#Fem! Human Dust Sans | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluebellhairpin · 2 years

Text

Bakugo Katsuki X Reader

A/N: I just like Pacific Rim. And Bakugo. Also please excuse all errors in grammar, spelling or formatting; I have to do all this on my phone. My computer is shit when it comes to writing now apparently :/ - Nemo

Summary: In a world with monsters from the Pacific, and monsters made by man, two people try and find a way to help humanity reclaim it's world. They do it through each other's eyes. They do it through a Jaeger.

Warnings: AU-typical themes. A character in-passing has a blood nose. I wrote this with a Fem!Reader in mind, but GN pronouns are used. Not edited; we die like men (proud and ignorant).

Listening to: 'Lesson Number One' from Mulan II - "Sound and silence, dark and light. One alone is not enough, you need both together."

Masterlist || Ko-fi

You’d always been drawn to power.

From the way you’d try to pull your fathers fingers out of their sockets when you were a toddler (apparently as you do as a toddler), to now, how you’d stare out at the open ocean as its waves crashed into the coastline (apparently as you do as someone with nothing else to do).

But now, the oceans hold a new danger. One that no one had seen in any lifetime before yours.

You still remember when the first Kaiju attacked San Francisco.

You’d come home from school and find your mother watching the news. The anchor still reporting about the giant creature as it rampaged across America’s east coast. It lasted almost a week. It only ended after their weapons went nuclear. Everyone thought it was a one-time thing. But it wasn’t. The monsters from the deep kept coming back.

A year later, they hit home harder. Literally.

The attack on the city of Sydney was what spurred humankind to find a less nuclear way of dealing with the Kaiju. One less destructive, and less damaging to the human population.

You were in that city when it attacked.

You saw that beast and how it destroyed everything in its wake, and for the first time in your life you weren’t drawn to its power.

You were afraid.

You remember the screaming of the people around you, and how your tears made dust stick to your cheeks. You remember losing sight of your parents in the crowds and thinking that they’d died.

Thinking that you were going to die.

Katsuki Bakugou didn’t think he’d ever find anyone to pilot a Jaeger with.

He was too temperamental. Too angry. Too selfish. Only two people had even come close to drifting with him.

The first was his childhood friend, Izuku, who apparently could drift with just about anyone. The second was some guy from his cadet days, Eijirou, who was friendly with everyone but admittedly could match his own stubborn nature.

However, just because you got along didn't necessarily mean you were drift compatible. Only the people with the strongest bonds in the drift were made Jaeger Rangers. Only the duo's with the biggest chances of success were put out to fight.

You could love your mother to death and still not have a good enough drift capability with her for the PPDC to say "go out there and pilot that giant mech so you both can save the world".

Bakugou had made the rounds trying to find a co-pilot, and both his options and patience was running thin. He only had one place left. His last chance.

The Sydney Shatterdome.

He'd landed in the city two days ago, early and jet-lagged. Today was the day he'd venture from his temporary housing to (hopefully) a more a permanent dorm at the Shatterdome. He'd even caught wind of a new jaeger taking residence there, and much like him it had been through the ringer when it came to pilots.

Apparently none of them had lasted very long in her cockpit.

Slinging a duffel bag over his shoulder, he let out a throaty scoff, smirking. If anyone would pilot it, he thought, it was gonna be him. Even if he had to wrestle a co-pilot into the spot next to him.

You'd been waiting for this guy for months. Actually it was less than two weeks, but it sure felt like an eternity.

You'd been stuck here for too long, and as your fellow cadets graduated two months ago, you were stuck without a partner. The uneven amount of people your year didn't help, and the fact that no one ever really felt… right.

You still graduated, obviously. The best and brightest of your whole class. You were the first person on the Marshals list to try compatibility with one Katsuki Bakugou. And boy, looking at him now you were glad that while you were first on the list, others sure had tried their hand at him before you.

Hearing of him by word or mouth wasn't hard; a hot-blooded Ranger-to-be who literally drove any potential partner into the ground. By the bloodied nose of the engineer that passed you as you entered the combat room, he wasn't going easy on anyone.

Beside you, you could hear the clack of wooden staffs as Bakugou crossed off another potential partner. Then a grunt and a thump, and someone letting out a loud sigh as you toes off your shoes.

"You need to stop fighting them." You called, Bakugou’s last opponent rubbed the back of their head as they passed the staff off to you. Bakugou’s eyes landed on you, fierce and widening.

"What?"

"You keep fighting your partners like they're Kaiju. Not like they're your co-pilot. You need to stop fighting them."

"Oh and why's that?" Your stare narrowed.

"Because it's not a fight. It's supposed to fluid, not stunted like you keep making it out to be. So stop fighting and start feeling."

His cheek twitched in either a frown or a smile, the fleeting motion gave way to a neutral expression once again. He readied his stance.

"Fine."

He didn't know what else to say.

You hadn't even introduced yourself and you were already telling him what to do.

Usually when people saw him, their eyes lowered, shrinking in on themselves. His permanently plastered sneer didn't help that, he knew it, and his size didn't help either. Eijirou had an intense training program while they were both training in Japan, and Bakugou was nothing if not competitive. His piled on bulk like a kid with access to too much icing for a cake.

But you hadn't let his looks or attitude bother you.

Admittedly, he liked that.

Pretending to get comfortable to catch him off guard, you made it look and feel like he should've seen it coming. He blinked and there was your staff right in front of his eyes.

"One." You said. You didn't hesitate to mark yourself one point.

He liked that too.

Bakugou found himself distracted throughout the whole session with you. Not in a bad way, not in the way that meant he failed or couldn't get marks on you like you were getting them on him. No he… he was having fun. He was enjoying himself.

Usual sparring sessions like this would end quickly. Best out of four. But not this one.

A half hour passed and 50 points landed between you both.

He stood panting. Sweat was running down his brow and throat and he so badly wanted to chug a gallon of water, but you just kept going. As if he was going to back down.

He never did.

Every time a point was marked you'd keep the game moving. Pushing through. Flowing movements. You were fluid and feeling just like you told him he needed to be, and he soon found himself mimicking you.

Brute strength wasn't quite cutting it, so it was the only way he could keep up.

Even he could feel it. They way that even though you'd both only just met you could read each other with barely speaking. He wanted to try drifting with you, and he didn't even know your name.

"You better not be this jittery in an actual Jaeger." Bakugou said.

"We're practicing for a reason. I won't be nervous in a Jaeger so don't get your panties in a twist."

"I'm not wearing panties dumbass-"

"Marshall on deck!"

Yours and Bakugou’s bickering stopped, giving way to straightened posture and an insane silence.

After your sparring session the day before, everyone involved agreed to an attempted neural handshake between the two of you. However Bakugou wasn't making himself very likeable.

You had to admit though, that he was a welcome distraction. You were a bit nervous.

The PPDC's Marshal - Toshinori Yagi - was well respected. He was the best Jaeger pilot his time had ever seen, with more kills under his belt with his jaeger All Might than anyone before him - nor anyone after. A injury out in the field left him unable to pilot, but his knowledge was kept close at hand. Why he was here, in Sydney of all places, had you standing to attention just as well as an order.

"What are you doing here?"

Of course Bakugou had to open his mouth again. Luckily the Marshal took it in his stride.

"It's not everyday we have two people with such potential. I'm here to make sure you are both exactly who we are looking for to pilot a Jaeger."

"The Jaeger they moved here a few weeks ago, she's for us?" You couldn't help the awe in your question. Not only a co-pilot, but your own Jaeger? This day could be the best of your life.

"If you both drift well enough together, yes." You smiled at the Marshal's answer.

Looking over at Bakugou, though, your joy faded. His shoulder tensed, and jaw firmly locked into place. He certainly didn't look happy.

"But we need to find that out first. Suit up. She's waiting for you."

"The Jaeger? You're putting us straight in?" Bakugou asked. The Marshal smiled.

"Where else?"

Your mind was quiet. The glimpses of memories he saw were fleeting. They were supposed to be.

Rangers do not chase the RABIT.

Bakugou took deep breaths as he steadied himself in the drift, opening up a headspace to let you in. Like he was supposed to. Then he felt you.

Pushing and prodding into his brain like you owned the place. He guessed at this stage you might as well have. He heard you scoff beside him, looking over to see a glint of a toothy smile under your helmet.

"You're going to have to let me in more than that, you know."

He sighed. Deeply.

He tried venturing into your mind first, but you blocked him out, flinching.

"Hey, works both ways babe. I'm only gonna let you in if you let me in."

"Guys," the LOCCENT coms crackled, "you two need to relax. The neural handshake isn't lining up very well yet. Try and focus."

Bakugou grumbled, deciding to be the bigger person in the relationship for once. He felt how you followed his lead. He felt how his barely-there trust paid off, and how you let him in just the same.

He felt how you let him be the right hemisphere of the Jaeger, and felt how you took control of the left.

"That's it! You're lining up almost perfect!"

He could feel your amusement flow through him, rippling against his chest like water at the sand of a beach.

"Don't say it." He said with gritted teeth.

"I'm not gonna say anything," you said, your joy overwhelming him like a flood, and he found himself smiling a little too, "I certainly would never say anything about how easy that was, right Kacchan?"

The mess hall was almost always full of people. Right now was no exception. Everyone was buzzed about the two newest Jaeger pilots, and frankly so were you.

You'd been excited since Marshal Yagi told you you would be drifting for the first time, not in a simulation, but in your possible future jaeger. You sure had every right to be now.

Having such a successful bridging on your first go was rare. You could only think that there was a reason you had never found anyone you could do this with so well until now.

You'd just fare-welled a group of engineers from your table, they were the group in charge of maintaining your Jaeger's core, and you definitely are keeping them as friends. You were hoping to finally get to your dinner, when a food tray slammed down onto the steel table beside you.

"Excalibur Blue." Bakugou announced, leaning back against the table from where he sat himself down on the bench. "She sure sounds badass."

You turned to him, taking him in.

From his undercut and ear piercing, to the slither of a tattoo peaking out from under his shirt as he crossed his biceps. He sure did look like a powerhouse. But looking closer, at the tuffs of blond hair, and his eyes which colors matched more like that of a cherry than blood, you could tell he wasn't as sharp as he looked.

The glimpse in his mind today was enough for you to believe he was softer than he let on. You liked that.

"Think our legend can match the namesake?"

You smiled as you shovelled a fork-full of mashed potato in your mouth.

"We can be better."

You didn't catch his smile as he said that you were damn right.

#bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x you #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x you #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia x you #pacific rim au

152 notes · View notes

heavendear32 · 2 months

Text

6. 100 Year Nap

Summary: “I know that gods roam the earth because I used to walk with them”, Haneul is an immortal being with powers that most humans would kill for. When Haneul gambles with the gods, she loses her powers and without her powers she’s cursed to die by the next full moon. She hurries to get her powers back with the help from the last person Haneul wants to be around: a demon.

Pairing: Demon!Hongjoong X Fem!O/c

Word count: 2,751

Warnings: mythical creatures, mentions of getting cursed, spiritual messages, mentions of religions, cussing, allusions to smut, mentions of loss of blood and drinking blood, mentions of possession, mentions of magic usage, mentions of death, death, violence, drinking, gambling, other idols are mentioned, pet names (darling, babe, baby, my dear), deals.

Haneul stomach dropped as the car stopped in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. The rain was still pelting the earth harshly, but Hongjoong got out as if it was just another nice day. Hongjoong walked around the car and to the side where Haneul was sitting, he opened the door and held out his hand. She looked outside at the rain before at Hongjoong, Haneul took a breath and got ready to get wet but as she got out she was dry.

The girl looked confusedly as she watched San pull out an umbrella to shield himself from the rain, Haneul looked up at the sky. She didn’t have any powers anymore so it wasn’t because of her but as she looked over at Hongjoong it made sense, it was the Demon but Haneul wasn’t sure why he was so attracted to her. Both Hongjoong and Haneul looked around at the dense forest but the Demon pointed at the break between the thick trees where a small path laid.

“That is where we go but ooh I don’t think dogs are allowed.” He clicked his tongue staring right at San who let out a growl.

Haneul watched as the Werewolf walked around the car with determination, he let go of the umbrella and let it fall to the ground. San grabbed Hongjoong’s collar and growled into the face of the Demon not scared of what could happen.

“If you take her down that path and she doesn’t return, if you’re not already dead I will kill you myself.” San growled at the man and Hongjoong turned his head to the side and rolled his eyes

Hongjoong pulled from San’s grasp and dusted off his outfit and stepped away from San, walking up to Haneul. He smiled and placed his hand on her back.

“Now why would you think I’d want to kill the only thing keeping me alive.” Haneul rolled her eyes but looked away to hid the blush that was covering her face, she stepped from his side. “Before we go, can I ask what’s down the path?”

“One of my friends, judging by the storm he’s woken up from his nap. Trust me darling he can help you.” Hongjoong clicked his tongue. “Man I haven’t seen him for 100 years.”

Haneul nodded and looked back at San, he took a step towards Haneul as the girl met him halfway. Hongjoong stood in front of the path waiting to Haneul.

“You sure you’ll be okay?” He asked and the woman giggled. “I’ll be fine, I mean yes he is a Demon and he’s cocky but I don’t think he could do any harm to me.”

San smiled, “okay be safe.”

Haneul nodded and walked up to Hongjoong who stood on the path, she smiled up at the Demon who turned around and started walking down the path. Haneul’s eyebrows furrowed and she hurried after the man.

“Hongjoong!” She called and Hongjoong smiled, stopping for Haneul. “That is the first time you’ve called me by my name.”

They continued walking but Hongjoong stared at Haneul, a smile covered his face. He hadn’t felt drawn to anyone like this before, but there was something different about her.

“So who is this friend?” Haneul broke the silent and Hongjoong hummed. “He’s not a mortal if you’re asking but there are a few things you do need to know. He hates when people are rude so he on your best behavior, don’t take any gift from him, you know what just follow my lead.”

Haneul laughed and answered, “is your friend a Fae?”

“Exactly.” Hongjoong snapped his fingers making her giggle

It went silent again and the only thing you could hear was the path crunching underneath their feet. Haneul enjoyed the slow walk in nature, she had always tried to take walks in nature that had no real destination but it seemed different now that Haneul was human. The forest was calmer and the animals were more prominent, it was more peaceful than the woman realized and finally she could just breathe.

“I can’t believe you’re having fun over there, you know what I had to do to find your loverboy.” Hongjoong pouted, crossing his arms

Haneul rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. “My loverboy?”

“Choi Jongho? The guy you asked me to find information about?”

“Ohhh yeah, what did you find?”

Hongjoong shrugged and quickened his pace, Haneul’s eyes went wide. He was just leaving her without an answer? She scoffed and quickened her pace, rushing after the Demon. They were such petty creatures so then why was Haneul not mad?

“Come on please, you said you’d help me.” Haneul whined and stopped in front of the man

Hongjoong tapped his foot and looked down at the pleading woman. Haneul pouted and gave him puppy dog eyes but Hongjoong just tapped his finger against his cheek as if he was thinking.

“Your lover boy is boring.” He answered and stepped around her

“He’s not my lover!” Haneul called but cleared her throat. “But what do you mean by boring?”

“He’s the perfect son for someone living in Joseon, he’s the son of an official, followed in his father’s footsteps and married a nice woman. There’s nothing more than, I told you boring guy.”

The rain started to lessen the deeper into the forest they walked. Haneul looked behind her but she couldn’t see where they had come from, she was sure they hadn’t been walking for long. The forest seemed to change as they continued, but it wasn’t dark and actually seemed to become calmer and brighter. The forest seemed more playful and mischievous now, the rain that had been pouring down was gone.

“Where is this friend of yours?” Haneul asked becoming skeptical about Hongjoon’s friend

Hongjoong just smiled as they continued walking, Haneul began to fall behind. She drug her feet against the ground and mumbled to herself about how this was a waste of time before almost running into Hongjoong. Haneul furrowed her eyebrows as she stepped around the man and looked in front of her.

Her mouth fell open in awe as she stared at the grotto in front of her. It was absolutely beautiful, luscious fauna and beautiful flowers filled the clearing but smack in the middle was a quaint little cottage. Its roof covered with moss and vines snaked down the sides, smoke puffed out of the chimney and it looked like a perfect place for a fairy to live. The gardens around the house were impeccable and the path snaked through between the beautiful flowers.

“You believe me now?” Hongjoong asked before walking on the path

Haneul moved after Hongjoong, trying to keep up with him. The Demon reached out and stopped her before Haneul could step on the grass.

“Be careful where you step.” He said with concern and Haneul nodded. “Follow my lead.”

He started again, leading her past the house and into the back. The backyard was even more beautiful and lush. Two tall trees stretched into the sky and between those trees was a hammock, it swung slowly even there was no wind. Haneul’s mouth fell open as she saw the man laying on top of the slow swinging hammock, he seemed so peaceful as he slept or at least that’s what it looked like to Haneul. Hongjoong looked over at the man, before cupping his hands and calling out.

“How are you on this fine day Yeosang?” The man reacted to Hongjoong’s words, his eyes fluttered open and he turned his head. His mouth broke into a huge toothy smile as he sat up

Haneul froze as she stared at the Fae, he was the most beautiful person she had ever seen. His skin seemed so perfect and naturally glowing, his eyes were so big and bright that they were brighter than the sun, and then right under his left eye was a spot no bigger than her thumb. It was the spot of the Fae, where the earth kissed them.

“Ah my dear friend, what are you doing here?” He asked and got up from the hammock, slowly walking up to the Demon

“Yeosang it’s good to see you.” Haneul stood there as she watched them embrace, before Yeosang turned to the woman

“Can I have your name?” Yeosang asked and Haneul opened her mouth before closing it again

She had to be careful with her words, with one wrong slip-up not only would Haneul be a dying human she would be indebted to a Fae. The woman smiled back and took a breath.

“You can call me Haneul.” She told the Fae whose eyes went wide, Yeosang had misjudged the woman

He held out his hand and Haneul slowly took it, smiling at Yeosang before the Demon. He clicked his tongue and looked between his two guests.

“To what do I owe this visit?” Yeosang asked, Haneul found his way of speaking unusual but then again he was hidden deep in a forest

Hongjoong let out an ‘ah’ before he moved closer to Haneul. She gasped silently feeling his hand on her lower back.

“My friend here needs your help with something.” Hongjoong motioned over to Haneul, Yeosang gave a cautious glance and let out a hum

“Won’t you join me inside?” He asked politely and Motioned towards his house. “I would like to properly treat my guest.”

Haneul gulped, cautious around the Fae but Hongjoong just smiled. She didn’t know why she trusted the Demon but he couldn’t do anything to hurt her, if he wanted to Hongjoong had the entire walk in the forest to kill her.

“I’d appreciate that.” Haneul answered

Yeosang led them back around and up to the front door. Hongjoong stepped to the side as Yeosang stepped into his house, Haneul looked inside the door but couldn’t see anything. A hazy almost dreamlike fog floated in the doorway so thick that you couldn’t see anything inside. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, ready to step through and face the Fae. Before she could move, a hand grabbed her wrist.

“Be careful when you go in, watch your words, don’t accept any food or present from him and give him this.” Hongjoong slipped something from his coat, it was a present

“Why are helping me?” Haneul looked down at the present as Hongjoong pushed it into her hands. “We made a deal, I have to help you.”

“Thank you.”

Haneul gripped harder on the present as stepped through the door. She was engulfed by the fog and it felt like she was in a dream but she blinked and the fog had disappeared, the girl was now standing in a quaint little cabin. It was only a bit bigger than her apartment and looked very old fashioned, Yeosang moved quickly in his house flicking his hands and things moved.

“Please sit down.” Yeosang called to Haneul

She nodded and sat down at the table waiting for the Fae to join her. Haneul placed the box on the table and smoothed out her shirt, sitting up tall and properly. It was something she learned from the gods, if you wanted help from them you better act as if you were royalty.

“What are you?” Haneul jumped at the question, confused on what he was asking. Yeosang started towards the table

“I’m sorry?”

“You look and act like a human but Hongjoong doesn’t bring humans around here. The only humans he hangs out with are from the brothels.”

Haneul almost laughed at his words, he was talking like some of the old men she gave wishes to. Her mouth picked up into a smile before realizing, he had been asleep for 100 years according to Hongjoong so of course he’d be talking like he was from the 1900’s.

“How long have you been here?” She asked wanting to confirm her suspicions

Yeosang furrowed his eyebrows, “well, Hongjoong asked me to go get drinks to start off the new century then we got drunk and I said I was just going to a take a nap, so I’m not exactly sure.”

“Hongjoong was right.” She laughed under her breath. “It really has been over 100 years.”

“Would you like some tea?”

“No thank you but to answer your question, I wasn’t human originally. I lost my powers.” Her voice grew quieter as Haneul said the last part

Yeosang chuckled and hummed, drinking from the cup he had gotten from himself. “Ahh so that’s who he brought to me, a fallen angel.”

“A fallen angel?”

Haneul followed the Fae as he lifted up his hand, opening his palm and twigs sprouted up twisting into the shape of a person.

“There are people who are just like angels, they live in what they believe is the perfect world. They have everything they want and live the perfect life. Those people also fall just like those angels, and find that the world isn’t as perfect as they thought.”

Yeosang tipped his hand just enough to send the stick person tumbling forward and off his hand. Slowly it fell until it fell past the table and Haneul was unable to see it anymore. He placed two of his fingertips on the table and ‘walked’ them towards Haneul.

“And then those people come crawling back to Hongjoong and I.” She didn’t understand his words but did not like his voice, it seemed like a threat or like he wasn’t going to help her

Haneul cleared her throat and pushed the present up to the Fae, Yeosang looked at the present with confusion and caution. His eyebrows knitted together as he looked back up at the woman, his eyes asked what is this?

“It’s a gift from Hongjoong.” The woman answered with a smile, Yeosang’s hand moved cautiously forward and grabbed the bow.

His eyes watched the woman closely as he started to pull the bow, Haneul was interested on what was inside the box. She was curious on what present a Demon would get a Fae, he pulled the top off and pulled out what looked like an empty glass dome. Yeosang’s eyes lit up as he stared into the dome and Haneul saw that it wasn’t empty but it held what looked like wiggling green arms.

“What is that?” She asked as Yeosang stood up

He slowly moved to the other side of the house, going up to a shelf and slowly placing it next to some other domes full of other wiggle colorful objects.

“They’re terrariums, unlike humans I enjoy nature and these terrariums will always be here.” He responded but sounded a bit distracted, Yeosang played with the terrariums for a bit

“But there’s things moving inside.”

“That’s what makes them so special, they’re enchanted. Hongjoong knows that I’ve been trying to save parts of the magical world that has been dying out, and these domes are the last of these mythical places.”

“They’re beautiful.”

Haneul stood up and joined him, she watched as the plants moved inside the glass. They twisted and moved searching for something, they almost seemed frantic but as she looked at the others they moved slower.

“What do you need?” Yeosang spat out pulling Haneul back from her thoughts. “There’s a reason Hongjoong sent you in with the present, he’s never turned down an invite.”

Haneul took a deep breath, “I need to get my powers back before the full moon.”

“Ah and so he thought that I could help.” Yeosang nodded, everything finally clicking in his mind

Haneul blurted out, “can you!”

The Fae tsked the girl and shook his head, “eager aren’t you, Hongjoong must’ve told you more.”

“What are you talking about, tell me about what?”

“My powers are bound to these woods, even if I wanted to help you I couldn’t.”

Haneul let out a sigh, clenching her hands. This was how Hongjoong was getting back at her, he couldn’t kill the woman but he could screw with her. She was starting to remember why she didn’t like the Demon.

“But!” Yeosang held up his finger. “We Fae are close with those of another legend, I know a Dokkaebi who can help. He basically a Fae just without all the rules and a lot more mischief.”

Haneul smiled, as long as she was able to get the help she needed. Fae, Dokkaebi, Werewolf, Demon, who knew what Haneul would met next.

#ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez hongjoong #ateez imagine #ateez san #hongjoong #magic #mythical creatures

6 notes · View notes

youaremorethanapet · 1 year

Text

YAMTAP Chapter one!

I opened the door, it was about midday and I was ready to start my shift. I had taken my allergy meds and was prepared to take on the world. 3 big dogs “attacked” me followed by 2 more smaller dogs. Fortunately I was told I didn’t have to walk them the first day. Ms. Bethany George had already walked them. I sighed and plopped down on the couch, petting the biggest dog absentmindedly. I had no idea how much time had passed before I snapped my eyes open to the sound of a loud crash coming from the room down the hall. I stood up slowly, those must be the new pets Ms. George had been talking about. She had made it clear that I should not go in that room, as they needed to settle in.. but… Another loud crash took me out of my thoughts, followed by what sounded like talking. Curiosity peaked, I looked around the room, searching for security cameras before walking towards the door. One of the smallest dogs (beans) pawed at the door, whining. I opened the door slowly, the dogs bursting through the door. I was met by a very anticlimactic sight. It was a guinea pig cage. Just as I was about to leave the room I heard a whisper “See papyrus, it’s just the house sitter. The one Bethany was talking ‘bout.” I snapped around. Oh my god. I approached the cage, looking in, attempting to appear non threatening. “Hello?” in the cage I saw what I’d been waiting all my life to see. I had heard about the monsters from the multiverse only once before, and here they were- Two, small skeletons. Sitting in a guinea pig cage, barely clothed in rags. The taller of the two ran away under a small house. But the smaller one looked up at me with one eye. “‘Sup” it was adorable. Slightly scary, but adorable. Ugly in the cute way. It had a gaping head wound, but it wasn’t bleeding. Just a hole in its head above it’s left eye. It’s right eye socket was empty, but the other was glowing red. It had an adorable cheeky smile and didn’t seem concerned at all. “What’s your name?” I squatted by the cage, trying to reach eye level. “I’m sans, but they call me pet.” He nodded towards the door. “Who?” “Oh, Ms. Bethany.” Sans’s smile seemed to falter. “That’s my brother, papyrus” He pointed towards the house. The taller skeleton peered out of the door, slowly walking out. The taller skeleton had small, pinprick eyes, slightly crooked teeth and yellowed bone. He was absolutely adorable. “HELLO!!” He said, in a louder voice than I expected. Now that I thought about it, for his size, Sans had a pretty low voice, while Papyrus had a more high voice. Neither was shrill, like a guinea pig, I thought, with a chuckle. “WHAT’S YOUR NAME HUMAN?” Papyrus seemed to have regained his confidence and was now peeking through the bars of the cage. “Y/n!” I responded, instantly invigorated by Papyrus’s energy. Sans stood up, dusting off his rags. He put his hand through the bars of the cage for a handshake “nice to meet you Y/n.” I smiled and took his hand. original Ao3 post here: You are more than a pet. Bitty horror sans X Reader (fem pronouns) - Fell_ficti - Undertale (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own] ao3 will be updated more often!!

#you are more than a pet #bitty horror sans #bitty sans #bitty sans x reader #sans x reader #horror sans x reader #horror sans

21 notes · View notes

undertale-museum · 2 months

Text

Reader [Ship]

Fanfiction

Honorable Mentions

[Last updated 14March24]

*Minors Not Permitted*

————————————————————

1. A Puzzle Just For Me

By neroli9

Sans, Reader, Muffet, OC ensemble

Mobtale 1930s, exiled royal

smut, +18, very kinky, RACK

2. Doom and Gloom All Up in Your Room

Trash Collector

Y/N (room owner), Dust, Horror

Domestic reverse harem

3. Poor Little Meow Meow

Mystique & Tall Dumbass

Y/N (vet), Killer

Fluff and Angst

eventual smut

4. Six Skeletons, One Store Clerk

mccloudydayz

Reader, Sans, Paps, Red, Edge, Stretch, Blue +

Domestic, multiverse shenanigans

5. The Soldier and the Carnal Skeletons

Writers_War_Zone

Sans, Red, Horror, Blue

Animal instincts, harem,

smut, kink dynamics

6. Dirty Laundry

popatochisp

Swapfell Sans, Swapfell Papyrus, Reader

Domestic, romance

7. Love Covers a Multitude of Sins

@/bubbleteasing

Red, Reader (nun)

Romance, hard to get

+18, non-con touch, skip day in park (post fire), mafiatale

8. Foramen? Fill me in!

@/velvetwyrme

SF!Papyrus, Reader

+18, sensual, cute, shoelace

9. What will you do?

Wishing Star In A Jar

Human OC, Edge, Sans

+18, smut, graphic violence, non con

10. Saving three Ex-cell-ent Skeletons

Recklessly Caffeinated

Reader (nurse), Sans, Red, Horror

+18, graphic violence, prison, monster racism

11. The Fullfilling Ordeal of Being Known

Night Time Lights

Slash (Fem!Horror), Reader

Smut

#undertale fanfiction #underfell #underswap #horrortale #dusttale #mobtale #underfell sans #underfell papyrus #swap sans #swap papyrus #horror sans #dust sans #sans undertale #undertale

6 notes · View notes

dontaskdonttell01 · 2 years

Text

The Habit Might Kill You Pt1

Pairing: Choi San x reader

Content: college au!, college boy San x college dropout reader (fem)

Warnings: heavy angst cuz thats all i know how to write, smoking and drinking, cursing

Word count: 3407

Summary: It must seem like moving the earth an inch to the right would be easier than growing up. Then being in your 20’s. A chance encounter one night sharing cigarette smoke might push you out of their brain, out of your skin, and into the arms of each other. Maybe you could move the earth that inch…

You felt best when you were easily molded.

At least, that's what you told yourself. Because being wanted was better than wanting yourself.Even if you never admitted it.

Fitting the person's skin for them is like narcotics. Like a sickening high. You get high off of any idea of human connection, validation.You wondered sometimes if you’d go to hell for it. For being molded against your own skin's will. It was easy for you to plaster glue and string to yourself, an unfinished project, decaying on its own at the bottom of a drawer. Found for that moment, and you needed to be a different body for someone else.

You’d go to hell. And you’d be happy about it.

If it meant that the human skin you had stood on this earth in was genuinely loved for who you needed to be for whoever needed it. Whichever skin you sat in when that day came was the skin you would die in, and you would lay in your grave knowing your skin was someone's salvation. Because for the moment, they were yours, and you were theirs.

Or at least you thought.

Nothing about your 20’s was easy. You had graduated high school full of hope, admiration for life's ability to move you forward. You were so ready. You applied and received admission to college. The boxes piled up in your room held every object from the last 18 years of your life, dust and all. You enjoyed the firsts of your newfound adulthood.

Until it all became too much.

A burn out would be putting it too simply, but a mental break would be creating unnecessary worry in others. There was some medium you had found yourself in. A raw, gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your entire life you had been obsessed with leaving some legacy behind. You thought college waS the way to do that. By earning your degree in your field, getting a high paying job and rising to the top. The confidence you owned so settled in your bones that you never knew you were walking on cracked femurs. Your confidence as a facade. You joined clubs and ran for positions on their board. You tutored other peers in your study field. You took exercise classes and dance classes and art classes to try and spark some creative part of your mind. You went to frat parties and danced on tables, but were in bed with a washed face every time before 1am. You cooked your own meals in the dorms. You stayed on your studying through the first semester. You barely visited home and spent every waking minute doing something. Whether it be because it’s truly what you wanted then or because you were trying to stuff a gag in the mouth of the small voice in your head telling you you weren’t meant to be here.

You left after your first year, and you didn’t look back. You had built yourself a kingdom within the walls of that university, and abdicated and fled from the throne. Instead, you found, your legacy would be fading into obscurity. You dropped college after your first year. No one remembered your rule from that kingdom anymore. Your obscurity in that part of your life was comforting. It didn’t come without guilt, and it didn’t come without consequences.

Like tonight.

You huffed, throwing your hair out of your eyes and stomping to the nearest door, pushing patrons of the bar out of your way like they were mannequins. They might as well have been. Your frustration clouding your vision, you barely heard the curses and insults thrown your way as you picked through the crowd blind to try to get to the door. The speakers were too loud, the people were too handsy, the music too frat house like. It was like college all over again, and it was suffocating. Your dress felt too short and your hair was sticking to your neck like glue to paper. You had to get out of that bar, even if it was just for a breath of fresh air.

Fresh air was an exaggeration. You needed a smoke more than anything, and a minute to yourself. Even if every habit you formed your freshman year of college had been made with good intent, you had also picked up smoking, and sadly, it was the only thing you carried with you from your year in that place. It was a way before to meet others outside of frat houses and poetry slams. Now it just landed you in the cold alley of a bar in the heart of the city, alone.

Standing in the alley with your back against the bricks, you looked over each shoulder to ensure no one was around before throwing a hand into your dress, fishing out a lighter. Inside your jacket sat a little tin box, 4 cigarettes inside. Yeji gave it to you for your birthday, labeled it ‘in case of emergencies’ and laughed, warning you it was the last time she would entertain your nasty habit. Now she was restocking it every night you came home smelling like smoke and cheap tequila, stumbling in scuffed heels. She laughed about it every now and then, but you saw the slight alarm behind her eyes.

Putting the stick between your teeth, you flicked the lighter once. No flame came out. You shook it, hoping by some magic it was just a fluke. There was no wind to blow it out. The second, even third time you flicked it, nothing came out.

“Fucking figures,” you mumble, throwing the lighter against the wall across from you.

Just as the plastic hits the ground, the door swings open, and a man steps out into the alleyway. His back is turned to you, and he’s still loudly conversing with someone inside. His voice is mumbled, and you can see the end of a cigarette sticking out of the front of his face. He laughs a low chuckle, letting the door shut in his face, and turns around to face you.

“Oh shit, sorry. Didn’t know you were out here,” he throws his hands up, taken aback by your figure standing across from him.

You looked like a shadow, black stitched hues on your body blending in with the pitch cold of the night. There was no moon tonight, and only the dying lamp littered with moths hanging above his head.

Taking the cigarette between your fingers again, you chuckled, feeling the tequila at the crown of your head and in your fingertips. “You wouldn’t happen to have a lighter would you?”

He huffed, looking you up and down, and leaned on the wall across from you. “Depends. Do you have a name?”

You angled your head down, looking at the plastic on the ground you had disposed of mere seconds ago. Maybe it would be easier to pray for that thing to work before trusting this man with your identity. You had faded into obscurity in this town; why become known now.

You glanced at him over again. This time when you looked at him, he had cocked an eyebrow, waiting for your response. The cigarette still hanging from his lips. You took in the sight of the man in front of you. If you were a shadow, he was the night. Men in this town normally look expensive, but the type of expensive that didn't revere, it flaunted. It crawled around in khakis, powder blue button-ups and unattractive rolex’s. It remained servile to authority until it didn’t benefit them.

This man looked expensive, but in a way that marveled at its own luxury, at its own reflection. Reminiscent of Van Gogh's skeletal masterpiece he hung the cigarette low in his mouth. Two pendants sat on low chains from his neck. Hair long unstyled from the night, but wafted luxurious scents of cyprus. Had dyed parts of his hair. Baggy pants and black boots covered his bottom half, a turtleneck sat on his torso, but had rips in its center and along the neckline and seems that must have cost a pretty penny. Figures. Man of luxury paying thousands to look like a commoner. You wondered if it was out of spite or out of longing.

He shrugged. You took too long to respond. You then watched him, his body curving towards the lighter, igniting the flame and scorching the end of the cigarette. He looked up at you, extending his bones to his sides and took a deep breath in, holding and closing his eyes.

“Y/N.” You finally responded, jealous of the lit Marlboro between his lips and the stagnant one in your hands.

He chuckled again, removing the stick from his lips and blowing the smoke, tossing you the lighter. “Nice to meet you. Tell me,” another drag, another stare into your eyes, '' are you here for the trash alley or the bar? I didn’t see you in there,” He pointed to the door to his right. “I’ve never seen you before either-”

Snatching the lighter from the air, you lit your own cigarette and scoffed at him. “I didn’t see you either, and besides, why should I tell you my answer if I don’t know your name?”

He looked at you for a moment, then stuck his hand in the space between your bodies.

“I’m San.”

“Well, San, thanks for the lighter.” You stashed the plastic into your jacket and took off walking out of the alley.

You heard footsteps come after you. The smoke met you before he did, grabbing your wrist and turning you around.

“Pretty girls don’t get to leave with my lighters without answering my question.” He smirked, showing off perfect teeth. “You’ve never been here before, and I’m here every weekend. Where did you come from?”

“Some girl from some town. Let me guess; college boy? Drowning in beer?” You smiled. You could smell the aristocratic and cocky academic way he held himself from miles away. This man wasn’t fooling you.

But something in the way his fingers grasped your wrist, or the way the cigarette sat between nimble fingers gripped you. The cigarette was seconds and one minor slip from burning you, and you shivered at the heat you could feel from it.

“Where are you going now?” He asked, peering at you through dark eyes.

You knew you could answer him, but the answer your tongue was ready to give was not the truth. You didn’t really know where you were going. Most nights, you wandered the streets. It was too painful to see Yeji waiting in the front room of the apartment, tea in hand and knowing look in her eyes. The cat curled up next to her, feline eyes opening to look at you, knowing all you’ve been and all you’ve done. You didn’t know if it was Yeji or that damn cat you avoided on nights like this. In all his nine lives, that cat had watched you through each one of them, knowing somewhere along the way, you’d lose yourself. It’s how it knew, perched on your windowsill, where you’d be tonight. Attempting mental suicide in the decaying walls of this bar. Or any bar. Because of course, you’d never been to this particular one before. But the cat knew; sharing lighters doesn’t just get you lit cigarettes.

You shrugged. “Pretty lame to go home now. Might just wander. That bar is crawling with college kids, and you all smell like cheap wine.”

He looked at you before speaking, a long stare that garnered more than just empty visual space while he thought about his answer. You didn’t know if it was his level of wastedness or if it was something else, but he looked at you like a map; curious, tracing outlines, peering destinations, and most of all, lost.

“Can I come with you? Not to be a stalker or anything, I just agree with you. Cheap wine makes my sinus’s flare and honestly, I need my lighter back. Let me walk you around, and I might just let you keep that lighter,” He spoke while dropping your wrist. You missed the burn from the cigarette.

You shrugged again. “I don’t know where I’m going.”

“Then let's get lost.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Nope. You’re not even trying!” He laughed, shoving more fries into his mouth than you thought he could physically fit.

“Please. I could smell the business major from 7 miles away,” You scoffed.

“Please entertain me on why I reek of business major!” He spoke with a full mouth, trying to garner a laugh out of you.

The two of you were sitting on the curb across from the local food truck. The old bat inside never slept, so it was the perfect spot for midnight food runs. You asked once why she didn’t sleep, why she kept the shutters open long after dusk settled. She told you there wasn’t much to dream about anymore, slid your change back, and went back to the fryer. You didn’t ask any further after that.

You’d spent the better half of the night with this man. The first 15 minutes after you’d agreed you walked in almost complete silence. Stealing side glances from each other, you guessed San couldn’t have been that drunk. No man who had had too much to drink would start a conversation asking you your favorite art piece while walking through the empty streets of the fish market. You could entertain the thought of a barely tipsy man walking you around Seoul for the better half of the moon’s residence in the sky. You knew better than to let men be with you alone, but something about the lost look in his eyes told you he was no better or no worse than you were. Lost men don’t seek comfort in lost women. They seek gentle company.

“Well, I can guess your shirt cost more than my shoes to rip up and sell. You gave your lighter away without question, you play mind games with me, like you’re trying to sell me some useless garbage out of whatever answer I can give you. Plus, business majors always wear Becket and Simonens and I can bet money on you owning at least 6 pairs of them.”

“So you settle for cliches rather than thinking about it? Like truly thinking about it? I don’t believe you’re actually guessing, I think you’re playing the lazy way out and playing dumb so I feed you the answers. Try again.” He set his basket down on the street in front of him, turning to look at you.

You truly looked at him this time, mirroring his position next to you on the curb. You knew all along where his future would take him. You couldn’t guess where your life was going if someone held a gun to your head. But you basked in the future of other people. Of knowing their futures and knowing who they would be. After all, you fit their molding. It’s the only way you keep grounded. So you took in his honey dipped eyes and easily began to pour resin, to start fitting the mold and the skin this man was. When a soul is so lost, it begins to observe. It begins to memorize. It begins to call the winning numbers of other souls before they’re announced.

“You’re a dancer.”

He started slow clapping, salt from the fries falling from his fingers. “Explain to me why you lied. You knew the entire time.”

You scoffed, a laugh slipping from you. “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“What’s wrong with asking questions?” He asked, putting another fry from his basket into his mouth.

“There’s rules to meeting strangers.” You laughed, looking away from him and into the street ahead of you.

There’s a beat of silence then, and you watch as a light across the street in an apartment goes out. Another soul lost to the night.

“‘The rules, like streets, can only take you to known places’” He states.

You look at him again. “Ocean Vuong” How on earth has this man put his finger on you this fast?

“If there’s one thing my mother taught me, it’s the beauty of literature. If you’ve never read On Earth we are Briefly Gorgeous, you have to.”

“It’s one of my favorite books. Are you some sort of wizard?” You questioned. You started fitting his mold, slowly. Dripping resin into the holes like dew on grass.

“Not a wizard, just a dancer” He chuckled. “Rules are pointless. I ask you these questions because, shit, maybe I want to know how you think. Maybe I walked out of that bar and wanted to know what this dark figure thought of me. Maybe I’m testing how I’m being perceived. If I should leave you now because I’ve weirded you out or if I should order another coke from that old lady and dig into your brain more.”

“Most sensible men follow the rules.” You shot back, putting your head in your hands and your elbows on your bent knees in front of you.

“Baby, who said I was sensible?”

You laughed, a low giggle in the back of your throat. “Definitely not your attire.”

He held his hands up. “Okay, okay enough about me. Tell me about you, but not the cliche shit. Do you write?”

You nodded.

He snapped his fingers at you. “Perfect. Tell me about you, but say it to me like how you’d write.”

“Is this normally how you pick up women? Make them share their vulnerabilities with you? Should I be worried?” You backed your torso away from him slightly.

“No. You don’t have to share that with me if you don’t want to. But women who read Vuong normally don’t smoke cigarettes outside of college bars. You just intrigue me.”

“I don’t really know who I am,” you said slowly, looking to the ground.

“Not a single person in their 20’s knows exactly who they are. If you say you know who you are, you’re full of shit. But there’s something about yourself that you know, and I’d love to know it. Maybe I’ll share myself with you too.”

You wished you could tell him the level of lost you were. How aimless your life felt. How cigarette smoke was clearer than your extended lifeline. You’d love to tell him how much of a stranger you really were when you had to lie still in your own molding. But you barely knew this man, knew this San. What made you think a man you met 2 and a half hours ago would want to know your battles?

You looked at him another moment. Damn that cat in your windowsill. Damn that mold. Damn this man's eyes.

You coughed dramatically. “‘unapologetic womanhood suits those who wish to embrace it. if you don’t want to, it’s your choice. But I choose mine. fuck women, fuck men, get drunk, smile at bullshit, smoke cigarettes and tell those around me about the best years, even when they weren’t the best, maybe get into a car crash, regret my music taste, read too little when it’s all I should be doing. ill just be a woman. because it’s not like there’s anything else to do, or like I would want to be anyone else.”

He looked at you, and for a moment, you could see an outstretched road in his eyes. You could dream of sparks behind them.

“Fuck,” He whispered.

You blushed, and thanked god every day forward that night was still in full bloom. “Your turn.”

He stood up after a moment of staring at you, brushing his hands off on his pants. “Let me take you out sometime. Maybe then I’ll share my story with you.”

You’d curse yourself for it one day. So would Yeji and that damn cat. But you agreed, and wasted the night on those empty streets. When you went home that night, you left the cigarette container on the table like you always would. But when Yeji would wake up in the morning to refill its insides, it wouldn’t be empty. She’d smile, and this time the laugh she gave you when you woke the next morning didn’t make her eyes gloss with alarm, but shine with some sort of hope.

#choi san #san angst #san ateez #i made this for my bestie #not a one shot #ateez au #san fanfic #ateez fanfic

26 notes · View notes

ao3feed-undertale1 · 6 months

Text

The Queen of the Night

read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51009151 by Esqui (Esquisitome) The kingdom of Shadetalle was once known as a place of struggle and prosperity, where determined souls could breathe and chart their paths in both conflict and peace, in the grand army of warriors or as skilled artisans. All the ancient glory is gone now; Shadetalle is known today as a pit, trench, the world's pit. Its once great empire crumbles through the fingers of an evil ruler. Or Hate is an arrogant and petty prince. Killer is an endless joker and a faithful assassin of the crown, about to strike a highly profitable deal for the realm. Marriages are often excellent political agreements. Words: 3809, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Undertale (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi Characters: Nightmare (Character), Dreamtale Nim (Undertale), Dream Character, Killer Sans - Character, horror sans, Sans (Undertale), Hate sans Relationships: Sans/Sans (Undertale), Nightmare/Killer, Nightmare/Ccino, Nightmare/Dust, Nightmare/Horror, Bad Sans Poly, HATE/Nightmare Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Empireverse (Undertale), Royalverse, Royals, Fem Nightmare, Queen Nightmare, Human read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51009151

#ao3feed #ao3undertalefeed #fanfic #undertale #undertale-fanfic

0 notes

hellomightmare · 2 years

Text

Yay it’s time for Horror sans!

Part 4 of fem human bad sans

She has a lot of scars from the fight but mostly from Gaster blasters

She’s 7ft 9 and really strong and kind chubby as well from eating a lot after not being able to for years

Had a lot of problems with food like hoarding them in her room and eating not then she needs in case she can’t for awhile

Her Papyrus dose not live in horror tale instead living in another au after Error took him from it, Horror travels to se whim a lot

She had to cut some of her body part off to feed Papyrus things like one of her breast and her fingers, Dust wants to make new body parts for her but can’t get tut right yet

Missing a eye like before, but had a eyepatch to some what cover it, the around around her eye is ripped and she really doesn’t like seeing it so she cover it up

Horror has tried to eat almost every sans, he mostly bits his teammates and some just let him because it’s not hurting them so why not

#fem human sans #female horror #female horror sans #genderbend #genderbend horror sans #genderbend horror #bad sans headcannon #bad guy sans headcannon #bad guy sans horror #horror sans #Undertale #Undertale aus #undertale headcanons #art #fanart #fanart horror sans #fanart horror #horror sans art

5 notes · View notes

lorykitty02 · 3 years

Text

CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY ♡

WOOO MY VERSION OF FEM!HUMAN HORRODUST-

Dust looks like a rip-off Harley Quinn and Horror is basically an E-Girl, nice.

Idk what tag to put.

#horrodust #horrordust fanart #undertale au #my art #undertale fanart #horrortale #dusttale #horror sans art #horror sans fanart #dust sans fanart #dust sans #horror sans #dusthorror #horror sans x dust sans #dust sans x horror sans #sanscest #Fem! Human Dust Sans #Fem! Human Horror Sans

16 notes · View notes

atozfic · 3 years

Text

blushing red.

pairing. choi san x fem!reader.

synopsis. how did choi san go from wanting to protect you like a big brother to wanting to ruin you with his own two hands? ( part of the rainbow riots anthology series. )

warnings. college au, barista!san, brother!wooyoung, frenemies to lovers, angst, fluff, ossessiveness, pining, shit attempts at humour, too much cursing, san is a whipped idiot, reader is kinda a bitch, jongho is a fuckboy, wooyoung’s just trying to be a chef, okay?, mentions of alcohol induced vomiting, food, toxic traits and commitment issues, smut: dom!san, switch!reader, clit play, nipple play, thigh riding, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), one (1) spank, riding, protected sex, penetrative sex, kinda fluffy sex??, very brief aftercare, idk if there’s anything else.

word count. 11k

hyde’s input. if this flops, honestly don’t think i’d care because i had so much fun writing this. it was mostly self-indulgent. it’s not the best but i’m happy to finally be posting it, since it’s the first part of a larger series of oneshots involving the ateez members. feedback would be appreciated but also, i really don’t care if you don’t like this. i love it and my opinion is golden, so. /j

He’s seeing red.

And it wasn’t because of the countless red dresses that were scattered throughout the room, nor the messily done ties strangled around sweaty necks; the red cups filled with bitter liquids, nor the crimson flushed cheeks of guests.

It was a red themed evening, to which San could only think of how horribly cliché it was, and how perfectly suiting to the girl the party was being thrown in honour of, the human embodiment of what it meant to be red; to be passionate and courageous; angry and powerful. The very same girl he was watching swallow the tongue of some rosy cheeked, red haired punk.

As the drink in his hand parted his lips, a wave of intoxication slipping down his throat, San couldn’t help but think about how the boy was clearly all bark and no bite. He knew him- well, of him, at the very least,- this so called Choi Jongho. A notorious flirt; a ladies man; the kind of boy who you punch for even looking your little sister’s way. San was too prideful, he’d been told this by exes and friends alike, and it’s that very same pride that had him laughing aloud at the way the Jongho kid couldn’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands; at how his eyes were wide open; at how he was using far too much tongue for it to be comfortable.

Maybe, San wondered, it was the perfect excuse to storm over there, tear Jongho and his wagging tongue away. After all, he couldn’t just stand back and watch you be choked to death by the kid’s kissing inabilities!

He opts for tearing the lid off of another beer instead of the head off of Jongho.

There’s a chance it was already past one too many drinks for him that night but San had never been good at controlling himself, of denying himself something he wanted. So he welcomed in the drink and finally looked elsewhere in the room.

The decorations told him this wasn’t the surprise party it was meant to be, because he knew your older brother well enough. Hell, there’s a high chance he knew more about the eldest Jung sibling than he did about himself. Wooyoung barely knew how to tie his own shoe laces, never mind the perfect ribbon, and he was more into getting baked than learning how to bake a cake. If San tried hard enough, he could perfectly picture you in the kitchen, an apron loosely tied around one of your usually effortlessly pretty outfits- one of those tightfitting sweaters you loved so much tucked into a loose fitting skirt, or a pretty little summer dress, or a stupidly oversized graphic tee you bought from the men’s department covering a pair of laughably short shorts; all enough to drive the blood straight out of San’s brain and down to his other head-, your hair a complete mess with the slightest bit of flour dusting your flushed cheeks as you squint to read at your phone, too stubborn to wear your glasses and too lazy to put in your contact lenses.

Yes, you’d definitely played a hand in setting up your own surprise birthday party and it suddenly had San wishing he was enjoying himself more. But, you see, enjoyment is a hard thing to feel when the girl you only recently accepted your complicated feelings for was swapping pints of saliva with some other guy across the room. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak to you once the whole night, not even a moment to wish you a happy birthday.

It wasn’t like San should have cared that much. You hadn’t even invited him, his reason for being there the very same one he had any time he came round your house: Wooyoung. The boy had more-or-less told him he was attending, whether he liked it or not, because “I’ll be damned if I’m stuck chaperoning this party by myself.”

San often thought Wooyoung forgot there was only really one year between you two. But, you were his little sister and it only seemed right he thought of you as the smiling idiot who would run over to him in tears every time you tripped over your untied laces and scraped your knee. The dimpled boy couldn’t stop himself from wondering when he’d stopped thinking of you that way.

Where he once had thoughts of protecting you from the corruption men and their intentions brought along, he now fantasized about being the man to corrupt you. If only Wooyoung were really capable of reading his mind the way he claimed he could, San’s medical bills would be sky-high.

“I don’t remember seeing you on the guest list, Choi.” The words were a little slurred, like their owner wasn’t quite aware of the fact they were speaking, but it was enough to make San jump where he stood, head turning away from staring off at some deflating balloon.

There you were, a sight for sore eyes. The lipstick you’d once been wearing had been diminished to no more than a tint of playful redness on your lips, the rest of it likely now painted across Jongho's tongue. Your hair was tied back in a neat bun and, though it was displaying your pretty little neck and your doe eyes, San thinks of how much prettier it was when it was an unkept mess, like all those mornings after sleeping over in Wooyoung’s room and coming down for breakfast just to find you and your bedhead angrily trying to scoop up the last few bits of your cereal.

“Guest list?” he scoffed, his frustrations coming out in the form of disinterest. “Do you think you’re the fucking queen of England or something?”

“Trust me, you’d be long ago thrown in a bottomless pit by now if I were the queen of anything.” Your reply was weak and that’s enough to satisfy him, because he knew you were irked. San knew you believed he was one of the most annoying things to grace earth and he revelled in it. Any boy with a set of lips and some smooth words could make you swoon, but no other could get you hot and bothered like Choi San. “Where’s your boyfriend? Ditched you to go socialize with someone besides you for once?”

“Wooyoung’s cleaning up your friend’s vomit from off of your parents’ carpet.” The horrified look that crossed your face was enough to coax a chuckle out of San.

The Jungs had never been overly strict parents during your childhood, never holding either of their children back from pursuing a hobby or from enjoying their youth, but there was always one rule they maintained: no party guests allowed past the ground floor of the house. And, even if Wooyoung and you were grown up, with your brother dearest no longer living at home and you spending most your weeknights in your cramped dorm room, the rule still stood firmly.

“Oh my god-” It was the first thing you choked out after a few minutes of silently spiralling in your own panicked thoughts. “They just got a new carpet. And it’s the whitest fabric i’ve ever seen. They’re going to kill us!”

“Us?” San scoffed out, liking the sound of it a little too much and in such a different context to the way you meant it. “Oh, no, this is on you. I’m not going down with you,” Though he’d have gladly gone down on you. “you’re big and ugly enough to face the consequences for your own mistakes.”

Despite saying that, his feet still seemed to carry him out of the room and trailing behind your fast walking figure. If he weren’t so busy trying to keep up with you, maybe San would have taken note of how, in a sea of red, you still managed to stand out, your ruby jumpsuit somehow just a little brighter, a little more intriguing, a little more alluring than any other piece of fabric in the house. Maybe San would have realised it wasn’t so much your outfit as it was just you in general who stood out.

But, alas, he’d now caught up to you on the stairs and he noticed the glassy shine in your eyes and the sudden look of complete sobriety on your features. Both in pace with each other, you reached the entry to your parents bedroom and stumbled upon the scene of the crime.

Kneeling on the carpeted floor, Wooyoung was scrubbing at a fresh stain, the scent of bleach and fabric cleaner not nearly enough to mask the scent of the drying vomit. There was no sight of the perpetrator, likely sent away long ago by Wooyoung, alongside whatever stranger she’d been in the middle of trying to seduce. It’s honestly a blessing she threw up. Better that than a pair of strangers fucking in the Jung’s marital bed.

“Are you both gonna just stare or are you gonna start helping me?” Wooyoung was pissed and you knew this just as much as San did. But he wasn’t going to show it yet, not until the mess was cleaned up and a plan was made. Then, and only then, would he begin quizzing you on how you managed to remember the stupidest details of your decorations yet you forgot to lock the door to the upstairs area.

San stepped in first, grabbing a load of tissues and kneeling down next to his friend, beginning to scrub at the dark spots. You soon followed suit and joined the pair. The three of you worked in silence, all hoping that if you tried hard enough, the evidence of the sin would disappear from right in front of your eyes.

The echoes of music from the party going on downstairs suddenly felt like a taunt to San, mocking all of you. Because, ideally, that was where you should all be. Down there getting senselessly drunk and bumping elbows with people who’s faces you knew yet didn’t care much for. Instead, you were thinking of ways to avoid your parents impending disappointment. Surely acquiring a new identity couldn’t be that hard, right?

San was the first one to notice a repeated sniffle in the room. At first, he tried convincing himself you were just coming down with a cold. But, the more the sound repeated itself in a perfect pattern, the sooner he noticed your tear streaked face.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Hands had now abandoned damp towelettes, reaching up to wipe at hot tears. He willed himself to ignore the burn of your soft skin against his rougher hands. San looked to Wooyoung for help because, fuck, he may have known you since you were both in elementary school but his comfort was still no replacement for your brother’s. Woo was so busy trying not to blow his fuse that he couldn’t even think to stop scrubbing at the white fabric for a moment, so San took it upon himself. “Go back down to the party, okay?

“N-no, I can’t just leave this mess-”

“Y/N.” San spoke softly, his eyes trying to stare into your own, his hands gripping your shaking shoulders gently, as if letting you go would cause you to fall apart but holding you too tight would snap you in half. “You’re going to go and enjoy the rest of your birthday, do you understand? Woo and I will deal with this.”

The moment was much nicer than your usual exchanges as of recently, and for a moment San felt like he still was protective over you like when you were all younger. You were staring at him with this look of nostalgia, like you were trying to remember the times you’d ran to San crying over your scrapped knees, when you couldn’t find your big brother. How he’d treat your little wound the same way his mother treated his: a band aid, a kiss and a lollipop. Even Wooyoung had noticed the exchange, his hands froze and his eyes focused in on the way you two were staring at each other like you were the only people in the room. So, of course, San had to go ahead and ruin it.

“Your snot and tears are just gonna give us more stains to clean anyway.”

As San wiped at the table, he questioned how exactly people managed to make such a sticky mess of things in the few hours the café was open. It had become a never ending saga, each time he was stuck with the responsibility of locking up and closing for the day, he ended up spending far more time than acceptable cleaning the surfaces thanks to customers and their inability to clean up their own spillages.

It’s not like it costs them anything to use a napkin. But, then again, maybe San was just in a sour mood over how Wooyoung was too busy trying to convince his culinary professor to give him a better grade, by feeding him some chocolate gateau and sucking his dick.

A month or so had passed since the birthday party, and San hadn’t heard much of you. There was the odd mention of your name through the walls of the apartment he shared with Wooyoung, when you’d call your brother in the early hours of the morning and beg him to come pick you up from some frat house.

Though, there were two recent things about you that San knew for sure.

To begin with, you'd for some reason began to date the Jongho kid. A fact which Wooyoung confided to San made him uncomfortable one night on their sofa, between beers and cold noodles. San could only feign confusion when Wooyoung ranted about how much he distrusted the kid and his intentions with you, no matter how much he’d wished he could shout out his agreement in that moment. The second thing he knew was that you had still not thanked him.

San was struggling to pinpoint which fact made him more frustrated.

The radio played softly in the background of his labour and San couldn’t contain himself when a familiar song came on, swaying his hips in time with the beat, swigging the rag in his hand, mumbling the lyrics to himself as he became lost in the liberating feeling of being alone. No one to watch or question him. It made him work quicker, even if San didn’t notice this. He quickly finished up with the surfaces and was on to sweeping the floors, just like how the radio station moved on to the next song.

Any business open in the surrounding area must have been startled by the sudden scream of terror that came from the café as San, with the brush mid-dipped in his arms, came face to face with a puffy, tear stained girl.

Letting the brush fall from his arms, San tried to laugh off the embarrassment of being caught in his own little world. The radio still played in the background, but it fell on deaf ears the second he noticed the redness of your eyes.

“Sorry,” you mumbled out, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder as your eyes appeared to dart around the room, searching for someone. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just, uh... wondering if Wooyoung is here?”

Taking a daring step forward, San took note of the sundress you were adorned in, the red flowers painted on to a white background so fitting to the way he’d began to see you as something innocent with splashes of sin within you. “Nah, the fucker ran off two hours ago with the excuse of having after-hour classes.”

The scoff you let out was filled with defeat and your shoulders slumped a little, undoing that picture perfect image you tried to pull off most days, leaving you with nothing but your real emotions stained across your features and the sting of unfallen tears returning to your eyes. “Typical, he’s always busy when I need him most.” You mostly aimed the words to yourself but it doesn’t mean San was going to just ignore them.

The time he’d spent cleaning the counter became meaningless, San having set his sights on cheering you up with the one way he remembered always working when you two were younger. The radio quickly became drowned out by the whistle of the kettle boiling. His eyes found their way back to you. You’d sat yourself down in one of the booths, head in your hands whilst you appeared to be mumbling away to yourself. What San wouldn’t have given to be inside your head, figure out just what he needed to do to keep you away from any harm the world tried to inflict upon you.

Turning his back to you, San grabbed two mugs, the memory of hearing you complain to Wooyoung about how paper cups aggravated you fresh in his mind. He worked by muscle memory, not needing to think over the right amount of each ingredient to pour in. His shoulders relaxed upon glancing back at you for the third time, noticing you’d pulled your hands away from your face and were instead staring out the window. The water, finally having boiled, was poured into each mug alongside some milk and a sprinkle of salt to enhance the flavours.

With four long strides, San reached the booth you had claimed for yourself, sliding the mug into your line of view. His heart nearly melted like the marshmallows in the beverage when he saw the hint of smile take over your features. He felt accomplished, like he’d reached the goal he’d set out to achieve. It gave him the confidence boost he needed to slide in across from you.

“I can’t remember the last time I had hot chocolate.” You confessed, after taking your first sip of the drink, nose scrunching up as the sweet heat burnt your tongue.

“That’s sad.” He wished, for a moment, he’d said something else. But the sound of your snorted laughter, different to the laughs laced in politeness you gave to other people, had his chest further swelling in pride.

“You and Wooyoung hang out too much, you’re starting to sound like him.” In all honesty, it wasn’t the first time he’d been told that very same thing. But it stung coming from you. He didn’t want to be just another version of your brother, not in your eyes.

But San’s desire to comfort you took precedence over any of his complicated feelings, so if playing the role of your brother was what the job required, he was willing to cut off some inches from his own height and dye his hair the same root-killing blonde as Woo.

“Speaking of that troll,” Another point in favour of San: you laughed again. “wanna tell me what you needed him for? Full offence, you burst in here with the face of a toddler who’d had it’s toys snatched.”

San caught the sugar packet you’d thrown at him with ease. “Why are you such an asshole?” The words were more of a whine leaving you, followed by a groan. “I know you think that you owe it to Wooyoung or whatever to treat me like your own little sister but you don’t. I just... wanted Wooyoung because I wanted his comfort and, i don’t know, maybe a goddamn hug from him would have been nice. But it’s whatever, the moment’s passed.”

He decided against replying, feeling nothing he said would matter much. You were clearly still upset, there was no need for him to try dig further into something you didn’t want to talk about. So he kept quiet and never spoke once, until he noticed you’d finished your hot chocolate.

“Get up.” He ordered after beginning to slide out of his seat, grabbing the two dishes. It would have taken him a few minutes at best to wash them, dry them, put them away but you were his priority. Whoever had the opening shift could deal with them.

You’d done as he asked, standing up and readjusting your bag. Unbeknownst to San, your eyes followed him around the room, for once, as he done the last few checks of everything being in it’s place and everything locked up where it was supposed to be. The blonde peaking out from under his dark hair was something you were sure he didn’t have at your birthday.

You’d began to notice little changes in him in the recent months. His face had gotten a little sharper, his arms a little buffer, his smile a little more charming. In all the years you’d known him, you’d never cared much about what he looked like or how he acted. He was always just there, the boy who your brother hung out with. Now he was becoming an enigma, like a puzzle you’d solved once before but now something was off about it. A couple pieces had been changed and you couldn’t figure out when it had happened.

Had he really changed or was it something in you, giving you a whole new outlook on his features?

“Are you coming or what?” San snapped you right back into reality, the lights now turned off in the café and the cold wind from outside floating in through where he stood holding the door open. Flustered, you rushed past him out the door and San enjoyed the lingering scent of your shampoo. But the sight of you already beginning to walk away had him quickly trying to lock the door, nearly cursing when the key got stuck for a second before finally rushing after you. “Uh uh, you’re not going to wallow in self pity back in your dorm. C’mon, let’s go.”

“This could be considered kidnapping, you know.” Your words were contradicted by the way you willingly let him take a hold of your wrist, dragging you in the direction of his car. “Can I at least know where you’re planning on dumping my body after you murder me?”

Shooting a wink over his shoulder, San chuckled. “You’ll see.”

“Would you stop staring at me like that? It's fucking creepy, dude.”

Similar to the sugar packet, San caught the fry you threw at him with ease. He shot a smile your way after popping the potato treat into his mouth and you wondered if his dimples had always been deep enough to swim in. “I'm trying to figure out if you're really that much of an idiot or just naïve.”

“For someone who offered to help, you're not doing a good job.”

The car journey had been interesting, to say the least. With the radio cranked up at a volume too high to drive safely with, San was a man on a mission. A mission to put on the performance of a lifetime. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel, his head bopped to the beat, his lungs forced him to sing along to every song. At first, you'd simply sat in the passenger seat, trying your best to not let him see how you were stealing glances at him. But then you were pulled under by his waves, his energy intoxicating your own. The smile he gave you as he pulled up to a red light, his attention completely on you, was enough to make any embarrassment slip away and it became the green light to let loose, joining him in his one man show.

He'd pulled over at a familiar place, the Neo-Cade. Somewhere you could recall celebrating many birthdays, where the boy- no, the man sat in the drivers seat next to yours had once taken a punch to the face whilst foolishly trying to stand up to a group of older boys teasing you and your friends.

It had taken five days to get the blood out of his school uniform.

Memories aside, San had taken the incentive once again to grab onto your wrist and, a little more willingly this time, you let him. Despite how you both walked shoulder to shoulder, his hand remained holding you, as if you'd somehow drift away from him in the sea of families filling up the neon-lit arcade. After a few botched attempts at beating him in skee-ball, and a successful attempt at outracing him in one of those driving games- to which you'd laughed in his face over the fact he was the one with the driving license out of you both-, San convinced you to grab a bite to eat in the small dining area. It was a hotspot for preteens on their first date, parents attempting to avoid their screaming children and, now, you two, who were somewhere between strangers and life-long friends.

“Watch it. I’m your ride home, princess.” He would have been lying if he said he didn’t find some thrill in the way your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed at the sudden pet-name. What excited him more was the fact it wasn’t the first time he’d called you that but it was certainly the first time you’d given him that reaction. “Listen, when you tell me you got stood up by a guy who’s a known womanizer, you can’t expect me to not judge you a little bit. I thought Wooyoung had done a better job at teaching you how to stay away from assholes.”

“Considering who his best friend is, Wooyoung isn’t exactly leading by example.” You mumbled before biting into your burger, irritated that he actually had a point more than anything else. “Ugh. Look, I know it’s my own fault but I just got caught up. In my defence, Jongho really did seem interested in me. The dude literally pursued me for two months! But the second I agree to a date, he’s suddenly changed his mind? Guess the chase was the only thing he wanted.”

“You’re not the first girl he’s led on, it’s what people like him do best.” San’s eyes seemed more apologetic this time, as if he didn’t think you were a complete idiot. Maybe a little naïve, yes, and stupidly blind to the fact someone was sat right in front of you who would chase you to hell and back. Blaming you for falling for someone’s charms wasn’t something he could do, though. “You know what we need to do?”

If only San knew how your nerves tingled with excitement at the word we. “Enlighten me, Bok Choi.”

It was his turn to throw a fry at you, which you failed to catch and hurried to pick up from the floor, a few parents glaring at you both, likely questioning what a pair of college kids were doing throwing food at one another. “Didn’t you promise your mum you’d stop calling me that in Junior year?”

“I guess things have changed since then.” Neither of you had the guts to admit you weren’t referring to the awful nickname.

“Anyway, we need to get you to that whack-a-mole machine and have you picture Jongho’s face on them. You’ll get the high score in no time,” The conversation came to a pause as a crash rang out through the area, the image of the young waitress that had served you both profusely apologising to a larger gentleman covered in pizza sauce becoming the centre of attention for most, if not all, people sat at a table. “which would win us a free milkshake to split.”

“Why would we be splitting it? I’m the one who put in the effort.”

“And I’m the one who put in the money. It’s a collaborative job, not just a feature.” There were so many things he’d had to work himself up to do this evening: sitting across from you in the café, offering to comfort you, holding you by your wrist. But his next move didn’t even process itself properly before he was doing it, hand reaching over the table to swipe at the sauce painting the corner of your lip, his eyes locking on yours when he brought his dirtied thumb up to his mouth.

A cold sweat broke out on the back of your neck, your mind sending you into a spiral of thoughts of San in compromising positions, cleaning more than just a little sauce off of his fingers. It’s embarrassing how much he’d affected you, and completely against your nature to let him know. “You’re gross, you know?”

You never ended up winning that high score, nor the free milkshake that came with it. Neither of you cared. You were too lost in reliving your childhoods, hands cramped from the amount of intense labour they’d endured by the time closing hours arrived.

The drive back to your dorms was more mellow. The music acted only as background noise to your exchange of drunken Wooyoung tales. San had nearly swerved out of his lane when you told him about the time you’d woken up to find Wooyoung, drenched in the stench of cheap alcohol, flirting with his reflection in the mirror.

It was bittersweet to step out of his car. Even if you were beginning to feel a little tired, you weren’t exactly ready for the night to end. And neither was San. Maybe that’s why he offered to walk you to the entry of your building, and why you so eagerly accepted. The disappointment when he doesn’t take a hold of your wrist is something you could address some other time.

“Well done, Choi, I actually feel better” And you really meant it, both of you having come to a stop outside the entryway, bashful smiles on each of your faces.

“Had to prove to you I’m just as good at the job as Wooyoung is.” The words felt wrong in his own mouth and, this time, he didn’t miss out on the way disappointed look on your features. When you suddenly leapt forward, arms crashing around him, it felt too good to be true. The memory of you in the café, ranting on about your reasons for being there and wanting a hug from Wooyoung, gave him the courage to wrap his own arms around you.

“Thank you.” You spoke so softly into his chest he nearly thought he’d imagined it, if it hadn’t been for the way he felt you say it. His reply was non-verbal, a tightening of his arms to pull you even closer, no fear of the fact you’d very easily be able to hear his heart beating for you. “For tonight, and for taking the fall for the vomit in my parents room. I don’t know what you done to make them think you can do no wrong but they were far more worried at the thought that you’d possibly drank too much, than their stained carpet.” Finally, the thank you he’d been waiting for had been gifted to him.

It ignited a fire in him, awakened the sleeping dragon filled with desire in his heart. There’s no way you didn’t notice the beating of his heart, hitting so hard against his chest it could almost escape right into your embrace. But San wasn’t nervous. In fact, he was feeling more confident than he had in years around you, pulling back just enough for you to notice and gaze up at him. The only real thing that crossed his mind was how beautiful you looked, eyes filled with wonder and joy, smile etched with happiness; a happiness he’d brought you; and how, if he were to be struck down dead in that moment, San would die a happy man.

“San.” You breathed out his name, the sound becoming tangled and lost between you both.

Your eyes remained wide open unlike his own as he brought his forehead to rest against yours, exhaling out the last pieces of his resistance. “Tell me to let go of you, Y/N. Tell me to let go and I’ll wish you good night. I’ll drive home and I’ll never bother you again as anything other than your brother’s friend.”

The first kiss was experimental, your own eyes fluttering shut as you planted a peck against his jelly pink lips, unsure of if it was to shut him up or to just kiss him. It was enough to have his own eyes snap open, staring at you in disbelief. His lips stung, kissed by your poison and now needing the antidote. A couple of seconds felt like years, he had to regain his composure and kiss you. The second, third and fourth kiss were similar to the first, teasing pecks exchanged until San’s hand wound it’s way up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your bottom lip before he finally gave in to the carnal need, head tilting at the perfect angle and lips smashing against your own.

Your knees weakened under the weight of his kiss, head buzzing as he nipped at your lip, practically begging you to let his tongue in. The satisfied groan that left him as the kiss deepened had your mind spinning, wanting to do anything in your will power to illicit more noises from him. You’d kissed plenty of people in your life and they were all beginning to pale in comparison to him.

“Could you guys, like, move?”

You both shot apart in an instant, ashamedly staring at the girl who rolled her eyes and pushed her way through the doors, books in hand and an earphone occupying one ear. The electricity between you had gone out, the spark dead and leaving you both to bask in its wake. That same silence from the café returned and, standing no more than two steps away from you, San felt the distance between you both more than ever. He was fighting to apologise, claim it was the heat of the moment and he hadn’t been thinking straight. But he couldn’t lie to you like that. It’s all he’d been thinking about all night, many nights before too.

“Well, uhm, thanks again. Okay, bye.” You’d raced away from him, running from the tension and all the things you wanted to confess, leaving San to wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t been interrupted, if you were allowed to bring him up to your dorm.

There were times where even San questioned his decisions. Like now, waking up to a pounding in his head and the distinct memory of having thrown up in the back of his poor friend’s car. He mentally noted to send the guy some sort of apology gift, having turned what was meant to be their first night out together in months into his own personal pity party, leaving his tall friend- and his even taller friend- to have to clean up after San like he cleaned up after his two year old son.

The realization of how long he’d slept- the time on his phone reading that it was ten o’clock at night- had him falsely promise he’d never touch another drop of alcohol. In a zombified state, he pulled his aching body out of bed, groaning as he stumbled over his trousers from the night before. For a moment he thought he’d gone mad, a sudden laughter track ringing in the distance as if they were mocking him. The thought dawning on him that it was just Wooyoung watching something in the living room was definitely a relief.

Three stumbles, two rinses of his teeth and one sold out concert in his shower later, San stared into the mirror of his bathroom and saw something that resembled a human. Tying the string of his grey sweatpants and shrugging off the idea of a t-shirt, he made his way out into the living area, expecting to find his roommate spread across the couch only to be let down at the sign of emptiness. The television played on but Wooyoung was nowhere in sight.

A Jung-like scream pierced the air, causing San to jump back and let out his own, much quieter, scream.

“What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?! This is literally my apartment, what are you doing here?” San shot back at you in an instant. If his head weren’t ringing and he wasn’t so confused, he’d be thinking about how nice it was to see you, after two weeks of wondering if the arcade, and everything that came with and after it, had just been some lucid dream of his. That hurt less than the thought of you regretting the kiss.

“I was helping my brother organise our parents anniversary party,” you paused, eyes slowly moving down his body. The air felt colder upon remembering he was stood half naked in front of you. “but then he got a call from some girl and ran out, promising he’d be back in an hour tops. That was almost two hours ago.”

“Oh.” If there were an award for lamest thing said, San would be a strong contender. He crossed his arms over his chest, in an attempt to cover at least something, but it just drew more attention to the fact he was shirtless.

“Don’t worry, I was about to leave. I’ll be out your hair in a minute, I just need to grab something from Woo’s room.” The words enter one ear and leave through the other, not really translating properly in San’s brain until you’ve already pushed past him.

The panic settled in quickly from there, the overwhelming knowledge that he wasn’t ready to let you walk away this time hitting him like a train. You quickly emerged into his line of view once more, purse in hand, and the only thing he could think to do was to step in your way. When you attempted to move around him, his hand found it’s way to your wrist and all movement stopped between you both. It was silent, until another laughter track rang out. And then San was angry.

At you, at himself, at the fact you were both too cowardly to stop this cat and mouse game.

“So you’re just going to keep avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you!” Your reply was too quick, that guilty look dancing on your face. You sometimes forgot how well he knew you, how he’d seen that look on you before as you tried to convince your parents you hadn’t been the one to clog the toilet with “snacks for the toilet monster”.

“I called you a few days after. And again two days after that. You just magically missed both?” It was risky to ask. You were both students, with schedules and assignments through the roof, but San liked to believe he meant a little more to you than just an accident or a coincidence. Your silence told him everything he needed to know, hand letting go of you at last and stepping out your way. “Go then. Let’s just be strangers from here onward, since I can’t seem to win. If I’m your friend, you ignore me. If I’m your enemy, you hate me. If I try to be...” he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “then you ghost me. So, we’ll just not know each other from now on.”

“I can’t do this to my brother.” He hated you for remaining so unbothered, face emotionless as you stared him in the eyes while his own was fighting back a frown. It made him feel vulnerable and pathetic. “I’m selfish but not enough to risk the friendship that means more to him than most things.”

Your worries made sense, which only made his hatred worse.

“So you admit there is a this?” His pointer finger darted between you both.

“Yes? No... I don’t know, San!” Your resolve began to slip a little, exposing your feelings beneath the stoic mask. “You called Jongho a player but it feels like I’m being played by you. Nothing I feel for or about you should ever move past just this, friends. We both know that, yet you’re continuing to torture us. You’re the one who decided to play the knight in shinning armour, swooping in to help a damsel in distress! You’re the one who drove us to that arcade, who drove me home! You’re the one who kissed me!”

“You kissed me, Y/N.”

“Shut up!”

In any other circumstance, he would have laughed at your pathetic whine. He’d have thought about the many other ways he could get you let out the same noise, and then he’d wallow in the guilt of remembering Wooyoung was right next to him while he’d sat thinking of you committing sins with his naked body. “Make me.”

He didn’t expect you to actually do anything. It was an empty threat, a dare to do what you’d already made clear couldn’t happen between you two. One can only imagine the surprise on his face when your lips landed on his.

It was different to the last time, in front of your building. While that one had been all nervous breaths and smiles of relief and the euphoria of not being rejected, this one was filled with anger and desperation and your cold hands on San’s warm skin. When his hands drifted down your spine all the way to your thighs, it was instinct that drove you into wrapping your legs around him, lips glued separating only for a moment as you stared down at him from the new position.

You both could have stopped, should’ve stopped. But San was too far gone to think rationally, to think about all the things he should and shouldn’t do. Again, he’d never been good at denying himself from indulging in what he wanted. And he wanted you, a fact which he stated against your mouth.

“I want you too.” It was all the go ahead he needed, lips trailing over your jaw and making their way down to your neck. When his lips latched onto a certain spot, sucking gently between kitten licks, a moan escaped you and he swore he almost dropped you in shock.

A couple seconds later, and the desire to make you moan as many times as possible, San found the will power to pull his lips off of you and concentrate on getting you both to the closest seating area. He dropped himself down onto the couch and adjusted you on his lap, the tent in his sweatpants becoming more obvious by the minute. The giggle you let out had his intentions pausing, his lips shooting up to kiss the tip of your nose and his dimples appeared alongside the smile he shot at you.

You rolled your hips against him, barely dragging your clothed self over his hardened member, and San shot back into action, face buried in your neck and a hand on your hip, guiding you over his thigh while his other wandered under the hem of your t-shirt, dragging the fabric up and off with your help. Like every other inch of you, San found the sight of your breasts beautiful, held perfectly in the red lace that was straining against your hardening nipples. When the fabric slipped off, your own hands having reached back to unclasp it, San nearly told you to leave it on, loving the way the delicate fabric decorated your body. It took one proper look at you naked from the waist up, grinding against his thigh with your lips parted for him to realise he much preferred you with no bra. He nestled his face between your breasts, eyes shut as he inhaled and centred himself in the moment.

He hated how he wasn't the first to trace your skin. How his were not the first lips to latch themselves on to your neck. How he wouldn't be the first man who'd attempted to put his feelings of love for you into actions of lust. And it was so fucking wrong, so toxic of him to think like that. Because you were so much more than the people you'd been with, so much more than the lips you'd kissed. But as his lips latched on to your taut nipple and his hand inched further up your flimsy skirt, San couldn't seem to find the part of him that gave a shit about what was wrong or right.

There was only you, you, you. You with your sweet smiles and your pretty outfits, with your witty words and your beautiful puzzle of a brain. And your damp panties.

“San.” He thought of how he might just explode at the way his name sounded on your abused lips, not even above a whisper but it sent his mind down a spiral of ways he could get you to say it again, maybe louder than last time. His hand finally pushed your underwear to the side and touched you. And, fuck, you were practically pulsating with want. San fought every urge in his body to just fuck you like this: in the middle of his living room, your legs straddling his own, panties pushed aside and your skirt fluttering upwards each time he bounced you on his cock. But no, there was no way he'd risk putting you both in that position of being caught by your own brother and his best friend. Besides, San wanted to drink you in, savour you, take things as slow as you both could handle because it could easily be the first of many times for you both, or it could be a one time mistake that would drive you away from him forever. Though the idea of living without you sounded painful, so did the idea of going back to before this moment, to not knowing where he stood in your life and you in his.

“Shit,” He groaned out, his middle finger slipping in to you. The way your walls squeezed against his digit was enough to knock the wind out of his lungs. He couldn’t wait to stuff you full to the brim, whether you were under him or above him. He just wanted to be sheathed balls deep in you. “say my name again.”

“Make me.” You spat his earlier words back at him, a daring look in your eyes. It was enough to encourage him to slip in a second digit, slowly beginning to fuck you on his fingers.

“If you insist, princess.” He laughed as your walls clamped down on him. “I knew you got turned on by me calling you that. Cute.”

“Don’t call me cute,” Your sentence broke off in a moan, San’s thumb ghosting over your clit as his fingers worked you up. “when you’re fucking me with your hand, loser.”

“Then don’t call me loser.”

You’d began to grind down on his hand, hips meeting each pump of his fingers and lips whining at each stroke of him thumb on your clit. San was about ready to cum untouched in his pants just from watching you. You clamped down on his fingers a few moments after he’d introduced a third one into you, your orgasm washing over you without a single warning and soaking your panties, along with San’s hand, beyond repair.

Whilst you worked at calming your breathing down, San brought the hand coated in your slick up to his mouth. The sweetness of you on his tongue had his eyes rolling back, a satisfied noise escaping his chest. “Taste even better than I thought, pretty girl.”

“You thought about that? Pervert.” You leaned down, lips pressing against his own gently and he was sent back to the night outside your dorms, the soft hesitancy in both your actions bringing his heartbeat to a halt.

“Don’t act like you’ve not thought about my dick, I saw the way you checked me out earlier.”

Your hand trailed down his torso teasingly, stopping at the hem of his sweatpants as you stared into his eyes, lip caught between your teeth. “And if I have thought about it, then what? You gonna let me see it?”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” He’d already moved to the edge of the couch, hands reaching to grip you properly and securely against him before he stood up again, sight set on getting you both to his bedroom.

“Deal.”

The many fantasies of seeing you splayed out on his bed, staring at him with your cheeks flushed as his teeth pulled your panties down were nothing compared to the reality of it. His hands pulled them off the rest of the way, lips delving down to pepper kisses along your thighs. Your scent was so strong, so close, he could almost taste you on his tongue. Which he did, muscle darting out to lick up your slit.

“Are you going to keep teasing us both or are you gonna get your stupid cock out and fuck me?” He chuckled against you, nose bumping against your clit and sending a jolt up your spine.

“So impatient and dirty-mouthed. Maybe you need to be taught a lesson in patience.” He tutted, lips back on your thighs.

“San, I swear to god, I’ll leave and find someone else to get me off!”

“Alright, alright, calm down.” Though he laughed, there was a spark of jealousy and a rush of worry. There was no way in hell he’d have let you go find someone to take his place. He rose from between your legs, tumbling off the bed and practically ripping the drawer next to his bed open, grabbing one of the silver foiled packets. Turning too quickly, his foot collided with the corner of the unit and his leg shot up in pain, curses leaving him all the while he shuffled back over to the bed.

“Did you just stub your baby toe?” You laughed from where you lay, breasts bouncing with the sounds you emitted.

“Oh, shut up and go back to begging me to fuck you.” He settled himself on top of you, eyes rolling as he nestled himself in your neck. You smelled like cherries, and cotton candy dreams, and sweat born from desire. His cock brushed against your folds, your wetness lubricating him as San exhaled. “Tell me you want me.”

His need for your approval had the heat pooling in your abdomen worsening, a rush of pleasure shooting through your veins at San’s begging to be wanted. And not just by anyone, but by you. Hooking a leg over his naked hip, you hadn’t even noticed when he’d discarded the last of his clothing but you’re glad he had. Everything about him was a work of art, his golden skin scattered with moles all over, smooth to touch and warmth radiating off of him. You almost lost yourself in the moment, till you heard him repeat his pleads, needing to hear your consent before he opened the condom and got to work.

“I do.” You weren’t expecting the whisper that left you, lips planting themselves on his cheek. “Want you so bad, San.”

“Me too,” He was entranced, a smile worth a thousand words creeping onto his lips as he pulled back from your neck. The ripping of the foil packet rang out and you watched him roll the rubber over his member, pumping himself a couple times to relieve some of his tension, head thrown back and neck exposed as he struggled to keep his cool. “wanted you for so long, Y/N.”

“You have me.”

The burn of the initial stretch became meaningless when San apologised through kissing you over and over, nestling his cock deeper each time till it was hard to tell where he ended and you began. Your pleasured moans spurred him on, hips colliding against your own increasingly faster.

“How’re you so tight?” Was the first sentence he managed to verbalise, groans and whimpers otherwise playing through the whole room. “Did that Jongho kid not fuck you properly?”

He dodged the pillow thrown his way, arm scooping beneath you to roll you over and into his lap, sitting you on his member while his mouth went straight for your breasts, your hands tangling in his hair for some leverage. “Nice to know you’re also annoying in bed.”

“You love it.” He mumbled, tongue swiping over a nipple and a hand reaching between you both, fingers pressing on your clit only for him to giggle at the way your eyes shut and you squeezed around his cock.

“Not as much as you’ll love this.” Your hands pressed on to his chest, gently shoving him back down onto the mattress and forcing him to peer up at you through hooded eyes, hands gripping your thighs as you began to roll your hips, the tip of him brushing over your sweet spot over and over.

“Keep doing that and I’m gonna cum, princess.” He hissed, teeth clenched when you returned to bouncing yourself on his member, breasts bouncing along with you and a hand on his abdomen.

“Isn’t that the whole point of this, genius?” The slap against your thigh had you squealing and the hand beginning to control your movements had you seeing stars, pushing you down to perfectly meet each time San’s hips thrusted up from the bed.

When he reached utopia, a cry of your name bursting forward at the same time he fucked his cum into the condom, you came crashing down on to him, your own orgasm hitting you with such force your legs shook and your mind went blank, coming to only once you felt a dampness between your legs and saw San, having rid himself of the condom, cleaning your own mess up, lips plating a kiss against the side of your knee. He tossed the towel somewhere into the dark room, pulling the sheets back and pulling you under with him, head settling onto your chest and a relaxed sigh coming from him.

Time passed, you weren’t exactly sure how long exactly, and silence, comfortable and welcomed, settled in the air. The sound of his breathing and the warmth of his protective hold around you dragging you into unconsciousness, teetering on the edge of falling asleep. But San had to go and speak, thinking you were off in dreamland, and unknowingly ruin it all.

“I love you.”

San was glad he'd gotten the morning shift, seeing how the café was quickly filling with the usual afternoon rush hour, students and business people alike eager for a taste of caffeine during their break. His hands messily undone the tie of his apron, dumping it in to his bag before he slug it over his shoulder, waving at one of his co-workers. His feet carried him back out to the counter, where Wooyoung was smiling cheekily at a group of younger customers. He’d been extra energetic all day, the knowledge that he’d finally handed in his resignation letter and the prospect of his new position working in a real restaurant tinting the blonde haired boy’s world in rose coloured hues of red.

As for himself, life had been grey. Dull and boring, with flashes of red hot anger aimed at no one and everyone all at once. Waking up to an empty bed had been his routine for so many years, however, when he came to and found himself alone in his room that morning, no trace of you other than your scent on his sheets, it had shattered him. After the heartbreak came the hatred. Now, it had been three weeks and there’d been no sign of you.

San told himself it was better that way.

He held the door to the café open for a couple of local girls he recognised from the campus opposite from his own, flashing a polite smile as they skirted past him. The smile dropped from his face when he caught a bit of their conversation.

“...Jongho’s still going after her, from what I’ve heard. Apparently Sua spotted them getting handsy at the last Cix house party, though Y/N denied it when I asked about it.”

He’d gotten in his car with the intention of going home. He needed a warm shower and a drink. He needed a distraction, anything to not think of you pressed up against the stupid red haired boy who’d sent you running into San’s arms just to snatch you back. Perhaps you two deserved each other, a match made in hell. When he’d started heading towards your campus, he didn’t realise. Not until he spotted you, stood at the curb of the parking lot, in some sort of heated discussion with Choi Jongho.

San hated you for looking beautiful even in a pair of stained jeans and a worn-out hoodie.

“I really don’t need a ride, it’s fine. I’ll get the bus.” You seemed exhausted, your back turned to San and not noticing how he’d pulled up next to you both, making his way out of the car.

“I told you I was sorry, Y/N. Things came up, I didn’t mean to leave you hanging.” Jongho sounded anything but apologetic, and his burst lip and bruised knuckles done nothing to ease San’s discomfort. “Now will you please just let me take you home? Or anywhere else?”

San intervened at last, not liking the way Jongho had stepped closer to you. He cleared his throat, catching both of your attentions but he stared right past you, eyes on the now black haired male. “She’s got a ride already, don’t worry.”

If Jongho protested, San didn’t stick around long enough to hear it, grabbing onto your wrist. It wasn’t gentle like the other times, his nails digging crescents into your skin before you snatched it out his grasp, disbelief on your face at the fact he’d shown up out of nowhere and was playing the role of your saviour, yet again.

The drive back was awful, to say the most. There was no music, no stolen glances and no shared smiles. Only silence and the hum of his engine. Your eyes were glued on the outside world, past the window of the car, and his were on the road, chest slowly rising with each scarily calm breath he took. It felt like sitting next to a ticking timebomb, waiting to explode when the timer ran out. Nothing happened though, San simply pulling the vehicle to a halt outside your dorm building and waiting in silence for you to leave.

You almost wished he’d yell at you, tell you he hated you. You certainly preferred that over this. Your hands opened the car door, and the cold air from outside warmed you up more than the freezing atmosphere of the car.

“You know,” San whispered but you heard him, hand freezing on the door, your back turned to him and one foot out the car. “I didn’t think you’d actually pick to be strangers.”

What could you say to that? What could you possibly say to explain why you’d left, when you still didn’t know yourself? The anxious feeling had been too overwhelming in the pit of your stomach, forcing your fight or flight response. Clearly, you’d gone for the second option, sneaking out of the apartment in the early hours of the morning and breaking both your hearts in the process.

So you got out the car and done what you did best: walked away.

He always liked the way love songs sounded through the speakers of the radio.

There was a charm to it, the way the sound travelled through the air, kissing the atmosphere and warming even the coldest of hearts. It invited romance in with open arms, daring the universe to bring love into the listener’s life.

For the first time in his life, San groaned and shut the radio off, sick of all the songs about love.

“Yeah, yeah. We fucking get it, it started with a whisper...” He grumbled out in response to the song that had just started, sighing in the peace and quiet of the empty café. He’d just about finished cleaning up for the night, the only thing left to do being to check the register and lock it all up.

Two nights had passed since he’d dropped you home and now even his car was infected with the smell of cherries, dancing past his nostrils each time he inhaled. But the hatred had dissipated, leaving only pain in it’s path. He wasn’t angry at you for not wanting him the same way. That would be selfish of him. He was just hurting from the way you’d pierced his heart with your claws and ripped it out his chest, running off with it into the night.

He’d get over it, with time and a lot of rebounding. Maybe a little bit of praying to a deity he didn’t even really believe in. The most important factor was that it had all come crashing down before Wooyoung even knew something was happening.

San could at least keep one Jung by his side.

The bell above the door rang out as San finished counting the register, snapping it shut just in time to greet Wooyoung with a scowl. “Took you long enough, dude. Thought you said you’d have my car back by noon and it’s now-”

You stared back at him from the doorway.

San rubbed at his eyes, wondering if all those late nights were getting to him and causing hallucinations. You and your burgundy nails were still there when he removed his hands. “Wooyoung’s not here, sorry.”

“That’s okay.” You squirmed under the weight of his stare, swallowing the lump in your throat when he steps out from behind the counter. It was criminal, you thought, for someone to look so good in black jeans and a button up shirt. “I didn’t come here to see him.”

“Then why are you here, Y/N?” He bit back the temptation to ask if Jongho had once again stood you up, leaving you running in desperation for comfort. But it felt mean and he wasn’t sure he wanted to push you away. He didn’t exactly want to pull you closer either. Still, he found himself copying you when you took a step closer.

“I don’t know.” It was disappointingly simple. He wanted a reason behind your appearance, wanted you to give him the incentive to ask you to leave. Not just the café but his life in general. Because keeping him around just to string him along was becoming exhausting.

Sure, he was willing to chase you to hell and back. But where was he supposed to run to when you disappeared along the trail, nowhere in sight and a linger of your shampoo in the air?

There was a time, summers past now, when both your families had gone on holiday together, off to some pension house down by the sea. San remembered how he’d woken up and found you sat out on the front porch, staring up at the skies. It was the first time he’d ever looked at you. Not as Wooyoung’s little sister but as you, Y/N. He hadn’t understood at that time, why exactly his palms were sweating when he sat down next to you or why he wanted to sulk when you confessed to the crush you had on your brother’s other friend, Kang Yeosang. But when you let your hand take a hold of his own, both quietly staring up at the starry sky, he knew exactly why his heart felt all fuzzy. He’d been seventeen back then and anything seemed possible.

Now an adult, the fuzz in his heart was becoming daggers, piercing his fragile self. He wasn’t sure he could rely any longer on the hope that you’d someday want him back.

“Well, I was just closing.” He wanted you to leave, to stay, to do something other than stare across at him. You stayed silent and San felt he had to speak again, to stop himself from saying what he actually wanted to say. “Wooyoung’s on his way, if you want to wait for him.”

“I don’t want to wait for him.” You’d gotten closer and, one moment of weakness was all it would take for San to have his arms around you. “I just wanted a hug.”

The weakness fought against San’s resilience but he wasn’t moving. He wasn’t crossing the threshold, tired of being the one always having to cross the bridges you put up. He didn’t have to this time, luckily, because you reached forward and wrapped your arms around him, head falling against him and arms holding him to you. He let his instincts take over, enveloping you in his embrace, eyes closing to bask in the way your warmth rolled over him.

“I don’t want to be strangers, San.” He felt the hum of your voice, pulling back only when he felt you do the same. “I heard what you said... And I screwed up. I’m sorry. It just hit me all of a sudden and I didn’t know how to cope with it. I love you too, I’m sorry you had to wait to hear that.”

His silence was unnerving, each second that passed of him just staring down at you, no readable expression on his face, felt like an infinity. “You’re lucky you’re worth the chase, princess.” For the first time, he initiated the kiss between you both. There was no rush, no urgency to have one another pressed together, no desperation. It was the feeling of completion, at last, lips melting together and hands tangling around one another. When San pulled back, his lips were glistening red, inviting you to steal another kiss, so you did. “Wooyoung is going to kill me, isn’t he?”

You both jumped apart at a familiar voice ringing out from the doorway. “You have about exactly four seconds to run, Choi.”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

#ateez smut #choi san smut #ateez oneshot #choi san oneshot #ateez series #choi san series #ateez x reader #choi san x reader

1K notes · View notes