#8makes1teamnet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daybreakx · 2 years

Text

✄ pairing: frenemie’s ex! Seonghwa x gn! reader.

✄ genre: strangers to lovers, angst, fluff.

✄ summary: when you agreed to go on a blind date, you didn’t expect it to be with your friend’s ex, and to make things worse, you didn’t expect to like him that much.

✄ word count: 4.9k

✄ warnings: it is said mc dates both men and women, mentions of food and drinks, hospitals, a broken wrist, mc being called names. this is unedited, please bear with my mistakes.

✄ a/n: this is for the leftovers collab by @dulceamar! this was so much fun, please do check out the other participants’ works!♡ also i am so so sorry this was so late.

✄ rule #2

You are being stood up on Valentine’s Day.

It’s not a big deal, though. Or so you try to make everyone think every time they sneak a glance at you, that ‘oh no, poor thing’ look on their faces before they whisper to their companion. You are being stood up on Valentine’s Day and so what?

Okay, maybe it is a big deal. Because everyone is staring at you, and you know that no matter how many glasses of sparkling water with lemon you order, the server is going to ask you to give up your table if you don’t order actual food. It doesn’t matter how bad they feel for you.

You want to kill San. That’s what you think about as you crush the little pieces of the free bread between two fingers, letting crumbs fall on your lap. To hell with keeping up a good appearance, who’s going to compliment you on it now, anyway? Certainly not San’s friend, the one who was supposed to be here thirty five minutes ago, attending the blind date which the former set up for you two.

Things always go wrong when you accept your friends’ attempts at getting you a partner. You had fallen victim to this project more than a couple times, when they promised they had found ‘just the right person’ for you. The first one was a guy who couldn’t and wouldn’t stop talking about himself at the dinner Mina set up for the two of you—which he made you pay for, along with his Uber back home. And then texted you that you weren’t as good looking as Mina had promised, so it was better that you never spoke again.

The next time it was a girl. She was pretty and you had a lot of things in common, she was funny and thought you attractive as well. But, she was also extremely in love with her ex. Yes you were attractive, but her ex had the prettiest eyes. Of course you were smart, but her ex had published articles in important magazines. And then she cried about her break up while you held her hand and ordered ice cream delivery for both of you.

But at least neither had put you through the humiliation of being stood up on the one holiday that celebrates love and looks down on people like you: single, loveless people.

“I am so sorry I’m late there was–” there’s a guy standing opposite you, one hand gripping the back of the chair tightly while he holds a small bouquet of half withered roses in the other. “y/n?”

You look up from the very angry, already three paragraph long text you’re writing to San. You guess he knows your name because San had to tell him, obviously. But there’s that particular way he says it that immediately has your eyes widening. There has to be thousands of people who share your name, and thousands who share his. So what are the chances that the guy who is standing in front of you, your date, is your friend’s ex?

“Oh,” you mutter, standing up awkwardly. Suddenly overly self-conscious about your crumb-filled lap. “Hi, Seonghwa.”

You understand why San has no idea why this is a problem. He barely knows Eunhee, he never saw her with Seonghwa, probably… He wouldn’t do this on purpose. Even you barely saw Seonghwa with Eunhee. Their relationship was lightning quick and pretty intense, if you are to believe Eunhee, who has a flair for the dramatic, and maybe to threading bits of lies in the big panorama of what actually happened.

You know Seonghwa from the couple of times he picked Eunhee up at work. The exchanges between you being a couple of ‘Hi, how are you?’s on too long lift rides to yours and Eunhee’s shared office.

“Sorry I’m late,” he repeats, the same recognition shining in his eyes. “I–there was a lot of work to do and–” Seonghwa doesn’t like throwing out excuses, but it’s the truth. And he already feels bad enough about making you wait.

“It’s alright,” you soothe, “I know.”

Seonghwa is on his way to become a Cardiologist, which already keeps him busy enough. You remember Eunhee complaining about it, how the only thing that matters to him is the hospital and other people’s hearts. Not hers.

You're surprised he’s even out of the hospital on Valentine’s Day. Guessing the doctors who have a higher ranking than he does are the ones who can leave.

He hands you the flowers, wincing as a few pink petals fall to the ground in a flutter. This is a mess, he knows. “Please,” he gestures to the chair.

“Actually,” you say, your lip moving slightly to the left, in a wince. This is inappropriate, isn’t it? There’s some kind of rule somewhere that says you’re not supposed to date your friends’ exes. The thought that those kinds of rules only apply to people in High School flashes through your mind, but you know it’s not like that. And Eunhee would never forgive you for this. “I think I should go.”

The people around you, the ones who have witnessed the night unfold, pause. They’re not even discreet about it, leaving the food halfway to their mouths to give you an ‘are you serious right now?’ look. They saw you on the brink of tears, drinking your sorry sparkling water and chewing on small pieces of bread, only to have a perfectly good looking guy finally show up and reject him.

You finally stare back at them. Because you’re not embarrassed anymore and frankly, they need to start minding their own business. It’s Valentine’s Day for goodness sake, can’t they focus on themselves? There’s probably an engagement ring hidden in tiramisu out there, you’re not supposed to be the main focus.

Seonghwa doesn’t think of himself as a mind reader. If he did—or if he was one— his personal relationships wouldn’t fail as often as they do. But he knows what you’re thinking even before you voice it: Eunhee. He is Eunhee’s ex, and you are Eunhee’s friend and there has to be some kind of rule somewhere that says you two can’t fraternize.

“Please stay,” he pleads gently. He’s already done the most to ruin your night, and he doesn’t want you to go without making it up to you at least a little bit. And he knows wilted flowers are definitely not the way. “Let’s have dinner,” he finally notices the way the customers around are staring at the two of you and another pang of guilt goes through him. “Friendly dinner.”

You half-smile at his words, knowing he’s trying to take any implication off this whole situation. This is stupid, you’re grown-ups, these things are not supposed to matter, right? But then again, you remember Eunhee holding a Kleenex box against her chest while she told you about the break-up on your lunch break.

“Sure,” you finally sit back down, leaving the flowers on one side of the table, more petals flying down to the ground. You can only guess how many hours Seonghwa has been working judging by how tired he looks, he deserves a break and a nice meal. “The bread’s really good,” you nod towards the almost empty basket between you two, a small on your lips again.

This elicits a laugh from Seonghwa before he gives you an apologetic look from above his menu. “I’m so sorry I was late.”

You shrug. “I only accept apologies—” ‘in cash’ is the ending that you tend to use with Mina and San. “–In dessert.”

Sure, you can be friendly with Seonghwa. Being friends is not the kind of thing that’s forbidden. Plus, he is friends with San. How come you never actually met him if he’s friends with San?

“Deal,” Seonghwa smiles, and before anything else can be added, someone actually finds an engagement ring hidden in the tiramisu, and the restaurant is flooded with clapping. The world falls back on course. It’s Valentine’s Day and love is to be celebrated.

“So,” Eunhee plops down in her spinning chair, eyes barely leaving the screen of her phone to look at you, hinting she’s in fact talking to you. “How was your blind date?”

“It was okay,” you smile, still typing on your laptop. “It actually–”

“You’ll never guess what?” she interrupts, spinning once. “Yena invited Seonghwa to her Valentine’s Day party.”

“Oh,” you know your turn to tell your story is over before it has begun, and you’re somehow glad especially by the immediate mention of the ex-boyfriend you saw last night. “Did he go?”

You want her to say no more than anything. Because what if that meant he was late to your dinner because he was at said party? One that Yena and Eunhee made a point of speaking about in front of you constantly, only to never extend an invitation.

“It’s so painfully obvious they want us back together. Like, why would you invite him otherwise?”

“But did he go?” You question again, the typing finally stopping.

“Well, no,” Eunhee lets out a sigh, rolling her eyes. “He was probably at that stup– at work.”

“Right,” you nod, fingers hovering above the keys on your laptop. “And do you want him? Back I mean.”

Eunhee seems to consider this for a second. Enough for you to feel a rock drop from your throat to your stomach, settling in there with the weight of guilt.

“Do you know how much money doctors earn a year?” She questions, eyes back on her phone as she taps away rapidly.

“A lot?” You try, wondering where this question comes from.

“A lot,” she nods, puckering her lips in a thoughtful gesture. “And I think it’s time I start looking out for my future, you know? You never have enough money.”

She’s right, though. Money can never really be enough, especially if you come from a middle-class family and you’re neck deep in school debt. Which is not her case, at all. Eunhee’s family is New Money, her mother created some magical skincare line when Eunhee was a child and the rest was history. But you guessed she kind of felt that, if she became rich overnight, the opposite could happen just as fast.

You shrug. “I guess, you’re right.”

There are two knocks on your door and Yena’s head pops through before either of you can tell her to come in.

“Are you ready to start working?” She tells cheerfully. “It’s my turn to be on the video.”

You groan internally. Not because Yena wants to be on the video, but because you hate making them. However the boom of those silly short videos did earn you a bonus a couple months ago, so you keep them coming for the sake of also keeping your job.

“Let’s do it!” Eunhee joins in Yena’s excitement, both smiling mischievously at you. “Come on y/n, the long face won’t look good on camera!”

“I don’t want to be on camera,” you whine, taking your phone from the desk. “But let’s go.”

You have a few unopened messages, from San and Mina and one unregistered number. You decide to deal with all of them later, especially with San who you’re having lunch with to discuss last night.

“Well, I don’t see what the problem is,” San shrugs, looking over his shoulder to check if your food is finally on the way. “Did you like Seonghwa?”

Of course you liked Seonghwa. He was sweet and attentive and paid for the whole dinner. After the initial awkwardness there wasn’t another such moment, he spent a good twenty minutes drawing a very accurate depiction of the human heart on a napkin to explain the latest case they got at the hospital, and when it was your turn to talk about your job he didn’t treat it as anything other than the most interesting thing he could possibly think of.

“It is a problem, because it’s kind of a rule” you groan again, not surprised he doesn’t get it. “Just like, you can’t date your best friend’s brother OR your brother’s best friend.”

“That’s stupid,” San rolls his eyes, “Those are rom-com rules, y/n. They’re needed for the plot, this is real life.”

“Those kinds of things still apply,”

“We’re not in high school,” San shakes his head, already over this conversation. “Look, I had no idea he was your coworker’s ex. If it bothers you so much, then don’t see him again. Even if this was the only date that has worked for either of you in a while.”

“What did he tell you?”

“I’m not going to tell you if you’re going to be in your teen drama episode,” he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Fine. Teen drama episode is over,” you smile, raising your eyebrows. “What did he say?”

Seonghwa doesn’t have the greatest luck when it comes to dating. Sure he’s had his fair share of partners, from high school to college, to residency…Well, that doesn’t matter. The point is he doesn’t have good luck. His relationships always end. Whether on good or bad terms also comes with a tendency, which inclines towards everything being his fault.

Whether it’s his job, or that lack of connection that eventually leads to trouble, he hasn’t managed to maintain a relationship for longer than 6 months.

Eunhee was not the exception.

Seonghwa had been extremely attracted to her when they met. She was nice and sweet, and beautiful, of course. But as their relationship progressed, Seonghwa realized they might not be as compatible as he thought at first. He didn’t like it when his relationships failed, but at some point, when the ultimatum came and Eunhee told him it was either her or his career, he had to choose the one he’d known the longest.

He felt bad about it of course, especially with all the heat he’d gotten from her and her friends on social media about how he only cared about his career and never about other people’s feelings. He’d stepped away from the dating scene enough to let San convince him of going on a blind date, and surprisingly he had loved it.

But you hadn’t called him back.

He’d sent you flowers the day after the date and texted you after getting your number from San. Seonghwa felt like giving you a call directly may be a little invasive so he’d suggested you let him know when you could talk. But it hadn’t happened.

Maybe karma was finally reaching him, he’d liked you a lot, and now it seemed like you didn’t like him one bit.

Then, what were you doing at the hospital he worked at?

“y/n?”

You look up from the ground, eyes lightening recognition. “Oh, hi Seonghwa,”

“Are you okay?” His thoughts about your date finally flying away. “Are you hurt?”

You are in the ugly yellow chairs in the waiting room, hands wrapped around your phone as your foot taps on the ground. “I’m fine. I’m just here waiting for someone,” your eyes wander to the ER room, where Gaeun is.

The intern at your publicity company is hardworking enough that, trying to finish the job as fast as possible, she fell from a ladder and broke her wrist. And you had to join her on the trip to the hospital because you were the only one who wasn’t too squeamish about her broken hand.

“Is everything okay? Do you want me to ask for an update?” Seonghwa suggests once again, scanning you as if to prove you’re not really hurt.

“It’s our intern, she broke her wrist today at work, an unfortunate accident while cleaning up a set.” You explain calmly, giving Seonghwa a faint smile.

You’re grateful he’s offering, but you’re also a little anxious about his presence. Mostly because you’re embarrassed about ghosting him. It wasn’t on purpose, though. After Valentine’s Day, the company wanted you to hurry and go on to the next campaigns quickly, Spring and Easter were a lot of work.

“Do you want a coffee while you wait?” Seonghwa offers next, hands going inside the pockets of his white coat. You don’t really want to take his whole appearance in detail, he’s dangerously handsome as it is. “The cafeteria is not bad at all.”

“Aren’t you busy?” You question, but you’re already getting up from your chair. You could use the caffeine and the company, even if you’re afraid it might be awkward.

Seonghwa shakes his head before gesturing for you to lead the way down the hall.

Your nerves ease as you sit on the steel chair and Seonghwa deposits a cup of black coffee in front of you. Gaeun is getting a cast and her sister is on the way to the hospital, things are starting to look up.

“Sorry about your friend,” Seonghwa says, emptying a sugar packet on his coffee. “Must have been scary.”

“It was. But she will be okay, right?” you raise your eyebrows at him and he nods with a small smile. “She’ll be getting a few days off too.”

“That’s great,”

“Look, Seonghwa,” you start, your mouth in a slight wince, “I’m really sorry about completely ghosting you. The job excuse is lame, but it’s true, I’m just flooded. It’s February 18th and we’re already behind.”

“It’s okay, really. I know I didn’t make the greatest impression at our date,” he cringes, looking down at the table. “I’m really sorry about it.”

“I had a great time, it wasn’t that,” you assure, smiling at him. “I also really liked the flowers, Eun—” you stop yourself from mentioning Eunhee a little too late. She was obsessed with the flowers, taking around 20 pictures to post on her Instagram. What she didn’t tell you is that she wanted to get a reaction out of Seonghwa by doing so.

“I’m glad you liked them, and that you had a good time too, even after how messy it started.” Seonghwa chose to ignore the mention of his ex-girlfriend.

San said Seonghwa enjoyed the date too, and insisted on how ridiculous it was that you let a former relationship, one that hadn’t even lasted long enough, get in the way of getting to know Seonghwa more.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

You don’t want any more blind dates, you don't want to go through the whole process of getting to know someone and finding out your friends had got it wrong again, or matching with a person on a dating app just to realize they’d been lying about their real personality all along.

“Would you like to have coffee another time? Outside of here?” you ask, leaving your now empty cup on the table. “Don’t get me wrong, the coffee is good, but I don't really like hospitals.”

Seonghwa chuckles. “I would like that, yes. I promise to be on time.”

“Just promise to try your best,” you shake your head in amusement, “And remember apologies come in dessert.”

You tell yourself you keep it private because everything in the world is already public enough as it is. People can see where you went to school just by finding your Facebook profile, they can know your real time location via Instagram, they learn some of your deepest thoughts if they scroll through your Twitter likes.

But this is just Seonghwa and yours.

It’s mid May now, and you’ve been seeing each other nonstop after sharing the hospital coffee. He tries his best, just like he promised, to make it on time every time you have a date and you try your best not to forget to text him back. And so far, it’s working out perfectly fine.

“Oh y/n, please let us use it!” Yena begs, touching a red petal with the tip of her index finger. “We will get it back to you in one piece.”

“I don’t know, they seem fragile. I would like to keep them here,” you try to sound as reasonable as possible, which isn’t enough to get through Yena and Eunhee once they have an idea in mind.

They’re both on their way to become influencers and finally leave this job. Eunhee has the upper-hand with her makeup tutorials and the sponsorship from her mom’s company, but Yena isn’t too far behind. And they’re both always looking for free props to use on their videos.

“Is this still the guy from the blind date?” Eunhee asks, cocking her head to observe the flowers up close. It’s the fourth bouquet you get at work. “Seems like that worked out pretty well.”

You nod, scrolling down the proposals you have for the next campaign. “I really like him,” you say absentmindedly.

“So can we use them?” Yena insists, “It’s just a couple pictures!”

“I’d rather not,” you say again, “Please just leave them where they are.”

Yena sighs in defeat. “Alright, thank you y/n! They’re beautiful, so I get it.”

Gaeun, who still holds her hurt wrist against her chest, knocks on the door. “y/n, the boss wants to see you.”

“Coming,” you smile at her, you feel somehow guilty that she’s still injured although it was you who told her to wait for someone to hold the ladder for her that day.

When you come back to your office, your red roses are gone, in their place there’s the note written by Seonghwa himself half-opened and a free sample from Eunhee’s mom’s skin care line.

You don’t even know how to react to this other than throw Eunhee’s ‘gift’ to the other side of the room. She always gets what she wants, it doesn’t matter how many times she’s told no. You don’t even linger on the fact that she read your private note, and wasn’t even decent enough to pretend like she hadn’t.

This is the first time you relish the fact that you are dating Seonghwa, and not her. No matter how much she wants him and how much she still tries to get his attention, he’s yours. The thought grosses you out right away, you’re not like this.

You keep your relationship private because it’s the right thing to do, but also deep down, you still want to spare Eunhee’s feelings.

As if she deserved it.

+++

“What’s wrong?” Seonghwa asks as you lie your head on his lap, the thing about really strong emotions is that they give you a headache, and all you want is to close your eyes and not think about work, or Eunhee, or anything other than your boyfriend’s hands on your hair.

“Just a bad day at work,” you mutter, lowering the volume on the TV. Your apartment is closer to the hospital than his, and he’s frequently here after his shifts. “How was yours?”

“It was okay,” he shrugs. It’s what he does when he’s had a hard day too, probably a complicated case with a bad ending. “What do you want for dinner?”

You sit up, stretching. “I don’t know, pizza?” you yawn. Once your eyes stop watering, they focus on the red roses across the room. They’re far less than Seonghwa sent you this morning, and you have no idea what happened to them. Maybe Eunhee tossed them in the trash, or simply ripped the petals apart and kept them somewhere.

Seonghwa didn’t seem to notice this, or if he did, he said nothing about it, probably guessing that the trip from the office to your house had been what mangled them.

“Maybe we should go out,” Seonghwa suggests, resting his chin on your shoulder. “That should clear our minds a little,”

You smile leaning against him. “You’re right.” But you don’t want to change, you're already in your house attire of a faded shirt and extremely loose pants.

“Don’t even think about it,” Seonghwa laughs, “We’re getting street food and then coming back, and you look gorgeous anyway.”

You let out a low whine, but you feel too lazy to change, and the promise of warm fish cake already has your mouth watering. Also he just called you gorgeous and there’s nothing else that will convince you to change. “Let’s go then.”

You wish the trip on the elevator was a little longer as you lean against Seonghwa and he presses his lips to your hair. But sadly, it comes to an end and you have to settle for holding his hand as you walk down the street to your favorite street food stand.

The night is warm and you don’t need to be standing so close together, yet you huddle up while chewing on your food. You are glad to have Seonghwa, and you still regret the ugly thought you had earlier. You like him, it’s not because him being with you means he’s not with Eunhee. You should have never thought about that.

“What are you doing?” you laugh as Seonghwa points his phone towards you. “Stop!”

“I’m taking a picture of you,” the sound of the camera can’t be heard above the traffic, and Seonghwa seems immediately satisfied with the result, so he doesn’t shove the phone in your face again. “There, I sent it to you.”

Your phone buzzes, and you know it’s him but you don’t want to check it right now. “If I look ugly…” you begin, but he cuts you off with a gesture of his hand.

“You could never look ugly.”

You are shunned the moment you step into the office. Even Gaeun looks awkward when she tells you there’s another impromptu meeting happening today before she runs to the coffee corner, to fill Eunhee’s pink mug with extra sweet coffee. The rest of the employees around, who normally say ‘good morning’ or ‘nice to see you’ are too quiet as you walk between their cubicles on the way to your office.

Yena is the first one to see you as you arrive at the door, and with a bitter face, she rushes to close the door in your face. But Eunhee, between what seems like a sob and hiccup stops her.

“What’s going on?” you ask, stepping inside. Although you are starting to have a pretty good idea about it. Your phone buzzed nonstop this morning, but you were running late for work and honestly, had it been a matter of life and death, they would have probably called.

“I cannot believe you have the guts to show up like this!” Yena yells, throwing both arms in the air. “And pretend like you don’t know anything, seriously, y/n? Are you that much of a jerk?”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” you let the wave of annoyance pass through, you cannot engage so quickly. You need to find your footing first. “Are you okay Eunhee?”

“What do you think?” Yena bites again, “After you stole her boyfriend, what do you think?!”

Eunhee lets out a wail once again and wipes her eyes with the tissue she’s holding in her hand. “How could you?” she sobs.

“There are rules, y/n. I can’t believe you are such a scum!” Yena is yelling again, and with the door open half of the people outside turn to stare at you.

“Hey!” you finally raise your voice too, “Don’t ever call me that again.”

“That’s what you are, how could you do this to Eunhee? You know how much she loves Seonghwa, you are the worst.”

“They weren’t even dating anymore,” you say in a low voice. There are rules, you know there are rules. “I thought–”

“You just wanted to take him for yourself because you’re jealous of me,” Eunhee gets up from her spinning chair, still holding the Kleenex box against her chest. “You are so jealous of me, it’s obvious. You always want everything I have.”

“Listen, Eunhee–”

“No, she doesn’t have to listen to you! You did this out of spite, you’re a horrible friend.”

It wasn’t only Eunhee and Yena you had kept your relationship from, the rest of your friends knew too that you were seeing someone but only San knew who it was. Because you were afraid that, once they learned about Seonghwa and Eunhee’s history, they would call you that: A horrible friend. And maybe that’s what you were.

“And where the hell is Gaeun?” Yena scowls, wrapping one arm around Eunhee. “Come on sweetie, let’s wash your face and I’ll see where that girl is with your coffee.”

“Eunhee, I didn’t mean–” you start but Yena cuts you off again by shoving the palm of her hand in front of your face.

“Save it.”

Eunhee’s shoulders shake as Yena leads her out of the room, but then she stops on her tracks, sending Yena on her way to find Gaeun.

“Eunhee, can we talk about this?”

Her reddened eyes fixate on you, but no more tears fall. “You always wanted my leftovers, y/n.” there is a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “So enjoy them, while they last.”

Seonghwa’s instagram is open on her laptop, and you see the picture he took of you last night with some lyrics about how life is brighter by your side as the caption.

You can’t bring yourself to smile, not when you feel 10 pairs of eyes on your back. Not when you’re the newly exposed villain.

Rules exist for a reason, at least that’s what you told San, but you couldn’t follow a simple one.

646 notes · View notes

escapewriter · 2 years

Text

part 5 - word for word

chai latte

yunho x reader

genre : fluff, angst, humor, smau, fake dating au, strangers to lovers

warnings : swearing

prev : next

masterlist

synopsis

⤷ school was finally out which meant you had time to relax and hang out with your best friend. but everything about your laid back summer was put on hold the moment you agreed to help out a stranger and become his temporary summer love.

#8makes1teamnet #ateez #ateez smau #ateez social media au #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez yunho #ateez jeong yunho #atz #atz yunho #atz jeong yunho #yunho #jeong yunho #chai latte au

177 notes · View notes

starlitmark · 2 years

Text

Pairing: dad!Seonghwa x mom!reader

Genre: fluff

Rating: PG

Warnings: parenting, mentions of pregnancy

Word Count: 1k

Note: I know this was meant to be uploaded on Sunday but I got pretty sick then traveled for a whole day so we’re getting it today instead. Happy late Father’s Day!!

It was rare you actually got to sleep in with a toddler in the house. So when you wake up with the sun in your eyes and a faceful of your husband’s hair you’re pleasantly surprised. When you try to roll over to look at your phone he groans but you manage to turn enough to check the time, 8:48 am, honestly not bad considering your daughter normally is awake and ready to run around by 8am. The moment you pull too far away you feel Seonghwa’s arms wrap around your middle and tug you back to his body. He whined something unintelligible and you just giggled and cuddled back into the crook of his neck. Your fingers run through his long black locks and he makes a noise of appreciation.

“Are you ready to wake up yet?” you question softly.

He mumbles something that sounds like a ‘no’ and holds you tighter. You giggle at him and continue playing with his hair. Just as you notice him starting to fall back to sleep you hear a small knock on your door. You knew your daughter was on the other side of the door waiting for you.

“Seonghwa let me up.” you gently pat his arm.

“No, let me hold you.” he groans, voice still very riddled with sleep.

“Let me go get Eunji and then we can all cuddle together for a little bit.” you compromise.

He groans again but lets you go. He may act like he’s annoyed by the suggestion but it’s quite the opposite, he loves having your daughter stuck between you early in the morning. It’s an easy way to get family time together but also keeps the morning rather peaceful, unlike the days when he runs out the door to get to schedules on time.

The moment you open the door your eyes fall down on your small daughter. Her eyes look slightly watery immediately setting your ‘mom instincts’ off. You pick her up and hold her close to you, standing still for a moment you just hold her.

“Are you okay baby?” you question softly, rocking back and forth in your place.

She nods shortly, “Just want to cuddle with you and daddy.” she admits.

Smiling at her request you put her down and usher her towards Seonghwa (who is still not awake fully yet). You follow after, climbing back into your side of the bed. Your eyes follow Eunji’s head of hair as she finally makes it to her dad’s side of the bed. Her small hand reaches to grab onto something, anything, to help her climb onto her dad. Seonghwa jokingly pretends to be fast asleep still while Eunji tugs on his arm repeatedly. You giggle watching the interaction between them and smile brightly when you hear a surprised squeal from your daughter. Seonghwa had suddenly wrapped an arm around her and pulled her up onto the bed. Quickly wrapping his arms around her, she smiles brightly at her father, the rays of the sun gently shining on both of them.

“Did you sleep good, baby?” he smiles.

She nods at him, “I didn’t like waking up on my own though,” she pouts, “like when daddy wakes me up.”

“Yeah? What about when mommy gets you?”

“I like that too!” she enthuses.

Despite her burst of energy she tucks her face against Seonghwa’s neck and makes the noise she always does when she’s sleepy. Seonghwa smiles sweetly at her and starts rubbing her back in soothing motions. You get comfortable next to them and rest your head by his shoulder, hopefully avoiding disturbing your daughter in any way. It’s odd that she’s still sleepy when it’s just past 9am but you won’t fight it. Your only worry is that it might interfere with her nap time.

“I think coming to practice with me yesterday really tired her out.” Seonghwa jokes quietly.

“Probably,” you smile, “she loves going though. The more time she has with you the happier she is.”

“She loves you a lot too.” he reassures

“I know, she’s very much so a daddy’s girl though.”

“Yeah, she is.” he muses, “I really wish I was around more often, I feel bad leaving you girls home when I go on tour or something.”

“You should give us more credit. We’re strong girls.”

“I know you are.” he chuckles, placing a kiss on your head.

You reach up and start playing with his hair. Your daughter lightly snoring in his ear, he’s made it clear on many occasions though that he doesn’t mind it. It just lets him know that she’s sleeping peacefully. You both stay quiet for a while just looking at each other and enjoying the peaceful morning. The rays of the sun still beat down on him gently and you can’t help but think about how ethereal he looks like this. First thing in the morning, no makeup or hair styling done. Just smiling with your daughter happily sleeping on his chest, he looks the most beautiful in these moments in your opinion.

“Hwa,” you whisper.

“Yeah, baby?” he responds immediately.

“How do you feel about another one? I love Eunji more than life itself but still, what do you think about another baby?”

“Anything with you and I’ll be the happiest man alive or dead.” he smiles, “Do you want another one?” “Well, maybe there’s already one on the way.” you smile softly.

“Are you serious, babe?” he beams rather loudly, “Another baby? It’s happening now?” “Shh,” you giggle reminding him that Eunji is asleep on him, “Yes, I just got the positive test a few days ago.”

You calm down your now very excited and very awake husband. The rest of the morning was spent talking about your hopes and excitement for the new baby. About Eunji and how much she’s grown in the past four years. How you’re so excited to see her and your unborn baby grow each day and how beautiful it will all be. Even about how the two of you will continue to grow and learn with the help of your children.

Networks: @8makes1teamnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @daystiny @raibebe @catscoffeeandkpop @notbeforelong @ericssmile @bluejaem @00solarsmiles @leneswrld @stayinzencity @doggienoo @jeonqquk @spectracully @jaemcupcake @softforqiankun @markistheloveofmylife @winwindose @markleepooh @im-just-trying-to-survive-man @http-lovelyknow @cloudnitee @baekhyunstruly @umbralhelwolf @teti-menchon0604 @sanraes @justforyookihyun @asyamonet22 @rdiamond2727 @brattybunfornct @joanne00 @at1ny0 @furryllamas @pandabunbuns @justanotherkpopstanlol @masterpiecejoonie @soobin-chois @mythicalamphitrite @captainskat-10242018

#8makes1teamnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fluff

162 notes · View notes

atiny-piratequeen · 2 years

Text

6:15 PM

❀Pairing: Yeosang x San, Background OT8

❀Genre: Smut, Humor

❀AU: Night Shift Verse, Office Au, Established Poly Relationship

❀Rating: 18+

❀WC: 1.6k

❀Tw: Swearing

❀Sw: Nude Massage, Prostate Massage, Handjob, Temperature Play, Blowjob, Sex Toy, Cum Swallowing, Slight Exhibitionism, Body Worship Undertones, Hair Pulling

©atiny-piratequeen 2022. do not repost, translate, or use my works.

❀ AO3 | Taglist Form | Commissions

❀Network Pings: @kdiarynet @kwritersworld @8makes1teamnet @k-vanity

“I should thank Seonghwa-hyung for teaching me how to do this, shouldn’t I?”

San’s voice is a deep hum as he slowly kneaded and worked out the tension knots in Yeosang’s back. The only verbal response he got was a muffled whimper into a pillow. Slowly, a smile came to his face as he kissed between his shoulder blades.

“You’re hiding your voice again. I think it’s really cute when you do that.”

San pressed down on a particular spot, and a pop followed by a surprised noise came from Yeosang’s body before a deep rumble followed it. San’s eyes turned into crescents as his smile grew, tossing one leg over Yeosang’s hips. He lifted his body and moved with a near methodical slowness, settling himself on Yeosang’s ass as he continued to massage him, thumbs pressing into the muscle, rolling in small circles that gradually got wider.

“C-can you move a bit lower, please?”

San’s hands drifted down to the small of Yeosang’s back, kneading the small of his back. Once more, he was met with a muffled moan as he worked and a thought came to his mind.

“Turn around.”

Yeosang lifted his head in confusion.

“You’re sitting on-”

San silently lifted his hips, smiling sweetly as Yeosang got the hint, turning around and repositioning himself, holding San’s hips out of instinct. San sat down, noticing the way Yeosang squeezed his hips before not so subtly trying to shift him upwards to sit on his pelvis.

San tightened his thighs around his waist and sent him a devilishly sweet smile at the deer in headlights look on Yeosang’s face.

“Ah. What do you think you’re doing? I have to give you a massage. You’ve had a long and hard day in the office today, and on your birthday, no less. The least I can do is help you unwind my love~”

Yeosang glanced down at San’s hips before meeting his eyes.

“I really appreciate the massage, I do, but my-”

“-cock is rock hard, yes. Don’t worry. I’ll get to that.”

The tips of his ears went red and Yeosang promptly zipped his lips, moving his hands away from San’s hips and watching as the slightly younger man continued kneading and massaging him, admiring his body silently. Yeosang’s eyes never left San’s face, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“You’re staring.”

“I am. You working out with Jongho and Hoseok is paying off. Even if it is making you all tense and tight.” San met his gaze and booped his nose before moving back to his arms, tracing his fingers over the stretch marks the new muscle had created. Yeosang shuddered but relaxed into the pillow, nearly falling asleep from San’s talented hands until he shifted off of his lap and moved one of his oiled-up hands down to his cock.

The blonde’s eyes shot open-when the hell had he even closed them?-and he looked down, watching San slowly stroke him as he leaned forward, kissing the shell of his ear.

“The others should be back with your birthday cake and dinner in about half an hour or something like that. Are you ready for the fun part of this massage?”

“It’s my birthday, that’s part of the gift, right?”

A spark of chaos crossed San’s expression before he smiled and leaned in once more.

“You’re lucky your birthday is in the middle of the week or I’d ride you into the sunset but then we’d both have to miss work. Stay here.” He got up and darted out of the room, leaving Yeosang staring at his retreating form.

When he came back, he had a toy in his hand and two small bowls. Yeosang lifted his head to see better, realizing one bowl had ice, and the other had more warm oil. The toy was a small massager.

He watched San pop an ice cube into his mouth, blowing a kiss in his direction before he slicked his fingers up with the oil, slowly easing one into Yeosang as he held the vibrator onto the underside of his cock.

“Fuck-”

“Ah, don’t cover your mouth.”

Yeosang caught himself mid-motion, spreading his legs and bunching the sheets under his hand instead. San smiled and kissed his hip teasingly, cold tongue tracing i love you’s and little hearts along Yeosang’s skin every now and again.

“You’re t-teasing me on my birthday?”

“Ah, no. I’m massaging you on your birthday. You can’t rush these things, Sangie. I thought you were one of the more patient ones~” San teased, slowly working his finger in and out of Yeosang, bringing the vibrator down towards the base of his cock. Yeosang whined and twitched again, his cock brushing against San’s cheek.

San let out a faux sigh and turned his head, blowing cool air onto Yeosang’s cock and smiling as he pulled the sheets.

“You’re lucky it’s your birthday. I’ll be nice even if you’re impatient.” He wrapped his lips around the crown of Yeosang’s cock, pressing what was left of his ice cube against his cock with his tongue as he added a second finger. He moved the massager down to Yeosang’s balls, humming around his cock as the birthday boy’s hand found its way into his hair, slowly guiding him up and down.

His lips fell open while his eyes slipped closed, the quiet, restrained moans from before growing in volume as San took him all the way, settling and stilling with Yeosang fully down his throat. He ignored the slight pull to his hair, watching Yeosang’s face.

His eyes remained closed, his chest rising and falling harshly as his thighs twitched at either side of San’s head. He didn’t pull his hair anymore, realizing San had no intention of rushing, despite the fact that Yeosang could feel his orgasm creeping up, especially after the man began curling his fingers up in come hither motions.

“F-fuck! San wait-”

San swallowed around him, rolling the pads of his fingers over Yeosang’s prostate, the vibrator still buzzing against his balls. To his credit, Yeosang still kept himself from bucking and thrusting down San’s throat, but it was becoming incredibly evident he wouldn’t last much longer.

San could hear the distant sound of voices in the house, and a small glance at the bedside clock brought a hum from him that made Yeosang twitch and whimper.

“-aybe upstairs?”

San purred and began moving his head, curling and massaging Yeosang faster than before, watching as his muscles flexed and trembled. Yeosang was a bit too polite for his own good, San thought. He could fuck his throat raw right here and San would probably thank him for it, but for now, he focused on this cock humming and swallowing around Yeosang.

“S-San pull up, I’m gonna cum.”

A huff left San’s nose, akin to a laugh as he doubled down his efforts, pressing his fingers hard against his prostate, eyes narrowing at Yeosang in offense even though the other man’s eyes were still tightly closed.

“Happy birth-”

“San!”

San felt Yeosang’s cock throb as he came down his throat, with Hongjoong stopping short, wide-eyed as he held a cake in his hands. Wooyoung and Yunho nearly knocked him over as they struggled to stop their walking, bumping into him as they watched San slowly pull off of Yeosang’s cock. Jongho and Mingi peeked around Yunho’s frame and Seonghwa leaned against the doorframe, head tilted to the side as San made a show of showing them the load he had in his mouth before swallowing, pulling his fingers out of Yeosang.

“Um…make a wish?” Hongjoong blinked, a bit flustered himself as Yeosang hid his face, beet red.

“S-sorry!”

Seonghwa laughed and slowly began removing his watch and rings.

“Oh, don’t apologize. I’m sure we can find fun things to do for the birthday boy after we eat cake. Or should we eat you instead?” The mocha-haired man raised a brow and Wooyoung grinned.

“San already got started.”

“Give him a few minutes, I’m sure he’ll be ready for a few more.” Mingi chimed in and Yeosang blushed and sat up, looking at San in concern.

“Did I hurt your throat?”

“No, actually you could fuck my face till I cry and I’d appreciate that just as much. Maybe more, actually.”

Seonghwa clapped and sent them a smile as Hongjoong looked from the cake to the bed, unsure if he should come closer or let Yeosang recover.

“As much as I love hearing San talk about being a cock hungry pain slut, we have candles to blow out before blowing Yeosang’s back out. San’s birthday is right around the corner for that.”

Yeosang hid his face once more, groaning as Wooyoung, Mingi, and San burst into laughter. Hongjoong smiled and came closer, holding the cake up. Yeosang peeked from between his fingers, looking at the cake. He noticed the small white chocolate mascot in the center with the flower on his head and smiled, looking up at them all despite the blush on his face and his state of undress.

“We love you, Yeosang. Happy birthday, baby.”

Yeosang smiled and lifted his head, accepting kisses from each of his boyfriends before Jongho handed him his slice of cake. His nose scrunched as Wooyoung smudged cake icing on his cheek.

He could feel at least two pairs of eyes on him as he ate, patiently waiting.

It may only be on a Wednesday this year, but they don’t call it hump day for nothing, he supposed.

Maybe he could turn up a bit late tomorrow.

Just a bit.

--------------------------Taglist---------

@kimnamshiks @atiny-dazzlinglight @angel0taiyo @jacksons-goddess-gaia @gettin-a-lil-hanse @daniblogs164 @daisyhwa @yunhofingers @stormiestories @billboard-singer @xlilehx @alliecoady98 @jess-1404 @perfectlysane24 @babiebumm @skmoonchild @netcookie @seomisaho @bangteezbaby @yungiland @serialee @asyamonet22 @drunk-on-hwa @shingisimp @phoenixcode21 @justatiredhuman @dreamyinception-world @soluvcore @twistedsiren @xuxibelle

#fie writes #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #8makes1teamnet #k-vanity #night shift #night shift verse #yeosang smut #san smut #ateez smut #kpop mxm #member x member smut #night shift oneshot #yeosan oneshot #kang yeosang smut #choi san smut #kpop smut

150 notes · View notes

sunlightwoo · 1 year

Text

dangerous

pairing: mingi x g.n reader, some of unknown ateez member x reader

genre: angst | warnings: mentions of the bar, alcohol | rating: pg-16 | wc: 830

plot: you wondered what made him change his mind; why did he have to go away so quickly and so easily? was it because it was you?

a/n: idk what this was,,, and it’s been a while since i last wrote, but hopefully you guys like it!!

song ib: dangerous - madison beer

It’s too loud.

The familiar setting of you coming to this exact bar at least twice a week hits a little too close to home this time around, and the eerie feeling in your gut cannot pinpoint why it does. You had received a text from a friend of yours that you haven’t talked to in a while, unsure as to why he had texted you out of the blue. It wasn’t like he was obligated to still talk to you, when it was you that had broken things off with his best friend; he should’ve cut you off in the first place.

Yunho, however, was a man of wild cards as he had called you on his cell phone, incoherently asking you to pick him up and drop him off at his apartment in exchange for a coffee outing in the morning. You think you shouldn’t decline it in the first place, knowing that it’s the last stretch of final exams for the fall semester, and that you were just one semester away from graduating college.

But you hated this scene.

You currently stand out in the middle of the bar, looking for the tall man that had called you previously in hopes that you could just grab him and go, but nothing could ever prepare you for the sight that you were graced with.

In the corner of the bar you see him, the person that you once thought that you were going to have everything with.

Song Mingi was someone that came into your life almost unexpectedly, gracing his presence into your life at the same time that you had met Yunho. The two had almost come together as a package duo, and the you from years ago would’ve laughed at the idea of you being the one to break things off with the latter. However it was the idea of the future that had scared both you and Mingi that you had finally made a choice for the two of you; to go your separate ways before you can hurt the other.

The breakup was still fresh in your mind, as it had only been three weeks since you had seen them both and the rest of your mutual friend group. You thought that it would’ve been best to distance yourself from them all so that you could take the time to heal and love yourself better, but standing in the middle of this bar made you feel anything but that.

There was someone else in his lap, making out with him and he had been holding them closer to him more than you would’ve liked.

“Are you okay?”

The three words were said from behind you, and for some reason it comforts you in the worst ways possible. You turn to face an old flame of yours, one that you knew was also a victim in this case because from what you heard, he had recently gotten out of a relationship as well. The girl that he used to be with was someone that he told you not to worry about, but in this moment you realize that it was now him who was on your end of the stick.

You wanted to laugh in his face at his question, but you also knew that he once knew you on the back of his hand. He knew that you had been hurting inside, because this was quite possibly your last straw with falling in love with someone; and he had known you were dating for the long run, rather than just in the moment.

“Was it really that easy to let me go?” You whispered harshly, more towards yourself as you looked between Mingi who was now no longer in the spot that you had seen him in, and the person beside you.

The look of pity mixed in with guilt had said everything that you needed to, and maybe tonight was not the night where you could’ve easily picked up the pieces. Maybe you needed more time to heal, and to be away from them because now that you remember it, they were all in one friend group.

One was bound to tell the other sooner or later.

“Y/N…”

“Y/N, there you are!” You hear Yunho say from behind you, and for a moment you think that you were saved by his timing to get you out of the suffocating place, “Are you still okay with driving me back?”

You looked up at the latter with a fake smile, tugging on his sleeve to guide him out carefully as you left your past behind with all the unspoken words between you both. Maybe if you weren’t in such conditions, you could step forward and hear about all the things that had gone wrong between you two.

But for now, you think that it’s better to love yourself first, before you find it even more dangerous to fall in love with someone new.

permanent taglist: @viastro @bbanghoonie @wooyoung-a @pwttychannie @sunwoahkim @karsohn @escapewriter @wooyeouu @0710khj @awfullytiredbuthealing @fylithia @myluv-yeonjun @allorysayshi @nlnkm @jannine00742 @rebsmoonn @jjhmk @beomgyugyu @ja4hyvn @wccycc @kurosism @ahnneyong @bambi-vixey @comic-wanda @black-rose-29 @vatterie @marsophilia @seungkwan-s @sunwooskies @ashxxkook (add yourself to my permanent taglist here!)

cannot tag: @cowboyjaehyun @soobin-chois @kpoploverforever27 @Xoxozainab @allyg-onz @ineedaherosavemenow

#8makes1teamnet #ateezlovenet #kvanity #k-labels #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez angst #ateez drabbles #ateez x reader #song mingi #mingi imagines #mingi scenarios #mingi angst #mingi drabbles

43 notes · View notes

woobly · 2 years

Text

10:46 AM . . . 정우영 !

PAIRING. non idol! wooyoung x gn! reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship au WARNINGS. none WC. 535 words A/N. i've been rlly busy these days as college is now just around the corner so here's a quick read for fellow wommys <3

It was another lazy Saturday for you. Slowly opening your eyes, you immediately shut them again as the sunlight that shines through your bedroom windows and creates shadows on your curtains greets you an aggressive ‘good morning’. You turn around from the bright light to face your boyfriend, only to find an empty space and turned over blanket.

Feeling extremely comfortable under the warmth of your sheets, you sigh as you slowly get up from your bed and walk towards the bathroom. Finding it empty once again, you start wondering where he had gone.

The moment you open your door to your apartment’s hallway, the scent of food immediately greets your senses. Your mind wakes up a little from the smell as you walk towards your kitchen.

“Good morning,”

Wooyoung turns his head around to your croaky voice, chuckling as he sees you smiling with your eyes opening and closing slowly, putting all your body weight on the wall as you leant on it.

“Good morning. I hope you don’t mind me using your kitchen,”

Still feeling sleepy, you simply hum as you walk over to the stove where he was standing, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head on his back.

It hadn’t been long since you both started going out—a few months at best—but long enough for you to be comfortable with showing your affection physically. Wooyoung had always been the more touchy one between the two of you, holding on to your arm and pressing his cheek to yours long before either of you developed any feelings for each other.

It’s not that you didn’t like physical affection; you actually love receiving hugs and any kind of skinship from other people. It’s just that initiating it can be a bit awkward and even scary. However, when it came to certain people, you wouldn’t hesitate to play with their hands (especially if they wore rings) or lean your head on their shoulder.

Basking in your warm presence, albeit a bit heavy from the way you were putting your weight on him, he sighs as he went back to his cooking pot and ladle.

“Slept well?”

You hum again as you deeply breathed in the aroma from the boiling soup.

Without thinking twice, you removed your arms from his waist and slightly lifted his shirt to place your arms underneath and wrap your arms around him again.

“Y/N?”

Opening your eyes, you notice that his arms had stopped moving and his head was turned to the side, eyes looking at your figure. When your mind finally wakes up and realizes that the skin you had been touching wasn’t actually yours, you immediately release him from your grasp.

“Oh! Sorry, I thought that was my stomach,” you chuckle as you moved to stand on his side instead. “Old habits die hard,”

“No no, do that again,” he said nonchalantly as he started moving around again. “I didn’t know you like me that much,”

You scoff as you hit his arm, causing him to laugh and smile brightly. Doing as he says, you wrap your arms around him under his shirt once again, leaning into him as he prepared breakfast for two.

128 notes · View notes

armysantiny · 2 years

Text

22:50 – 홍중 (Hongjoong)

Minnie's notes; so I was initially writing this for my boyfriend...and then shit happened in my own life so I ended up writing it for me too go figure

Looking up from his late-night coffee as the front door opened, the smile that crept onto Hongjoong’s face melted into a concerned frown when he caught onto his boyfriend’s exhausted expression. Setting his mug down and padding his way across to the sofa, Hongjoong reached his hand out, taking y/n’s hand in his own as he waited for his boyfriend to mention what was wrong.

“Work sucked…stupid clients and their stupid demands.” Resting his head against Hongjoong’s shoulder, y/n played with the ends of his sleeves, the pout on his face deepening the longer he thought about his day. Humming in confusion when he was pulled to his feet and gently shooed in the direction of the bedroom, y/n turned to a determined looking Kim Hongjoong.

“I’m confused…”

“You go take a bath and unwind, and I’ll get the living room ready, c’mon, go~!”

Waiting for the last of the popcorn to well, pop, while y/n relaxed in the bath, Hongjoong took another look at his carefully crafted blanket and cushion pile across the sofa and living room floor. It was the epitome of comfort and all that was missing was the popcorn and Hongjoong holding his boyfriend in his arms. Bouncing on his feet while he watched the last few seconds tick by, Hongjoong popped open the microwave door and the now-ready bowl of popcorn to the table, a pleased smile on his face as he looked upon his handiwork. All that was missing was a certain y/n—

“Joong love…did you set all of this up?” His jaw hanging as he took in the sight in front of him, y/n blinked back grateful tears as he wrapped Hongjoong in an impossibly tight hug. Burying his head in the shorter man’s shoulder while Hongjoong pulled him in the direction of the sofa and the mass of blankets, y/n watched in stunned silence as Hongjoong turned on his favourite film.

“We’re watching Pretty Woman?”

“Uh huh! Figured you needed to unwind…and I’m kinda coming round to the film.” Hongjoong admitted, the grin on y/n’s face increasing tenfold.

“I knew it! I told you you’d like the film!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know – watch the film you…”

Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @ultkpopnetwork, @whipped-kpop-creators, @prism-nw, @k-library, @knet-bakery, @kpclub, @ateezlovenet, @8makes1teamnet, @k-mysticsnet

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

Taglist: @teeztheflag, @jeonqquk, @mikailo666, @moonieric, @babyboobean, @blonghoonie, @xavi-in-kpopland | Taglist form

74 notes · View notes

bikerjongho · 2 years

Text

photomeister | jeong yunho

genre: fantasy, adventure, supernatural

characters: vampire photographer!yunho ft. bartender!wooyoung and fae prince!hongjoong

description: In order to help his friend Wooyoung heal, Yunho takes a big risk to frame a bad man using his camera.

word count: 10.2k

warnings: swearing, murder, blood, death, dead bodies

author’s note: SO MANY THINGS ARE HAPPENING. 1) this is the longest fic ive ever written for this acc 2) first fic ive written in so long and it feels so good to write again 3) I wrote this for nanowrimo 4) this is yunho’s long long long belated birthday present. finally the birthday fics are all complete god fucking bless 5) I strongly strongly strongly recommend you read corpsehands first in order to understand some nuances but you can still read this as a standalone (im gonna expand the corpsehands universe and try to write smth for all ateez members). anyways hi again. buckle up. get fucked. enjoy

taglist: @itsapapisongo @mangomingki @irehlevant @blueprint-han @bvlnoriyas @woosansang @yourlocaltimetraveler

part 2 of The Sinisterwise Series; masterlist here

A glass of the reddest Sanguine wine longed for Yunho on the wooden bar table, and the bartender that had made it for him ached similarly.

Wooyoung’s speakeasy job allowed him to talk to all sorts of unique faces, so there was never a shortage of conversation for him to enjoy while working and pouring illegal alcohol for all supernatural beings that knew about this underground establishment. Usually, the interactions filled him with life in the same way he could give life through his hands to corpses – but the death of his Seelie fae friend Helio had grasped him by the hands and had drained him of his vitality. Every time a Seelie fae entered the bar with their insignia pinned onto their cloak, Wooyoung was thrown back into the terrible past, his hands remembering all too vividly the feeling of Helio’s shirt on his fingers when he had gripped it and the color of the blood and bruises that coated Helio when he had laid motionless on the speakeasy floor. All of this haunted him, but what Wooyoung was most preoccupied with were Helio’s last words to him – “you saved me. Wooyoung, how?”

The words had tugged and gnawed at him so much that he couldn’t find it in him to speak to customers joyfully anymore. The truth of the matter was that he hadn’t saved Helio – he had removed his healing hands and had let Death take the reins away from him. He had watched the life leave Helio’s eyes. He had seen the funeral procession in the newspapers. Speakeasy frequenters couldn’t understand where their bubbly and amiable Wooyoung had gone – Helio’s death had broken him, and Wooyoung was helpless to find the pieces to stitch himself together again.

When the noise of the bar died down and customers left, Wooyoung was able to find a break in his schedule. He walked into the bartender’s lounge in the back of the speakeasy. On the table, next to a pile of papers one gust away from being strewn across the floor, was a brand-new candlestick telephone that Wooyoung had purchased with the speakeasy’s net gain of profit they had seen recently. Wooyoung spun the dial to a phone number he knew by heart, put the phone to his ear, and prayed that the recipient would pick up.

Wooyoung bit his lip while the phone buzzed. He had to answer the phone – Wooyoung had gone on months without getting better, and the recipient was one of few people he could trust and believed could make some real closure for him. The recipient couldn’t make Helio alive again, no one could, but perhaps he could be Wooyoung’s hands of revenge in the exact places where Wooyoung’s own hands had failed so fatally. Wooyoung didn’t know what he would do if the recipient wasn’t available.

Another ring. Wooyoung was nervous. Vampires were faster than this.

But then the phone clicked and Yunho’s warm voice was in his ears – “Hello?”

Wooyoung’s eyes welled up. “Yunho,” he said, warmth flooding through his body. “It’s Wooyoung. Yunho, I need your help.”

A few days later, Yunho traversed through a dim and busy street, his black coat whipping against the autumn wind. The rain didn’t help the dimness of the street, or the fact that the wind was pushing the rain onto him, but Yunho trudged on in his leather-clad boots. He slid by warlocks gossiping about potions and avoided werewolves that were on their way home for evening dinner, searching for the alleyway that gave the entrance to Wooyoung’s speakeasy. One hand held his umbrella and the other clasped a brand-new 1922 Kodak camera with a strap around his neck for extra support. There was nothing to photograph at the moment, and certainly, the rain would make it much harder to do so, but Yunho carried it around him like an appendage for the constant purpose that there might be something worth documenting. That was something Yunho had learned in his centuries of living – there was never a shortage of photographs to be taken, and when there were photos to be taken, those were the chances Yunho could grab to make his own story.

Yunho entered the alleyway containing the speakeasy entrance and threw it open. He was greeted with a pitch-black and musty-smelling hallway that contained more doors. The dark was no issue, he could see fine in the dark, but the smell overpowered his already powerful senses and left him reeling for a few moments while his nose calmed down. He could hear the faint tinging of glasses and laughter tens of feet away, and he used that to choose the right door to the speakeasy. Once in front of the door, Yunho knocked the specific pattern Wooyoung had told him – it changed every week – and a burly fae with muscles bigger than his head greeted him at the door. Yunho opened his mouth to say hello, but the bouncer interrupted his introduction. He poked at the camera in his hands and Yunho stiffened.

“You can’t bring witchcraft like this in here,” he said gruffly. His eyes narrowed.

Yunho, who was expecting worse from this large man, relaxed. His eyes glimmered as he became more relaxed around this bouncer. “It’s a broken camera,” he said, nodding. “Look.” Yunho picked up the camera and pointed the lens right at himself. “Take a look at the display.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re–” the bouncer began, but Yunho smiled at him so blindingly that he sighed. He looked at the display like Yunho had asked him, folding his beefy arms across his chest as he leaned in to see.

And instead of an image of Yunho, where the lens was pointing, the camera showed just the background around him. It was like the camera could see directly through him, an unimportant view when compared to the scenery around him.

“You see?” He said, laughing. “This damn thing is so bad at picking up things that even if I did take a photo, it wouldn’t be worth anything.” He flashed a toothy smile, fangs glimmering. The bouncer looked at him for a moment more, like he was contemplating kicking him in the rear to send him far outside of the store, and then his shoulders relaxed.

“Keep it as a necklace, bloodsucker,” he huffed. “And if I see you using it, I won’t hesitate to stake you.” His words packed power in them and Yunho didn’t doubt the truth to them, especially with a man as hefty as this one saying them. But Yunho was not fearful in the slightest – he had outsmarted all sorts of people with his angles and fast fingers, and he would do it a thousand times more. A meathead bouncer was nothing.

“Thank you very much, sir, will do,” Yunho said with no intention of doing, flashing yet another charming smile at the bouncer before slipping by his large frame and larger muscles before he could change his mind.

Yunho entered the bar and was hit with a cacophony of noise from drunks, customers, and workers alike. In the corner, he could hear a pixie whining about the stock market. In another, a group of vampires huddled and muttered over a stack of cards with drinks at their sides. To his displeasure, he could also hear the sound of the devil’s tango and the creak of the bed they were using to dance on the floor above the speakeasy. He decided to discard that from his hearing.

“Yunho,” a voice called out over all of the chatter. Yunho turned to the voice, already knowing who it was – Wooyoung, one of his greatest friends, stood at the counter in his bartender uniform with a wide grin. Next to him was a glass of dark red liquid that made Yunho’s eyes light up.

“Wooyoung,” Yunho said smoothly, sliding into a bar seat right in front of him on the counter. He flashed a smile similar to the one he had shown the bouncer, but this one had genuine intentions. He clutched his camera with his left hand while grasping the red glass with his right. “I assume this is mine?”

“That it is,” Wooyoung nodded. “It’s on the house.”

Yunho swirled the red liquid – Sanguine wine – around in its glass. A concoction of wine and blood, it was an extremely popular drink for vampires and unsurprisingly disliked by everyone else. “Thank you, Wooyoung,” he said, looking at him thoughtfully before taking a sip. The taste of blood hit his tongue first with the alcohol following closely behind; he savored it. “It’s good to see you.” He paused. “You said you needed my help for something?” Another pause. “And my camera?”

Yunho could see the weight in Wooyoung’s eyes, and when they had called he had heard it in his voice. Yunho and Wooyoung ran risky lives so it wasn’t unusual to see pain, weight, or fear in each other quite often – but this seemed especially bearing. Yunho’s eyes softened. “Wooyoung, I’m here now.”

Wooyoung gave a sad smile to Yunho. “Can you help me frame a bastard?”

Yunho sat up in his chair, his eyebrows raised. His mouth curled. “Oh?”

Wooyoung didn’t share his enthusiasm, and again, Yunho deflated for him out of respect. “There was this fae at the speakeasy one day,” Wooyoung began, and Yunho adjusted himself in his seat and held his drink tight while he gave his attention to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung dove into the details about this fae he had befriended for a short period, Helio, and his untimely death with an Unseelie fae. Yunho listened, silently drinking his Sanguine while stroking his camera in thought.

“And I know Helio was just somebody and I probably shouldn’t be affected by this as much as I am,” Wooyoung said, furiously scrubbing at a wine glass that he had been cleaning repeatedly for the entire duration of their talk. “But I am and I feel helpless. I want vengeance for Helio, Yunho. Vengeance in a way that would hurt all Unseelie fae, because I doubt Helio’s murderer was just an isolated case of violence. Can you help me?”

Yunho had lived through more deaths than the number of decades he had been alive. Hearing Wooyoung’s story brought it all back – Helio was next to a nobody to Wooyoung, but he had been undoubtedly someone to so many. Yunho thrived in the suffering of those with higher social status, those that could easily evade consequences for actions that would ripple throughout poorer communities, or those with less. It was his immoral duty to destroy people like this and his loving duty to ease his friend’s pain.

“Of course,” he said, and Wooyoung’s visibly now brighter eyes made him pleased with his decision. “What is it that you want me to do, though?” He quipped, tapping the table with his long fingers. “You said you disposed of his murderer already.”

“I have an idea,” Wooyoung smiled and leaned into the table, ready for a spiel. “Mitha, the land of the fae, has been going through a lot of political turmoil,” he began.

“The Seelie and Unseelie courts can’t get along. Each side is grasping for supporters but the fae are equally divided. For every fae that believes in goodness is another that believes in bloodshed.” Wooyoung pulled out, to Yunho’s appreciation, a photo of a man and placed it on the table for Yunho. Yunho craned his head to look at the man – a male fae.

A solemn fae with tricky eyes stared back at him. The fae sat on a red velvet seat and held at his side a black cane with a skull hilt. His hair was split evenly into two colors, white and black, but he was dressed in darker colors that suited the black part of his hair more than the white. Yunho wondered, idly and ironically, which side of the fae this one was on.

“This fae is Prince Hongjoong, an influential political leader in Mitha,” Wooyoung said while Yunho continued to study the photo. Yunho kept up with newspapers and somewhere, in the back of his brain, he thought he had seen him in the news before. It made sense – a man of this kind of caliber tended to grace the papers often. Yunho wondered if his publicity was usually the good or bad kind.

“So, you want me to kill this guy?” Yunho asked, raising his eyebrows.

Wooyoung snorted. “I know you’re not a murderer, of course not. I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

Yunho touched his camera around his neck with a soft hand. “Mm, I’m not sure about that. I’m a shooter.”

Wooyoung grinned. “You’re funny. But I don’t want you murdering this man, dear Gods, I couldn’t imagine the hell you and I would be in if he perished by our hands.” He paused. “I want a worse fate for him.” Wooyoung leaned into the counter. “I want you to take photos of him.”

Yunho’s face remained even – he could feel the bouncer from earlier burning critical eyes in the back of his head. “Now that is something I can do.”

“I know you can,” Wooyoung grinned, finally placing down the glass he had been scrubbing nonstop. “Mitha won’t be a hard journey for you, will it?”

Yunho shook his head. “Nah,” he laughed. “It’s not too hard to get in when you have a reporter pass. It allows me access into lots of places.”

“I didn’t know you were hired at a reporting firm,” Wooyoung marveled.

Yunho’s eyes luminesced as he downed the last drops of his Sanguine. “Who said the reporter pass is mine?”

Wooyoung smiled so largely that his cheeks became round. “Yunho, you’re a little bastard, you know that?”

“The police call me that too often,” Yunho mused and then offered a cheeky smile to his friend. “Well, I best be going, then?”

Wooyoung glanced at the clock on the wall: Yunho had been here for an hour and a half. “Oh Gods, sure. Thank you, Yunho,” he said, bowing his head at him. “This means the world to me and more.”

“Of course, it’s no trouble at all,” Yunho smiled. “And it was good seeing you.” He snuck the photo of Prince Hongjoong Wooyoung had shown him and slid it into his coat pocket.

“Good seeing you too.”

Yunho got up from his seat and narrowly avoided hitting a very drunk goblin while doing so. He offered a perplexed look to Wooyoung, who only shrugged.

“I'll be in contact, but you'll probably see my work before you hear from me,” Yunho grinned, stretching his arms above his head, making him appear much taller than he already was.

“I’ll be on the lookout,” Wooyoung saluted. “Now, I should probably get back to my job…”

Wooyoung glanced around and saw a customer waiting to be served by him. It was a werewolf, one that was staring at Yunho like he was a stain on a white carpet. Wooyoung opened his mouth to tell his friend, but he realized Yunho had noticed him too, and his facial expression mirrored that of the werewolf’s.

Yunho was locked in Wooyoung's vision. "Yunho, no."

“About time,” the werewolf sneered at the two of them. “I’m being held up by one of that kind?” He bared his wolfish teeth at Yunho, even though it was Wooyoung’s fault that he wasn’t served immediately.

“Yunho, just go, you have more important things to worry about,” Wooyoung nudged, knowing that fights and quarrels were all too frequent at the bar, and to his relief, Yunho lost eye contact with the werewolf, but Wooyoung wasn't blind to the minute eye roll he did.

“Are you siding with him?” The werewolf roared, and Wooyoung stared daggers at Yunho, his hands gripping the wooden bar table so hard that his knuckles were white. His eyes pleaded for him to leave.

Yunho, luckily, obliged. “See you later then, Wooyoung,” he said with a little cheer in his voice, and Wooyoung watched him dart by the bouncer and exit the speakeasy.

He then dug up his bartender personality and a smile – and thought that if dealing with a crabby and impatient werewolf was hard enough, he couldn’t imagine the hoops Yunho would have to go through to successfully photograph Hongjoong in all of the right ways, but more importantly, in all of the wrong ways. He wished him the best of luck and then went to satisfy the werewolf.

The travel to Mitha was very similar to the travel to the Underworld – easy, relaxing, and methodical. As Yunho stood at the subway station waiting for the yellow train to Mitha, he watched demons, vampires, and spirits alike board the red train – the one to the Underworld. The yellow train was set to arrive in 20 minutes, but Yunho liked arriving early to watch people. His camera hung at his neck and his hands itched to grasp it and take photos – but there was nothing special about people traveling to hell. The mundane, while a good source for fabrication and framing, had a price to document because of the time it took to develop the photograph in a dark room. Yunho wanted his photos to be of substance, and photos of substance begged to have context; context he didn’t feel like making. He sat and twiddled his thumbs and ignored the Kodak.

Besides his camera, Yunho had his photographer license, a handful of Mitha’s coin currency tucked safely into his pocket, and a black satchel at his side. In the satchel were a few bags of blood and a change of fancier clothes. This would be an easy trip – there and back without a hitch. Perhaps he would journey through hell if he had time to spare after the photoshoot.

The yellow train arrived five minutes early at the station. Yunho was one of the first to stride onto the train and he didn’t waste any time stealing a comfy seat. As more creatures boarded the yellow train to Mitha, Yunho wondered why they were also on the train. Were they seeing friends or family? Were they on their way to work, which could explain why so many people were giving looks to Yunho, an outlier in their daily routine? He ignored their glances. They saw him; they were looking at his camera.

Cameras, while not a new invention, had a layer of scrutiny from the public. It was considered dirty work to be a photographer in the same way as it was dirty to be a prostitute. In a world where magic, uncanny encounters, and accidents existed, a perfect mechanical machine such as a camera was the antithesis of it all. Despite years of practicing espionage magic, a photograph could foil a warlock’s criminal plans immediately. Fae found ways to step over their curse of always telling the truth to cause trickery, but a photograph could dismantle that. The camera was a powerful tool used to twist media despite an immortal’s and all-powerful’s best efforts to maintain their image. And Yunho was a master of his camera.

It was also dirty to be a vampire, but without the blood in sight, it would take longer for people to realize he was one. He certainly wasn’t a fae – his ears weren’t pointed, his eyes, hair, and skin were a natural color, and he could very much lie his way out of anything – but there were plenty of warlocks who also looked almost human, like him. Yunho eased into his seat as the train began to move. There weren’t too many people riding today – most on the train were fae, but there were also a fair amount of vampires, warlocks, and to Yunho’s distaste, a werewolf. He wrinkled his nose uncomfortably.

“The politics of Mitha are always in turmoil,” Wooyoung’s voice echoed in Yunho’s head as he focused his attention on how his encounter with Hongjoong would go instead of the werewolf. “Their court is divided into ten Seelie and ten Unseelie fae to pass laws, but all fae regardless of side vote for both sides. Being a bipartisan politician is crucial to claiming a seat. That means all fae running for a seat in the court will advertise themselves as neutral as possible to appease all fae, but after the election, they will lose their bipartisanship and be extremely Unseelie or Seelie-oriented. And nothing will get passed. Prince Hongjoong is running as a Seelie, but I don’t think that’s where his true affiliations lie. The Unseelie have high hopes for him to win the seat because if he does, the court will be Unseelie-majority for the first time in decades.”

Yunho had interacted with Unseelie before, though it wasn’t always obvious which side they affiliated with by looks alone, safe for if they had either symbol of affiliation on their clothes. Even mannerisms weren’t a way to define which side they were on – Yunho had met the kindest Seelie bikers and the most callous Unseelie mothers. The most accurate way to tell was in how they carried themselves – there was a certain aura of disdain that the Unseelies held and a sense of benevolence that the Seelies had in their personalities. He wasn’t scared of Hongjoong, but he would be lying if he said wasn’t even a little nervous diving into fae territory as a vampire. Hongjoong had the high ground – and Yunho hoped he could swipe at his ankles when he wasn’t looking.

Yunho wasn’t even truly sure what his interaction with Hongjoong would look like. From the few times he had traveled to Mitha, he had visited fae that lived in the city or suburbs, fae that weren’t coughing up riches like the royal fae were. But Yunho did his best work in the moment – and his determination to help out Wooyoung kept him going, even with his anxieties gnawing at his extremities.

It took an hour for the yellow train to reach the major train station of Mitha. Once off of the train, Yunho asked an older female fae for directions to the castle of the royal fae.

She had looked at him, puzzled. “Are you sure you want to go there?” She had questioned, and Yunho had nodded.

“I’m sure you know how much the royal fae love having their photos taken,” he laughed, having absolutely no idea if that was true or not. It didn’t matter, because the fae had shrugged like it was indeed plausible, and then she gave him the directions to the castle.

It took another hour of walking to reach the castle. Unlike in the Midworld where it had been pouring rain, Mitha’s sun blazed across the buildings, pedestrians, and cars in the cities. It was a popular, and incorrect, belief that all vampires burned in the sun. And while a few did, Yunho was of the majority that didn’t.

As Yunho walked to the castle, he took note of the stores he saw. There was a store that sold canes that doubled as weapons, and it made Yunho think about the cane that Prince Hongjoong had in the photo that Wooyoung had given him. Another store advertised mail services across Mitha, Midworld, and the Underworld. Another store advertised Mithaized Underworld food, and next to it was a jewelry store that catered to fae’s pointed ears and unique skin tones.

The closer Yunho got to the castle, the fewer of these stores he saw. Like nature had seen the urbanization of Mitha and had scoffed, trees replaced buildings and stores. The absence of stores made the gorgeous castle in the distance that much more captivating and obvious to the eye.

As he got closer to the castle, Yunho now saw clearly the golden brown bridge that separated the mass of land Yunho was on from the castle ground. At the front of the gate was a group of guards. Yunho gripped his bag and his camera tighter. With the reporter pass that he had stolen, he didn’t think it would be much trouble to get into the castle.

He was right. The guard closest to him had taken a look at him and asked to see what was inside his bag – and gave a puzzled expression to the blood but didn’t say anything – before Yunho had flashed the guard with his reporter pass.

The photo on the pass was of a man that looked eerily similar to Yunho, and never once had anyone doubted that it was him. Yunho couldn’t even have his photo taken as a vampire, anyway. Jongho, the man on the card, could.

The guard was no exception, and let Yunho cross the bridge. He enjoyed the stroll, watching fish he had never seen swim in the moat below and admiring the intricate details of the wood of the bridge.

And once Yunho was inside the castle – and how thrilled he was to be, how was it this easy? – he was paralyzed with awe at the architecture in front of him. His hands itched at his camera, to soak in and capture every beautiful curve or corner he saw. On one wall was a magnificent photo of the royal family. Hongjoong, without his cane, was there with his parents and siblings. On the ceiling hung a chandelier with what must have been thousands of gemstones adorning it. On another wall were rows and rows of statues of what Yunho could only presume were past rulers. How easy it could be to stay here for hours, swallowing up the sublime divinity of it all and let his camera run dry – but he had to find Hongjoong. He pleased his artistic eyes just a bit longer before asking a nearby guard for directions to the Prince.

“You want to go to the throne room?” The guard sputtered when Yunho reached him and asked.

This was now the second time someone thought he was brainsick for wanting to see the Prince. “Well, yes,” Yunho said, scratching his head before pointing to his camera. “I’m here to take photos of His Highness Prince Hongjoong. I’m in support of his political program and wish to convince the public to vote for him.”

When he got no response, Yunho fished out Jongho’s reporter pass again. “See?” He said, flashing it to the guard.

The guard waved away the reporter pass. “No, that’s not what–” he sighed. He shut his eyes, contemplating something, and then opened them. His eyes held nothing. “Allow me to lead the way.”

The guard led Yunho through a hallway that, once again, brought Yunho close to tears. Long tapestries of the royal fae family’s logo adorned the walls in a rainbow display. Yunho opened his mouth to ask the guard who exactly each royal fae was on the wall, but he stopped himself when he saw how stiff and tight the guard was. It wasn’t a tightness that alluded to discipline and years of training, but a stiffness that came with nerves. It was the little things that Yunho picked up on, like the guard’s tentative steps as if one wrong move would lock his knees and send him to the rock-hard velvet floor of the castle, or the way he kept looking behind his shoulder at Yunho every few seconds.

Yunho tried not to let that get to him. Maybe the guard was fearful about something else. Some fae found vampires, by nature, unsettling and disturbing, which wasn’t much better; but he couldn’t shake the ominous feeling growing in the pit of his stomach like a parasite in a petri dish.

At last, the throne room was in front of them: a gleaming gold door with handles half of the length of Yunho – so very long. Yunho secured his bag one last time and made sure all of his belongings were accounted for, and then looked up at the guard to find him staring right back. Something in his gaze sent ice-cold sensations down Yunho’s spine, alerting all of the nerves in his peripheral nervous system.

“What?” He blurted out before he could think through being silent.

The guard gave him a solemn expression. “Are you absolutely sure you want to go inside?” He asked.

Yunho grimaced. “I traveled a long way to get here,” he said. “Of course I do.” He held the gaze of the guard a little longer. He then continued: “what are you so afraid of that’s inside there?”

The guard’s eyes grew weary. Even though they were the color of a lightning bolt, white-blue, powerful, and supernatural, they looked weighed down by the weight of something – some kind of fae secret, no doubt. One that Yunho suspected with a drop of his stomach, he would soon bear as well.

“Prince Hongjoong…” he said, and then shook his head. “No,” the guard said, talking to himself. “I am not scared of him. I am scared that you will be scared of him because you are naive. You do not know the ways of the Unseelie and how they like to work, and how they don’t like to work.”

Yunho was reminded of the fact that fae could not lie and his blood temperature dropped a degree. “Okay,” he said, thinking of Wooyoung and how he needed his help, “but I want to go in.”

The guard sighed with a note of finality, realizing that he couldn’t change Yunho’s mind. “Fine.” Without a preamble, he threw open the large, golden doors to the throne room.

The first part of the throne room Yunho noticed was the large, dark grandfather clock that hung ceremoniously in the corner of the room, the hands of it itching to hit the hour. It was two minutes until two. The perimeter of it, besides being marked with numbers to tell the time, had an engraving in the fae’s ancient language that had died off centuries ago. Yunho had just been turned when the last native speaker died, and he did not know the language. The body of the clock stretched to the floor, and the large metal pendulum encased in glass on the inside of it swung back and forth as a hypnotist would in their profession.

The clock was so significant that the blood all over the floor was only the second aspect of the room he noticed – he smelled it before he saw it, and he was surprised he hadn’t smelled it outside of the doors. He had long since learned to control his bloodthirst, so he didn’t feel the need to lap up the mess on all fours, but he did feel discomfort in his stomach as anyone would that had morals. Blood had been shed, recently, and why?

Yunho then saw Hongjoong, and he immediately understood. Yunho thought back to the old vampire tales his vampire friends had told him centuries ago that listed certain facial features and personalities as more bloodthirsty than others. Yunho had never believed them, taking them as jokes or old vampire’s tales only, but taking in Hongjoong, a little inkling of fear grew in his stomach and made him shudder.

The fae prince was seated on a throne much too tall for himself or any fae, a throne whose top almost reached the bottom curve of the clock. The prince had a long black cloak tossed over the edge of the seat of the throne and it splayed helplessly onto the floor beside him. One leg lounged on the armrest of the chair, the other knee-bent, and semi-parallel to the floor. One hand rested on the kicked-up knee, the other held that damn cane that never seemed to leave his side in all of the photos Yunho had seen of him. The prince’s crown glimmered with gold, which matched the details on his black shirt to an unsettling degree. Yunho thought if he would only smile, he would be admired by all of the women in Mitha. But what destroyed that image for Yunho was the prince’s face – a face that when described, would match the high bloodthirst requirements. Hongjoong wasn’t even a vampire, but his sharp eyes loomed over Yunho like a predator sizing up its prey. They were darker than obsidian, and the prince’s red mouth seemed curled upward in a state of perpetual arrogance. This man had the face of bloodthirst that the vampires’ tales fulfilled.

Yunho made eye contact with the prince, and he could have sworn he saw them glimmer.

“You brought me another one, guard?” Prince Hongjoong said boldly and boomingly, and Yunho had expected his voice to be deeper. It was higher, playful, and lackadaisical, and it reminded him of Puck from A Midsummer Night's Dream, a person from fae history. The prince smiled, and it was not a smile that would make women swoon. This smile was one of a lion about to eat supper. “That’s three back-to-back.”

Absentmindedly, Yunho heard the clock in the room tick. Only one minute until the hour. Prince Hongjoong swung his leg over the gorgeous armrest so both of his feet were planted firmly on the ground. His stance was wide, and he used his knees as armrests. He leaned in, and Yunho expected him to make a comment at him – a dirty vampire or a silly peasant. But then Hongjoong’s head cocked to the left, away from Yunho, and Yunho followed his laser gaze.

There were two more people in the room with them, so quiet and insignificant when compared to the burst of personality on the throne. The first one was a fae man – a commoner, based on his average clothing – that looked like he was about to pass out from anxiety due to the Prince’s stares. The second man was in the shadows, one that Yunho only saw because of his enhanced vision. He was cloaked from head to toe with not even his face visible due to the shadows his clothing gave him. He was a blur of darkness against the bright throne room safe for the enormous and bloody axe he held. The blood on the sharp end of it still dripped, staining the precious white floor with beads of coagulated red.

Hongjoong raised an arm and gestured to the commoner, his smile almost kind. “Why don’t you walk to the center of the floor now, boy?”

Yunho watched as the man followed the Prince’s command, taking uneasy steps to the center of the floor, overtop of the blood that had been spilled from someone previously. Yunho eyed the axeman warily. He itched to help out this commoner, somehow save him from this axeman, but he didn’t know what to do.

It was at that moment that the grandfather clock struck the hour. Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed with malice, and he turned his head to focus on the clock. The man in the middle of the floor also watched it, his eyes frightened and large. The grandfather clock, as grandfather clocks did, began its merry song of announcing to everyone in the room that fifteen minutes had passed since one o’clock, and then also thirty minutes, and forty-five minutes, and then, as if releasing pent-up happiness, the clock sang that it was now two o’clock, its chimes clanging merrily in an announcement.

This is what a normal grandfather clock did, but Hongjoong was still intently focused on the clock like it would do something extraordinary. No, Yunho thought suddenly. He looked at Hongjoong more closely, he looked at how his eyes were unfocused like he was looking directly above the clock instead of right at it. His blood chilled. He’s focused on the sounds the clock is making.

The clock began its first bong that one o’clock had passed. Yunho recognized it immediately as a different sound – he wasn’t sure what about it that was different, but it wasn’t what a normal grandfather clock sounded like. He took a second to spare a look at Hongjoong – and found his eyes were glazed with malicious delirium that had not been there seconds ago. The man in the center of the room began to sob raggedly.

The Prince stood up, his cape following him, elegant, dark, and oh-so-obsequious. Hongjoong thrust his cane so that it pointed right at the sobbing man, not caring that he was crying. His eyes were filled with fire, and the smile on his face radiated with violent lunacy. A giggle lept out of his mouth.

The skull cane in Hongjoong’s hand began to shake due to the shaking in the wielder’s body. Hongjoong’s head turned rapidly at the axeman, who had now walked out of the shadows. The man began screaming. Hongjoong’s shaking became worse and his smile widened. The clock bonged again – it was two o’clock.

“Kill him.”

It happened in an instant. One moment, the axe was in the axeman’s hands, and the next it was sliced three-fourths into the man’s neck. It had flown through the air like a hawk, finding its target with ease and spraying blood all over the room’s walls and floor.

The blood flecked onto Yunho. He screamed in surprise, but not before instinctually licking a bit off of where some had landed on his cheek. It tasted wonderful, but there were too many emotions swirling in his stomach with tornado-like tendencies for him to process it truly. He wanted to cry. He wanted to lick all of the blood off of his face. He wanted to murder Hongjoong. He wanted to melt into the floor. He wanted to stake himself. Instead, his hands found the camera around his neck.

Hongjoong did not protest, though he was focused on Yunho as the vampire fumbled around with his camera. The Prince knew what he was doing, there was no way he didn’t know what a camera was. There was a pride in his eyes that glowed as Yunho’s fingers found all of the right functions on his camera despite the fear that was traveling through his body and making him shake. He cranked the film and cocked the shutter, then took the photo – Hongjoong grinning menacingly on his throne, the victim with blood pouring out of his neck on the floor, and the sprayed out blood all over the white marble floor from when the axe had first made its impact. The axeman, who had done his job, was back in the shadows. Yunho wasn’t even sure he had made it into the photo. He would have to develop the film later to see.

A thought occurred to him amidst all of the fire alarms that were screaming in his head to get the hell out – if he could publish this photo in a newspaper, there would be no need for a photo shoot to frame Prince Hongjoong for Wooyoung. Yunho could do that all on his own with this photo. A smile tried to grow on his lips, but like a plant without sunshine, it wilted. A murder had just happened. He couldn’t smile at that.

When Yunho lowered the camera from his eyes, Hongjoong was staring at him with piercing and dark eyes.

Yunho opened his mouth to ask why he was looking at him like that, but Hongjoong was royalty. He was used to speaking first.

“You shouldn’t have seen that,” Hongjoong said serenely. He looked dazed like a child would be after eating a bag of candy. “You should not have seen that…” Prince Hongjoong paused, then inclined a hand towards him. “What are you called?”

Yunho did not lose eye contact with him, and he thought about his stolen photographer’s pass. “Jongho.”

Hongjoong nodded in a way that showed Yunho the question of his name was insignificant. “Jongho,” he said, tasting his name in his mouth and nodding. “Jongho, I’m afraid you’re going to need to die.”

“I already died fifteen hundred years ago,” Yunho said casually, instead of jumping back in terror like he should have. For a moment, he lost eye contact with the prince and noticed that the guard that had escorted him into the room was gone. He had no clue when he had decided to leave. It was just him, the corpse, his murderer, and this fae with a dark and iron hand. His attention was back on the prince. “Why do you want me dead… a second time?”

The prince eased back into the comfort of his throne like a beast succumbing back into the catacombs from which it came. The cane had not left his right hand the entire time he had been in the throne room, though he now held it with a much more relaxed grip. Hongjoong smiled at him, and it wasn’t a nice smile – it was one similar to the one that had been plastered on his face when the axe had found its target only minutes ago.

“You can’t let Seelie know that I kill,” Hongjoong yawned. “And you just took a photo of the murder.”

“You could have stopped me,” Yunho pointed out. “Though, I’m not sure you actually could’ve. Watching a person die in front of my eyes isn’t exactly something I see every day, and so I had to document it as a photographer.”

“It’s only okay to kill someone if it’s dinner in your book, bloodsucker,” Hongjoong nodded, his grin wider. Yunho had a sudden desire to twist Prince Hongjoong’s head off like a lid of pickles.

“But perhaps I should have been clearer,” the Prince continued, now tapping his fingers on the skull handle of his cane while Yunho fumed. “I honestly just wanted to see you squirm. It’s a shame you’ve died already, the first death is always the worst… though you know that already,” he smiled, and then his eyes narrowed. “You might die again, is what I am saying.”

Yunho opened his mouth to ask what that exactly meant, ignoring the Prince’s other comments, but Hongjoong was ready for him. “I have no say in if you die or not if I am a righteous leader, though I can make it happen,” Hongjoong said. “The Fate Clock will decide for me since fate has brought you here anyway without my request.”

Yunho eyed the towering clock in the room again, and thought about how when that clock had struck two o’clock, Hongjoong had ordered the axeman to kill the man. A worry grew in his stomach, and he glanced down at the corpse that was emptying its bodily contents onto the floor. “How?”

Hongjoong got even comfier on his large, large throne. A lazy smile appeared on his face. “The Fate Clock is an old relic from when my ancient ancestors were young,” he said.

Wonderful, Yunho thought. Fae magic.

“It has aided my royal family throughout since the inception of its life and will continue to aid my progeny when I am long gone,” Hongjoong continued. “It can determine if someone lives or dies by how useful they will be to my family.”

“If me releasing you with that photo will do good for my people, then the clock will chime in a major key,” he paused, “do you know what that is?”

“I’m dead, not deaf,” Yunho said mundanely, though he had never thought to dabble in music in his long life.

Hongjoong took this as an acceptable answer and continued. “If the Clock chimes in a major key at the hour, I will spare your life. Though if letting you spread that photograph will only cause harm…”

There must have been a rock in Yunho’s stomach, teetering against his kidneys, unsure if it should fall or not. It chose at that moment to plummet down to his feet.

“It will chime in a minor key at the hour,” Hongjoong continued, “and you will become just like this man at my feet right now.”

Hongjoong had backed Yunho into a corner. “It’s a harsh and cruel world,” Hongjoong said with cheer, “for people that don’t have power like me. I bless the silly thought that made you desire to come and see me, vampire. More bloodshed for me.”

Yunho looked down at the corpse on the ground, and realized with a sickening punch in the gut, that he would join him soon enough. He knew, and Hongjoong knew, that at three o’clock, the Fate Clock would chime. The Clock would chime in a minor key because surely no photo of a murder would be received well – and Yunho would be gone. Wooyoung would not be avenged. Helio’s death would be in vain, and at the price of Yunho’s. For the second time, Yunho would die, and for the first time, it would be permanent.

Yunho looked Prince Hongjoong directly in the eyes. “Then the Clock will chime in a major key,” he said, plastering on a kind smile and lying right through his teeth, “because I will never show that photo to anyone. I will only bring goodness and light to your reign, political career, and life.”

Hongjoong’s eyes glimmered. “I think you’d best benefit my life bleeding out on the floor at my feet, dear.”

The stare the two of them held could have cut glass. Hongjoong, powerful even when lounging in his chair, legs spread out in a move of dominance and fingers tapping on his cane thoughtfully stared at Yunho like he was considering all of the ways he could string Yunho’s useless and dead intestines across his wall artfully, and Yunho, feet planted firm into the ground with a strong grip on his camera on his neck and unwavering gaze to the prince. He was not going to die today. He convinced himself of this.

Hongjoong considered Yunho a bit more, looking up and down his lithe and lanky frame before sighing. “Well, I suppose I should let you sit comfortably for your final hour.”

Hongjoong was kind enough to let Yunho sit in an old, wooden chair that the axeman had dragged across the floor to him. It creaked under his weight when he sat in it and was terrified that if he moved, the chair would break apart and he would somehow stake himself during the fall. Perhaps that was Hongjoong’s plan all along – to quench his thirst for bloodshed that couldn’t wait an hour. Yunho had not thought about death so much for the full hour of waiting. Could vampires die by an axe? Was an axe how he would die? Was there a stake underneath all of that dark and bloodstained clothing that the axeman wore that would drive through his heart? Perhaps the axeman would just pull off a leg from the chair Yunho was seated in, or Hongjoong would drive his wooden cane to end him in a painfully majestic murder.

But Yunho was most upset about the promise he had made to Wooyoung, a promise that he saw slipping through his fingers like sand. He had wanted to come back victorious, to ease Wooyoung’s troubled heart, and now he wasn’t sure how his friend would ever know he had died. And how would Wooyoung cope with two deaths when he did realize? He didn’t want to think about it. He couldn’t think about failing Wooyoung. He had failed enough times with others for greater stakes.

Yunho inclined his head towards the large doors that had led him in here. Perhaps if he ran fast enough, he could escape Hongjoong’s wrath. But that’s still failing Wooyoung, he thought. Because even if you managed to get out and release the photo, Hongjoong would hunt you down and kill you anyway.

Thus, the hour passed by very slowly. Yunho was too into his thoughts to realize it was five minutes until the hour when Hongjoong spoke up.

“Five minutes,” he sneered, the glee of slaughter emanating off of his body like smoke from a fire. “Five minutes until you’re dead.”

“Five minutes until you let me go, alive,” Yunho said. If he was to die – again – he was going to stand tall and strong up until the very last moment. “Five minutes until I release that photo, and it will prove to be useful for your throne.” He just hoped the Clock didn’t know what photo editing was. He was shaking out of anxiety now, and he hoped Hongjoong couldn’t see it.

If Hongjoong had anything other than sanguinary thoughts, he did not show them. Like a slinky, he sunk deeper into his throne. He shrugged, and Yunho prayed to whatever higher power that controlled the Clock that it would be merciful on his already damned, vampiric soul.

The five minutes were up in an instant like Hongjoong had turned its ancient hands closer to the hour himself. At some point during Yunho’s melancholic reverie, the axeman had removed the body of the man from the center of the floor and had done a poor job of wiping up the blood. The place where Yunho would soon stand was a circle of bloody pink.

“You know where you must be,” Hongjoong leered, inclining his head to the circle. Yunho said nothing, but he did obey the Prince and stood in the center of the throne room. He gripped his camera tightly and watched the Clock. There was less than a minute left. If Yunho’s heart actually worked, it would be running a marathon.

Hongjoong also watched the clock, his smile turning wider and wider as each second passed. He stood from the throne, threw back his cape, and lowered his cane to the ground.

Ten seconds. Yunho held his breath, though he hadn’t been breathing anyway. Five seconds. Yunho gripped his camera tighter. If this was how he was going to die, he was going to give the people that ransacked his body a hard time prying it from his hands.

The Clock struck three o’clock. Like a symphony being orchestrated by a conductor’s baton, the clock began its song of telling everyone in the room that fifteen minutes had passed since two o’clock, then thirty, then forty-five. Everyone in the room was transfixed by the tune. The end of its song was nearing – the chime was coming. Yunho shut his eyes.

The first chime sounded in a wondrous major key, and if that was not music to Yunho’s ears, he didn’t know what was. He opened his eyes, and found Hongjoong at the center of his vision, his face perplexed and his mouth slightly open. His brows furrowed in confusion. The second chime came, in a major key just like the first. Yunho released his fingers from the camera. The camera was now soaked in sweat. The third chime was more defined than the other two, reverberating across the room. The axeman, who had stepped briefly out of the shadows, sunk back to where he was before.

Once the third chime had finished ringing, there was a moment of silence between Prince Hongjoong and Yunho. Hongjoong looked down at him from his elevated position and had the expression of a disappointed father to his son, Yunho. Hongjoong sighed quietly and put down his cane. His shoulders dropped.

“That does not happen very often,” he said, breaking the silence. “I wish I could kill you,” he said flatly, and Yunho was too shocked to snort at that statement.

“But the Clock is never wrong. Therefore, I grant you immunity and life for the betterment of my people, Jongho.” He sat back down on his throne, and Yunho did not mistake the pout on his face. “I cannot wait to see what that photograph will do when you release it,” he said, the bitterness most recognizable in the word photograph.

Yunho couldn’t drop the smile that was now plastered across his face. “As do I.”

Hongjoong flicked his wrists, and the doors to the throne room opened. The photomeister left. There was no time to take a relaxing trip to hell like he had said he would do earlier – he had a photo to develop.

The photo-developing process took anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes – it depended on how complex the photograph was. Once back in Midworld, Yunho rushed to his home and his own, private darkroom. In complete darkness, Yunho mixed the developer mixture with water. The not-quite photograph of Prince Hongjoong was wrapped in a reel that was placed in a film tank. Yunho poured the mixture into the film tank and then waited. He turned the lights back on and eagerly awaited the results of the photograph.

Yunho first saw the dark area where the axeman lay hidden develop, the darkest part of the photo. Black lines appeared quietly around the rest of the square, outlining Hongjoong, his throne, the corpse, and the blood that coated the floor. Yunho narrowed his eyes, studying the developing photo, and then a smile appeared on his face. His hypothesis that the axeman would be too dark to see in the photo was right – there was no way to tell he had ever been there. The photo continued to develop, and there was no sign of him ever appearing – Hongjoong got darker, the blood increased in saturation, the floor became whiter, and Yunho’s ego developed with it. A story brewed in his head – Hongjoong, a political candidate for the good and kind Seelie, was caught murdering the innocent with his own hand. There would be no editing needed for the photograph – it already said everything Yunho wanted it to say.

The photo finished developing. Yunho washed off the harsh chemicals and treated it with a protective treatment so that it would not be damaged in the sun, his hands shaking as he did so. The photo was a photographer’s dream, a landscape photo that was worth a ten-thousand-word story that Hongjoong was unfit to hold a court seat for the Seelie fae. There was no way that the public would believe any other story, not when everyone thought photography was indecent practice and akin to witchcraft. What the public didn’t know, was that as perfect and mechanical a camera was, there was an imperfect being behind it, snapping shots with their own vision, view, and perspective. Yunho had them wrapped around his fingers, and he would make them see whatever vision he wanted them to see.

Yunho let out a laugh as he exited his darkroom and pocketed the photograph. He threw on a coat – it was getting chilly, and the walk to the train station to Mitha was far. “My gracious thanks to you, Prince Hongjoong,” Yunho muttered under his breath as he left his house, feeling fueled by his own version of bloodlust, “for allowing me to live so that I might be a tumultuous effect to your reign.”

Yunho entering the Seelie newspaper room two hours later caused quite a ruckus. One fae by a typewriter blinked multiple times upon seeing him like she had never seen a vampire before. Another shrieked, but that may have been because Yunho had kicked the door open before entering in a six-foot-one-inch fury of a long dark cloak and vampiric sensuality.

“Hi, Seelie fae,” Yunho said, and then slapped the beloved photograph of Hongjoong onto the table so they could all see. “I need a story on this. Stat.”

Within the next few days, the political climate of Mitha changed rapidly. Even those not living in Mitha felt it and saw it because it appeared all over newspapers as an enormous story. Yunho’s photo was on the front page of every Seelie newspaper and on at least one page of non-fae newspapers.

Prince Hongjoong of the First Province of Mitha Violates Seelie Social Code, the headliner read. Experts predict that he will be disqualified from the ballot to obtain a Seelie court seat, underneath. And, gorgeously, Yunho’s photo was printed on thin, glossy paper, the colors vibrant and eye-catching. Hongjoong’s murderous eyes were looking directly at the camera, a detail Yunho had failed to see when he had developed the photo. Coupled with the smirk on his face, an assumption could be made that Prince Hongjoong had orchestrated every drop of blood on the floor beneath him and was proud of doing so. This was not someone fit to make decisions for Seelie fae. This was an imposter. Underneath the photo was the credit: Jeong Yunho, 1922, and those three words made Yunho’s spirits soar.

When Yunho walked into Wooyoung’s bar with a spring in his step, the bartender hollered a cry of excitement and knocked over the drink he was in the middle of making. “Yunho!” He screamed, then as a delayed reaction, his body shook in surprise that he had accidentally spilled his drink all over the table. “Did you–”

“I did,” Yunho grinned, and he hadn’t grinned wider than this in a long time. Wooyoung looked at him adoringly, with crinkled eyes and pink in his cheeks and teeth that shone in the odd bar lighting. Yunho took a seat in front of Wooyoung, who was in the middle of cleaning up the mess he had made. “I did see it. I can’t believe it.”

“That’s a damn good photo you took,” Wooyoung marveled. “How did you do it? Well, not how, but, you know… how? What sneaky Yunho thing did you do to frame that bastard like that? Oh, he’s probably hating you right now! He wants to kill you so bad, but he can’t!” He banged his fist on the table and shouted with happiness.

Yunho thought back to Hongjoong’s words before he had left the throne room: I wish I could kill you. If only Wooyoung knew.

“There was no editing,” Yunho grinned, allowing himself a moment of hubris as Wooyoung audibly and theatrically gasped. “That was just me and the perfect lighting and the angle of my camera.” He thought about telling Wooyoung about the clock – and he decided to when he saw how Wooyoung was vibrating out of his body every time he spoke. He owed it to him to tell him everything that had happened.

So he did – everything from the events leading up to the photograph, after the photograph, and Yunho’s terrifying hour on death row. Wooyoung clung to every word like a koala on a tree branch, his eyes growing like saucers at all of the right moments.

“And I honestly have no fucking clue why the Clock let me live,” Yunho said once he was finished with his story. “Because how is this beneficial to Hongjoong in the slightest? What does the Clock see that I don’t?”

Wooyoung quirked his lips while he cleaned up the last bit of the drink he had spilled. “I think it’s because the Clock helps all of Mitha, if I understand you correctly,” Wooyoung said after a minute. “Hongjoong missed an oversight that allowed you to live – something I suppose he missed because of how far that cane is up his ass.” Wooyoung, who was perpetually smiling, smiled even more. It was such a good sight to see him so happy. Yunho hadn’t seen him this cheery in months, and the feeling gave him warmth in his chest. Despite everything he had gone through to obtain that photo, seeing Wooyoung so satisfied made it all worth it.

“Thank you, Yunho,” Wooyoung said as if he were thinking the same thing as Yunho. “If I had known it would be this hard or life-threatening, I wouldn’t have asked you to do this. But you did it, and you did it with flying colors because you’re Jeong motherfucking Yunho. It makes me feel so good that innocent Seelie lives will be saved because Prince Hongjoong now won’t have political power.” He paused. “Or, not as much power as he could have had.” Wooyoung took a deep breath and beamed. “Fae with lives like Helio can now live.”

Yunho wished he could see Prince Hongjoong’s face right now – was he seething on his throne, clawing at the walls, crying his eyes out? – but he was certain that whatever reaction he had, it wouldn’t be as satisfying as Wooyonug’s glee right in front of him.

Yunho touched Jongho’s reporter card in his pocket and let a wave of sadness wash over him. He couldn’t save everyone, but he was glad to save Wooyoung. The happiness reappeared on Yunho as it had never disappeared, and it was his natural look – a man that would move mountains just to see a friend smile after months of grief. “And I would do it again.”

22 notes · View notes

mingkist · 2 years

Text

ateez reaction to ateez memes

thank you to @doesthismeannothingtoyou for this idea TT it was so fun to make

masterlist

permanent taglist: @italiekim @rielleluvs @youngestdelacour @alanniys @dogsongy @mingiholic

#ateez smau #ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez fanfiction #ateez humor #ateez texts #8makes1teamnet #ateez x yn #ateez x you #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #mingi x reader #yunho x reader #san x reader #yeosang x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez reactions

2K notes · View notes

daybreakx · 2 years

Text

✄ pairing: frenemie’s ex! Seonghwa x gn! reader.

✄ genre: break up au, angst, fluff.

✄ summary: after being made into the villain, you don’t see an out of the drama you began other than breaking up with seonghwa, however, he’s not letting you go so easily.

✄ word count: 3.08k

✄ warnings: people being nasty to mc, drama drama drama, mentions of food, cyberbullying. this is unedited and i apologize in advance for any silly mistake.

✄ a/n: thank you so much to everyone who asked for a part two to The Rule Book, here it is! I hope you like this part as much as the previous one♡

✄ rule #1

It’s like high school all over again. Except for the fact that, instead of getting sent to the principal’s office, you got a meeting with HR and instead of detention, you got to an office of your own which you are sure was a utilities closet two days prior.

And you are shunned still, even after two weeks. People who had meaningless conversations with you while on a coffee break are now avoiding you, whispering every time you walk by about how they never thought you could be so heartless.

The worst part is that they don’t even like Eunhee, they just dislike you even more.

Okay, maybe the worst part is that you haven’t even told Seonghwa about how making your relationship public has turned out to be much worse than you expected at first. When it hasn't even crossed his mind that things could be like this.

He’s too busy with work, something that doesn’t bother you at all, if anything you’re grateful you don’t have to explain why you come back home on the verge of tears practically every day. Half the time it’s tears of rage, because Eunhee is thriving on this.

You see it in the way she smirks when she passes by your office, making the most to catch your eye. You see it in the way she celebrated when your boss suggested you spend more time writing posts rather than filming videos “for the sake of the work environment.” And you see it in the clearest way possible, when she decides to make a story out of you.

“Story time about how an ex-friend stole my boyfriend just to spite me…”

The audio narrated by Eunhee blasts from your phone and, after giving a little jump, you turn the volume down hurriedly. You’re alone in your apartment, but the embarrassment overlooks that tiny detail. You shouldn’t be looking at Eunhee’s profile, much less at her videos. But you can’t help it, because you know what’s coming, you know it’s about you. It’s the third video in a row where she tells the story of how she was ‘so in love with a guy…’ who she insists on calling “Mars”, and how a person messed their relationship up because they have always been jealous about her: Because she’s pretty, smart, creative, etc. At least she hasn’t given you a nickname. But her followers have, they call you all sorts of things in the comments, things foul enough to make your eyes fill with tears and your jaw clench just by reading the top three.

You wipe your tears and lock your phone. You can’t keep torturing yourself like this, you can’t bear it anymore. Are you really that much of a bad guy?

The phone rings and you jump again, clearing your throat to dissolve the knot in it before trying on a cheerful ‘Hi love!’ as Seonghwa greets you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, you can already picture the little furrow between his brows, the most obvious gesture of his concern, and a pang of guilt runs through you. This is childish, so fucking childish.

“I’m all right, why?” you chuckle weakly, but don’t give him a chance to follow up with an answer. “How are you? Are you getting home soon?”

“In a couple hours,” Seonghwa replies, his voice already tired. “Are you sure you’re okay, babe?”

“It was just a bad day at work,” you admit finally, biting the tip of your tongue to keep yourself from spilling anything else. “But it’s good to hear your voice.”

Seonghwa laughs softly and you chat a little more about your days before he has to go back to work, him still trying to cheer you up as best he can.

You’re grateful for him, and moreover, you feel your heart swell with love for him every time you’re together. You are in love with Seonghwa and he’s in love with you too.

So why are you thinking about leaving him?

+++

Seonghwa places a piece of cake in front of you, making a whole show of scooping icing on his fingertip to rub it in your nose gently. You force laughter distractedly as your eyes search for a napkin, you’re not in the mood to be playful, you shouldn’t even be at this party.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, passing you a napkin himself, suddenly bashful about annoying you. “Are you not having a good time?”

“It’s not that,” you rush to reply, wiping the icing with enough force to leave your skin irritated. “I’m just–” tired? stressed? overwhelmed? You don’t know which word to pick this time to describe how you’re feeling, having overused them already every time Seonghwa asks how you’re doing.

Your boyfriend frowns, running the tip of his finger down your sticky nose and feeling sorry again for bothering you. It’s clear you don’t even want to be here, and he doesn’t know what to do to change that. Maybe it’s been his fault from the start, for insisting that you come to Yeosang’s birthday party to introduce you to most of his friends and colleagues as his partner.

He’s ruining everything again.

“I think i’ll just call it an early night,” you decide before putting a spoonful of cake inside your mouth. “I’m not feeling well.”

“We can go home sure,” Seonghwa runs his hand down the back of your head, too conscious about his gestures now.

“No! I wouldn’t want you to miss the rest of the party.”

The music starts booming again because people have swallowed their tiny pieces of cake and are back to drinking and dancing. It’s fun, you think, most of the people present are doctors and nurses and you can tell they’re making the most of their night off.

“Are you sure?”

You nod, swallowing more cake before getting up from the seat you’ve occupied most of the night. “I’ll just grab an Uber, and call you when I’m home.”

Seonghwa lets you go after saying goodbye with a kiss on the cheek. Maybe giving you space is for the best, maybe it’s what you both need.

But he knows it’s not.

Maybe he is in fact fucking everything up again, you’ve probably already had enough of him not calling or texting for great spans of time, of him being too tired to hold a proper conversation, of him getting sulky and preoccupied. Or to put it in a more simple manner: You just don’t like him anymore.

“Where’s y/n?” Yeosang asks as he approaches, San follows him closely with the camera of his phone aimed at both of them.

“They just left,” Seonghwa explains,feigning lightness. “They didn’t feel so good.”

San raises both eyebrows at this. “Are you two fighting?”

Seonghwa shakes his head, although unsure. “It’s nothing.”

But San is the person that knows you best, maybe this nothing is something and you have told him. Seonghwa just has to get him alone for a bit, try to get him to talk. He discards the idea as soon as he gets it, what the hell is he thinking? Harassing your friends in common for answers to a problem he hasn’t bothered to bring up directly with you? He’s an idiot.

“You two look great together,” Yeosang blurts out awkwardly.

“Thanks,” Seonghwa chuckles, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. He should go home too.

It finally happens one Friday when you’re on the subway. Your stomach is already roiling with anxiety as you approach the stop that will leave you two blocks away from your workplace. You used to love your job, even with the slightly long commute and the lack of respect to your actual working hours. But now the mere thought of setting foot on your office makes the back of your head hurt and your tongue dry, it’s torture. And you know today will be worse because it’s finally happening: Eunhee is going to reveal who is the foul person who ruined her relationship with the love of her life.

You should have blocked everything about her 10 part story the moment she started spewing lies (which was the very first second of part #1) but something made you addicted to knowing what else she said. The regret that you still felt about potentially hurting her, maybe. Or the fear of confirming every time that people thought you were the scum of the Earth.

But if Eunhee actually tells everyone who you are, things are going to get real bad. Worse than they have been for the past month. People have been vile to this, so far, unreal person who made little innocent Eunhee so sad. When they can put a face to this villain, when they know their name—your name, they’re not going to stop until they see blood in the water.

Eunhee smiles as she crosses you in the hallway, her pink mug filled with coffee to the brim, which she spills in a small puddle at your feet. The splash stains your shoes and manages to burn your toes a little.

“My bad,” she says with a small gasp, the smirk still on her lips.

You bite the tip of your tongue so hard it almost bleeds. You want to yell at her to stop, you wish you to have an actual fight. Not even over Seonghwa. Over how exploitative and manipulating she’s always been, how self-centered and selfish she acted through the poor excuse of a friendship you two had. You want to erase that smugness wholly, you want her to know what it feels not to get away with everything, just for once.

But things are so fragile right now that you know the moment you confront her, your face will be all over her 20k follower page.

You’re letting her bully you, and it’s so humiliating you step out of her way and rush to the bathroom, where you clean your stupid shoes and cry.

There is one solution to this, and you don’t need Eunhee to tell you what it is. You have to break up with Seonghwa. Seonghwa who probably has started to dislike you anyway. Thanks to your prickliness and avoidance, and the huge abyss of miscommunication you single-handedly created.

“I think we should break up,” you break the bubble of awkward silence that surrounds you by making things worse. You’re at your apartment, sitting on opposite ends of the living room, Seonghwa with a cardiology book on his lap while you scroll through your phone, anxiety driving you to refresh Eunhee’s page every three minutes.

You want to pause though, the moment the words leave your mouth. You break up with Seonghwa and then what? Tell Eunhee the deal is done and that she please, please, leave you alone? Let you enjoy your job again and not talk about this whole telenovela she has written by herself ever again? You know she won’t take it, it has earned her the attention she has always wanted. The attention she never stops craving.

Seonghwa closes the book slowly, gaining time to gather his thoughts, yet the only thing that comes out of his mouth is: “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing!” you gaps, which is a stupid thing to say. You don’t break up with someone who has done nothing wrong. “I just– I don’t think this is working.”

Seonghwa gets up from his seat and crouches in front of you. “Seriously,” he lowers his voice. “Please tell me what I did wrong.”

Your heart aches at the fact that he’s taking the whole blame, and you want to yell at him to not be an idiot and admit that you’ve been the worst partner to possibly exist. Especially this last month.

“Was it my job? I’ll try my best, y/n. I promise I’ll try harder–”

“It’s not you,” your eyes burn with unspilled tears, “How can you even think it’s you?”

“It’s usually me,” Seonghwa says lightly, but you can tell it hurts him to admit he’s always the one to ruin his relationships. “I– I’m sorry, what can I change? I–”

“It’s me, Seonghwa, are you serious?” you don’t even know if you’re sad or angry anymore. You hate him a little bit at that moment for thinking he’s to blame. And you hate yourself too, for not telling him the truth.

His eyes examine you for a whole minute, trying to figure you out, break you out into little pieces as if that way he could finally get into your brain. But your phone buzzes on the table and both your focus breaks, you jump to grab it, dread coming over you.

“Tell me what it really is then,” Seonghwa says, his hand closing his hand over yours, the one that’s holding your phone shakily.

And it is about time you break down. Because you feel so goddamn stupid. This isn’t high school anymore, yet you’re letting a mean girl step on you without telling anyone. You feel bullied and scared and alone.

So the only thing you do as you sob is give your phone to Seonghwa, open in Eunhee’s newest video where she finally says your name and reminds everyone of where you two work.

The worst is coming.

Seonghwa tends to feel inadequate very often. Which is very surprising for someone who appears very self-assured most of the time and whose job is to be confident in his decisions. But he doesn’t think he’s ever felt worse than at that moment, as he scrolls down the horrible comments that people are so quick and brave to make about you. The best ones, if they can even be called such, call you a homewrecker, the worst ones threaten to harm you with their own hands. He has left you to deal with this all alone.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, holding you as you still cry. “I am so, so sorry.”

In the end it is his fault, his frankly insane ex-girlfriend is making your life an actual living hell and he had no idea.

“Please quit your job,” he begs next, shaking his head. “We’ll figure something out, but please quit your job.”

The hate messages have started to pile up in your personal profiles, and people don’t take long in finding out who Seongwha is. But he’s not getting the same treatment as you are. You manipulated him, he’s not at fault here. He’s a handsome doctor who didn’t know any better.

Seonghwa feels physically disgusted as he keeps reading everything these people have said about you. Everything Eunhee has made up. Honestly he has no idea of how you’ve managed to put up with them. And with him, because guilt is starting to eat him up, he feels responsible for putting you through this.

“I love you,” he whispers once you’ve calmed down, his arms still wrapped around you. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this alone.”

You want to shrug, but it’s been enough of trying to downplay it. This has hurt you deeply, more than anything else in a very long time. But you’re grateful Seonghwa doesn’t say ‘you should have told me,’ or ‘you could have stopped this.’

He takes a deep breath, running his fingers through your hair. “We’ll figure this out together, y/n.”

San wants to tear Eunhee apart. And he might have, had he not known it would mortify you even more that he caused a scene, but as he enters your workplace, Seonghwa has to place a hand on his shoulder to bring him back to Earth.

They’re picking your stuff up, you sent your resignation letter a couple days back and your boss and HR sighed collectively. Those cowards. So they said it was okay if you didn’t show up yourself to clear your desk and finally free the supply closet, but they also didn’t think you’d send your (still) boyfriend to get your stuff. It wasn’t your plan either, but Seonghwa needs to clear a lot of things up with Eunhee.

Both guys make themselves busy with putting your things in a cardboard box, trying to rush through it until Eunhee shows up at the door, ready to feign surprise until she realizes it’s Seonghwa who’s standing in front of her.

Suddenly she’s not so brave.

Yena is looking above her shoulder at San and Seonghwa, and grimaces when the latter walks toward the door, but doesn’t let Eunhee slip away. This might get interesting.

Seonghwa wants to say so many things. Things that will hurt Eunhee the way she has hurt you and your relationship. Things she will not forget in a long time and will keep her up at night, the way they keep you up with anxiety and overflowing thoughts.

But this evilness isn’t really in him. At this point he just wants Eunhee to leave you two alone, so he turns back to the desk and finishes cleaning it up.

Eunhee lets out a sigh and a sufficient appears on her face, she’s won.

“You’re a liar,” Seonghwa calls before she’s able to walk away. “You are a crazy liar, and if you ever talk about y/n again, I will make sure you regret it.” He's probably digging his own grave, knowing Eunhee, but someone needs to stop her. And he doesn’t care about whatever she’ll make up about him.

It’s San’s turn to hold Seonghwa back, they’re finished here. And she’s not worth it.

“Crazy bitch.” he whispers anyway, because it’s the least he can do.

+++

The hate messages have become less and less over the course of weeks. There are people who have come out in your defense, yours and Seonghwa’s friends. Other ex-boyfriend’s of Eunhee, more people she has bullied and stepped on to get her way. They have exposed her as crazy, manipulative, as the snake she truly is. But the worst one yet is Yena. Eunhee completely forgot they were two sides of the same coin, and Yena exposed every single lie she told about you and Seonghwa, not because she wanted to clear your name, but because she knew she’d get every ounce of attention Eunhee lost.

You don’t care anymore. It’s a miracle your relationship has survived this craziness, and you don’t want to get involved with them ever again.

Your relationship with Seonghwa isn’t perfect, actually. But you have made rules of your own, and these ones you follow perfectly.

#ateez scenarios #8makes1teamnet #ateez series #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x y/n #ateez x gender neutral reader #ateez fanfic #ateez blurbs #ateez writing #ateez drabbles #ateez angst #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop writings #kpop writers

268 notes · View notes

hanatiny · 2 years

Text

Bird in a Cage

a/n: yes I know I’m a continuous liar about which fics I post first but,,, writer’s brain do be like that

pairing: prince!Hongjoong x gn!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 4653

warnings: royal AU, strangers to lovers, brief mentions of alcohol, reader is mentioned to be wearing a dress but referred to as they/them, one suggestive comment/joke, mentions of feeling trapped (but only metaphorically)

-----

Hongjoong sighed for the umpteenth time that day; as much as he was grateful to be able to change his hair however he wanted to, he regretted the compromise of letting his family’s servants dress him - he didn’t mind what they picked for him in the slightest, but he absolutely hated having people fussing over him and adjusting things for him when he was perfectly capable of doing so.

He wasn’t a goddamn child anymore.

Which was also why he wasn’t particularly excited when his parents announced a masquerade ball for his birthday celebration without consulting him about his own wishes beforehand, even if they were considerate enough to choose the event he enjoyed the most.

Hongjoong had always liked seeing people’s fancy outfits and the masks they’d pair with them, even if he seldomly got to join the dancing crowd himself, out of a concern for safety - despite disguised guards roaming the ballroom at all times.

“Something on your mind, Your Highness?” His train of thought was promptly halted by the voice of his most trusted butler-turned-advisor, Seonghwa.

“Please, I cannot even recall how many times I’ve told you to simply call me by my name when we’re alone...” The slightly older man hummed amusedly in response, but obliged the request nonetheless, “Fine then, Hongjoong. What is it that has you so occupied?”

“I suppose it’s just...” Hongjoong trailed off momentarily as he thought how to best phrase his words while Seonghwa watched the prince move to gaze longingly out the window, “I do not mean to sound ungrateful by any means, especially since my lessons are now much fewer and farther between than they used to be when I was younger, even if they’ve just been replaced by meetings, but... I would love to have a little more freedom still.”

An affirmative sound vibrated low in Seonghwa’s throat, indicating how attentively he was listening to his liege.

“You remember how we used to sometimes try to sneak out, hm? To play with the children in the village, yet we’d somehow always get caught even before reaching the main gate? Those children... They have families now, children of their own.”

Seonghwa tilted his head in confusion, moving to stand next to Hongjoong with his arms crossed. “I can see that, Hongjoong... But I fail to understand what your conclusion here is meant to be.”

Hongjoong suddenly turned to the older, a determined look in his eyes beneath his two-toned and slightly too long, soft bangs. “I won’t ever be like them, I know this, and I also know you willingly gave up such a life to work in the palace. If we can’t be them... we’ll just have to help them instead.”

“Meaning...?” Seonghwa coaxed, clearly intrigued by the younger’s idea.

“We have more than enough resources to care for everyone in the palace for years to come, if not more, do we not? And instead of collecting taxes as dilligently as we do, we should give back to the people for once!”

Hongjoong’s expression had changed into a proud smile over the course of his rambling, and Seonghwa found it hard to bite back a fond chuckle - the young prince always had a tendency to dream big. “I say that sounds wonderful, though when are you planning to put that into motion?”

“Once I ascend the throne,” came Hongjoong’s reply, a commendable lack of hesitation in his tone, “so I’ll humor my parents tonight. I’ll show them how capable I am, and prove that I’ll be a ruler they could be proud of.”

“You have high ambitions, I see.” Seonghwa spoke up again, a hint of mirth noticeable in his voice, “But I do not mean to discourage you. No matter what you do, I’ll be loyal to you until the very end.”

Hongjoong’s eyes lit up when his friend encouragingly placed his hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“Thank you, Seonghwa. I suddenly feel way more excitement for the ball now...~”

A smile was the only answer he received as the man in question turned to leave Hongjoong’s chambers, the prince straightening out his vest before heading out as well.

Now freshly invigorated from his exchange with Seonghwa, he sat on his throne next to his parents in a much more regal and elegant position than the one he usually took to at such events.

When questioned, he simpled adjusted his white mask - the color of innocence, he mused, how fitting - to hide his grin as he reasoned it was the very least he could do on his birthday. His parents left it at that.

Hongjoong was perfectly content with watching the crowd of royals mingle and talk amongst each other with drinks and dance like they weren’t here to celebrate him specifically. This was how it always went, Hongjoong knew that even if he hardly knew many of the guests by name, and it was exactly what allowed him to enjoy himself as much as he did in his observant spot.

Over the course of the evening, he had rid himself of his beige vest and folded it neatly over the armrest of his throne. His father, the more laid-back of his parents, shook his head lightly in amusement, while his mother quirked a curious eyebrow at their son before writing the action off as him simply feeling a bit warm and wanting to be more comfortable.

Hongjoong restrained himself from letting out a breath he almost didn’t realize he was holding - he vowed to be on his best behavior tonight, and making his parents suspicious of him even in the slightest was not the way to go for that.

His gaze swept the ballroom once more, suddenly getting caught on someone who looked like they really, truly didn’t want to be at the ball despite being invited - and having the choice to decline, at that.

You.

Hongjoong couldn’t deny being intrigued by the way you leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a glass in hand while your eyes were cast towards your feet. Or at least that was what it looked like to him, the upper half of your face concealed by your silver mask.

In the blink of an eye, one that could only be described as an impulsive moment of weakness, Hongjoong was off his throne and weaving through the crowd to reach you.

His parents attempted to stop him, although they were held back by Hongjoong’s older brother, the guard captain, who wanted to see how this would play out.

It was almost amusing to see how the mass of dancing - and to varying degrees also intoxicated - people seemed to intentionally part to let Hongjoong through, noone caring enough to question his behavior.

You had just put your empty glass down on a passing server’s tray with a polite smile, jumping slightly when an attractive young male appeared in front of you before quickly regaining your posture and bowing out of courtesy.

The man smiled, bowing as well and holding out a hand for you to take while his eyes studied what little he could see of your face.

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room,” your face warmed in realization from his words, “Would you care for a dance~?”

It took you a moment for the words to register in your head before you nodded, placing your hand in his. “I would be honored to dance with you... Your Highness~”

Hongjoong’s lips twitched into a wider smile - he had a feeling you’d recognize him, especially so given his rather extravagant taste in hair colors.

Standing up straight again, he gently tugged you along to the center of the ballroom before beginning to effortlessly lead you in a slow waltz.

You did your very best to not let your proximity to him fluster you, attempting to conceal that by keeping up a conversation instead, “So... how come I piqued the crown prince’s interest when I have been, allow me to be so bold, less than interested in the festivities?”

Hongjoong let out a small chuckle, “It’s simple - that is exactly why, I am... not much of a celebratory person myself, I much prefer the company of my piano, for instance.”

“I see,” you hummed in response, “and why are you here, dancing with me, if you’d rather not be here altogether?”

He was quickly growing to like your curiosity, he realized.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be very becoming of me to not be present at an event held in my honor, no? And I thought I may as well take my chance and ask someone as mysterious as you to a dance, make it a tad more interesting. Speaking of... what brings you here? Because with all due respect to my family’s ability to entertain nobles for hours on end, I cannot find it in myself to blame you for not wanting to be here at all~”

You knew you both felt it, slowly but surely felt the awkward atmosphere between you and Hongjoong cracking and instead melting into one that seemed almost... familiar.

“Well... That is a situation you can thank my dear cousin, Wooyoung, for.” Hongjoong smiled - he could hear the playful contempt in your tone, it was one he used a lot in regard to his brother when he was younger, and he knew you cared about this man deeply.

“He was the one invited and received a spare invitation as well, and both of our families agreed that his brother is much too young to safely be brought here, so they decided ‘surely Y/n would enjoy themselves much more than we would.’“

Realizing you were complaining openly about your family, you averted your eyes bashfully before your face warmed even more when Hongjoong’s hand, previously resting on the small of your back, moved to gently tilt your head back to face him.

His expression told you that he would remove both of his hands from you at a moment’s notice if only you asked, though you saw no reason to move away from the handsome prince. It was only mere seconds, but to your poor heart it had felt like an eternity had passed before he spoke again.

“Such is not the case, then, and I can truly not condemn you for it.” He paused for a moment, appearing to collect his thoughts. “Y/n... what a wonderful name, ‘twould have been a shame if I hadn’t been able to learn it tonight.”

Your brain short-circuited; his attempt at courting you was perhaps the least possible thing you imagined happening tonight. Hongjoong noticed this, laughing softly to try and ease your mind a little, and it seemed to work when you smiled brightly at him.

It was then that the song you were dancing to ended, the music seeming to cease for good - at least for the time being - while chatter and laughter filled the ballroom and surrounded the two of you where you stood once more.

Some wordless communication must’ve been happening between you and Hongjoong because only mere moments later, you gave him a small nod and he turned to pull you with him to the doors connecting to the hallways which, in turn, would lead you outside to the gardens.

A hint of nervousness shot through you when your eyes connected with that of a highly suspicious guard in front of a door, though the prince next to you took it in stride and simply fixed the other man with a challenging glare that looked menacing even beneath his mask.

It was almost amusing to see Hongjoong turn back to you with a cheery and innocent smile afterwards, nodding his head towards the door and allowing you to follow as he finally led you out into the embrace of fresh air.

Unbeknownst to you, he had to fight back a gasp of awe from how the moonlight illuminated your face - the lights in the ballroom, and within the palace overall, produced a much more artificial light that he had yet to grow to like.

A soft laugh escaped you as you picked up your dress a bit as to not stumble and fall, skipping towards the nearby fountain with a smiling Hongjoong in tow.

You sat on the edge of the cold granite, careful to balance yourself as you glided your fingers across the water’s surface while Hongjoong mimicked you a few feet away.

When you both looked up at the same time after a moment of silence, prompting your eyes to meet, the prince sputtered - clearly flustered.

“My apologies,” he started, his tone soft, “I’m not usually so... inadequate when it comes to social interactions with lovely people.”

You grinned, endeared, when he seemed to realize his slip of the tongue almost immediately and slapped a hand over his mouth.

“It’s quite alright, Hongjoong.” You assured him, and it looked as if every bit of tension dropped from his shoulders in response - a sight you were glad to witness.

“If anything, I find it charming to see the supposedly so composed and well-behaved prince show a little more reaction and be... a little more human, I suppose I should say.”

“A little more human?” Hongjoong echoed intrigued, his head tilting to the side. You were captivated by the dual-haired man and didn’t even realize it.

“Mhm. Most nobles I have met in my lifetime are, for lack of better terminology, rather stuck-up and care only for flaunting their wealth that they hadn’t worked a single moment in their lives for.”

Hongjoong’s eyes lit up then and it was your turn to feel your face warm, determined to see this look on him more often.

“That’s how I feel too!” He exclaimed with a toothy, enthusiastic smile. “My parents included, though I mean no offense - they’ve given me everything a man could ever ask for and more, after all.”

He still seemed a bit cautious around you, so you hummed your understanding. “Don’t worry, my family’s the same. Wanting my cousin and I to both marry other nobles to maintain our influence, regardless of what we might wish for instead.”

Hongjoong moved a little closer, then. Even in the darkness and beneath the mask, you could make out an equally curious and challenging expression on his face.

“What is it that you do want?”

You were positively caught off-guard by his question; you couldn’t remember a single instance of someone else who appeared to genuinely care enough to ask this question. It was usually about your family instead, so weren’t sure how to answer.

Noticing your hesitance though falsely interpreting it as discomfort instead, Hongjoong shuffled away again a little. “If I overstepped a boundary with that, I-”

He fell silent immediately when you reached for his hand and pulled him even closer than he sat before, his face visibly heated now.

“Nonsense. It’s just... nobody had ever stopped to think what I may want, and what I want is... to just be Y/n, and not someone with some fancy titles and money and things others deserve to have just as much, if not moreso. I want to be free.”

Hongjoong had an unreadable expression on his face, which you took as a signal to continue.

“As much as I am eternally grateful, at times I feel like...”

“...a bird in a lavish gilded cage?” He finished his sentence for you, and you nodded in stunned silence at how similarly the two of you felt.

“You could not possibly be more right.” You laughed sheepishly, and Hongjoong promptly joined in with a mirthful chuckle.

You wanted to hear that sound again. All the time.

He was the first to speak again after a moment of peaceful quiet, “Well... now that we’ve revealed our deepest secrets to each other, don’t you think it’s time for our literal masks to come off too?”

It took you only a brief moment to process his words before nodding, tugging down your mask and the string that kept it in place, effectively leaving the former to dangle from your neck much like a necklace would.

Hongjoong, meanwhile, had taken his own mask off and carefully tucked it into the pocket of his suit pants. Both of you gasped when you looked at each other once more; it wasn’t like the masks hid much, but seeing each other’s faces unobscured still felt meaningful - almost like a secret to be kept.

“I feel free with you.” You spoke at the same time, prompting a series of flustered quiet giggles to follow because you both knew it was true.

Even with the only light being that of the moon shining above, you could tell he was beautiful. His dark eyes reminded you of hot chocolate, his pointy nose of those of the fairies in the stories you loved to read, and his smiling lips had no right to look as soft as they did. And the small beauty mark on the side of his neck only added to how pretty he was in your eyes.

Hongjoong was likewise mesmerized, his hand reaching to caress the curve of your face and keep your gaze connected to his own. He was evidently entranced, not even fully aware of the distance between your faces slowly shrinking.

One of your own hands lifted to place itself at the back of his neck, careful to keep his expertly styled hair as it was.

When he seemed to come back to his senses, about to pull back to create more distance out of respect for your boundaries, you took initiative instead and boldly pressed your lips against his.

He froze in surprise for a few short seconds, causing to worry you might’ve overestimated your chances but when he melted and reciprocated almost eagerly, any semblance of concern ebbed away.

You parted what felt like an eternity later, shyly folding your hands in your lap while Hongjoong bashfully scratched his neck.

“I...” he cleared his throat, clearly stalling to find his words, “I hope you k-kissed me because you wanted to, not because you felt obligated since I was so close without even realizing it.”

You smiled at him in response, shaking your head lightly. “Hongjoong, with all due respect, I can assure you I did it because I wanted to. And you did too, right?”

He nodded his head ‘yes’ before trusting his voice, “I did, it was wonderful and it... it felt like a taste of freedom.”

“Better not overdose on it.” You joked lightly, affirmation following quick behind, “I feel the same way, though.”

Hongjoong hummed in both gratitude and amusement before getting up with seemingly new-found confidence, tugging you gently to stand as well. “Since we cannot possibly overdose on each other... may I take you for a little walk through the royal gardens until duty calls again~?”

He was a smooth talker, you’d give him that. You playfully quirked an eyebrow at him, “A walk in the royal gardens, you say? Is that meant to be a euphemism for something more... crude in nature, perhaps?”

The dual-color haired prince faltered in his steps and nearly tripped over his own two feet while he led you between gaps in hedges to elaborate and well-kept flower beds, nearly whirling around in shock at your suggestion.

“N-No I would never! I swear on my life I’m innocent!” You found his insistence cute, squeezing his hand to reassure him.

“You can relax Hongjoong, I was merely teasing. I know you’re a gentleman~”

He let out a small sigh in response, his tone almost whiny when he next spoke, “Don’t do that again~!”

The prince settled down completely when your lips brushed a peck against his cheek. “Oh my...~”

Neither of you knew how much time passed while you toured his family’s property together - you had to admit, it was impressive how well-kept it all was despite the size of it. You were well aware they had staff taking care of it, but that did nothing to deter your awe.

When it seemed you had seen everything there was to see outside, Hongjoong suddenly turned to you with a determined expression and caused you to almost bump into him in surprise.

“Well, I think this concludes our tour at least for now,” he laughed softly in reaction, “the secret passageways are too risky with all these guards around. So, pinky promise that we’ll see each other again?”

You blinked before enthusiastically linking your pinky with his with a smile, “Of course! I wouldn’t give up my personified freedom for anything~”

Hongjoong blushed at that, deciding the best way to convey his mutual feelings was to kiss you again, and you reciprocated in kind.

You were both a little breathless when you pulled away, “Also promise to stay in touch no matter what?”

“Promise.” Hongjoong grinned, taking your hand in his again - a lot less shyly than before - and leading you back to the palace, but not before ensuring both of your masks were secure on your faces again.

Just to look as if nothing had happened.

Once there you were met by both Hongjoong’s brother and your cousin. The latter simply quirked an eyebrow at you, a clearly amused smirk present on his lips while you stood next to him and smoothed down your dress a bit. The young prince, in turn, positioned himself to his brother’s side.

Ever the gentleman, he bent forward and gently pressed a kiss to the hand you offered him before standing straight and disappearing into the crowd with his brother.

Wooyoung looked at you expectantly, which earned him no more than a grumble of “I’ll tell you later.”

Both of your heads snapped up when a loud ‘clink’ sounded, indicating the royal family had an announcement to make. An older man, who you assumed to be the king and thus Hongjoong’s father considering his attire, stepped forward from the row of thrones. You also saw the queen standing on his one side and your dual-haired partner in crime on the other, with his brother a bit further off.

“As you all know, this ball was hosted in honor of our youngest son, Hongjoong. Given the time, we have decided to conclude tonight’s festivities and allow everyone to- hm?”

Confusion found its way onto your face and that of numerous other guests when Hongjoong suddenly tapped his father on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear before stepping forward.

“I just wanted to personally thank all of you for coming! I know I’m... not exactly the best nor most social of hosts, but,” his eyes met yours across the room and you instinctively straightened up, much to your cousin’s further amusement so you subtly elbowed him in the side, “I thoroughly enjoyed myself tonight, more than I have in quite some time, and I wouldn’t have if you all hadn’t come.”

You found it almost cute how Hongjoong was clearly buttering up all those nobles around you, yet they seemed none the wiser while they clapped happily before slowly but surely the crowd dispersed and everyone went on their own merry ways.

Wooyoung started tugging you outside after a few moments as well, and when you glanced back one last time you could’ve sworn you caught the corners of Hongjoong’s lips twitching up into a smile before he turned and left alongside the rest of his family.

Once in the carriage to your accomodations, Wooyoung refused to stop clinging to you until you told him where you were the whole time. You pointedly reminded him that he was the one to leave you on your own just to flirt with a pretty lady - who was probably already spoken for anyway. He pouted but let you continue, knowing you were right.

Purposefully omitting the part where you and Hongjoong kissed multiple times, held hands and declared each other as your freedom in human form, you simply told him that you both simply wanted to get away from the loud ball for a bit.

It technically wasn’t even a lie.

Back at the palace, Hongjoong hung his head low as he followed his parents to their private chambers, shooting his brother a glare when he spots him silently snickering in the corner of his vision. Because of this, he almost bumped into his father when he stopped and turned to look at him while the prince bashfully avoided his eyes.

His father gently gripped his chin and tilted his head up towards him.

“Son, you’re not normally so insistent on expressing gratitude for these parties. You were trying to impress us, no?”

“I- how-”

A chuckle came in reply. “We quite literally raised you, Hongjoong. Staff involved or no, we know you better than anyone except for maybe Seonghwa.”

Hongjoong was speechless; was he really such an open book? It was then his mother chimed in, “Worry not, we’re not the least bit upset you decided to... take a little break, if you will.”

“You’re really not?!”

“Not in the slightest,” his brother affirmed from the sidelines.

“In fact, it was what we were hoping for. You see... we know you were usually only sitting through these events for our sake, and we do appreciate your... sacrifice, in that sense, but we wanted you to finally live a little and make your own decisions. And we’re glad to see you seem to finally connect to someone from outside of our own home.”

Hongjoong was well and truly stunned, this wasn’t at all what he expected his parents to say about his impromptu disappearance - he was ready to beg on his knees in earnest for them to not punish him, this was a development he didn’t expect in the slightest.

“So, what you’re saying is...” He started carefully, encouraged by nods to finish his thought, “my next birthday celebration will be my coronation?!”

His excitement and the hopefulness in his eyes were beyond endearing to his family, having always had a bit of a soft spot for him.

“Correct. While we both may not be particularly old yet, we see no reason to not led you lead in our stead. You’re young, have high ambitions and the people love you as you’re aware. We’re confident you will be an excellent ruler, and we will be here to support you by whatever means necessary and possible for as long as we live.”

Feeling tears of joy well up in his eyes, Hongjoong enveloped his parents in a tight hug and tugged his brother close for him to join in as well before pulling back again and bowing to excuse himself, turning to retire to his own room with quick steps.

He wanted, no, needed to tell Seonghwa about this and get started on writing to you.

He had a promise to keep, after all.

His first letter to you, scribbled excitedly onto the first piece of blank parchment he could find, told you about his parents’ reaction and the date of his coronation, followed by an overly formal invitation to the latter. He felt awfully shy about it, but at the same time he was confident you wouldn’t turn him down - not after the meaningful exchange you had with the moon and stars as your only witnesses.

Your first letter to him, equally enthusiastic, told him that you wouldn’t miss it for the world and congratulated him on everything working out so well, and also told him about all kinds of shenanigans your cousin was up to as well as what you did together. Hongjoong was glad to learn more about you this way.

And both letters contained a vow to meet each other again as soon as possible. To be free together.

----- Taglist:

@ateezinmymind @cometoceantrenches @ddeonghwva @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @nightqueennyx @serialee @tohokuu @twancingyunhoe @vocalyunho

Network tag:

@8makes1teamnet

#8makes1teamnet #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong fluff #ateez hongjoong fanfic #ateez hongjoong fluff #*twirls hair* hii surprise I still write #hanatiny writes

46 notes · View notes