was your exact response.

the moonlight cascading on hanni's face, how her eyes glisten, as if she was looking at a person she cherishes a lot. perhaps she does cherish you a lot. and the proximity between your faces was a lot to take in (at this very moment, there was only one thing in your mind, and it sounds absolutely amazing)

your hand holding that tissue dropped down as you dived in to kiss the cream off of hanni's skin. it was a quick peck, your upper lip lightly grazing her lower lip as you pulled back to see her frozen. (big doe eyes, stiff body, mouth agape. if someone happened to walk past at that timing, they would've thought she saw a ghost)

you didn't know where that immense courage came from, and you were pretty sure even hanni was taken aback by your bold move. usually, she would be the one giving you cheek kisses for walking her back.

the grin that was already sporting on her face was replaced with a wider one if possible, and a different one at that. something about it told you that she was more than okay with what you had did back there. and maybe, it caused something to click in your head, figuratively and perhaps literally as if a switch had flipped on.

.

.

.

'confess.'

this very thought caused the adrenaline to course through your system, driving you into an overdrive of emotions. feeling that this was the timing to do it, you take a deep breath as you opened your mouth.

"I like you."

did you already say it before you actually thought you were ready? but that didn't sound like your voice. by the time you had snapped back from your questions, you felt a pair of hands cupping your cheeks before pulling you in closer.

everything went by like a flash and before you could comprehend things properly, hanni's lips on yours was the only thing that mattered at that moment. you could feel chills run down your back before leaving a tingling feeling across your whole body, contradicting the warmth that filled your insides. you weren't making any sense with your descriptions but whatever. (it might have been because of the wind but you knew better that it was hardly cold on summer nights)

'so this is how kisses feel like,' as you thought to yourself. the quick peck wasn't quite similar with this. you could feel hanni's feelings in that kiss, as if she was trying to tell you that she had been in love with you ever since she met you. (technically she did, but it was that she took approximately a week after to admit)

the kiss didn't last very long, considering how you practically broke down as your hands not knowing where to go. if anything, you were sure you looked like an absolute idiot in love with the person right in front of you, which was perfectly accurate.

"so.. do you like me too?"

maybe something about kissing hanni had a certain effect on you as you proceed to nod to her affirmative question, totally forgetting how to make up words to answer her. in a simple conclusion, your brain crashed and automatically had 404 error windows popping up, like how it usually does when she gets too close to you.

"gosh why are you so cute."

the compliments didn't help either with your crimson cheeks as they soon spread through your entire face. the sight of you being embarrassed than ever created the urge for her to wrap you in her arms as she coos at you, which she gladly succumbed to.

although you hadn't said much since, the reciprocated hug consisted of a thousand words of reassurance that you felt the same for her, if not more. as you remained still, listening carefully to your heartbeat and breaths slowly matching hers, your heart swelled when you realized that you found someone to love and that someone loves you very dearly too.

"you know, actually."

hanni's voice pierced through your attention on the everlasting moment. she pulled away slightly from the embrace, yet still holding onto you, before gazing into your eyes and saying the words that you didn't know you wanted to hear from the person you have met accidentally in spring, which was your most hated season.

"I love you,"

"and I will for as long as you and I are here."

every moment spent with hanni felt like a dream, even now. countless times, you had felt that you weren't someone who deserves such an angel in your mundane days, but she reassures you that you are someone who's deserving of all the nice things that exists in the world. (which she hates about because you were more than deserving of love and warmth, and she had been ready to be the one who gave those to you for a long time)

your hearty laugh wasn't something she or anyone in particular got to hear often. it was as if you were content with whatever that life was, for the first time. for the first time that you received the love that you had always wanted. and also because hanni stole your confession right out of your hands.

"you know, that was kinda my line, but I'll let it slide because I am in a good mood today."

"but also because it's you. you're my only exception, pham hanni."

"if I can, I'll say it over and over again until you get tired of me."

.

"I love you,"

"like baby's breath and lemon candies."

previous | masterlist | next

iconic

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 SHAMELESS kazuha nakamura x reader

↳ warnings: idol!au, sserafim!reader, fluff

doing press in another country was different, it was interesting to kazuha on how different the interview will go based on the type of interviewer you have, you have the stush ones that ask the most stuck up questions, you have the thoughtful ones that are genuinely interested in learning more about the group, you have the funny ones that know how to ease the tension and then you have the shameless ones, the type that kazuha is encountering right now.

“sorry, yn you’re making me nervous,” the interviewer said to the girl beside kazuha who laughs, “am I?” yn asks making the interviewer giggle like a school girl while kazuha tried her best not to scrunch up her face.

“yeah, you like eye contact im guessing,” the interviewer says as yn nods her head, yunjin budding in saying that she indeed does like eye contact.

“I do,” yn responds leaning back in her seat causing the interviewer to let out another giggle causing kazuha to mentally roll her eyes, the girl was used to witnessing yn’s affects on people, mostly women so she doesn’t know why this one bothered her the most.

“I guess my research told me the truth, you really are here for the visual service.” kazuha couldn’t help but tilt her head at that but sakura nudged her.

“that’s my job,” yn shrugs nonchalantly, fixing the backwards cap on her head and kazuha feels like she’s gonna scream when she hears that giggle again.

“has anybody told you that you’re nose is perfect,” the interviewer says tucking a strand of hair behind her ear her gaze intensely on yn, causing the other members to give each other small looks, mostly at kazuha.

“not as nicely as you, most of the time they ask where I got my alleged nose job done,” the interviewer lets out a laugh at yn’s response.

“you’re so funny,” the interviewer says before bringing her attention to yunjin proceeding the interview, but not without taking peeks at yn every few seconds or letting out that awful giggle every time yn says something.

kazuha’s energy was obviously off as the interview went on and she knew yn could sense it but she just didn’t know what could be bothering the japanese girl.

yn was oblivious like that.

“okay, before this interview finishes yn, im sorry but you are so fine.” the girl says causing all the girls to laugh in shock except kazuha who just forces a smile.

yn flashes her charming smile to interviewer, “it’s the visual service I guess.” she says quoting the girl as the interviewer lets out another giggle before the cameras stop rolling and kazuha is already walking over to their manager to get a sip of her water.

yn talks with yunjin as they walked over to another one of their managers, yn taking her sunglasses from them and putting it on her face.

“is that even necessary?” yunjin laughs while the younger girl adjusts the expensive sunglasses.

“it completes the outfit, I would’ve worn it in the interview but then I would’ve looked baked.” yn says placing one of her wired headphones in her ear, before looking to the side to see kazuha with her face in her phone, “im gonna go talk to zuha,” yn says pointing at the girl while yunjin nods understandingly.

“watching edits of me again?” kazuha looked up from her phone and is met with her girlfriend with her eyes covered in sunglasses, and she can’t help but laugh in her head at the girl wearing sunglasses inside.

“that was one time,” she rolls her eyes as yn grabs her hands and pulls her up from her seat and takes the girls spot, kazuha’s mouth dropped at the action before yn then pulls her to sit in her lap.

kazuha feels her face heat up as yn places her chin on her shoulder before whispering in her ear, “are gonna tell me?”

“tell you what?” kazuha asks back, she feels shivers go down her spine as yn whispers back, “what’s got you so in your feelings?”

oh.

as much as kazuha loves yn, sometimes she feels like the girl could be a perfect bimbo so attractive but so oblivious and dumb sometimes.

“oh, I don’t know maybe it was the interviewer flirting with you like her life depended on it,” kazuha was used to seeing the flirts with yn but this one was just so shameless, she wasn’t even trying to be subtle at all.

yn opens her mouth but kazuha cuts her off, “and don’t play dumb, she was literally about to jump across the table towards you if she could.”

yn just lets out a laugh and wraps her arms around kazuha’s waist pulling the girl closer, “so you’re jealous?” she teases

“what do you think?” kazuha says embarrassed at yn’s teasing tone, “and take off those stupid sunglasses, we’re inside.”

“okay, first of all rude,” yn pinches kazuha’s side causing the girl to squirm, “it doesn’t matter who flirts with me im still gonna be all yours so you have nothing to worry about, right? im still gonna be your smoking hot girlfriend.”

kazuha rolls her eyes and mumbles out a yeah to the point that it’s inaudible, “I didn’t quite catch that, wanna repeat that for me?” yn whispers in her ear, tickling her side

“I said yeah.” kazuha says loudly flinching at yn’s tickling before turning her head around to face yn, “you said you’re my smoking hot girlfriend does that make me yours?”

“it’s that even a question?” yn responds before a look grows on her face and kazuha immediately knows she’s gonna say something dumb so she grabs the chain on yn’s neck and pulls her towards her lips softly kissing her.

yn smiles into the kiss and brings her hand from kazuha’s waist to the back of the girls neck deepening the kiss.

“the car is here,” yunjin interrupts them with a look of disgust on her face.

kazuha looks down in embarrassment and gets up from yn’s lap, pulling the girl up with her who’s the exact opposite of her with zero traces of embarrassment on her face.

“what didn’t say about kissing in front of me, where is your shame?” yunjin says pointing her finger towards the younger couple.

yn let’s put a deep sigh and puts back in her wired headphones in her ear before wrapping an arm around kazuha’s waist and proceeding to walk towards the exit, “you’re just mad you’re alone.”

“hey!”

🥹🥹🥹

ATTENTION 60 — attention (half-written)

the other girls had gone to get ice cream, leaving just you and minji on the sandy beach. the outing was suggested by danielle and somehow you were dragged into it as well. you wiped your clammy hands on the mat below you, leaning your head onto minji’s shoulder. the girl softened at your touch and placed her head onto yours.

slowly, your hand reached for hers, intertwining your fingers together as you watched the sunset. you were sufficiently tired out. hyein had managed to make you chase her around the beach the whole day, draining your energy. even after chasing hyein, you were forced to swim with hanni and danielle, discussing the newest idol drama shows. and after that, you had an intense debate with haerin about dogs and cats. safe to say, you were ready to pass out. minji had brought you to the shore, laying a mat out and bringing fruit juice to you.

“yn unnie, are you sleepy?” minji mumbles. your eyelids fluttered open, eyes crinkling into a smile and nodding.

“yeah, hyein tired me out so much.”

minji scoffs, laughing, “it’s not too late to back out.”

you frown, pinching her arm, “don’t say that, jinnie. i won’t leave you so easily.”

“why won’t you?”

“because i love you, minji. what type of question is that?” you ask, suddenly straightening up. minji winces, sighing and untangling your fingers from hers.

“i treated you like shit, unnie. i still don’t understand why you forgave me. seriously, if i were you, i would have never gave myself a second chance,” minji says, running her fingers through her hair, “i guess, i’m still unsure why you still want me.”

your gaze softens. to be frank, you had no idea why you forgave her either. if it was anyone else that came back begging, you would have gotten a restraining order and more.

“do i need a reason?” minji nods. “because you’re kim minji,” you place a hand on her cheek, caressing it softly, “we all make mistakes, especially since it’s our first. you’ve already apologised, why should i delay my happiness any longer?”

“but… unnie, i admitted to wanting to hurt you.”

you smile, “i know. and i still forgive you, because i’ve had those same thoughts before. when you came to talk things out, i was tempted to make you chase after me. but i don’t gain anything out of that.”

minji still looks unsure, uncertainty filling her eyes as she continues, “how could you have trusted me so easily?”

“can it be called love if there aren’t any risks? i was willing to risk my feelings and security to be with you, minji. in every universe, i’ll do the same. i gave you the benefit of doubt then, to enjoy every day after with you. i have no idea why i forgive you either, maybe it’s because you’re minji. maybe it was fate that brought you back to me. but do the reasons matter, when i have you in my arms again?”

the soft sounds of the waves crashing at the shore fade into the back. there’s no distinct chatter anymore. it’s just you and minji, staring at each other. her hair swirls in the wind, eyebrows furrowed as she takes in your every word. it’s moments like this that you gave up your guard for. you think about all the memories you shared with minji. it was all worth it.

“i can’t say that i’ve given myself to you completely, but just know i’m halfway there. let me be your other half for now,” you whisper, “to complete you.”

minji groans, “you can’t say these type of things. it makes me feel… i don’t know, feelings?”

“i make you feel feelings?” you grin, admiring the blush that slowly spreads across minji’s cheeks.

“yes?”

“that’s good,” you take minji’s hands into yours, “since you make me feel feelings too.”

your girlfriend smiles, one filled with affection. she brings your hands to her lips, placing one single kiss on them.

“i won’t let you regret your choice, ever.”

you feel warmth bubble inside you. your heart feels full. full of love and adoration.

“i’ll never make you feel that way ever again.” another kiss.

“i’ll give you my everything. my love, my patience, my body, soul, my heart. i’ll give you all my attention.” she leaves one more kiss on your hands, staring up at you with hooded eyes. you receive her signal, smirking and pulling her in for minji to place a final kiss on your lips.

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The Law of Attraction (Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 12]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism]

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 2.4k

Taglist: @cassies-cookies @crisle19 @dream-cvtcher @jimincrystal @jksusawife @jk-190811 @khadeeeeej @kooklovee @lalataegi @lallataegi @mukeovernetflix @rispwn @shellyyy177 @smoljimjim @taetaecatbo @user-190811 @whoa-jo @11thenightwemet11

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (Coming Soon)

Series Masterlist

“I think I’ll let you start our conversation today. Whatever you’d like to talk about. I want you to take the reigns.” 

Dr. Moore’s voice was calm and quiet, but it did nothing to soothe the ache in Jimin’s head, and in his heart. He sat in her office chair, like a scolded child, completely embarrassed of his actions. This was a new low, and it was a wake up call when Taehyung held on to him as he stumbled back to the treatment center in the cold rain. Finding the bottom of the bottle didn’t erase his memory of the look on your face. You were so afraid, fear written on every feature of your face, illuminated by the bar’s neon lights, and he did nothing to even attempt to comfort you. Even he was a mess, tripping over himself and slurring his words, you chose to run to Jung Kook and make sure he was ok instead. Jimin knew, in that moment, that he had lost you. He had used up all of your patience, and what he found was his true rock bottom. 

“I don’t know what to do anymore.” Jimin admitted. “I wanted to be sober for Y/N. But, I know she’s not mine anymore. I… I can’t talk about last night. I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t want to talk about it?” Dr. Moore asked, and Jimin nodded his head. 

“I’m afraid.” He said. “I’m scared to tell my father.” 

“Is that your biggest fear right now?” 

Jimin thinks for a moment, and he nods his head. 

“He’s going to be so angry with me, knowing that I lost her. He was very happy about our engagement… Losing her was my biggest fear, but I know there’s nothing I can do about that now.” 

“Why was losing Y/N your biggest fear?” 

“Because,” Jimin started, a bit offended. “She’s the love of my life.” 

“But now that she’s gone… Your fear is placed back on your father.” 

Jimin furrowed his brows and crossed his arms defensively, not understanding her thought process. 

“Please correct me if you think that I’m off base, but have you thought that maybe, you weren’t afraid of Y/N leaving because of the love you have for her, but because if she left, it would mean disappointment from your father?” 

Jimin’s lips parted to protest, but the words were caught in his mouth. He knew that the heart of what Dr. Moore was trying to point out was true. He loved you, undoubtedly, more than he’s ever loved anyone else. But the root of that fear, much like every other fear in his life, is his father’s disappointment. Parks get what they want. But Jimin didn’t get what he wanted, not this time. His father wouldn’t accept that. 

“During our conversations together, Jimin,” Dr. Moore began, leaning in to focus on him. “Something you bring up time and time again, is your fear of your father. It’s an insecurity of displeasing him. It’s what made you angry with your mother’s death, what clings you to Y/N, what began your drinking. You look for ways to escape, or to never be left alone with him. That fear is what we should conquer. Everything else is secondary, and can’t be fixed on their own, without tackling that fear.” 

It clicked. For the first time in Jimin’s life, the puzzle pieces were put into place. He was more terrified, and more heart broken, than he had ever felt in his life, but with it came a new kind of freedom. 

Jimin spoke with her for a few more moments, attempting to articulate those emotions, and Dr. Moore just smiled supportively. As he worked his emotions out verbally, he could begin to untangle the web of connections. He left her office feeling just a bit lighter. The pain of losing you was still burning, fresh and hot in the center of his chest, and the threat of tears was ever present. But being able to lay out exactly what he needed to unravel inside himself, gave him a new pathway to happiness that could be more lasting. He wanted what was best for you, and he knew very clearly now that it wasn’t going to be him. He still had a long, long way to go. 

——————————————————————————————————- 

Jung Kook walked into his apartment after a long day of work, and noticed a sticky note on the kitchen counter. Your handwriting spelled out, “Wanted to go out for a bit. I’ll be back soon! :)” 

He smiled to himself at the little smiley face at the end as he walked towards his bedroom, and changed out of his suit and into something more comfortable. He took the time alone to video call his mother, who he hadn’t been able to speak in length to. 

“Hi, Eomma.” Jung Kook greeted her. 

“Oh, I missed you.” She said with a sad chuckle. “How do you like it there?” 

“I do.” He replied, looking out the window onto the city. “But I do miss home, of course. It’s hard not to.” 

“Home misses you, too.” She said. “But you must be so busy with work, aren't you?” 

“Very much.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Eomma, do you remember… Do you remember Y/N?” 

“The girl you talked so much about?” Jung Kook could practically hear her smile over the phone. “Yes, I remember hearing about her.” 

“You won’t believe what’s happened.” He said, laying back onto his bed. 

As he continued to explain to her everything that’s happened, he was oblivious to your presence in the living room, right outside of his bedroom. You had come home from a solo shopping day, and you placed your bags on the coffee table in front of the sofa. You were excited to show Jung Kook your gift for him, as a thank you for all that he’s done for you. But as you walked towards his bedroom door, and heard him on the phone, you couldn’t help but stop when you overheard what he was saying. 

“She’s the only girl I’ve ever wanted, Eomma.” Jung Kook said. “You know that.” 

“I do.” She smiled sweetly. “I still remember how you came home from Seoul after breaking off your engagement, and you told me you just couldn’t go through with it. You were so upset for hurting her, but you did the right thing by being honest.” 

“I didn’t even think I’d ever see Y/N again.” He admitted. “I just… I couldn’t get married, knowing I had feelings for Y/N. I know those feelings are never going away.” 

You snuck away to your bedroom, with your breath caught in your lungs. You had already known that Jung Kook had left his engagement because of how he felt for you, but hearing him say that those feelings are something that he thinks will never leave, set an indescribable feeling in your chest. Maybe it was just butterflies, or maybe it was a newfound sense of hope, that there was a lasting calm to be found after weathering the storm. You turned your attention to the bouquet of flowers he had given you, somehow still vividly colorful and in bloom by your beside. Red and pinks painted onto the soft petals, somehow still not wilted. It was a reminder that if you take care of something seemingly delicate, it can be strong. 

“Y/N?” Jung Kook asked from the living room, breaking your thoughts. “You home?” 

Home. That word wasn’t lost on you. 

His voice was the same, but it sounded sweeter somehow. It lingered, taking it’s time and resting comfortably in the room. Your feet took over, throwing themselves onto the apartment’s hardwood floor, and rushing over to find him. He stood in the living room, same stars sparkling in his dark eyes that you’ve become so familiar with. You walked over to him, and took him by surprise when you wrapped your arms around him, and rested your head on his chest. His eyes widened, thinking that maybe something else bad had happened, but no tears came. Instead, you just held him, and he rested into your touch, putting his arms around you too. 

“Hi.” He smiled, before placing a kiss to your hair. “Missed you today.” 

“I’m really happy you’re here.” You said, looking up at him without letting go. "Thank you.” 

Jung Kook’s gaze became incredibly soft and gentle. He knew in that instant, that he had become a safe place for you to run to. So, he kept his arms around you, and somehow managed to pull you in closer, before connecting his lips to yours. Every movement was a promise; the smile he felt your lips turn into as he kissed them, the way his hands traced your curves, how your fingers found his hair to pull him in. They were all promises of a better, but undefined future. Jung Kook knew you wouldn’t leave him lonely anymore, and he knew you understood that he was yours. You just had to let him in. 

—————————————————————————————————

A few days passed, and during that time, you worked up the nerve to meet Jimin again. You knew that what you would receive when you met him, was closure. It was the inevitability that you were somehow hoping to avoid. 

Love doesn’t die all at once. It’s an unhurried death, with shallow breaths and the slowing of hearts. And like everything else, no two loves die in exactly the same way, because no two loves are ever the same. You didn’t want to know how your love with Jimin would end, but you knew that in order to start again, this was a step you had to take. 

When you walked in to meet Jimin, as you had done so many times before, you were taken aback. He sat alone, with an aura of peace in his presence that hadn’t been there for as long as you could remember. He looked at you, and he offered a gentle, knowing half-smile. He could feel love’s slow death too, and much like you, he was in the final stage of mourning. Acceptance. 

You sat down in the meeting room, sharing his company on a soft, blue sofa. The air was fragile, and both of you were aware of its unpreventable breaking. Jimin’s knee touched yours, as you sat close together on the edge of the cushions. He wondered silently if that was the last time he would ever touch you. 

“Do you remember,” Jimin spoke up, breaking the silence. “How my mother would watch you whenever you jumped off the diving board into your pool, and then try to convince me to do the same?” 

“Yeah.” You smiled at the memory. “Mrs. Park would always comment to my mother that I was fearless.” 

Jimin laughed with a tinge of sadness, his eyes beginning to water. 

“And there I was, shaking as I climbed the latter.” He said. “She watched me, and when I stood up there, looking back down at her, I was so scared. But Eomma would give me a nod, and a smile, and a thumbs up. It was enough to get me to jump, and once I hit the water… I realized, every time, that I never drown, or sunk to the bottom. I always managed to swim back up.” 

You watched Jimin as he spoke, but his eyes never met yours as he told his story. He looked down at the floor, as though he could visualize the pool below him. Jimin transformed in his mind to that scared kid once again, looking down at his mother, who stood right by the water and knew he could make it. 

“I think she was teaching me, is that I don’t have to be afraid to jump.” Jimin said. “I think she knew that no matter what, I would always find a way to… swim back up again.” 

“I think so, too.” You smiled, and took his hand in yours. His eyes met yours, and your tears matched his. 

“I want to apologize to you, honey.” Jimin said. “For everything. I’m so sorry for hurting you. You never deserved any of it. I know I haven’t acted like it, but when I told you that you’re the love of my life, I meant it. But I also know that I can’t sit here, after everything, and ask you to stay with me.” 

His hand tightened its grip on yours, and tears that had been lining the waterlines of your eyes were now overflowing. Jimin had droplets of his own, and he smiled a sad smile. He knew you were exhausted, and he understood that to love you, in this moment, would be to let you go. 

“I’m going to miss you, angel.” Jimin said, his voice almost a whisper as he committed your features to memory. “I’m sorry. I hope you know that I’ll always love you, no matter what. And if you ever need anything… If you’re ever lonely… I’ll be there.” 

You nod, unable to speak. 

“I love you, too.” You said with a sad smile of your own. “No matter what.” 

Jimin leaned in, and stole one last kiss from your lips. He knew he’d never forget how your lips tasted, or how they felt on his. It was tattooed onto his memory, and had been since the first time he had ever kissed you that night on the beach. 

You never knew that a kiss could hurt until that moment. It felt like a burning in your chest, like your body was screamingatyou that this is what you need. But you knew it wasn’t. Your heart felt like it was being ripped away from you, leaving your body cold and empty. You were truly saying goodbye to your Jiminie, watching your future together crumble and disintegrate with a few words and a kiss. 

When he finally mustered up the power to let go, you reached into your bag, and took out the engagement ring he had given you in front of your families. Jimin watched as you placed it in his hand, and curled his fingers around it. The metal was cold, indicating just how long it had been since it was on your hand. 

Words failed the both of you. There was nothing else to say. So instead, you looked at his delicate features one last time, before slowing rising from the sofa, and exiting the room. Jimin, who wanted so badly to chase after you, couldn’t bring himself to move. So he sat alone, watching you walk away, as he held the ring meant for you in his hand. 

taehyung during dna era for @springdaymv ♡

despite my posting history my favorite of the creation trio is actually the pink one

Talk

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

warnings:  oral sex/face sitting/69, prone bone, dom/sub dynamics (dom!reader/sub!hoshi),  protected sex, impact play (spanking), mentions of butt stuff but nothing explicit

Length: ~ 4.3k

Note: this ended up way longer than i originally planned... by like 2k but im weak for sub hoshi. realized i accidentally made them schmidt and cece from new girl.... oh well. as always thank u @gyuswhore for suffering my horrible punctuation and EVERYONE HAS TO READ HER UP COMING HOSHI FIC FOR PIRATE HOSHI I DEMAND IT

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], YUCK [f]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Soonyoung talks. A lot. 

Sometimes it makes no sense. Like the occasions he calls you after a night out and slurs his words through the speaker as you hum agreement to who knows what until he passes out while still on the line, letting you hear every snore and smack of his lips until you hang up; or when he’s inside you and it's all a bit too much that he has to tell you how good it feels in excruciating detail; or when you both wake up in the morning, you late for work and him trying to talk you into keeping the sheets warm for just a few more minutes, and Soonyoung thinks he’s convinced you but fifteen more minutes really won’t hurt because his apartment is closer to your office anyway.

He talks so much that not hearing his voice the second he opens the door is like a slap in the face.

There's no invitation inside, or lukewarm greeting. The door hangs ajar, Soonyoung already back down the hall in the direction of his room with the expectation you’ll follow. 

You do, but with the same hesitancy you’d approach a wild animal: curious and on edge.

Despite the hour, his roommates aren’t anywhere to be seen. No bodies sprawled across the couch or light under their doors. Their presence never stopped you before but it’s unsettling that there's no buffer of anything to break the storm cloud choking the atmosphere. Just stark exposure to whatever is clearly bothering Soonyoung that he won’t tell you about because, technically, you two don’t do that. Or, he does and you vehemently refuse all of it with less and less authenticity each time.

Soonyoung doesn’t prattle on about his day or ask about yours as you trail behind him. He throws off his shirt without a word, collapses on the edge of the mattress, and roughly pulls you into his lap. It’s cold and unfeeling and exactly the kind of sex you’d enthusiastically participate in a year ago. But nothing like the Soonyoung you’ve grown familiar with over the past few months.

He doesn’t comment on the low cut of your top, falling into the motions without the usual banter. 

You wiggle free from his grasp, trying to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He doesn’t look at you before taking back up where he left off.

“Stop.” You push him back, trying to get a look at his face but he stays in the crook of your neck. “Stop.”

The silence that follows is loud. He collapses back into the bed, arms curling up to hide away from whatever is chasing him.

“I said I’m fine,” he mumbles.

“Could've fooled me,” you huff.

“Doesn’t matter. Not what you come here for anyway, right?”

A half truth that stings more than you’d like. It sinks in your gut in the quiet dark of his room.

“You know what? Forget I asked, I’m leaving.”

“Wait,” he says, arms attempting to snake around your waist but you’re already up.

“No. You don’t need to be an asshole when I’m just trying to be nice.”

“Because you’re sunshine and rainbows all the time?”

“Did I fucking say I was? If you’ve got a problem with it you’ve had long enough to lose my number.”

“I’m sorry, I just…” he sighs heavily. “Bad day.”

You soften at the break in his voice. Stepping back over, you stand between his legs. He looks small, hunched over with his head in his hands and the weight of the world on his shoulders. The light you’ve come to associate with having him within reach is gone and all that's left is a man you don’t really recognize. He buries his face in the warmth of your stomach, and goes limp as you run a hand across his shoulders.

“Do—” you clear your throat. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Because if Soonyoung is talking there's less chances for you to open your mouth and screw it all up. You don’t know how to be doughy and tender with the same level of ease he possesses. You’ll probably fail trying but it's the least you can do.

It’s uncharted territory; for you, for this, whatever this is because it doesn’t really resemble anything you’ve done before even though the foundation is the same. Because you care about Soonyoung, and he obviously cares about you. But you’re not sure how to let him and even less sure how to return it.

“No.” 

“Okay,” you say, at a loss for what comes next.

Inactivity breeds restlessness. Without any idea how to do this on your own, you default to the steps he took when you were half cooked on your bathroom floor.

Soonyoung eyes you with questions but doesn’t speak as you drag him into the en suite. Bites his tongue as you work off your clothes under the sterile overhead light and then move to work on his; raising his arms when you poke him and managing his pants on his own. He even smiles, or his mouth twitches in a vague allusion to a grin, when you flick water at him after guaranteeing the temperature won’t give you both pneumonia.

Finally tucked behind the shower curtain, he stands dumbly. Not another move to help, content to watch you wash his hair, nails raking over his scalp until he shivers. 

You ignore the prod at your thigh. Focused on letting the warmth of the water do the heavy lifting, you soak a washcloth in soap and lather his skin until it tinges pink. A shampoo mohawk earns a kiss dusted along your shoulders and you might even blush a bit if you weren’t so focused on perfecting the spikes so he looks like one of those 90s alternative poster boys.

Out of the shower, his vow of silence continues. Everything he isn’t saying is clear in his eyes, especially when you slather his face in one of those mud masks, painting him bright green. He’s less intimidating with chunks of clay in his eyebrows.

He isn’t accommodating but he also doesn’t outright refuse which seems to be the best you’re going to get. 

“You look like Shrek,” you snort, satisfied and turning towards the mirror to cover your own face in a matching shade.  

“Well then you're Fiona.” His head comes over your shoulder, chin digging into bare skin to watch you in the mirror. His chest is sticky against your back from steam but you don’t mind if it means he’ll talk to you.

“Actually,” you think, wiggling to face him. “I think you’re more like Donkey.” 

“The dragon fits you better anyway.”

“Are you calling me scary?” you gasp.

“Yes.”

“Good. Remember that next time you want me to suck on your balls.”

He winces. “I can feel them retreating into my body already.”

“Don’t make me laugh, it’ll mess up the mask.”

Without a care for the still drying mess of his face, he takes refuge back in his favorite place. Tucked under your chin, he sighs.

“I’m sorry I was a dick earlier. Work sucked today. I didn’t get a contract I wanted, they picked some other kid at the studio for it. I’ve taught him for years and they picked him over me.”

“I’m sorry.” You placate him with a gentle hand up his back, nails tracing loose patterns as the fan hums over head.

“Not your fault.”

“No, but it still sucks.”

“Yeah.” He nuzzles closer, arms heavy around your waist like you’d even think to move away. “It’ll be fine though. He’s a good kid and I couldn’t be mad at him. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Fifteen minutes later, you both wash away the flakes of clay, cracked around the corners of your eyes and mouths, and retreat back under the covers in one set of pajamas split between: you in one of his shirts with nothing underneath, and him in sweatpants with nothing on top. 

Soonyoung insists that Pirates of the Caribbean is his comfort movie, something about Kiera Knightly with a gun being his sexual awakening (which explains a lot), and you let him put it on the tiny screen of his laptop with plans to fall asleep in the first five minutes.

His lips are at your temple, a dull pressure that makes your blood hum. “I always wanted to be a pirate growing up.”

“Really?” you ask, edging towards unconsciousness from the lazy drag of his fingers on your hip.

“Yeah,” he agrees, eyes glued to the screen. “Have my own ship, no rules, a bunch of sexy wenches.”

“Half naked women with scurvy were a part of your career plan?”

“Okay, maybe I added those just now but my point stands.”

The picture of Soonyoung with a scar on his chest and one of those ruffled linen shirts straight off the cover of a dime novel some grandma would read on the train with no shame isn’t that bad. Actually, it’s pretty sexy. But you won’t feed his delusions.

“What point?”

He rolls on top of you, face open with grave seriousness. “We should role play. Me as the hot pirate captain, you as the beautiful princess. Forbidden love, enemies type stuff. You run away from being royal and end up joining my crew. Oh no, Captain Hoshi, I had no idea this was your room! What an impressive sword!” he squeals in a breathy mock of you.

“And then,” you gasp. “you come in five minutes and I convince everyone to throw you overboard?”

“Hurtful. But I’m willing to forgive you if you call me captain. Just once.”

He’s close enough to kiss, lips pouted as he waits for you to give into his demand. A gentle peck bordering on domestic makes him sigh, the taste of toothpaste lingering on his breath. Just as you think you’ve distracted him away from such an ridiculous idea, he leans back with a gleam in his eye that says he’ll wait all night if you make him.

“How about we roleplay falling going to bed?” you sigh, eyes closed against his expectant gaze.

“Nope, too late. I’m thinking about you wearing nothing but a pirate hat and now I’m hard.”

He curls right into the meat of your thigh, hot and ready to go if you give the word. Sleep is tempting but the thought of a quick tumble wakes you up enough to entertain him. 

“Alright, but you’re doing all the work,” you sigh. “Take off my clothes, captain.”

Pausing to let the idea settle, he shakes his head. “That’s actually not as hot as I thought it would be.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you fuff. “I’m watching the movie.”

You try to shove him away with zero intent to actually let him go anywhere and end up pinned, fingers in a tight grip around your wrists that you pretend to fight against. Soonyoung knows you like to be reminded of his strength on occasion; whether thats fucking your mouth until your throat burns or bending you over. This potentially being one since he’s had a hard day and you’re hungover from making him feel better about it. 

He tongues across your pulse until you go pliant against the pillows, legs spread to cradle his hips. A shuffle of clothes and a lift of your hips and he’d be inside you. There's more steps; a condom, a little fingering because his dick was made to stretch your limits. Your legs shake already, desperate for quick fuck so you can passout while Soonyoung cleans you up. 

But his new mood means he’s making up for lost time. Presently, that's bunching your shirt up to your chin and tracing each inch of newly uncovered skin with his tongue.

“Hellooooo ladies,” he sighs, nose buried between your breasts.

“God, you’re lame.”

“Be nice to me, I had a hard day,” he pouts, releasing your hands in favor of plucking at your chest until you sigh in delight.

“I’m literally letting you—hmmm— see my boobs after you said that corny shit. How much nicer can I be?”

He doesn’t answer, choosing to coax a low groan out of your chest with passes of his mouth until you're kicking the sheets. The good kind of sting that ruts your hips against his thigh and makes you dizzy. There will be a permanent wet patch if he doesn’t give you relief soon.

“I have a few ideas.”

“Like what?” You twitch at the thoughts running rampant. Short of donning that pirate hat mentioned earlier, anything he suggests is guaranteed to make you feel better too. 

“Can show you better than I can tell you,” he bites into your nipple, sucking it to a stiff peak for his fingers to pinch before shifting focus to the other. 

“If you try and put your dick in my ass I’ll rip it off.” The words are breathy off your lips. No real threat because he might be able to talk you into the idea if you let him. If he keeps pulling your strings the way he’s learned how. 

But Soonyoung has different ideas, pulling off your nipple with a rough suck, curling your shoulders in. “That was one time and it was an accident!”

“Let me slip a finger in next time I blow you and tell me how you like it.”

“You have and I do. Keep talking about it and I’m gonna need another shower.”

“God, you’re a freak.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He takes the initiative to roll you on top, palms massaging your ass while enjoying the view of you naked in his lap. 

A sudden moment of vulnerability roots in your chest, warmed by the set of brown eyes peering up at you. “You know I don’t just come here for this, right?” 

Soonyoung’s eyebrows twist for a moment and then soften. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, not ready for anything deeper. The air is already thicker with the weight of that confession, suffocating. In an effort not to drown in it, you drop your chest flat to his, latching onto the jut of his collarbone. “Is this your big idea? Me on top? Not very original.”

A hand at your ass drags you along his covered cock, already begging for attention. It’s not original but you’ll dry hump him into the mattress until your bones are jelly if he wants. 

“Sit on my face.”

It’s your turn to pull back. “What?”

“Sit. On. My. Face.” His hand is already firm against your thighs, forcing you halfway up his chest before you can argue.

“I heard you the first time, just confused how that's supposed to make you feel better.”

“You underestimate the power of your pussy. Now get up here.” 

The shuffle up is less than sexy. Soonyoung is eager from your permission, rushing you up to his mouth until you nearly knee him in the head.

“Wait,” you say. 

Soonyoung locks his arms as you move off him, reflexive because he lets go a second later. Turning, you eye the tent in his pants as you kneel back down. Perfect position to touch him while he touches you.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fingers tracing through your wetness despite the horrible angle.

You don’t get a chance to orient yourself. He’s already quick to work with teasing passes of his tongue that turn bolder every second. 

“Jesus Christ, give me a second to get your dick out.”

But he doesn’t; too consumed with tasting all you have to offer, wringing you out to dry the second he gets a chance. The flat of his tongue laps up your arousal like it’s more vital than oxygen. There's a wet mess smeared between your thighs from the vigor. 

It takes all your focus to force down his pants, mouth watering at the shiny head of his cock straining from some heavy petting. You keep steady with one hand, jerking him off into your mouth with the other. Soonyoung malfunctions between your thighs as you swallow his cock, a moan right to your clit makes you fumble that last inch into your mouth.

He chokes you with a buck up but you take it in stride. Sucking harder, lashing against the slit until he whimpers. Normally, you’d exaggerate the wet noises at the back of your throat but with the crude dig of his tongue in your entrance there's no need. 

“God,” you warble into his crotch. You arch back into his face, Soonyoung’s fingers digging into the meat of your ass, spreading you out like a full course meal.

In theory it’s hot. Your cunt on his face and his cock in your throat, rutting against each other until you're numb and twitching and covered in each other's mess. In practicality, there is nothing Soonyoung is more relentlessly dedicated to than eating you out until your vision turns white and you have to force him away or risk passing out. It only takes a few minutes before you’re forced to tap out, panting into his thigh and weakly fisting his length with no regard for the mess sticking between your knuckles, as he fucks you along his tongue.

“Gonna come, oh–fuck,” you choke. You want him to come too, in your mouth, on your face if that's what he wants. But by some glitch in the universe, Soonyoung is able to hold back and you’re the one racing to the finish first. “Oh my god, Soonyoung, fuck.”

You jerk him off, grip tight despite the slick mess of spit and pre-cum. It doesn’t help that ever squeeze at the swollen head sends a moan straight into your clit, forcing you hips to rut desperately. 

“Don’t stop. Just, shit – need a little more—”

You pull one his hands away to take over your short strokes, spitting into his palm and squeezing until he figures out what you want; to watch him touch himself while eating you out. The contrast of his fingers tangled between your own, both glistening because Soonyoung is just as close as you are, gets you there.

“Close.” Thighs locked, you suffocate him but Soonyoung doesn’t complain. A palm at the base of your spine forces you down when you shy away from the edge. “Oh, oh, oh!”

A sting of your nails into his thigh is all the warning either of you get. Back arched tight, eyes clenched, you shudder through it. Soonyoung doesn’t stop, sucking away the fresh wave of arousal, tongue verging on punishing against your clit as you sink.

“Okay, that's enough—god,” your voice breaks. “Enough.”

You fall to the side, face first into the covers without effort to soften the blow. The lower half of your body is numb but you can feel his hand skating up the back of your calf.

“Good?” he asks, all too aware of the issue; the smirk is clear in his tone, happy to see you strung out from a few minutes on his mouth.

“Shut up,” you warn but the bite isn’t in it. The urge to kick him in the head is there but none of the energy. 

“Are you tapping out on me or…?” 

The sound of the drawer pauses in case you say no but the idea of not feeling him inside you sounds like the worst thing you’ve ever heard.

“You’re not that good,” you mumble into the blanket. “Fuck me like this, you promised you’d do all the work. Remember?”

“Like this?” he hums, rubbing the head of his cock back through the mess with admiration. 

He obeys with a wet kiss to your shoulder, parting your legs and sliding between without a word. You soak in the stretch, ass arched into his hips to take it all. The cold bites down your back when Soonyoung leans back to watch.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he whines. “Shit.” 

He drives into you with a bruising pace, betrayed by his own need to come after having you on his mouth without a tease of relief. You arch into it, the head of his cock dragging deep inside pushing disgusting noises from your lips you pray his roommates aren’t around to hear.

“Spank me.”

He loses it for a second. A rough thrust pushing you down the bed and he scrambles to follow. “Seriously?” 

“Do it,” you bark. 

The first strike is weak. More of a firm caress than the sting you crave; hesitant to push for too much too fast lest you take away any privilege he has.

“Harder.”

The next impact comes hard enough to burn an outline of his hand. And another one that makes your tongue feel too big for your own mouth.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” you whine. “More.”

Arms pinned beneath your torso, all you can do is lay there and take it. Nerves gone, he spanks you like it’s second nature. Like he’s thought about it before.

“Good?” he asks. Sounds more like a beg for validation. That he’s the one driving you crazy, molding your insides to his cock until it’s all you can think about.

“So good, f–fuck me so good.”

“Yeah?” he breathes against your neck, a hand wedging beneath your hips to drag against your clit in messy strokes. “You’re so hot, fuck.”

There will be a bruise to hide come morning but you can’t care. The slap of his hips against your ass, the flame of his hand still lingering on your ass, his cock drilling your insides; there's no room for anything but Soonyoung, Soonyoung, Soonyoung.

You arch your back to feel him deeper only to have him pull out completely on the next stroke.

“No!” you protest, racing to keep him inside. 

It’s no use, Soonyoung flips you on your back before you can convince him otherwise. He hooks your knees over his elbows, spreading you wide and driving home in one smooth push with his teeth at your neck.

“Gonna come,” he begs, voice weak. You know his game, what makes him tick and come so hard he goes blind.

“Not yet,” you warn. A rough twist in his hair only works against his thinning resolve and that's exactly why you pull harder until his hips kick into a jilted rhythm.

“I can’t – please – I can’t—”

“Not yet,” you gasp. He’s deep, right in the back of your throat making you foggy. “Be a g–good boy and wait until I tell you.”

Hips frantic, voice cracking, he tries to hold off; knows it's better when you tell him exactly what to do. Makes him choke into your chest.“Fuck, fuck!” 

“Tell me how bad you want it. How much you love this pussy.”

“Love it, love your pussy.” He folds in half on top of you, desperate. Every drive of his cock into your center forcing your own desperate noises out. “Please let me come for you.”

“Look at me,” you demand. The command in your voice is paper thin but you're both too lost. His eyes are glassy, frantic to do whatever you ask if it means he can come. “Beg for it.”

“P–please,” he whimpers through gritted teeth. “Please let me come. Need it, wanna come. Please. Please!”

He’s too good to edge. Perfectly pliant to any demand and it makes you want to give him whatever he wants. “Give it to me. Fuck me through it. Let me feel you come for me.”

He latches onto your breast, sucking your nipple as his hips turn sloppy. You won’t come again but you don’t need to. Satiated with the choked whimpers of your name as he swells against your walls, forcing himself as deep as possible like he’s fucking you raw and full of his cum.

Maybe someday you’ll let him.

Your hips are sore from being forced in half so long but you won’t move away until Soonyoung comes back down. Less from your own will power, more because you’re running on fumes and might fall asleep with him still inside you. He gives a few more pathetic twitches and then goes slack.

“Oh my god,” he groans. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Welcome to the club,” 

With the grand finale complete, your aching muscles give out completely. You can’t even laugh when one of his hands moves to check your pulse.

“Oh my god,” Soonyoung gasps. “I killed you with my dick.”

“You didn’t kill me.” Your skin is sticky with sweat in the worst places but it’s a problem for later.

“A man can dream,” he says wistfully.

“Of homicide by cock?”

“Of dick game strong enough to murder someone.”

He rubs his nose along yours, breathes mingling in a lazy kiss as exhaustion creeps over your both. 

“Your face smells like pussy.” You slouch into the mattress, deadweight while taking all of his like the perfect blanket.

He kisses you again, tongue teasing at your lips until you give the very real threat of teeth against it and he backs away. “Your mouth tastes like cock so I guess we’re even. C'mon we need to shower again.”

“Nooooooo,” you grumble, clinging to him in an effort to delay the chill waiting to invade between you.

“At least let me get a rag.”

Your legs tighten around his waist, locked at the ankle for dramatic effect. “If you pull out I’ll cry.”

“Words every man wants to hear,” he hums into your cheek with a kiss. “But my dick is sore and we both smell.”

“Fine.”

When he pulls away you feel empty; devastatingly so. But you don’t ask him to comeback. Just pout at the loss and revel in placating pampering you receive in return.

He goes through the steps with familiarity. Wiping away the mess between your legs, tossing your shirt back up from the floor but you forgo it, choosing to sleep naked much to Soonyoung’s delight.

You use his chest as a pillow, curled into his side and tucked under his chin. The steady beat of his heart lulls you off. The last thing you register, on the hazy perimeter at the edge of sleep, is his fingers at your cheek and the ghost of a kiss on your forehead.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

@seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @gyuwoosbabie @dinossaurz

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD, I CAN'T EXPRESS IT IN WORDS OMGGG. I LITERALLY CAN'T BRING JUSTICE TO JUST HOW GOOD YOUR WORKS ARE

ateez as mafia members who fall for you

genre: mafia!ateez x gn!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, an absolute brainrot-fest of every mafia trope to exist

length: 14.7k

c/w: illegal acts (abduction, murder, physical/sexual abuse, trafficking, financial crimes, underage working, underground casinos/boxing rings), suggestive/nsfw scenes, explicit language (swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, smoking, drugs, alcohol, backgrounds of trauma (death of parents), pet names (kitten, babe, love, sweetheart)

a/n: scenarios involve lots of heavy and mature themes - please read through the tags carefully and mdni! if i disappear from tumblr after this, it’s probably safe to say that i got arrested for my search history. couldn’t have written this without @sorryimananti-romantic, so i guess i’ll be seeing you in jail soon yumi 😘🫶

hongjoong

pov: you're dating a mafia leader

dating a mafia boss has its perks, you suppose

for one, there’s the money

“you like that, kitten?” hongjoong asks when he notices your gaze flitter over the blue diamond pendant for a brief second longer than usual

“no, babe. just thought it might look pretty with those earrings you gave me the other day”

he steals a kiss from you before he hands his card over to seonghwa. “buy one in every design”

then there’s the power

you smile smugly as you feel hongjoong’s arm snake around your waist, hand bringing you a little closer into his side as if to gloat at the meeting that you are his and his only

you know better though. behind closed doors, he’s your trophy

and then there’s the love

“let me hear you, kitten. loud enough that everyone can hear you,” hongjoong pants against your neck

“guess you’re just not fucking me hard enough,” you tease

that night, he makes you orgasm eight times - once for every word in that sentence

but as with anything, dating a mafia boss also has its downsides

like the ignorant and simple-minded gangsters who catch a whiff of the ‘mob boss’ lover’ and immediately think that you are the weak link in the chain - that if you are in their hands, hongjoong will promptly come crawling

so really, it comes to no surprise when you wake up to a throbbing head, with your hands bound behind your back and feet tied to the legs of the chair you’re sitting on

you roll your shoulders back a little, stretching the ache in your neck 

from the way your muscles tense and cramp, you must have been out for a couple hours by now

hm, shouldn’t be long now.

“looks like the bitch is awake”

ten.

your eyes lazily look over to your right, towards the source of the sound, raising an unimpressed eyebrow when you lock eyes with the leader of the bluebirds, kyungtae, surrounded by several of his men

the bluebirds are a small mafia gang who have tried several times to stir up trouble in the neighbouring territories

what gives them the confidence to provoke ateez this time, you’re not quite sure, but you know that they have just voluntarily placed their heads under the guillotine

giving kyungtae a once-over from where you’re seated, you spare him no further interest and look away, which does not stroke the man’s ego in the way that he is coveting you to

kyungtae stalks over to you, grabbing a fistful of your hair to force your head up

“look at me when i’m talking to you”

you grace him with no response, merely blinking once, twice

eight.

obviously having expected you to whimper and weep and beg for mercy, your passiveness to the situation, to his presence, to him, has kyungtae’s ears burning red

it doesn’t help when one of the men behind him, with a leg propped up onto the table nearby, lets out a poorly-disguised snicker

it’s quite pathetic, really, how you feel kyungtae’s grip in your hair immediately tighten in response to the sound, and you can’t quite help but let out a snicker of your own

kyungtae’s eyes widen with fury as he spits out curses in your face

five.

he releases his hold of your hair, only to roughly grasp the front of your shirt. “you little fucker, you’re lucky i haven’t killed you yet. just you wait until your little boyfriend arrives, and then i’ll put on a good show for him.”

kyungtae gives you a greasy look, running a finger along your jaw

“and maybe if you beg prettily enough, i’ll think about sparing your life and making you my whore”

three.

he laughs as he steps back, pleased with his threats, too caught up in his own fantasy to notice the quirk of your lip

walking back over to the table, he picks up a bottle of hennessy and takes a swig straight from the neck

two.

you watch with amused interest as one of his lackeys suddenly bursts through the doors of the warehouse, giving you a quick glance before hurrying over to kyungtae’s side and bringing a hand up to hide their whispered conversation

you catch the brief flash of shock across kyungtae’s face, before he’s attempting to school his face back into a neutral expression

one.

sinking back a little further in your chair, you run your tongue over your teeth as you cock your head and smirk at him, declaring your first words of the night-

“time’s up.”

and right on cue, a loud bang fires off, everyone flinching save for you

the underling who had delivered the news just seconds ago crumples to the floor, blood beginning to seep out from the clean hole that goes right through their forehead

another three shots ring out in rapid succession, bluebird members dropping to the ground one after the other like a sick, synchronised dance

the warehouse doors behind you and on the far right cave in on themselves as you hear the hoots and hollers of ateez making an entrance

you watch leisurely as your men easily pick off the bluebird members, who begin to litter the floor of the warehouse like dead flies

the bluebirds never stood a chance - not against your gang, and definitely not against hongjoong

speak of the devil

you sense him before you hear him, his strong, dark, yet comforting aura approaching you from behind as he brings his mouth down to nip at your ear lightly

“sorry i’m a little late, kitten”

you sink into the chaste kisses he presses against the nape of your neck and just between the junction of your ear and shoulder as he loosens the ropes around your hands

when hongjoong comes around to crouch in front of you, working to untie your feet as well, you run your fingers through his blonde mullet appreciatively

“i knew you’d come,” you hum nonchalantly

hongjoong removes the last of the ropes from around your legs, standing up to tower over you as he places a hand on the back of your chair and leans his face down closer to yours

“oh? cocky, are we?”

you smile coyly at him. “my boyfriend is a mafia boss, i think i’m allowed to be a little cocky”

hongjoong’s eyes darken with lust, and whilst his hands are gentle in capturing your jaw, his lips crashing against yours are anything but

the sound of a body being dragged across the ground has you sighing into the kiss, breaking it so that you can let hongjoong deal with the interruption

san releases his grip on the scruff of kyungtae’s shirt none too gently, dropping the man to the floor, before scoffing briefly at the sight of the man below him

out of the corner of your eye, you spot wooyoung and yeosang leaning casually against the wooden crates bordering the sides of the warehouse as they watch the moment unfold

you can hear the slow, arrogant footsteps of jongho and seonghwa as they come up to stand behind you and hongjoong, steadfast additions to the threatening ambience that is now thickening and settling around the warehouse

you can’t see him, but you know that yunho is also here, somewhere with a high vantage point, crosshairs of his sniper trained on kyungtae’s forehead, ready to end his life if need be

kyungtae scrambles to his knees in front of hongjoong, rubbing his open hands together as he looks up pathetically, then presses his face against the floor and grasps at hongjoong’s polished dress shoes, repeating the two motions like a bowing wind-up toy 

“fuck, i’m sorry, i’m so, so sorry. please, have mercy on me. fuck, i’ll do anything. please don’t kill me,” kyungtae cries in desperation as he grovels

you look at your fingernails, noting how the polish is starting to chip away

you idly wonder what colour you want hongjoong to paint your nails this weekend

hongjoong snarls dangerously, “that’s not what you were saying when you called my kitten a whore.” and then he drops the bomb-

“i don’t know what made you think you were worthy to touch, much less even look at our boss.”

kyungtae’s eyes widen at that, flickering between you and hongjoong as he stutters, “w-what? but you- you’re…the boss is-”

you finally take pity on him, uncrossing your legs daintily only to inch forward in your seat and plant both feet down firmly, right on top of his hands

you run a hand through kyungtae’s hair with mock tenderness, giving him a saccharine smile. “i don’t think anyone has ever discovered how hongjoong and i met…i think it’s only fitting that you’re the first to find out, since, you know, you wanted to put on a good show for him”

and so you tell kyungtae.

you’re a famous grey hat - you infiltrate security systems regardless of permission and whether your methods violate the laws or not, and have earned yourself the nickname of ‘the greyhound’

in some instances, you offer to disclose the security vulnerability and its solutions for a…small price

in other instances, you use the breach to take down organisations, operation rings, and dark web websites that exploit others in ways that don’t sit right with you

and then there’s the instances where you hack for neither of those reasons - such as the one where you discover ateez

or more specifically - hongjoong

the mafia boss has an irritatingly handsome face, and you want to see what it would look like marred with anger

so you infiltrate ateez’s cyber system, just to show that you can, redirecting all of their security feed and replacing it with a live stream of your beloved pot plant

when hongjoong discovers that you are the infamous greyhound, and has quite literally messed with his gang’s cybersecurity just for the shits and giggles, he finds his interest piqued

you accept his proposal to take over ateez’s data, information and communication security - a role that puts you almost on par with hongjoong in terms of importance

and just a month later, he accepts your proposal to be your boyfriend - a decision that solidifies your presence at the top of the hierarchy in terms of authority

if hongjoong is the mob boss operating as the face of ateez, then you are the mob boss operating as the shadow of ateez

you finally rise.

standing up from your chair, you knock kyungtae over onto his back and place a foot on his chest

“so when you thought that i would be an easy target, that i could be used as bait, it was really me that you should have been scared of, all along.”

you slowly curl your fingers around the handle of the gun that hongjoong has held out for you, index finger finding its familiar position on the trigger

as you level the barrel of the gun with kyungtae’s head, his mouth opening and closing with words that don’t reach your ears, hongjoong pressing his face into your neck so that he can suckle blossoms onto your skin, you think to yourself that when it’s a mafia boss dating a mafia boss, there are no downsides

you pull the trigger

seonghwa

pov: you're discovered captive during one of his missions

ateez had recently been tipped off about a ledger, with countless records of illegal transactions that would be able to implicate several officials and ministers in high positions of tax fraud, embezzlement and in some cases, prostitution

which is why seonghwa is currently creeping through the house of minister seo - the alleged location of the ledger - wooyoung having disabled the house’s security system and created a commotion distracting enough for seonghwa and a few other members of ateez to comb through the rooms for the ledger

they make quick and efficient work, a feat considering wooyoung’s last words of advice were to ‘get the fuck in, get the fucking documents, then get the fuck out’

it has probably only been twenty minutes before seonghwa’s earpiece sputters to life with hongjoong’s voice alerting him that the others have found the ledger already

“have a quick scan for anything else that might be important, and then haul ass out of there. you guys don’t have much longer”

there doesn’t seem to be much apart from the usual things he would expect to find in a house, until a door strategically placed in the far corner of the room, partially tucked behind a shelf of abstract sculptures, catches his eye

there’s a thick slide lock that keeps it shut from the outside, and he grips his glock a little tighter as he treads closer

he can see the wear on the lock’s metal surface now that he’s right at the door, indicating that it must be opened and closed quite frequently

slowly easing the lock open, he swings the door open with his gun positioned in front of his body

for a brief moment he’s not sure what his eyes are seeing - the room is dim, illuminated only by a small window on the left wall and the light now coming from the open door

as his eyes adjust, trepidation turns to confusion as he spots a few stray items scattered on the ground of the small room. a tattered piece of cloth. a metal bowl. a rusted chain

there’s a musty smell that hints to seonghwa the room is not well-cared for, if at all

and that’s when he takes an involuntary breath

because at the end of the chain, connected to a ring screwed into the wall itself, is-

your eyes focus on the sight of an unfamiliar man

it’s hard to make out the details of his face, but you’ve seen your captor enough times to be able to tell him apart from his stature and build alone

you wonder if you’re being sold to this man, having been reminded repeatedly by minister seo that he can do as he wishes to you

approaching you with slow, deliberate movements, seonghwa can now see the grime across your face and clothes, the way your hair is matted together, the scarred redness of your ankle rubbed raw from the shackle around it

“i’m not going to hurt you. i’m just going to see if i can get this off you, okay?”

seeing as you don’t make a move or noise of protest, seonghwa crouches down in front of you, where you have drawn your legs towards your body, hugging them towards your chest

the chains could probably be broken off with the right tools - tools that were back at base and not on him right now

unless

“i can’t break the shackle right now, but i can shoot through the chain first so we can escape”

he sees you perk up almost immediately at his last word, and he thinks that if you were an animal, your tail would be wagging by now

almost as fast as it came over you, however, you deflate with a perplexed, “why are you helping me?”

he looks at you with kind eyes, eyes so round and large you think you can see the twinkle of galaxies within them

“if i am able to help, what further reason do i need?”

hongjoong’s voice suddenly interrupts, a little frantic

“change of plans, you guys need to get out now. they have reinforcement coming soon”

seonghwa addresses hongjoong, “two minutes. wait for me”

“park fucking seonghwa if you don’t get out of there right now-”

he tugs the earpiece out of his ear

hongjoong can shoot him later if he wants to, except he won’t because seonghwa is his right-hand man

looking at you again, voice significantly gentler, he tells you to cover your ears

even though you’re expecting it, you still flinch at the sound of the gun going off as the chain breaks into two

“you did well, love. now let’s go”

if the pet name doesn’t send your stomach into somersaults, the encouraging smile that he gives you afterwards certainly does

he makes his way back to their assigned meeting point, with you cradled protectively in his arms against his chest, after you both quickly discover that you walking out of there is not going to be a feasible option

wooyoung does a triple-take from the driver’s seat when he sees seonghwa appear, but there is no time for questions, his foot revving the engine as soon as seonghwa has carefully lowered you onto the backseat of the car

you shrink back a little in your seat and closer towards seonghwa, who has kept one of his arms around you, when you meet wooyoung’s eyes in the rearview mirror

“boss ain’t going to be happy”

which is the understatement of the century - hongjoong is furious

but he understands seonghwa, because should it have been him in the situation, the outcome would also have been the same

you stay in seonghwa’s apartment, and although he isn’t home a lot of the times, the times that he is makes up indefinitely for the times that he isn’t

you find yourself looking forward to when he comes home, sometimes falling asleep on the couch before you can wait it out, yet still smiling in the morning despite waking up to an empty apartment, because you find yourself in his bed, warmly tucked into a cocoon of blankets

seonghwa finds himself looking forward to going home. where his apartment before seemed cold and lonely, void of the laughter and warmth he feels around ateez, he is now becoming accustomed to hearing the light pitter patter of your socked feet against the ground as you run to shyly peer out at him from around the corner of his hallway, waiting to welcome him home

you find that cooking together becomes one of your favourite pastimes. you pelter him with questions, like what do you call this, hwa? and how do you use this, hwa? just because you enjoy spending time with him and listening to the deep timbre of his voice that sends pleasant shivers throughout your body

seonghwa finds himself cooking more. where he would usually order takeout or forego a meal altogether, he now tries new recipes with you just so he can see the innocence and curiosity your eyes hold as you sing out hwa? after hwa? after hwa?. he loves the way you fit against his chest as he holds your hands to show you how to slice vegetables, or to roll out a ball of dough, and he thinks that he wants this forever

there is a growing desire inside of him to keep the light in you burning alive, to teach you things that will only make you smile, and to keep you under his watchful protection

his feelings intensify in moments like these, when a nightmare has led you to slip out from under your blankets to crawl into the comforting solace of seonghwa’s sturdy arms

he gently nuzzles his nose against yours

“considering you spend more time in my bed than your own, maybe i should swap this one out for a bigger bed”

despite his words of defeat, his tone is endearing

you look up at him with doe eyes, lips slightly pouted in determination. “my favourite place would still be in your arms”

seonghwa can feel his resolve breaking down

that seems to be the effect you have had on him since the day he found you

breaking protocols, breaking habits, breaking walls

seonghwa does not fear many things, and yet, tonight he is scared that he will confess his innermost desire to call you his

“i’m a dangerous man, love,” he whispers

you place a hand softly on his cheek as you reply with a whisper of your own

“a man who claims he is dangerous, and yet has shown me more care, love and happiness than i have known my entire life”

his tongue darts out over his dry lips, and your eyes involuntarily flick down to catch the movement

it doesn’t go unnoticed, and seonghwa is leaning in closer, slow enough for you to lean back should you wish

“i want to continue showing you that for the rest of your life, if you’ll let me”

you close the gap between the two of you in the form of your answer, pressing your lips gently against his

he chases after your lips until the both of you are rosy-cheeked and breathless, pressing his forehead against yours as he runs his thumb over your cheekbone, thinking that there is nothing more perfect than this moment with you

and this time, he is not scared of the sweet confession that comes tumbling out of him

“if your favourite place is in my arms, then i think my favourite place is on your lips”

yunho

pov: you're his literal partner-in-crime

you and yunho have been mission partners since the moment you two met

ateez’s deadly duo

like peanut butter and jelly, macaroni and cheese, you and yunho are a combination that make more sense together than alone

it’s what leads to yunho affectionately calling you ‘J’, claiming you as the J to his PB

and if both of you know that there is more to that claim - that you’re his other half - than just a working relationship, neither of you bring it up, even if your interactions involve flirtatious comments and touches

the two of you are usually assigned the more covert missions, like assassination, as yunho is the gang’s best sniper, and you have an aptitude for luring the target into an ideal position 

it’s your ‘natural charm’, as yunho likes to put it

working together, basically every mission is a guaranteed success

so despite you being the only one exposed out on the field, you trust yunho with your life, quite literally, to take out the targets in due time and to get you both back to base safely

hence it’s a completely new and utterly terrifying experience for you to find yourself held at gunpoint by the very same man you guys have been assigned to kill, the mission having taken a very wrong turn

an anomaly, but not uncommon, you, yunho and jongho had been briefed the week before of the mission that would take place tonight, a job that would require the three of you to work together

you were to find out whether the target, kwan, knew any information about the death of a mob boss in a bordering territory, suspicions raised after phone logs showed that kwan kept in frequent contact with the mobster, and jongho was there to help with the more physical aspect of persuasion. yunho, as usual, was to be stationed on the rooftop of a building nearby

and that was the plan that the three of you had been following, up until moments ago when you and jongho triggered a silent alarm, allowing kwan enough time to ambush you

jongho had been fast enough to land a punch, but wasn’t able to stop kwan from snaking his arm around your neck and bringing his other hand up to press a gun against your temple in one fluid motion

which is where you find yourself now

yunho is relaying the situation back to base, having started reporting into his earpiece the moment he spotted kwan - there was not enough time to adjust his sniper to take out the moving target, much less when no one had expected kwan to make the first move

“forget about the interrogation. yunho, can you get a clear shot now?”

“negative,” he replies

yunho bites back a curse of frustration, struggling to keep his cool. he has had years upon years of experience and training, and he knows that he needs to approach this situation calmly

but it is you down there right now who is in danger, and yunho has to fight all of his primal instincts not to run down there and rip you from kwan’s grasp

kwan has taken several steps back with you in his hold, his head now out of sight as it becomes covered by the scaffolding around the building

and no matter which angle yunho adjusts his scope from, the only face that he can clearly see is yours, pupils dilated with fear and skin flushing from the strain

he sees the way your hands are grasping at the muscular forearm slowly choking your neck, the way your shoulder is pushing back against kwan’s chest in an attempt to loosen his hold…

you hear yunho’s voice in your earpiece

“J, there might be a way to save you, but for that, i’ll have to hurt you,” yunho starts. “touch your forearm if you trust me”

you bring your right hand to your left forearm, leaving it there for a second before removing it

“what are you planning on doing?” hongjoong questions

yunho swallows, finding it hard to say his next sentence

“i’m going to shoot his heart through J’s shoulder”

you know that it’s a difficult and risky shot - several variables could turn this into a fatal shot not just for the man behind you, but you also - but if anyone could pull it off, it would be yunho

and if things were to go south, dying by the hands of the man you have loved for half your life doesn’t seem so bad either

yunho knows you can hear him clearly through your earpiece, having only just followed his request moments ago, and it is the fact that your frightened gaze is suddenly replaced by a hard determination and newfound hope at his words alone, so ready and easily entrusting your life in his hands, that hurts him the most

because the last thing he ever wants to do is to hurt you, because he loves you too much to cause you any pain, even if it is the only way to save you

at hongjoong’s confirmation of the go ahead, albeit voice strained, yunho lets out a long exhale before bringing his right eye to the scope of his sniper, shutting his left eye with a sense of finality

he reminds himself, like a mantra, that he only has one shot at this, when your tight voice filters into his ear

you struggle to take a breath as you pretend to speak to jongho, when really, your mind is only filled with yunho and your words are only for yunho and you pray to god that he knows

“if i don’t make it, just know that i love you”

yunho’s heart comes to a stuttering pause as tears start to well up in the corners of his eyes. he rapidly blinks them away to clear his vision, because if he wants to hear those sweet confessions from your lips, and return the same of his own, face to face, then he has to take down kwan now

adjusting the angle of his sniper so that the crosshairs have aligned with your right shoulder, he waits for the perfect window of opportunity-

“i love you too, J”

and then he pulls the trigger.

your shoulder bursts into a pain so blinding you wonder if it is really just one bullet that has gone through your body

it feels like you are simultaneously being burned and stabbed, over and over again, the sensation rapidly travelling across your chest and upper body as you start to collapse, the man behind you no longer holding you up as he instantly slumps to the ground dead

you faintly register the sight of jongho sprinting towards you, arms outstretched and mouth forming the first syllable of your real name, before you hit the ground and you black out from the second eruption of pain upon impact

yunho’s days blur together, a fever dream of red rivulets, echoing screams and phantom recoils

every time he closes his eyes, he sees that one moment replaying over and over again

like a taunting five-second film strip that has been repeatedly duped and taped together to replay an endless movie

he sees your body jerk grotesquely as the bullet - his bullet - rips through you. he sees your face twisting into searing, raw agony. he sees you fall heavily to the ground, just like kwan.

he sees you die, die, die

if only he had been the one on the field

if only he had been the one held at gunpoint

if only he had been able to shoot kwan a little faster

if only-

“...y-yun?”

the film stops.

you blearily blink as your eyes struggle to adjust to the lighting of the medical wing, voice dry and scratchy from disuse

suddenly there’s a hand caressing your cheek, a nest of brown curls, a choked sob, another hand brushing your hair, a whimper of your name, a pair of bloodshot eyes, and it’s all a bit too much all at once but it fills you with a sudden rush of air because it’s yunho, crowding your vision and personal space and heart and-

“you’re alive.” yunho can’t quite believe the words falling from his lips

“i’d hope so. unless you also somehow died and we’re in hell right now”

he lets out a shaky exhale at your joke

“fuck, J, i thought i was going to lose you forever”

you try to reach out for him in reassurance, until a sharp stab in your right shoulder reminds you of your injury and you cease your movements, squeezing your eyes and biting your bottom lip until the pain dulls to a tolerable throb

yunho’s hands hover over you frantically but he’s not quite sure where to place them or what to do or how to comfort you

“shit, does it hurt? yes, of course it hurts. fuck, how bad? really bad? do i need to get you painkillers? probably, yes, let me just, um, find them. shit, okay, don’t move, okay”

you don’t think you’ve ever heard such a colourful string of words leave his mouth before, nor have you ever seen him this flustered and uncertain and worried about you

“if this is how you treat me when i’m hurt, maybe i should get shot more often”

yunho freezes guiltily, then shoots you a scandalous look, before his face morphs into an expression more serious

“seeing you get shot was the worst moment of my life, especially when i was the one who hurt you. it felt like i was the one who was dying, and- and when i thought that i would never be able to tell you just how much i actually love you, i-”

“but you did tell me, and you saved me…just like you said you would. and i’m here now, to tell you that i love you, too, so so much…”

yunho slowly lifts up a corner of your blanket so that he can ease himself into bed next to you, propping himself up onto one elbow and angling himself towards you so that he can carefully place his other arm over your waist, like a sweet claim that you are alive and real and his now

you settle a little more comfortably into the broadness of his chest, before he asks, “can i see?”

you nod, then you’re shivering slightly from the stroke of cool air as yunho slowly lowers the top of the sheets to reveal your bandaged shoulder

you’re not wearing much underneath for ease of changing your dressing, yet you don’t feel shy under his gaze - in the silence of the small infirmary, where it is just you and yunho, a pair who makes more sense together than alone

he presses butterfly kisses just around your wound, fluttering over the gentle dip of your sternum and along your collarbone and down the smooth slope of your upper arm

“i heard voices, is J awake- woah, okay, nevermind!!”

just as quickly as wooyoung opens the door to the med wing, he slaps a hand over his eyes as he hollers and swivels on the ball of his foot to step back out and announce with a shout,

“PB&J are fucking in the ward, nobody disturb them!”

“no we’re n- oh my god, whatever, i’m not even going to try,” yunho slumps back against the bed in defeat from where he had jerked up the moment wooyoung interrupted

he looks at you - face flushed, lips curled into a bashful smile, one hand softly fisting the front of his shirt, and he thinks that you look so, so pretty

“well, since woo’s already guaranteed us some privacy, how about we take advantage of it, hm?”

you can literally see the moment your words bring the cogs in yunho’s brain to a screeching halt

and then all of a sudden, they come spluttering back to life

his eyes glint with mischief

a breathless “okay, yeah”

and then he’s pulling the sheets back completely

and he thinks to himself once again that oh, you really do look so, so pretty

yeosang

pov: you're friends and he's your bodyguard

for as long as you can remember, it has always been you and hongjoong

he tells you that your parents disappeared from the picture almost as soon as you were born - why, you never care to ask, as you have no memories of them anyway - so hongjoong is simultaneously a friend, a brother and a father to you

a few years later, your little pair suddenly doubles in number with the addition of yeosang and seonghwa - two boys who have fled from an abusive orphanage

the four of you form an unlikely group of ragtag misfits; children trying to exist in a world for adults

you learn the ways of survival through street smarts and petty crime

and you develop a soft spot for yeosang - with his big, round eyes - just like hongjoong does for seonghwa

your gang of found family continues to grow. systems, roles and hierarchy become implemented as you all dip your toes into increasingly dangerous and illegal activities, eventually becoming the mafia gang ‘ateez’ and hongjoong naturally taking on the leadership role

one thing that stays constant, no matter how old you are, is hongjoong’s protectiveness over you

and when you nearly get kidnapped one time on your way to the shops, hongjoong doesn’t let you out of his sight for three days straight, until you finally snap in frustration and threaten to shave his mullet off if he doesn’t stop breathing down your neck

eventually you two come to a compromise - more like hongjoong threatens you back, but he says otherwise - that you’ll have a bodyguard to keep you safe

and hongjoong thinks there is no better candidate than the very man he has known for over a decade, and is arguably one of the best fighters in ateez

“yeosang? i literally grew up wiping his nose for him as a kid, but okay”

so at first it’s a little funny, having your roles reverse - someone who you dote on, despite being similar ages, now doing the doting

but then it starts to become endearing, yeosang’s little antics and unwavering determination to be ‘the best bodyguard ever’ causing laughter to bubble from your lips whenever you two are together

like the way he steals takes your first bite of food, insisting he’s checking to make sure no one is attempting to poison you

or when he runs ahead to open the door for you, declaring that if there is someone behind it waiting with a gun, he’ll get shot for you

and when he naturally places himself between you and the road, claiming that his buff muscles with stop any swerving cars from hitting you

it’s the way that in whatever he does, he’s always looking out for you

but it’s really the less common moments, when his more guarded, brooding and protective side makes an appearance, yeosang immediately stepping forward to place his larger frame in front of yours whenever he perceives danger in a situation, one hand reaching behind him to carefully press you closer into his back, that makes your heart flutter and stomach flip uncontrollably

as you sit behind yeosang now, the familiar feeling of his steadfast back and your arms wrapped around his waist whilst he accelerates the motorbike, you wonder how it would feel to be pressed up against his chest instead, melting into the sturdy embrace of his arms as the steady beat of his heart sounds in your ear

you’re meeting an informant who has picked up on the tail of a child trafficking ring, running under the guise of an orphanage

they have been a reliable source for several years now and you trust them enough that most contact you have with them is done one on one

still, yeosang (and hongjoong) insists that he accompanies you, which is why you have to force yourself to focus back on the task at hand, not yeosang’s arms or chest, as his motorbike pulls into the abandoned junkyard

“uhh,” yeosang looks around as he helps you off the motorbike, “do your meeting spots usually entail an unlimited number of blind spots that can allow someone to attack you?”

the scattered cars around the junkyard form a labyrinth of, you do admit, potential danger

“just making sure you don’t become jobless”

“yeah but if your brother finds out, i’m going to become jobless and headless”

“you don’t tell, i don’t tell. deal?”

“okay, deal”

he’s about to link pinkies with you, a habit neither of you have outgrown, when a bullet shatters the window of the car to your right, passing straight between the two of you as it ricochets off a surface you never get to find out what

yeosang makes an immediate dive for you, knocking the breath out of you from the force with which he collides into you

he wraps his arms around you tightly, curling you into his chest as he presses you against the floor, shielding your body with his own

“fuck!” he growls, “it’s a trap”

and in any other situation, the huskiness of his harsh curse and the proximity of his muscles rippling around you would have you sweaty and weak in the knees

just not when you’re in a life or death situation

yeosang tugs a smoke grenade off his tactical belt, ripping the ring off with his teeth before sending it flying over the car you two are taking cover behind

as the smoke starts to cloud the vision of what yeosang hopes is only a handful of enemies, he leans down to look at you with burning intensity

“when i give you the signal, run to the bike and don’t look back. i’ll cover you”

you slip out a pistol from your own belt, “and i’ll cover you once i’m there”

yeosang nods grimly, straightening slightly to fire off several shots into the general direction of where gunfire is generating from

he ducks back down, only to grab a grenade this time

“go!”

you hear the sound of more bullets as you frantically sprint to the bike, swinging a leg over the body to seat yourself on top

“yeosang! covering you now!”

swiftly glancing at you to confirm your safety, yeosang pulls the pin and hurls the grenade as far as he can before turning and racing towards you

he nearly knocks you right off with his long leg in his haste to mount his motorbike, twisting the throttle to send dirt flying as the wheels jerk forward

as yeosang starts to pull you both away from the junkyard, you’re hit by a shock wave and burst of heat when the grenade detonates

the explosion seems to have taken out most of the attackers, if the dwindling of gunfire is any indication, but there are still a few, intermittent shots, likely from someone who has been staking out further away from the eruption

with the junkyard behind you erupting into flames and the adrenaline from your close shave with death coursing through your veins, you raise a middle finger into the air and holler, “you fuckers can’t aim for shit!”-

just as a bullet opens up a gash on the side of yeosang’s arm

to his credit, he barely flinches apart from the hiss that escapes his gritted teeth, but your heart still clenches and throbs at the sound

as the distance between the pair of you and the junkyard increases, a terrifying thought suddenly dawns on you

“do you think we can hide this from hongjoong?”

unfortunately, the answer is no.

the guilty look in your eyes is an immediate giveaway

hongjoong nearly faints as he pulls you into a crushing hug, pulling back for brief moments only to fret over you and make sure you’re unscathed

when you finally calm him down enough to assure him that no, joong, i’m not hurt, yeosang saved me and that said man is actually the one who is hurt, your brother finally seems to remember the presence of the other

yeosang laughs and shakes off hongjoong’s belated concern to get his wound attended to, claiming that it is just a scratch, even swinging his arm around for good measure

you frown, giving your brother one last, reassuring hug before you tug on yeosang’s hand with a quiet, “come with me,” before you head towards your room

you close the door and lead him by the hand to sit on the edge of your bed

now that you two are alone, yeosang suddenly juts his bottom lip out, declaring that his arm is actually in great pain and it’s going to fall off if you don’t do something about it soon

“fix my booboo for me” :(((

you chuckle as you lightly nudge him with your hip, pointing out how different he is whenever he’s with you, “all soft and caring and squishy”

“you still don’t get why, do you?” he looks up at you with fondness in his eyes from his seated position on your bed, eyes flickering back and forth between your own as if he is looking for something

your lips are slightly parted, breath hitching as you try to control the thumping of your heart that you are almost certain he can hear

finally breaking eye contact, yeosang shrugs off his red and black leather jacket, leaving him in a fitted, black tank top that accentuates the sculpted swell of his chest and reveals the toned muscles of his arms

you drag your eyes away from him before he can catch you staring, moving away to fill a bowl with water and wetting a towel

as you settle down next to him on the bed, gently wiping away the dried blood on his arm, guilt starts to seep into you

“i wish i was the one who got hurt…” you whisper

a warm, larger hand over the top of yours brings your gaze up to look at him

“i would rather die before letting you lose even so much as a hair on your head. your life is worth so much”

yeosang - a boy you grew up protecting from the monsters in the dark with a candle, now a man protecting you from the monsters of the world with his life

in that moment, you decide to take a leap of faith

“but what is my life worth, if it is not with you?”

and yeosang catches you

he cups your face with his hands to brush a sweet kiss against your forehead, pulling back to capture your blissful expression, before leaning back in to press his lips against your own

breathless from the kiss and from the swirl of emotions inside of you, you nuzzle your foreheads together as you let out a small giggle

"just wait until my brother finds out about this"

san

pov: you're part of a rival mafia gang

you used to work for an underground casino

considering the business itself was formed around illegal gambling, drug dealing and money laundering, they turned a blind eye to the fact that you were still underage at the time of your hire

you never really noticed a pattern in the repeated appearance of certain men until you were approached by one yourself, his teeth yellowed and stained from countless smokes, tip of a blackwork tattoo peeking out from under his collar and extending behind his ear, one hand adorned with an assortment of gold and silver that was probably worth more than your life

you had no family, no real plan, no real future, so when you were offered the prospect of a better life, with money and protection, you agreed to become an associate of the crescent clan

a stupid decision in hindsight, but one made out of desperation and vulnerability

just a few years shy of a decade later, you’ve risen up the ranks and now you serve directly under the capo of your territory

you usually accompany your capo to negotiations and deals that occur between different organisations, which are generally civil and fair to keep relations pleasant, even if just on a surface level

negotiations happen much smoother when both parties have familiar - and thus trusted - faces present

which is the exact reason why you’re present at most meetings your capo is involved in, and the reason why you become familiar with certain faces who, like you, help represent their own respective clan

you’re reminded of that fact as your eyes briefly flick up from the meeting in present time, a trade request for a shipment of weapons, only to find his dark eyes already trained on you

san of ateez.

crescent and ateez have made several negotiations over the years. the two groups are not exactly on the terms where they would be in the same room for a reason other than business. but they are not exactly on the terms to want the blood of the other spilled, either

when san realises you’ve returned his gaze, the right side of his mouth rises into a smirk that has you looking away with a subtle eye-roll

because that’s how it has always been between the two of you

smirks, amiable quips, sarcastic ‘sweetheart’s from his end

scoffs, humouring his antics, biteless ‘fuck off’s from your end

an acquaintanceship that is built upon nothing more than brief run-ins and business deals. if there is an underlying interest, or daresay, desire for the other, it is buried deep within the bottom of your hearts

and that is how you both go about - a duet of dances but never touching, a game of gazes but never lasting

until one day, everything you’ve ever known goes to shit

it’s a deal gone wrong. you are all already on high alert, this only being the second time negotiating with this particular organisation

there must be a rat or traitor in crescent, and you just happen to be the scapegoat, or there is a member who holds a personal vendetta against you

regardless, all it takes is an incriminating note and an altered photo for years of trust - or as close to trust as you can develop in the mafia world - to erupt into flames, and for the deal to fall through. whether or not there actually was a deal to be made, or whether it was all a set-up to begin with, you’re unsure

amidst the chaos of guns and knives from both sides, you incapacitate enough of your own to sprint away, but not without injuries of your own

carefully nursing your ribs as you ignore the sticky sensation of blood trailing down your forehead, you manage to stumble your way through the dark alleys

why your feet take you there you’re not sure

but you find yourself staring at the rusted peephole and spiderwebbed paint of san’s apartment door

he had slipped you a piece of paper with the messy scrawl of his address as a joke months ago, quote unquote if you ever wanted to have a good night

before you can reason with yourself to turn away, you rap your knuckles against the door

a few seconds of nothing but your quick, shallow breaths fill the hallway

until the door is ripped open and you’re met with san’s murderous gaze

and at first you think that he’s going to finish off what the dirty traitor first started - kill you right there and then at the threshold of his door for disturbing him at this ungodly hour - when his eyes flick over your forehead and back to your eyes so quickly you almost think you imagine it

"who hurt you"

if you aren’t so delirious from the pain starting to seep into your body now that the adrenaline is starting to wear off, you would notice the tremble in san’s voice as it drops an octave lower than usual

or the way his chin lowers slightly, eyes narrowing as the veins on his neck become more prominent

or the way his fingers whiten from his grip on the door handle

“san-” you breathe out

“who.”

you’re conscious of the possibility of the eyes and ears of anybody catching the both of you right now

because in the end, he’s part of ateez, and you’re part of crescent, even if your very own clan has painted a giant red target on your back now

and honestly, you just want to sit the fuck down

so you shove him aside as you force yourself in

or more like he lets you shove him aside. because he’s built like a brick wall and you, well, are not.

you hear a click from behind and you realise that perhaps, your interest in san is not buried as deeply as you believed it to be, when your first thought is that you’re now safe within his locked apartment, as opposed to whipping around out of gut instinct expecting to face the barrel of a gun

you let out an involuntary grunt of discomfort as you lower yourself onto his couch, and almost immediately san enters your field of vision again

kneeling in front of you, san’s eyes soften as he attempts to quell the flames inside of him so that he can focus on you in the present

“where are you hurt?”

he goes to grab his first aid kit after you begrudgingly answer

he squeezes an instant ice pack, holding it in his right hand as it starts to rapidly cool. with his other hand, san reaches towards your ribs where your own hand is still cradling your injury

“let me have a look”

he hovers his hand over yours whilst searching your eyes, waiting for confirmation that it’s okay

when you swallow and nod your head, he gently moves your hand aside and lifts up the bottom edge of your shirt to reveal a mottle of angry marks around your left ribcage, like a bucket of spilled paint splattered across a surface

san clenches and unclenches his jaw before letting out a long exhale, then places the ice pack gently over the area

you hold it in place as he rises to take a seat on the couch next to you, resting one of his knees on the couch too so that he can angle himself towards the gash on your forehead

you try to ignore the pressure of his knee against your thigh and the heat that radiates off it, because despite the numerous run-ins you’ve had with him, you two have never been this close within each other’s proximities before

he works in silence, wiping the crusted blood off your face and out of your hairline, pouring alcohol onto a cotton bud so that he can disinfect your wound

you feel the warmth of his exhales and the dancing of his deft fingers as he whispers soft apologies and ‘just a little longer’s whenever you wince

when he finally gets a good look at the cut extending from your hairline to the corner of your brow, narrowly sparing your eye, still a raw red around the area, his hands slow to a stop as if afraid to touch you any further

it’s your turn to murmur a reassurance, that “it’s not as bad as it looks, san”, turning your body towards him and ducking your head down to try and catch his gaze from under his fringe

“who hurt you, sweetheart?” he asks again

he meets your eyes with an intensity that almost has you pulling back, but instead it does the opposite - the gentle furrow of his brows knitting together, the concern laced in his deep voice so contrasting to the usual teasing lilt of his voice he uses with you, the faint sensation of his fingertips brushing against your cheek - all pulling you in like quicksand that you can’t escape from, except you wonder to yourself whether you even want to escape or whether it wouldn’t be so bad to let yourself become consumed and engulfed by this. by him.

as you explain how the betrayal of your own unfolded, how you fought for your life and managed to flee, how before you knew it you were at san's door, his gaze never wavers from yours

you've started to dissociate yourself from the events of the last two hours, but san's constant touches keep you grounded

a stroke of his thumb across your jawline, a caress of your temple as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a gentle squeeze of the nape of your neck

as your words come to a finish, your heart rate picks up at the silence that settles over san's apartment, a silence whose meaning you cannot decipher, clouding you with uncertainty

uncertainty of your future, now that you don't have the protection of your clan

and uncertainty regarding the man before you, now that you've bared yourself to him in one of your most vulnerable states, both physically and emotionally

then your heart comes to a stuttering pause at his response

“join me”

because despite you belonging to a different mafia, despite the teasing comments thrown at you, despite never having had the luxury to hold a conversation longer than five minutes with you, san's gaze has always been on you

"let me protect you, sweetheart"

and perhaps yours has always been on him too

so as you take a deep breath, you nod and let go, allowing yourself to be pulled in completely, with the comforting knowledge that san will be there to hold you from now on

mingi

pov: you're a citizen in the wrong place at the wrong time

you’re the owner of a small bar, the mist

it’s a modest little place, with a singular countertop spanning almost the full length of the bar from the entrance towards the back wall. there are a couple of low-backed stools along the counter, allowing customers to engage in idle conversation as they watch you make and serve up different drinks, and two smaller tables are placed in the far corners, should anyone desire a little more solitude

right across the street from yours, there’s a larger bar, the chilli peppers, that attracts most of the individuals seeking a little buzz for their body, a quick stringless night of passionate touches, or an opportunity to forget and drown out unwanted realities 

the few who venture away, stumble across your bar by accident, or have grown a strange fondness strong enough to pull them back to the mist again, are enough to keep your business going

barely. but you haven’t had to close your bar yet so it’s something

plus, you were able to lease the little room right above it as well, and you can call it your home

so really, you don’t have anything to complain about

except maybe those nights when the air is tenser than usual

nights where the distant drumming of heavy bass and droning of conversation is disrupted by escalating voices, thrown fists, shattering glass, and on some rarer occasions, the resounding authority of a single gunshot

and it seems like tonight is one of those nights

mingi knows something is off the moment he steps through the saloon doors into the chilli peppers, the accelerating creaks of the panels swinging back and forth reflective of the way his heart rate starts to pick up

he keeps his gaze covered underneath the wide brim of his hat, noting the way the eyes of the men scattered around the bar are trained on him

and under usual circumstances, being surrounded by members of the xikers clan wouldn’t make the weight of the automatic rifle slung across his back seem heavier than usual, considering they all believed him to be one of their own - also a loyal associate, rather than the spy for ateez that he actually was

but as mingi’s eyes catch sight of his portrait roughly sketched onto a ‘wanted’ poster behind the bartender, he realises that they might not quite believe him anymore

the sudden hellfire of gunshots startles the glass cup out of your hand, sending it shattering across your tiled floor like an omen of what’s to come

frazzled and unnerved, the reasonable part of your brain telling you to flee upstairs to safety shuts down and you squat behind your countertop to, instead, clear up the mess of broken glass

it doesn’t dawn on you the fact that amongst the chaos of sound outside, one particular set of footsteps have halted for a split second in front of your door

a quick scan inside of what looks like a small bar appears to show no signs of people, and mingi doesn’t have time to second-guess his observation before he’s pushing the door open in an attempt to seek refuge from the few men who have managed to stumble their way out in pursuit of him

mingi spots a countertop running parallel to the wall, a place that can easily cover him from the vantage point outside

so he places a hand on the table, jumping up and shifting his weight onto his hand to bring his legs and body nimbly over to the other side of the countertop

only to very nearly land on a small mountain of glass pieces

and a person.

you.

for a few seconds, you and mingi just stare at each other from your crouched positions, shock reflected in the both of you but for completely different reasons

you, because who is this man how did he suddenly appear in front of you what is he doing here

and him, because-

“shit, i thought there was no one in here”

a small part of you that is still somehow functioning thinks that now is probably not the time to point out that, in fact, the lights of your bar were on so yes, of course there would be someone in here

but then he’s shuffling a little closer to you, the sound of glass crunching under his feet as he extends an arm to gently press the both of you flush against the drawers of the counter

you realise he’s trying to keep the both of you out of sight - from who exactly you’re not sure - when a harsh voice, startling close to the outside of your bar, shouts “find that fucker right now”

you think to yourself that this is it

this is how you’re going to die

all you can do is bite back the whimpers that are threatening to escape your mouth as you tremble

he takes a quick glance at you, noting the way you have hunched in on yourself in an attempt to appear smaller, eyes rounded with apprehension, fingernails digging into your own palms

the least he can do right now is offer you some semblance of comfort, even if he is the very reason you had been dragged into this mess in the first place

so he lowers his arm that has been stretched across your front, and places his hand over your smaller, shaking ones

he’s able to engulf both of your curled fists with just his one hand

he feels one of your hands slowly open, only to reach out and encase two of his fingers in a firm grasp, much like a child would their security blanket

you both stay like that until your muscles start to ache and the pounding of shoes against pavement have long gone, and when mingi is sure that the men won’t backtrack, he gently eases his hand out of your grasp, but only so that he can remove his long, leather jacket and place it on the ground for you to sit on without hurting yourself on the glass shards

he apologises, explaining that there was a bit of a ‘scuffle’ - you nearly snort at this - and he had to find a quick place to hide from the men

he really didn’t mean to involve you

somehow, during the conversation, his hand has made his way on top of yours again, your own fingers grasping a couple of his, just like earlier

you’re not sure who initiated it

but you do know that it feels comforting, safe, warm

feeling a burst of courage, you ask the question that’s burning at the forefront of your mind

“are you running away from bad guys? or are you the…”

the remainder of your question goes unfinished, but mingi understands nevertheless

working as a spy, he has been trying to uncover information about county lines - drug trafficking between areas by coercing vulnerable populations to do the dirty work - so that ateez can terminate the operation ring. and xikers has been suspected to be the key reason behind the recent disappearance of children and elderly

is what he is doing considered illegal? yes

but can you say that it is wrong? debatable

“what makes a person bad?” he asks

“i’m not sure…someone who does the wrong things, i guess?”

as soon as the words leave your mouth, you realise how sheltered and privileged you sound

mingi hums

“sometimes people have to do the wrong things to make things right”

a moment of silence. a peer of curiosity

“are you trying to make things right?”

an upturn of the corner of a mouth

“i’d like to think that i am. or trying to, at least”

it’s a strange feeling, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder as you make soft-spoken conversation with a man whose name you still don’t know, a man who is a blur of black and white, bad and good, dangerous and safe

when he sees you suppress your third yawn in the last five minutes, mingi realises he’s overstayed and he probably should have reported back to his boss, hongjoong, ages ago, and it was probably way past your shop’s closing time too

“i should go”

“oh, okay, um, yeah”

your face grows hot as you fumble over your words, suddenly wide awake

you’re curious about this handsome stranger, yearning to unravel the secrets that he is harbouring, to learn about the good bad things he is doing to make wrong things right

and then mingi is standing, and it hits you that you’re not quite ready for this night to end

mingi decides to leave his leather jacket behind, which you are still prettily perched on top of, and he’s just about to round the end of the countertop, when your shy, hesitant tug on the back of his waistcoat pauses him in his tracks

“...will i see you again?” you question softly

he knows. he knows that the answer should be no. that someone whose canvas as white as yours should not be mixing with someone like himself, who will only ever be able to work with dark colours

and yet, he finds himself saying

“yeah, i think you will.” he slowly removes your hand from his waistcoat, brushing his thumb softly over your knuckles as he nods towards the floor. “that leather coat is designer, so i’ll be back for it”

and if that coat was really just passed-on to him from someone else because it was simply a size too large, then that would just have to be another secret for you to discover in the future

wooyoung

pov: you're a worker at the store he frequents

over your three years of working the night shift at the convenience store, you can say that you’ve seen it all

from the piss-drunk people (pun intended) having pissing contests to see how far they can shoot their stream along the pavement

to the breakups in the frozen foods section because a couple can’t see eye to eye on their opinions regarding mint chocolate as a flavour

but as a bloodied and beat-up man comes quite literally crawling to the glass doors of your store front, halfway through your thursday shift, you’re not so sure anymore

a quick glance at the aisles confirms that there are currently no customers inside - not that there usually are at four am - so you round the register counter and walk to the doors with your eyes narrowed

you briefly eye the plastic umbrellas displayed near the entrance, wondering if you should grab one for self-defence, but eventually decide against it since the man outside already looks like roadkill without your additional contribution

the door chimes when you nudge it open, and you raise an eyebrow as you scan the man’s busted lip and swollen left eye, fresh bruises and cuts littering the rest of his face and knuckles

you had just mopped the white floor an hour ago, and quite frankly, you’re not interested in doing that again

wooyoung finally gathers enough strength to raise his head to look up at you, the doorbell alerting him of your presence, and between the lights of the store creating a backlight around your figure and a very likely case of concussion, he thinks that he’s being visited by an angel-

“if you can crawl yourself here, you can crawl yourself to the nearest hospital”

you squat down next to him, pulling your phone out of your back pocket with the full intention of bringing up google maps to start him off in the right direction

flustered, he tells you, “i can’t go to the hospital. it’ll only bring me more trouble”

“oh, yeah? and why exactly would you get into trouble”

“because i’m part of the mafia”

you have to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes

why does this guy think that exaggerating his story will make him sound more masculine?

chances are he picked a fight with the wrong guy, got his ass handed back to him, and doesn’t want to embarrass himself further by going to the hospital

pinching the bridge of your nose, you resign yourself to having to clean the floor again after this problem is taken care of

“if you don’t stop squirming i’ll give you a black eye to match your left one”

“but it huuuurts”

as you both sit in the back room - a ‘be back in 10 minutes’ sign stuck on the store’s front door - you’re discovering that this guy is not only a grand storyteller, but is also a vocal whiner

holding back the urge to use the gauze tape in your hands to seal his lips closed, you rip a strip off instead so that you can secure the dressing pad against his cheek

“so how did you get hurt, exactly?” you decide to ask him, in hopes that it will distract him from the pain and actually let you dress his wounds properly

he tells you that he manages several underground fight clubs, usually remotely through his own lackeys, but it occasionally requires him to make rounds in person to keep them smooth-running

except, tonight there had been a disagreement over the bidding wins at one particular venue

which, combined with the hyped atmosphere of the crowd, had quickly escalated into a full-blown brawl

and wooyoung discovers that he is apparently a crowd favourite when it comes to getting pummelled

again with the lies.

“yeah, and i belong to the royal family but look where we are now.” you give the bandaid you have just placed over a cut on his forearm a final pat. “there, you’re all patched up”

he utters a thanks as he helps you clear away the packages of gauze, bandages and bottle of saline you have taken from the small first aid section of your store

when you outstretch a hand towards him, your palm facing upwards, he looks at you almost bashfully

you can’t quite understand why…until he places his hand into yours

“ow!” he cradles his hand that you have just slapped away against his chest, infatuated expression quickly withering under the dirty glare you shoot at him

once it’s clear that he won’t try to hold your hand again, you extend your arm once more

“cough up.” you gesture at his face, “those things cost money”

he winces, “i uh…i don’t have any money on me right now…can’t you just be a good samaritan and help a poor guy out?”

“yeah well this good samaritan also happens to be poor, so, no.”

he has the audacity to look like a kicked puppy, which, no, absolutely does not weaken your resolve. at all.

with the promise of returning soon with the money he owed you, and the new, yet not necessarily unwelcome, name of wooyoung falling from your lips, he bids you farewell as the first streaks of dawn start to paint the night sky

and indeed, wooyoung comes back the following night to hand over some crumpled notes and loose change, face still looking a little worse for wear, but at least he is not crawling anymore

you think that that is the end of this acquaintance - a favour given, a debt paid off, a brief crossing of fates

but unbeknownst to you, an extension of the accepted promise includes wooyoung’s recurring presence in your store on random nights

at first, it is just once a fortnight that you will find wooyoung peeking in through the windows, eyes lighting up in recognition as he spots you at the register, before he is walking in through the doors

then, it becomes one to two times a week that wooyoung will already be waving at you from outside as he skips his way to the doors of the convenience store

soon, wooyoung is keeping you company almost every other shift that you work, having spent enough time watching you work that he could do your job for you

he’ll snack during your shifts (you find that he has an intense sweet tooth and can down three share packs of lollies in one hour alone)

or he’ll share his mafia stories (you let him keep this running theme going - perhaps he is part of a silly street gang, so you don’t bother to correct him)

or he’ll arrive a little roughed up (you patch him up and tell him that he must be a pretty crappy fighter if he gets hurt this much)

and during those moments, when you carefully dab at the grazes on his face, when you are close enough to feel the soft exhales coming from his slightly pursed lips, when you see all the little embellishments adorning his face such as the spot under his left eye or on his bottom lip, you come to realise that wooyoung is, in fact, actually quite good looking

an understatement, but you’re not about to confess that either

the clock has just ticked past midnight - wooyoung isn’t around and you are rearranging the packets of gum on display at your counter for the third time in a row to keep yourself busy and from admitting that, perhaps, you are waiting for him

your slight frown turns into carefully feigned nonchalance when you think you can see his familiar mop of two-toned hair appear from across the road, your heart involuntarily skipping a beat

except your face contorts back into an even deeper frown upon spotting the frenzied look in his eyes and his flailing limbs as he comes closer and closer, until he barrels right through the doors

he forgoes a greeting, instead whizzing past you like a mini tornado, beelining for the back room of the store as he yelps, “pretend i’m not in here!”

blinking back the dazed fog in your brain, you suppose he is being chased by another bunch of street hooligans and has decided to hide in your store during your shift

just excellent.

honestly, you should probably have a chat with wooyoung after all this and talk to him about his little gang antics because just what sort of people is he hanging out with and what kind of gang chases after other people like children and- oh.

this kind of gang.

it would have been quite funny, really, how they resemble a scene straight out of a mafia movie or drama - five big, burly men in dress shirts and slacks, chains and sunglasses adorning their chests, scars and tattoos littered across their skin, cigarettes and guns held casually in their hands - if it is not for the fact that you are currently the main character of this confrontation, and there is no script writer to ensure that you make it out of this scene alive

you gulp as your brain screams at you to act natural, so you say the first thing that comes to your mind-

“hey fellas, how can i help you this fine evening?”

if wooyoung brings this up with you days later, you deny it and say that he was hiding too far away to catch the conversation properly

“have you seen a guy, mid-twenties, come in here? hair’s half black, half white. pretty hard to miss”

“uhh, no. i haven’t had a customer come in for a while now”

you have to stuff your hands into your pockets to hide their shakiness when you spot a couple of the men start to stalk through the aisles

“i can, uhh, show you the surveillance footage if you guys want? it just might take a while to get the data from the cameras?” you pray to whatever gods are above that they don’t take on your offer

you physically clench to stop yourself from pissing your pants when one of the men try to open the door to the back room - wooyoung, thank fuck, has locked it

the man who you have been addressing appears to be the boss, as he lets out a grunt and signals to the others, “nothing here. let’s go”

with one last rattle of the doorknob, the men lumber their way back out

you stand there frozen, looking at the doors that have just swung closed in dumbfound silence

wooyoung slowly unlocks the back room, wringing his hands together as he steps out and approaches you

you turn to give him a blank stare

“that was the mafia”

“yes”

“you are part of the mafia”

“yes”

“you could’ve put me in danger”

at the rise in your pitch and volume, wooyoung winces with regret, because you sort of have a point - that could have gone down a lot worse than it did

but also he just really, really likes having you as a friend, and he also maybe really, really likes you as more than a friend, and whenever he’s in trouble, the first person to pop up in his head is just always you

plus

“i told you i was in the mafia…” his voice trails off as a lightbulb goes off, “...but you didn’t believe me,” he concludes.

“of course i didn’t believe you! who just casually admits that they’re part of an illegal crime organisation?” you throw your hands up in the air, “and what is someone from the mafia even doing here chatting? or eating snacks? in a convenience store?”

“well even the mafia need to get their snacks from somewhere,” he mumbles

you can see him chew the inside of his cheek as he apologises, before he meekly looks up and asks, “can i…still come by during your shifts?”

you huff, and wooyoung thinks that he has royally fucked up, that you’re going to ban him from the store and from ever seeing you again

but, like always, not dissimilar to the way a maths formula stays constant despite the question it is used to solve, wooyoung’s damned kicked-puppy look has your prickly defences crumbling

you don’t find it very hard to tell him that yes, he still can, because after all,

“where else would you get your snacks from, mafia boy?”

he shrugs, before breaking out into an impish grin. “good, because it just so happens that my favourite snack is only available at this store”

“yeah? and what is that?”

“you”

jongho

pov: you're his childhood sweetheart

hwang, your superintendent, motions silently for the two of you to move in, the coast seemingly clear

you nod as you step into the empty corridor, the gun in your hands trained vigilantly for any signs of danger

just days ago, your police unit had received an anonymous tip about a certain mafia group’s drug trade that would be taking place in an abandoned building

whether or not the information is reliable, you’re uncertain, but both hwang and yourself have been tracking them for years now, the two of you spurred on by the same reason, so you both bite

and as you approach the room at the end of the corridor, you vow to yourself that no matter what it takes, you’re going to bring ateez burning to the ground today

some people are lucky to grow up with a childhood friend, and some even luckier to have a childhood sweetheart

choi jongho is both of those to you

your early memories with him are filled with shared packets of gummy bears on the park swings, games of hide and seek at your dad’s police station, and hushed giggles under the covers during sleepovers

as you both grow older, your memories become ones of cheap diner burgers at your favourite date spot by the river, the smell of home when you’re engulfed in his hoodies, and stolen kisses behind locked bedroom doors

and life is perfect, until your luck runs out

it all comes crashing down the week you start college

your father is killed on the field, his superintendent - hwang seongmin - tells you that he was shot during a confrontation with a young, emerging gang

ateez

and as if that isn’t enough, the world takes away jongho from you too

he doesn’t give you a reason why, only presses fervoured kisses against the salty trails running down your cheeks as tears of his own fall, murmuring desperate promises of “i’ll come back to you. i’ll find you, i promise. but first you have to let me go”

and then he disappears without a trace

channelling your grief into anger, you drop out of college and join the police force, vowing to take down ateez with your bare hands

your thirst for vengeance spurs you to graduate at the top of your unit and rise rapidly through the ranks until you make it into the very same team your father used to serve

here, you are able to dig up old files on your father’s closed case, as well as information on ateez, who have evaded the police all these years

and all the while, you hold onto the hope that someday, jongho will return to mend the broken pieces of your heart back together, just as he had promised

"put your hands in the air where we can see them"

except it’s not hwang’s voice, nor your own, that is making the demand

teeth gritted together, you slowly raise your arms, dominant hand unfurling from your gun as best as you can without dropping it, hwang mirroring your actions to your side

the members of ateez, you realise, emerge from the shadows to slowly encircle you both

you’ve only ever seen photos of hongjoong and seonghwa, the two eldest who are rumoured to have been part of the original few who started ateez

and if you were paying more attention to the dire situation, you would realise that none of their guns are actually pointed at you

except your attention isn't on the guns at all, or the fact that the anonymous lead had been part of ateez’s plan to be discovered in the first place

because stepping forward, right into your line of vision, is jongho

you know that your face must be a sight to see, anger quenched in a millisecond as it turns into bewilderment instead, questions flooding through your mind

you know that he recognises you, and yet, he doesn’t seem surprised or even fazed to see you 

before you’re given the chance to step forward and grab him by his collar, guns be damned, hongjoong is breaking the stillness of the room

he holds up a photo - it appears to be a screen capture from a grainy security feed of…a police station?

more specifically…hwang’s office?

as you squint to make sense of what you’re seeing, the leader addresses you both, “february the 3rd, 2018”

you can’t help the animalistic snarl that leaves your lips as you make a step towards him

how dare he rub it in your face. how dare he bring up the very day he murdered your father in cold blood

jongho calls out your name - acknowledging you for the first time - and he has the gall to look apologetic as he pleads softly, “just listen first. you deserve to hear this”

and if his words don’t give you whiplash, then the way his eyes suddenly become murderous as he turns to look at hwang certainly does

it’s jongho’s turn to step forward, taking the photo and shoving it right in hwang’s face

“i think you remember this night very clearly, hwang. seong. min.”

you don’t miss the way hwang’s eyes widen at his own name, confusion constricting your throat in a chokehold

“h-how do you know my name?”

“it would be hard to forget the name of the person who murdered my lover’s father.”

you feel like your head has been plunged underwater, struggling to breathe in the wave of information that has just crashed over you

hwang seems to connect the dots much faster - the wrong dots, but a conclusion nonetheless

“you fucking rat! you were working for them all along-” he screams and makes a lunge for you

jongho intercepts easily, stepping in front of you and pinning hwang to the ground

“i wouldn’t do that if i were you, unless you want to lose your hand,” jongho growls with controlled rage. “now are we going to do this the easy way, or the hard way?”

hwang stops struggling once he realises there is no way he can overpower jongho

“yeah, fine, it was me,” hwang spits out angrily, “i shot him dead by accident and it fucking ruined my life. we were trying to arrest you fuckers, and look what it cost me”

hongjoong squats down, using the tip of his gun to force hwang’s chin up. “instead of owning up to your wrongdoings, you framed us for murder and kept the man’s own child hidden in the dark all these years”

jongho stands to carefully gather your hands in his; hands that seem so unfamiliar yet are simultaneously all that you have ever known

voice filled with comfort that he wishes he could kiss into you, jongho murmurs, “it’s your decision now. we’ll do whatever you choose.”

you stand at a crossroad

they’ll either hand over all of the evidence and hwang will be convicted for his past actions

or they can take away what hwang stole from your father - a life for a life

it’s a feeling you’re all too familiar with.

the feeling of something dying inside of you.

you make your choice and then walk out of the room without looking back

not even as the sound of a gunshot resounds behind you.

it takes everything in you not to break down in the corridor, and you barely register jongho’s voice catching up to you as he desperately calls out your name

when he catches you by the wrist and whips you around to face him, all it takes is one look from him to tip you right over the edge, all the suppressed emotions from the last half an hour and past five years pouring out in primal wails and hyperventilating gasps

jongho brings you into him, one hand cradling your face into the nook of his neck, other arm wrapped tightly around your body like it’s your lifeline

he holds you through it all, even as your bodies sink to the ground; a parallel universe of that very night years ago when your fairytale ended

you let yourself sink into the feeling of jongho’s long fingers running through your hair in gentle caresses and his lips kissing away the last of your tears

sensing that you have calmed down, jongho tilts his head down to nudge your nose delicately, and you see your very own sorrow and pain reflected in his eyes

“long time no see,” he jokes softly, and as much as you want to be angry with him, your mouth curves into a small smile

of all the things that you want to say, of all the questions and confessions swirling inside of you, enough to fill a library’s worth of novels, all that escapes your lips in a whisper is, “why?”

jongho doesn’t really know where or how to begin, so he decides to tell the story from the day it all started

the day your father was killed

he explains that that very same night, he had gone to the police station after you had cried yourself to sleep, in a futile attempt to see if they had made any progress on your dad’s case

only to overhear hwang talking on the phone in feverish hushes that he had accidentally killed your father and was going to pin the blame on a fledgling gang

“and don’t say that i should’ve told you, because we both know you would have gone straight to hwang after finding out”

you close your mouth that you had started opening to protest, because jongho’s right

he always did know you better than you did so yourself

you very well would have gotten yourself killed in the crossfire trying to bring justice to your father’s death

he grows sombre, eyes dropping down to your intertwined hands in acknowledgement, “i know it was wrong to keep it from you, but i was so, so afraid of losing you. i didn’t have any other choice”

without the evidence, connections or power to do anything about it, jongho made the decision by himself to join the very gang that was being framed, until he did have the evidence, connections and power to do something about it

a selfish decision, but a decision made out of love

he hopes you forgive him as he looks at you with tears welling in his eyes, “i promised you, remember? that i would be back for you”

your own vision blurs as you hope your next words convey that you understand, “i never forgot. not for a single day. not for a single moment” 

as you he captures your lips with his, desperate and yearning, you recall how five years ago your fairytale ended

it’s not perfect - it’s far from perfect - but tonight, your nightmare ends

and perhaps, it is the beginning of a new fairytale; one where you finally get a happily ever after with your childhood friend and sweetheart, choi jongho

the way i would kiss you, and your amazing brain for writing this masterpiece 👨‍🍳💋

ancient history

—  jeon jungkook x reader — exes to lovers!au + actor!jk + actress!reader | angst + smut + fluff — 12.8k words — NC-17. tw: jk is lowkey an asshole + reader is PETTY + break up mention (they are exes so like) + unprotected sex (y’all pls wrap it b4 u tap it) + possession kink + size kink + impreg kink (?) + mention of when zayn left one direction :(  — there is no way to deny that you and Jungkook have chemistry. the two of you used to be a couple, after all. what happens when after a not-so-amicable breakup the two of you are cast as opposite leads of a movie?

— all the love to @prdshobi​ for reading over this,, she rlly is a champ!!!

— part of the playlist series song: ancient history by set it off

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a/n: y’all…. i have no words… i have this one in my drafts since november and i wrote it in like three days so like i hope you all like this!! ; also, this is a gift. you’ll know why soon

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Dear Mr Gaiman

I was just reading Murder Mysteries again, and I wondered whether anyone has ever turned it into a graphic novel-style format? I feel like it would work really well visually, someone could have a lot of fun with the Silver City

P. Craig Russell adapted it, some years ago. It's a very beautiful book.

You can find it as a stand-alone book, collected with others in Dark Horse's The Neil Gaiman Library Volume 1, and also in an oversized "Gallery" edition reproducing every line of Craig Russell's beautiful black and white art.

indiebound.org

The Neil Gaiman Library Volume 1 | IndieBound.org

indiebound.org

Murder Mysteries and Other Stories Gallery Edition | IndieBound.org